Surrounded by his belongings, Manager strolled through town without a care in the world. His white cape—plundered from the commander of Regiment Tertius—fluttered nobly from his back. Under the cape, the Republic’s officer’s uniform suited him: black fabric with silver trims made him dashing. The bell-shaped flare of the hem showed the true style of a manly man, and the bagginess of the pants was the uniform of a stalwart soldier willing to march in mud. He quite liked the polished boots and the notches in the winged collar, too.
[You’ve charmed …]
From the west gate, he went south, and from there he’d continue in a counter-clockwise fashion until he had encircled most of the town.
He didn’t need to get everyone here. Well, quantity was quality all on its own, of course—but he had his eyes on one prize and one prize alone: Arpeggio.
The goddess? No, she was irrelevant. He’d let the “god-killers” take care of her, even though they’d probably die. Oh, he wasn’t so full of himself; he couldn’t kill Minimine, either…but neither could she touch him.
Did you know how the charm worked? Funny little thing. The Harem God had done a great job designing the whole subsystem that worked the magic. It had seemed so ridiculous to Manager, at the time, that some wistful deity would spend hundreds of years putting together such a complicated thing—and it had to be complicated, because it operated directly on the soul.
The Harem God had spent much of his effort stacking failsafes on top of failsafes before putting the whole thing under chain and key, all just so that he could convince the other goddesses that he was just playing ‘harmless’ pranks on the humans of this world.
Indeed, great care had been taken so that the soul itself was never interfered with. Instead of rewiring one’s brain or soul, the original magic added “filters” on top of the soul. They were easy and harmless to add and remove, and the effects were always miniscule to the point that the actual increase in favorability was miniscule.
Casting such a magic over an entire city, however, guaranteed that at least one girl would, through a sequence of frankly ridiculous coincidences, find their way to the origin of the charm magic: the Harem God’s “protagonist,” he’d call it. Such an elegant use of magic and the Butterfly Effect—yet, as with any complex system, there was a vulnerability.
It was this opening that the ###### God had exploited, and Manager loved it. Why should charm magic have restraints, anyway? Why shouldn’t this world of women be at his command?
Power existed to be used; power existed to make life easier. He didn’t care whether his charm magic was like a million needles surgically altering the shape of one’s soul to his convenience. To subtract is to add, you see, and it surely added a lot…to his satisfaction.
[You’ve charmed …]
[You’ve charmed …]
[You’ve charmed …]
He didn’t care to remember their names. Quantities were named with numbers, not names, but he was not a shallow man who only demanded quantity, no. To live a quality life, he had to seek quality as well—take control of it.
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He sought a woman of power, and he sought to bend her to his will. Only then could he prove to himself that he was, indeed, a powerful man.
That said! He wasn’t romantically interested in children. Between Arpeggio and Minimine, then obviously he’d go for Arpeggio. He may have been corrupt, but he wasnt unprincipled; Minimine’s ancientness and infinite MP simply could not outweigh the fact that she was a child no matter how anyone looked at it. Ah, Arpeggio’s mother would have also qualified, but he preferred someone around the same age.
Ah, where was he? Southeast of Harmony and going north, right, right…
He could feel the rumble of Minimine’s attacks shaking the street. Although he did not prefer her, he would not hesitate to charm her to oblivion. After having all its restrictions lifted, ###### God’s charm magic had become a million reciprocating scalpels against a being made of souls, with equal ability to alter soulstuff or to completely destroy it. If it came to it, Minimine…heh, even a goddess wouldn’t be able to touch him.
He reached the field of battle. The northwest of Harmony had become a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Standing pillars of bricks were the tallest things here. Goddesses really didn’t care about mortal lives, did they?
The so-called god-killers were, as expected, having the time of their remaining lives. Their powerful otherworldly magics clashed against the goddess’s, making showers of bright sparks in the night. Streams of auroras gathered to fill the void left by extreme magic consumption.
This place had become quite the party, didn’t it?
He looked around, searching for his real prey.
— It’s been such a long time, after all. Oh how he’d missed her so.
An explosion of dust and debris erupted at the edge of the urban wasteland where there were still a few standing buildings. There.
It only took him a few leaps to get there, and from a vantage point on a roof, he spotted his prized wife-to-be annihilating the last of the Scarlet Knights he’d sent out here. Of course they would be no match for her—she was going to be his wife! It would’ve been embarrassing if she couldn’t do this much!
He jumped off the roof, and a beam of light swallowed the place where he’d stood.
Landing on street level, he looked behind him. The attack aimed at him had taken off the entire top floor of the building. Where had it come from, however?
When he turned around, he smiled at what he saw. Arpeggio stood 50 meters away, sword raised in Ox guard. Her eyes were glued to his; her sword pointed only at him.
He had her full attention. Wasn’t it romantic?
In a single step, Manager closed the distance and whispered into Arpeggio’s ear with a smile, “It’s been a while.”
Arpeggio’s eyes widened. She twisted her sword and stepped around with a turn of her body to slash at the imbecile.
Manager lifted his hand and caught the blade just inches from his neck. “Oh, that could’ve killed me.”
Arpeggio had no words for him. She twisted her body and kicked at his head with her heel, but Manager caught the blow with his other hand.
It still sent him flying into a wall. He twisted his body so he landed on his feet, and he kicked off the wall without so much as a scratch. How feisty, he thought as he dusted down his pants.
Every part of the woman in front of him was a weapon. His desire only grew greater, and his grin wider, as the seconds passed.
***
Arpeggio held her broken sword, chanting a spell to make up for the broken part with magic. She kicked off, clashing with him once more, but the bracelets got searing hot and the magic part of her sword broke like glass, forcing her to disengage. His charm magic was undoubtedly powerful, maybe even more so than Kalender’s.
It was a bitter truth that she was outclassed; he was just playing with her, and he could charm her any time he wished. All he had to do was break the anti-charm bracelets around her arms. He didn’t even have to break all of them.
But she wasn’t alone.
Cyrraia was watching, ready to shoot the moment Manager’s guard was down, and Minimine, although focused on fighting the god-killers, could perhaps flick a supersonic rock at him every now and then.
Really, all Arpeggio had to do was lead this oh-so-perfect man by the nose and into the sights of powers far greater than her own.
Her expression didn’t change as a blade of magic extended from the broken part of her sword. Smile all you want, she thought of his arrogant face.
He walked towards her with open arms. She’d killed him once; she’ll do it again.