Glenn halted at once and turned toward the giant’s shrouded face.

  After several seconds of silence, a faint cascade of dust slipped from the seams of the helm, and an indistinct yet unmistakable gaze settled upon him.

  “Was that you speaking?” Glenn asked, shifting back into his Tier-Five werewolf form.

  The voice resurfaced in his mind, ignoring the question entirely. “A werewolf? Not quite. No werewolf could possess power such as yours…”

  Though the giant offered no direct reply, Glenn was now certain the voice belonged to the colossus before him.

  “And you—what exactly are you? How are you still alive in such a state?” Glenn asked, as casually as one might chat with an old companion.

  But the giant seemed irritated that Glenn lacked recognition. A hurried, thunderous voice boomed through his mind:

  “You mean to tell me you do not know the illustrious God of Twilight and War! The Steward of Silsas! The Mightiest Warrior of the Earth! The King of Behemoth—!?”

  Glenn rubbed his temples as the resonance buzzed in his skull, pausing before responding:

  “Hate to disappoint you, but I truly haven’t heard a single one of those titles. And besides…”

  He gestured faintly at the ruin around them. “…this place doesn’t quite match the grandeur your titles suggest.”

  Silence settled, followed by a wave of desolation seeping out from the giant’s frame.

  “True enough. Time is merciless. Whatever glory I once possessed has long been buried. Those weren’t honors anyway—merely lies woven by the gods.”

  The once-majestic voice grew bleak.

  Glenn, however, found his curiosity stirred. “Lies woven by the gods? You actually had dealings with deities? You aren’t just making that up?”

  “Heh.” The voice brimmed with derision. “Have the gods become so distant in the minds of your era? They delight in such… illusions.”

  So in this giant’s age, gods walked far closer to mortals. But now? They had all but vanished. Glenn sifted through the original owner’s memories and found nothing useful—naturally, the man had known little beyond play and leisure.

  “Which gods are known to your people now?” the giant asked.

  Glenn scratched his head. “There are supposed to be ten main gods… Sun God Borom, God of Justice Arkachira, Star-Glory Goddess Pua, and… and a few others I can’t quite remember. As for the dark gods, I have no clue. Oh—there’s also a Demon Lord… whatever his name was.”

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  The giant’s mood shifted from sorrow to speechless disbelief. He finally interrupted Glenn’s pointless rummaging through memory:

  “Enough. If you cannot even recall their names, I can well imagine their diminished stature. Hmph. Let us leave them aside, little one. Tell me—would you desire greater power?”

  “How great?” Glenn arched a brow, inwardly scoffing. Ah yes—the classic setup…

  “Far greater than what you wield now. So long as you do not stand against a Supreme Archmage or a Knight-King, you would be nigh invincible.”

  The giant spoke with absolute confidence.

  Glenn snorted softly. Did the giant take him for a child? Nothing comes without a price. “Go on. What’s the condition?”

  “I do enjoy dealing with intelligent folk,” the giant murmured approvingly. “My body is beyond repair. My soul requires a new vessel, and yours is more than capable of bearing its weight. Fear not—you would suffer no harm. In fact, your soul’s resilience would increase.”

  “Yeah, no thanks. I’m not gambling my body on that.” Glenn slung the crimson greatsword over his shoulder and started to leave.

  “Wait.” The giant attempted to call out, but Glenn showed no intention of stopping.

  With a sigh, the titan spoke again. “Let us renegotiate. How about this?”

  Only then did Glenn pause and turn back, waiting.

  “You appear to be a novice mage. With the last of my strength, I can expand your body’s capacity for magic. Your progress along the arcane path will accelerate immensely—saving you many years.”

  Glenn lowered his head thoughtfully. But first—“What’s the price?”

  “Kill someone for me,” the giant answered, voice turning glacial.

  “Kill someone?” Glenn frowned.

  “This giant’s enemy? Surely dead by now?” Glenn voiced his doubt.

  “He should still live. He is an elven Grand Mage—his lifespan is long indeed,” the giant explained.

  Glenn nodded. “What kind of person is he? I need to know whether he deserves to die.”

  “He was once my subordinate—Aflay. A strategist. But he was truly a believer of that wretched Silver Goddess. From the beginning, they were merely using me. Once I accomplished what they wanted, they sought to erase me. Had I not kept a reserve of strength, I would already be gone.

  “Aflay is a fanatic in every sense—he would commit any atrocity to fulfill the goddess’s commands. Countless humans died by his hand, and many of his own kin as well. Rest assured—he is no innocent. Quite the opposite. His sins are immeasurable.”

  Upon hearing this, Glenn nodded without hesitation. “Very well. If what you say is true, that elf named Aflay is as good as dead.”

  Silence fell eerily. Just as Glenn wondered whether the giant had drifted off, intending to call out to him—

  An invisible force washed over Glenn. Something shifted within his body; the power that interfered with elemental magic surged dramatically.

  Finally, the strength faded. When the giant spoke again, his voice was frail:

  “It is done. Our pact is sealed. I trust you will honor it.”

  Glenn hesitated, then asked tentatively, “Are you dying?”

  “Yes. Death means little to me now. The world I knew is gone. Only a faint bitterness remains.”

  The great body began to tilt forward.

  “You actually wanted to kill that Silver Goddess most of all, didn’t you?”

  “And what of it? You could never lay a hand on a god…”

  With a thunderous crash, the giant’s form collapsed fully.

  Glenn murmured softly, “Who knows what the future holds.”