MASTER blinked.
"Not Yomid, you say?"
"You have it right. She looks quite like me, but I am Pakira."
"Herode. Explain."
MASTER addressed the man.
Herode answered calmly.
"No. She is Yomid."
"Wrong. I am Pakira. Not Yomid."
"Is that what she claims?"
"The dark attribute was confirmed. Furthermore, she was in possession of the Avgrund Staff that Yomid holds. Taking everything into account, I conclude she is Yomid."
Herode replied, cool as ever.
MASTER glared daggers at Pakira.
"Then you are Yomid, are you not?"
"Those things I received from Yomid. Besides, the hair color is different, wouldn't you say?"
"Is that so... Herode?"
"The relevant data has degraded with age and cannot produce the correct appearance. Moreover, I am not personally acquainted with Yomid, so I have no choice but to trust that MASTER's memory data is correct."
"Then that is undoubtedly the correct appearance. Yomid."
"I keep telling you, that is not the case."
Pakira sighed. Then she muttered, "Well, I suppose there's no helping it."
"Listen well. First — this is me. Pakira."
And with that declaration, Pakira... activated the True Form God Relic [Yomid].
Pakira's appearance changed in the blink of an eye.
Though to be fair, it was only her ears, tail, hair, skin color, and outfit that changed.
Light green hair streaked with black. Red eyes, one side hidden behind a lock of hair.
Black cat ears sprouted from the top of her head.
Clad in a white, see-through nightdress over her tanned skin, a pair of black tails — one long, one short — swayed behind her.
"Yomid...!?"
MASTER couldn't help but rise from the throne.
"That's right. This is Yomid."
Somewhat embarrassed by the see-through nightdress, Pakira covered herself with her hands as she spoke.
She immediately reverted to her original form.
"Well? They're different, aren't they?"
"There are certainly differences in various places."
"Y-yeah. They're different in lots of ways — no, wait, huh? What? Huh??"
MASTER was in a state of confusion. Can't really blame him.
"Now you understand, yes?"
"I don't understand at all!? No matter how you look at it, that was Yomid just now!"
"That is true. What you saw just now was Yomid."
"Then it IS Yomid!"
"Calm down. What you saw earlier was Yomid, but this form is Pakira."
"???? Huh, so Yomid's temporary form is Pakira?"
"No. Pakira is Pakira. I am not Yomid."
"That doesn't make any sense!"
"I can only become Yomid temporarily through a Relic."
"So what you were just now was the real Yomid, then?"
"Indeed."
"Then that's still Yomid!"
"No. I can only become one temporarily through a Relic."
"Relic? Relic?"
"What is a Relic?"
"What? You people. You don't even know what a Relic is?"
This time, it was Pakira who looked bewildered.
"Never heard of it."
"A function..."
"...it is."
"A skill?"
"Not that?"
"A Relic is a Relic. Those three you encountered—they were using Relics, weren't they?"
"No. That was..."
"A function."
"That's what it is."
"Not a Relic?"
"A
function
not?"
Pakira and MASTER tilted their heads at each other.
"What we have as a
function
is what you'd call a Relic."
Herode summed it up nicely.
"The mystery of organic life forms just got deeper... I don't even know anymore. Weren't organic life forms supposed to be fragile? Drawing a tie with Baltazar is just too much."
"It's reality. Let's accept it."
"So, Herode. Why aren't you so shaken by this?"
"Because I'm that kind of existence."
"Oh right."
"Ah, more to the point, what even are you two?"
Pakira studied MASTER and Herode, then asked.
Herode was wearing a black robe with diagonal silver lines threaded through it, and a hood pulled over his head.
MASTER was wearing a white robe with diagonal gold lines and gold-trimmed edges, also with a hood pulled over his head.
Both of them were intentionally concealing their appearances.
Just from their builds and voices, Herode was male. That MASTER was a young girl was clear enough.
MASTER answered.
"We are the hunted. The oldest of peoples."
"A lost race?"
"Yes, that would be a correct way to understand our existence."
"Hmm..."
Pakira, being a member of the cat-people herself—a rare breed among beast-kin—was quick to understand.
"—I'll be honest, I can't say I'm entirely convinced, but I understand that you're not Yomido."
MASTER let out a deep sigh.
Disappointment. Frustration. Unbearable resentment. Something of that nature could be felt.
Pakira, taking that into account, asked.
"You lot. Why do you need Yomido? I'm not Yomido myself, but I serve as Yomido's proxy on the surface. The least I can do is hear you out."
"A proxy on the surface?"
"More or less."
"Herode."
"From what we saw earlier, there's no need to verify the truth of it. I think we can at least talk."
At Herode's response, MASTER nodded.
"Very well. Then let me tell you. During the last great war, we opposed the Chief God and fled to this land. A long time has passed—we know that war ended long ago. But we chose to live in this place. It's partly because we can't go back, but we have no intention of returning to the surface."
"Hmm."
The last great war. The Chief God. Plenty of questions came to mind, but Pakira kept his reactions to simple acknowledgments.
"We no longer hold anything against the Chief God, nor against Yomid. That is why we ask for your help. We want Yomid to convey our plea to the Chief God."
"Why through Yomid?"
"Because Yomid is close to the Chief God."
"Hmm. Very well. And what exactly is this plea?"
"We want you to save our people."
There was a desperate, clinging tremor in MASTER's words and voice.
Pakira quietly drew in a breath.