“She’s a friend of yours?” Agravain asked with his eyebrow arching as high as could.

“Friend my ass,” the angel whined with a curse, and despite the rude remark still hiding under the cover of her codex.

“Well, yeah,” the stranger cocked her head, endlessly bemused by the spiteful greetings, “I also wouldn’t say friends exactly. Not least because I might catch your poverty else! But deary me indeed, you never fail to impress me with ever new lows, Jophiel!”

Sure it was a miserable sight. Even for an uncouth barbarian, in appearances, huddling four heads together over a single bowl of soup was embarrassing. In fact he would rather have been caught feasting on a raw, uncooked animal like a caveman. That would at least have fit the so-called aesthetic of a barbarian better.

But that wasn’t what was important here.

“But, um,” Soraya raised her voice, “Miss, if you aren’t Jophiel’s friend then what’s your relationship with her exactly.”

At once the woman sized the princess up. As though her rather polite inquiry was a challenge. Her demeanor, while casual at first when she called out Jophiel, suddenly turned composed. For the first time, her demeanor matched her appearance, hinting at her identity as someone of status, or at least well-used to polite society, much like her companions. The group of young girls were watching intently from their own tables, silent in rapt attention as though waiting for a signal from the woman.

“Well,” the woman answered in a grave tone, leaving no possible mistake that she was joking, “you can say we are enemies. Or to be precise, we are archrivals.”

“Rivals my ass,” again Jophiel mumbled. At long last she emerged from below the codex, slamming it on the table, but still averting her eyes, “I don’t remember ever taking you on as my rival, Hanael. You proclaimed it yourself.”

“Oh, excuse you!” Hanael drew up her voice, “Not that I’m extra proud to be calling someone in your current state a rival, if anything...” With a great sigh heaving from her chest, the woman dropped uninvited to the chair next to Rania, “...and to think I made all that haste to this country, now I can’t even muster up the will for a fight. You sure know how to ruin the mood at all the wrong times, don’t you? Naw, It’s so pitiable I almost want to cry.”

“At least introduce yourself if you’re going to sit down,” Agravain grumbled. “Are you an angel like that thing over there or what?”

That much seemed obvious enough, he couldn’t guess any other reason for someone to seek a fight with an angel. It could only be for the Mundane Egg. And thus, their enemy.

“Yes,” she said, shrugging, “Hanael is my name, well met. Archangel of the Grand Quest assigned to Player Character #4. For that matter...” She turned to the group of young girls and raised her voice to a ringing, clear pitch, “Maria, Ophelia, over here! And order some food by, I might catch these poor sods’ misery else.”

The two who were named rose obediently at her command. The one leading the way was tall, her hair golden as sunlight reached to her waist, yet her expression was anything but a ray of sunny. She introduced herself as Ophelia.

The other one was unassuming in comparison, far less gloomy for starters. With short hair and a sheepish look, a face full of freckles, she was every bit the antithesis of her companion’s existence. Like an easily frightened small animal, she introduced herself as Maria. It didn’t take a genius to guess which one was the Summoner and which the Player Character. And as the girl stole glances at Agravain he knew she was of the same impression.

“Nice to meet you,” Maria was the first to open up. She extended a hand towards Agravain, “Could it be we are in the same line of work?”

Weird way to introduce herself. Still, Agravain took her hand. He had expected a more violent first meeting with his competition, judging from Jophiel’s general hostility towards other Players.

“Are you also summoned over?” he asked conversationally, “it’s not even a few days, is it? Must have been hard.”

“Tell me about it!” the girl beamed, the barbarian’s casual manner having lifted heavy pressure from her shoulders. She must also have anticipated the same thing as he had from a competitor, that is, an enemy baying for her blood from the get-go.

She had a round, if normal face, blink and you miss it in a crowd. Credit where credit's due, she was trying her best to appear friendly. And despite a lingering sheepish look about her as she stole glances at her companion, she appeared the more approachable of the two. “It’s been one confusing event after the last. I’m glad I’m not the only one overwhelmed here.”

“I actually don’t mind.” Agravain shrugged. “But we’ve only been hanging around these parts. Did you really travel here from another country?”

Maria nodded, “We came on a ship through--”

“Maria!” the other girl, Ophelia raised her voice, while giving Agravain a distant look. For someone with so soft and gentle a voice, her reprimand was clear and precise. “I beg your pardon, Sir Agravain, I am given to understand that we are, by definition, enemies. Is it really prudent to treat with each other so casually?”

Her excessive sternness in a way reminded Agravain of his mother, only lacking in venom and overwhelming intimidation.

“Aww, it’s fine,” Hanael dismissed lazily with a wave of her hand. At the same time of the gesture, she smoothly shifted her body to allow space for the servants bearing hearty dishes to their table. All the grace Jophiel lacked she displayed in abundance.

And they say only humans are born unequal.

Now nudging a dish towards Soraya with a smile, the angel said, “It’s not like a bit of chatting can hurt. Knowing Jophiel, she can dig up those useless stuff herself if she wants. Just don’t reveal too much about our abilities.” She turned to the young princess, “So, what about you? What do you want so bad that you would pursue the Mundane Egg for?”

“Nothing much, really.” Soraya stole a brief glance at the still-pouting Jophiel. Then having taken her silence as permission to speak freely, she went on, “My older sister is the one who’s after it. I just want to see her again.”

“Oh, is that just it? Then you don’t really need the Egg so long as you can find your sister?”

“That’s about it,” the barbarian said.

“Yeah, right,” Hanael snickered, looking anything but buying it at face value. “I have seen that stuff before.” She shrugged. “Well, I have seen a lot, to be sure. Nothing surprises me anymore.”

Then the angel shifted her gaze to Rania. The maid naturally had not uttered a word. Instead, she was attending to Soraya with usual care, removing shells from the shrimps before moving them to the princess’s bowls like a mother bird.

Hanael gave her fellow angel a sidelong look. “Chatting is fine, yes. But is it a good idea to allow that girl to listen? She’s not a party member, right?”

“It’s fine,” Jophiel grumbled, leering at the food. For how shameless she had appeared before to share in a meager meal with a human, she was scrupling now from touching the food offered by her bitter rival. “She’s one actually, and I already told her about the quest.”

“Oh? No freaking out or anything? I don’t even tell party members most things if I could help it. I find humans better motivated when they’re left mostly in the dark. But you do you. Still a surprise that you would build a party member this early into the game--now that’s unlike you.”

“The glass-wearing maid is prime material.” Jophiel was still taciturn, but had at last straightened up to appear an equal to her rival. “Also, don’t lump me together with the likes of you. I don’t have a particular game plan I religiously follow every time. I only do what is optimal--Ugh!”

“Just eat, for Michael’s sake!” Hanael rolled her eyes, shoving a dish her rival’s way in exasperation. “Stop eyeing it like that! You can pay me back later!”

“Ugh, fine. If you insist.” So she said reluctantly, but it did not take long for her to start digging in earnestly.

The general mood was friendly thanks to Hanael’s easy-going nature. And though the dour manner of Maria’s summoner still dampened the mood, it was long before everyone else at the table began to relax. Even Rania seemed to have dropped her guard a slightly bit as the conversation between the angels went on.

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“But even if you say that,” Hanael quickly returned to the previous topic, “you do have a playstyle you stick to, Jophiel, whether you like to admit it or not. You do certain things the same way all the time. I would know. Like, knowing you, I’m sure you delegated the running of your information network as soon as you could hand out the rings, yeah?”

“So what?” Jophiel was stung, “I found a couple of capable stewards who could do the job. Do you expect me to sit around running a business, heck, even a country, like you, while neglecting my Player Character? No, shut up, don’t even argue. The way you do it is just ridiculous.”

“I’m arguing. And that’s just what I’m saying,” Hanael sighed, “There’s delegating certain small tasks, and there’s neglecting it altogether. You refuse to make use of every tool at your disposal and instead focus everything on your Player Character. That’s what you call a one-tracked game plan. And unless your name is Raguel, every one of us has our preferred approach. Nothing wrong with that, so don’t be so defensive. Just as I like to build wide, you like to build tall. We both are just on the opposite sides of the spectrum.”

“Meh, worthless terms,” she spat, “I do what’s optimal, as I said, and that’s focusing all my time and energy on what really matters. Tall or wide my ass.”

“Optimal? You? Now you’re just making fun of yourself.”

“My ass, I say, my ass!”

“You’re being uncouth, Jophiel,” the barbarian interrupted her mounting tantrum, “But what are you two talking about? What do tall and wide mean?”

“Just terms,” Hanael said, “Jophiel likes to focus her resources in one place: her main character or a very small party, so it’s like constructing a tall building, focusing every living space in one horizontal area. You get me? On the contrary, I like to spread my resources, building networks, structural powers and task forces scattered around to spring for rumors of the Egg as soon as there’s the slightest sign of it.” She leaned back on her chair, looking over her shoulder and gesturing towards the girls she had brought along. “See them? They are just this one task force I picked out for the sole purpose of accompanying Maria. Naturally there are many more moving parts under my command, even now my net is cast wide across the world in search of the Egg. And as I get even more rings, they shall grow even more expansive and elaborate.”

“You did all this in three days?”

“That’s her thing,” Jophiel said after downing a tankard and slamming it on the table with a tad too much force behind it, grumping and glaring all the while. “She prepares a detailed plan prior to the competition and then speedruns it out of the gate to catch other angels off guard. Why else do you think she sought me out so early if not for such a shameless plan?”

The other angel was beaming, taking it as a compliment in spite of Jophiel’s plain tone for the contrary. “Mind, not three days,” she said, endlessly proud of her own accomplishment, “just one, the other one and a half were spent traveling here. Though I must admit, I never expected to run into you guys so soon.”

“One day? In one day you established a worldwide army?” Even the barbarian was impressed by this mathematically impossible feat.

“It was quite a sight,” Maria finally wedged into the conversation. “She popped out, Hanael I mean, then together with her we stormed the Council of High Priests with a bang. Positively unnerving stuff. First we unearthed some long lost relics hidden in the crypt of an ancient lord. Then she went on to solve all the material and spiritual problems that had been plaguing the country for decades, though for that one she used me as her mouthpiece and only showed up surrounded by divine light at the end. Then arguing against the theologians, she pointed out passages in the holy book that prophesied her advent, before kicking off the quest to recover a religious artifact. The entire country turned upside down in a little more than half a day! I think everyone was equally confused and dazzled at the same time.”

“Yup, aren’t I amazing?”

“I concur,” the barbarian duly nodded, “quite so. At least several magnitudes more amazing than that thing there who does nothing but whine about stats all day.”

“Rude! Rude! Rude!” Jophiel cried, “Is this because I gave the gauntlets to Rania instead of you, you traitor!”

“What are you gonna do if I say yes?” the barbarian growled.

The tantrum aside, a more constructive conversation was going on on the other side of the table. Soraya was asking the human pair for their reason to seek the Egg.

Maria turned shyly to her summoner. “Well, I know it’s unfair after you have told us your story, but ours is, you know... a bit personal. It’s not something we can just...”

“It’s fine,” Ophelia said coldly. The grave woman met the princess’s eyes squarely, and though older, she seemed to regard her as an equal, perhaps on grounds of being fellow summoners. “Your request is not unreasonable, princess. It’s only fair that I answer with my reason in kind, the gravity of it matters not. And I trust Hanael’s judgment that it’ll do no harm to our cause.”

“Ugh,” Soraya’s curiosity was immediately put out by the serious turn, “You don’t have to if it’s that serious.” It was obvious she had expected a more light-hearted exchange, or at the very least a reason as casual as wanting to see a family member again.

“I’m saying it’s fine,” Ophelia insisted. “The official reason for this trip is that I, the High Priestess appointed by the Chosen One, was the one selected to restore the Mundane Egg to the Churches.”

“And the not-so-official reason?” Agravain inquired in Soraya’s stead.

Looking at the solemn girl, one would think she rarely did anything improper or for her own selfish desire. The kind who thinks what is good for others is good for herself.

Selflessness, or just plain disregard for herself.

“My fiance,” Ophelia said, “I want to bring him back to life.”

“He’s dead?” Soraya couldn’t help it. “Oh, I’m sorry for putting it so bluntly, that must have been quite sad.”

Her even tone betrayed not the slightest sorrow of a grieving maiden for a dead lover.

“It’s sad when someone dies, no matter who it is. But this matter is greater than my personal feelings. Do you know of our Theocracy?”

“Judging from your attire. It could only be Rheda. It’s governed by two separated churches, I think.”

Ophelia nodded in approval of Soraya’s geopolitical knowledge.

“The two churches were once of the same religion, but a schism broke it apart. I shall spare you the dogmatic differences between the two. But the heart of the matter is that, I am a High Priestess and heir to the See of the Ordinance Church. While my fiance was the heir to the See of the Mundane Church.”

“So it was a political marriage?” Agravain asked.

It was Hanael who answered, “So it was supposed to be. Then the guy went and got himself killed, rather, assassinated. The marriage was naturally problematic, for whoever controls the two Churches effectively controls the Theocracy of Rheda. Parties of vested interests were naturally displeased to see so much power to be soon concentrated in the hands of those two’s children.”

Soraya thought over this a while, then put a finger to her lips, musing, “Not to be mean to the guy or anything... But wouldn’t it be simpler, if you ever obtain the Egg, that is, to simply mend that schism with magic, rather than restoring a person from death to life and go through the marriage for the same outcome?”

“Oops,” Hanael let out an awkward laugh, “You poke at a touchy subject, girl.”

Ophelia’s already thin pretension for friendliness was torn apart as she drew her voice up. “And What on earth do you think using magic in such a way would entail?”

“Ughhh,” Soraya seemed to be in trouble.

Although he felt quite sorry for the princess, Agravain could not do a thing for her in this instance. Ever since the conversation took a political turn he had lost all of his interest. Instead he wolfed down the food as he observed the growing tension between the summoners.

Soraya took a while to consider the matter more carefully this time, then ventured, “To reconcile two different religious views, I suppose the magic would have to alter the people’s beliefs... It would be mind altering, or enslaving people’s minds. I think.”

“That and some,” Ophelia said gravely. “No more shall the beliefs be true, and no more would the general will of the believers matter, but instead bent by the power of one’s subjective will. That would not just be the act of a tyrant, but the corruption of the devil. It is the act of robbing humans of their own minds, their last bastions of freedom. Whereas with a political reconciliation, generations of men and women would naturally amend their differences over time--and even should that prove irreconcilable, there would still be lasting peace under one ruler, instead of those with conflicting interests dictating. All over the world, there are no few empires where folk of clashing beliefs cohabit. It wouldn’t be ideal, but still more desirable than endless conflicts or corrupting the general will.”

A pang of silence fell over the table after the speech that was more earnest than necessary. And save for Soraya’s mumbling of an agreement and the barbarian’s loud chewing, no one uttered a sound.

“Well,” after washing the oily fish down his throat with a drink, the barbarian broke the silence, “That’s cool and all, but what about you, Maria? Is there a reason for you to follow your angel’s whims? Or why do you want to help Ophelia.”

Her hook, so to speak. The catalyst for her to chase after the Mundane Egg.

“Well, haha,” the girl looked away awkwardly. She certainly possessed nothing of the graveness of her summoner. “I guess I just find Ophelia’s goal quite admirable... What about you though?” She quickly tossed the question back to himself.

“Me? Nothing much either. Soraya just reminded me of my little sister so I decided to help her.”

Soraya frowned, “First I’ve heard of it.”

“Well, you never asked. What? You think I’m helping you just because you are my summoner?”

“Wha? It’s not like you have anything else you want to do right?”

There was that too, true enough.

A good reason as any.

Nothing better to do.

But it was not his main reason. Soraya being a close resemblance to his late sister was.

And he doubted Maria was telling the truth either. He had the hunch that a hook that could force one into a life-and-death battle would go deeper than simple admiration.

Occasionally Maria would throw worrying glances over to her summoner. Such were not the glances of admiration. Far from it.

Well, not that it was his problem.

“But really,” Hanael whined, “and here I was itching to kick your ass for once, Jophiel. Then you guys just went and showed me something so pathetic it made me lose all of my appetite.”

“Oh, won’t you just quit it!” Jophiel glared, slamming her both fists on the table like a child throwing a tantrum, “Like you’re going to let go of this opportunity now that you have caught me off guard. Just say it!”

In spite of her hostility, Hanael simply smirked, endlessly bemused by Jophiel’s riled-up state. “And yet I’m saying it. I’m giving you the choice. Fight me or not. You know as well as I do what's at stake.”