The Strongest In The World Doesn't Have Any Abilities? Book 1 Chapter 70
"By this time...they already started departing for Harlin...can you confirm it?"
Myriel, who just spent the whole night drinking at her bar, talked sluggishly as she flipped her already empty bottle of wine upside down, letting the last droplets of deep purple fluid drip slowly down to the brim. Her blonde hair was disheveled, but her overall appearance still emits a captivating aura around her.
Meanwhile fhe boar-masked man shook his head disappointedly at the sight of her doing things unfit for someone like her, but hid his actions away from her for fear of offending her.
"Yes. If my calculations were right, they'll reach the capital in about three days."
"Three days, huh..." Myriel then started counting up to three with her fingers, each finger representing one day. "On the second day, they will find themselves in a dangerous situation, either a ferocious monster or a large group of bandits. After that--"
"Aren't you showing too much concern for that young man, Miss Rewriter?" he asked bluntly.
Knowing her personality, it was rare for her to think of anyone other than herself as something significant. However, her attitude towards Ren in the past few days made him think of her having another motive in mind.
His question was without malice as he's just stating an observation, but he's worried that the drunk goddess in front of him would misinterpret what he said.
"Hm. 'Concern'? I wonder about that," Myriel let out a short chuckle upon hearing his question. "If you think that letting that boy go down the path according to our plans equates to showing concern to him...then yes, I think I might be doing it too much."
There is a rule that among the Old Gods and the lesser gods that succeeded them that forbade anyone to directly interfere with the mortals' lives in any way. Though in essence majority of them chose not to deal with lesser beings regardless of the rule, there's still a number of them that went against it and even started living alongside humans.
Myriel was one of those lesser gods who disobeyed, and through her efforts she managed to pull one peculiar human to 'cooperate' with her.
"He's one invaluable piece for this game that I entered, and I can't just let his potential go to waste. Now that those guys are about to start their move, his abilities--or its lack thereof--would surely be put to test."
The masked man asked, "By 'those guys', could it be that you're referring to..."
"That's right," Myriel nodded, confident that the person in front of her is informed enough of the subject matter.
"I see," the masked man let out a deep sigh. "Deliberately luring them closer to our doorsteps...we're really going with that, huh."
"Oh, don't you worry about that. As long as we three are working together, we could proceed without any problems."
The death of Abeiroz--the latest controversy in the God Realm--was only possible thanks to three entities working hand in hand, albeit implicitly.
First, the mastermind. Using her power to glimpse into other people's future Myriel successfully came up with a way that will surely cause a stir to the other gods. Taking other variables into account, she also made a couple of contingency measures in case the tide of the situation takes a turn for the worse.
Next, the builder. With the use of bribes the masked man was able to manipulate certain people to go to Abeiroz' place instead of Sandy Fish, causing the inn to lose a portion of their earnings. Thanks to his subordinates keeping an eye on them since they started with the plan, he saw how Saki sprang into action and unknowingly bring Aoi closer to Abeiroz, effectively baiting the third player into the fray.
And lastly, the one doing the deed. With Ren being baited into going to the [Bottom Row] and killing Abeiroz in the process, all of his comrades' resent will be put towards the young man, while Myriel and the masked man are still in the shadows.
As long as they could divert the gods' attention towards him, the plan was a success.
"So that makes him our scapegoat, Miss Rewriter," the masked man sighed once more as he looked at the ground, "but even I feel bad for that young man--he doesn't have even the slightest idea of what troubles will befall on him soon."
"Fufu, I see that you've grown fond of that boy. Well, to tell you honestly...it's for his own good that I'm bringing those darn gods closer to him," Myriel said with a smile.
She knows that it would put great pressure on the young man but only through his presence that her plans would work. He will resent her for all eternity, sure, but that's a small sacrifice she's willing to make.
"Anyway, as her big sister, I'll have to give him a small reward or something for doing a good job back there. Ah--"
She then stood up in an abrupt manner. As she went for the way out, the masked man asked, "Where are you going, Miss Rewriter?"
"Oh, I'm just planning to get a gift for Ren."
"A gift, you say. What will it be?"
"My, that'll be a secret," Myriel chuckled as she replied. "There's eyes and ears everywhere. I won't risk anyone spoiling such a good surprise."
The masked man assured her, "Please rest easy, Miss Rewriter. I won't delve into that matter anymore if you don't want to."
"Hah. Very well," Myriel waved her hand as she went out of her bar.
A few minutes after Myriel left, the masked man, left alone, deemed that no one would complain if he wishes to drink.
While looking around Myriel's collection of vintage wines in her cellar, his interest got caught by one of the wine bottles placed at the bottom of the rack.
"'Fate. Neither Life nor Death won't escape its eternal grasp...', what an interesting line coming from a wine label."
He then took the bottle with him back to the table and poured himself a generous amount of bluish-black wine. Seeing the two colors swirl around the glass without mixing like an emulsion, he raised a toast to the first person that came into his mind.
"To Ren Mortel...I wish you long life, or a painful end. Cheers."
Life, Death--it all boils down to Fate. The young man himself had his own good share of both things, so wishing either of them won't make any difference.
In fact, any one of them can make a good start for him.