Chapter 900 900: The Lucky Rabbit
"Why does everything have to be so complicated!?"
"You should start to relax, Miss Pepondosovich. It has already been a few days."
"But our torment still continues!"
A few days after gaining another clue to a cosmic piece, Riley and the others were once again traveling the lands of Manirosa — completely finding themselves in a new country where the land was almost a sea of snow; where the snow was coming from, was completely unknown even to Miss Pepondosovich.
Right now, they were just casually walking through the snow; their legs almost hidden. Although none of them were really feeling cold, they still wore thick clothes and jackets to prevent being suspected as gods. Of course, they could just say they were granted a god's boon, but what if it was another nosy god who discovered them?
Miss Pepondosovich had told Esme and Riley that they were actually incredibly lucky that they hadn't encountered one of those nosy gods yet — as there were actually plenty of them roaming around the mortal world.
Gods who are just here specifically to troll other gods and report them when they can. They were mostly gods who had been in the Domain of the Gods for hundreds of thousands of years. After all, entertainment is scarce in the domain.
As a matter of fact, Miss Pepondosovich knows so much about them… because she used to be one of them.
"Us damn it!" Miss Pepondosovich stomped her foot on the ground, and if it was not for Riley stopping the snow from moving, she would have probably cleared the entire terrain, "How am I supposed to be a god of luck, if this is the kind of luck I have!?"
"A god of luck?" Riley tilted his head to the side, "I thought you were a rabbit god, Miss Pepondosovich."
"...What's a rabbit?" Miss Pepondosovich squinted her eyes as she looked at Riley, "No, it doesn't matter. I'm not whatever that god is — I am a god of luck!"
Miss Pepondosovich then placed her hands on her waist as she puffed out her tiny chest, "More specifically, the God of Lucky Feet!"
"You are right to question your authenticity, Miss Pepondosovich," Esme nodded.
"No, no!" Miss Pepondosovich formed her hand into an 'X', "The fact that we are even getting clues means that I am still lucky! My feet, as my title suggests, lead to luck! Even right now, we are probably heading to where the child's brother has died, or at least some clues to it."
"The letter did say he lived in a city in this country before he died, Miss Pepondosovich," Esme nodded.
"I am still not fully acquainted with that concept, Miss Pepondosovich," Riley placed his hand on his chin, "I know I proclaimed myself to be the God of Nothing, but that is all it is — a proclamation."
"You are what you think you are, Riri," Miss Pepondosovich shook her head, "After all, everything that you have been through, has led you to become what you are when you step foot in the Domain of the Gods."
"Hm," Riley squinted his eyes.
"Then it would seem I do not truly belong here, Miss Pepondosovich," Esme let out a long and deep sigh; enough to create a mist from the vapor coming out of her mouth, "I am not even a god."
"The fact that you are still here means that you are," Miss Pepondosovich wagged her finger, "If you weren't, you would have been kicked out as soon as you were resurrected from being an undead."
"But I do not know what kind of god I am, Miss Pepondosovich," Esme once again sighed, "I can not be a god of the undead, since I am no longer one."
"Meh, you'll find it in time," Miss Pepondosovich patted Esme's shoulder, "You're young. You're like what, ten thousand years old?"
"Not even 300, Miss Pepondosovich," Esme shook her head.
"...Why are the two of you so young? What are they feeding you in your universe?"
"..." Esme did not answer.
"That—" Miss Pepondosovich could really only close her eyes as she remembered Esme became an undead and probably even ate some of her own kind, "...Sorry."
And while the three were having a casual conversation while on their search for a cosmic piece, Darkday was currently casually walking around a city.
It was the city he had already previously destroyed when Father Edmund and him were about to fight. But now, it was once again standing as if nothing happened to it — but of course, it was clear that something truly did happen to it. As the once lively city was no longer filled with people — there was only Darkday walking with his hands behind his back. Well… maybe he wasn't alone.
"Knock, knock," Darkday stopped in front of one of the houses. And instead of knocking, he just verbally worded out his intent as he stood facing the door, "I am coming in, Father Edmund. I was wondering what you wanted to eat so I could—"
And as soon as Darkday opened the door, he was welcomed by a beam of light that completely melted away his arm and entire right shoulder.
"You missed," Darkday let out a quiet giggle as Edmund's eyes were reflected on the visor of his helmet.
"That was not for you," all of Edmund's eyes closed; his wings retracting as he just calmly stood in the house, "That was a signal for the other gods — once they see that, they would know that a god is using his abilities and they would immediately check out who it is."
"Oh, impressive," Darkday clapped his hands while stepping inside the house; the door behind him, immediately closing as soon as he was inside, "So, what would you like to eat?"
"...What?" Edmund watched as Darkday just casually walked around the house, before ultimately stopping in front of the unusually modern kitchen; completely out of place from the rest of the house that seemed medieval. There was even a refrigerator.
"What would you like to eat?" Darkday asked again as he pulled something small from the pockets of his suit. But as he placed it on the counter, it suddenly turned bigger into a pound of… meat, "I hunted this monster in the forest, it's a rib of a 6-legged cow. I do not know what it will taste like, so why don't we eat it together, Father Edmund?"
"Did you not hear what I just said?" Edmund gritted his teeth, "I may not be a match to you alone, but if another god comes, you will die."
"Do you want it seared or grilled?" Darkday completely ignored Edmund's words as he grabbed a knife from his pockets and started trimming the ribs.
"I am not in the mood for your evil games, Darkday!" Edmund waved his hand, "You will become one of the Fallen soon!"
"This beef has quite the marbling in it. Although I do not really fancy how this animal could have eaten humans," Darkday sighed, "Humans eat a lot of weird things — I would know because I do too."
"You—"
"Oh?"
And before Father Edmund could finish his words, the house—no, the entire city started to quake as something seemed to have landed nearby.
"They're here," Edmund smiled before his face opened up and revealed his gigantic eye, "Do not think you can escape exile, Darkday."
"Well…" Darkday calmly placed the knife he was holding on the counter as he finally glanced at Edmund, "...It's a good thing the animal was large. Now…
…Let's go meet your new neighbors, shall we?"
***
"Ah! Nice stuff. Carrot soup is always the best for cold weather like this."
"The only thing you eat are carrots, Miss Pepondosovich."
"She also eats grass, Miss Esme."
"Grea's Grass is different!"
After walking through the snow for what seemed like an eternity, Riley and the others found themselves inside a cozy tavern filled with people — all of them, either drinking soup or hot liquor.
"May I ask you something about Grea, Miss Pepondosovich?" Riley asked as he took a sip of hot milk, "I know Grea is a god of grass, but she does not seem to utilize it as a part of her abilities."
"Hm," Miss Pepondosovich nodded, "Grea is a Strength-type god. Or more specifically, everything she wants to be strong, becomes strong — her skin, her weapons, her arms… everything. But she puts them all in the grass she creates since it makes her feel comfortable. Her story when she was a mortal was not really a good one."
"What type of god are you then? Besides being lucky, Miss Pepondosovich," Esme also took a sip of warm milk, clearly imitating Riley.
"I suppose I'm also a Strength-type," Miss Pepondosovich shrugged, "My legs are stronger than most gods."
"I suppose I am also a Strength-type, then," Esme nodded, "Maybe that is what I am, a God of Strength?"
"Oh — only one has the right to bear that title…" Miss Pepondosovich squinted at Esme, "...But you might have a shot. Let us go to the City of Warriors after all of this is done."
"Hm."
"But for now," Miss Pepondosovich sighed as she raised the letter and stared at it, "We need to find someone who actually knows where this Clint guy lived, or at least where he died. We should start asking these people soon, maybe they know—"
"That letter… why do you have it?" And before Miss Pepondosovich could finish her words, a woman suddenly approached them; her eyes, slightly trembling as she stared at the letter.
"See?" A small smile slowly started to crawl on Miss Pepondosovich's face,
"Lucky feet."