Overgeared

Reidan Desert.

Hayate’s body lay neatly in the middle of those who were still recovering after the battle. His eyes were closed, and his chest was unmoving.

Hayate’s body wasn’t breathing. It had lost its soul, no longer serving any purpose. It was nothing more than a corpse.

“...It will soon start to rot,” Zeratul told the others. He grimaced, despite the high levels of arrogance he, as the Martial God, displayed.

Thanks to sharing drinks all night, he could somewhat grasp how the people around him felt. Just as the eight gods who had descended alongside Zeratul to challenge Grid had already demonstrated, gods were surprisingly capable of empathizing with others. It was just that, most gods didn’t even get the chance to socialize with humans. For many, the idea of living alongside humanity wasn’t even conceivable. For them, Asgard was the core of their world, their most valued place. Therefore, they rotted for the rest of their lives in Asgard, like frogs in a well.

“It can’t be too late to save him...”

The tower members didn’t disagree with Zeratul’s opinion. However, they also noticed that Hayate’s condition was perilous, and they couldn’t conceal their anxiety.

Nevertheless, no one suggested going to find Hayate right away. They trusted and respected Lauel’s advice, that the right thing to do was leaving the search for the soul to Knight.

They also understood the importance of their task. They were to focus on the body’s recovery, and they kept wondering to what degree they needed to recover in order to help Grid.

“......”

The people’s reactions were making Zeratul feel disappointed. Humans, ephemeral beings with such short lives. Even he, who had been born with eternal life, was always anxious and obsessed over the title of Martial God. Meanwhile, humans appeared to be more altruistic and wiser than him. This was because they managed to overcome their own limitations by trusting others and cooperation with their people.

Zeratul believed the humans’ way of thinking was worthy of imitation.

‘Should I try contacting them...?’

His mind wandered in the direction of the eight gods who had cooperated with him when he had publicly challenged Grid. Maybe they had opened up their hearts to him a little bit. Of course, it could be mere sympathy. It seemed very likely that they would only accept cooperating with him if there was some type of reward to be earned.

Still, it was true that they did him a favor. However, he never considered their feelings. He just struggled on his own to be recognized as the Martial God.

He was only ever focused on himself, and never paid attention to others...

“......!”

Zeratul was startled from his thoughts, eyes suddenly widening at the sight before him.

The others reacted similarly.

Hayate’s body, which had been lying dead, suddenly jumped up from his seat.

“I-Is he back?”

The tower members, the apostles and the Overgeared Guild all felt skeptical before allowing themselves to feel thrilled.

Hayate’s eyes were unfocused. The people couldn’t detect breathing, let alone life.

“Something’s wrong.”

Zeratul frowned and slowly rose from his seat.

Step.

it had been torn to

then that Zeratul understood

is being driven by the

will of

understood, while

body finished putting on the armor, it slowly melted away, losing its shape like a painting

and Biban

“Don't worry.”

has been

presence was rising from

vaguely sensed

***

body felt different than

hammering in his chest. Energy flowed throughout his body. His bones were of different thickness and length. His

he could grip the sword hilt better than before. It seemed that the ways with which he could grip the hilt

now reaching its peak. He felt rejuvenated, like his body had become younger, though the sensation

[It feels strange...]

Hayate’s body. Just by looking at the way his fingers wrapped around the hilt of the sword, he could tell that Hayate’s swordsmanship was changing in real time. The

the body was in the process of joining with your soul... Isn’t this type of transformation unheard

It was as white as snow, though it appeared red in Dominion’s

Absolute, Dominion could accurately gain insight and glimpse at the essence of the soul. When Hayate’s body had been reconstructed, the same could be said about the dragon armor he’d been wearing. This configuration of the armor maintained Hayate’s ideals, while also retaining Grid’s

the surface in this state isn’t the right choice to be made. You will most likely hear the sound

Dominion was talking about Chiyou’s appearance. He was confirming that Hayate had become

go to

soul to heaven. However, things had changed right from the very beginning. Hayate had regained his body. Of course, this didn’t make it impossible to take his soul to heaven. Killing him again and subduing his soul would have been

he resurrected. The only ones who could reverse the death of humans were Rebecca, a god of the beginning, and Raiders,

then wasn’t wrong. It was Mother

Dominion not to care about the world. It originated from the time when humans had a sincere faith in the three religions. Dominion felt Judar’s jealousy

something that

time their mother entered the ‘cycle’. Dominion didn’t care about matters involving other gods, nor did he care about ruling Asgard, so would decide to remove himself as much as he could from such issues. After all, he was the god of war. His duty meant overseeing the army, not handling politics. Therefore, his attention was

very large. I promise to keep you

Valkyries were genuinely shocked. Then the

[Of course I know.]

aren’t you helping

[Help...? My mother?]

had a certain rigidness in his expression, but his reaction showed that he didn’t understand what was

was enough for Hayate to realize that Dominion saw Rebecca as the embodiment of

made sense. After all, he owed

it was famous gods or everything in this world,

goddess must be

comes to the god of

Dominion frowned.

It will be the same this time. Most

was made of light, she couldn’t be reached. There

Hayate sighed.

Are you going to turn your back to what’s really happening?” Hayate rarely raised his voice. His deep, gentle