Everything is Anime! Chapter 88: Still Going... (Patreon)

Honestly, even if he missed them, it wouldn’t be a big deal—at most he’d lose out on two more Authorities.

But it wasn’t just about missing out; he couldn’t hand over these Heretic Gods to someone else—especially not the original protagonist, Kusanagi Godou.

That guy’s annoyingly indecisive personality was the stuff of legend. If Hikaru ended up going to Japan to set free the Sun Wukong and Kusanagi Godou was still around, he’d probably cause Hikaru no end of grief.

At least for the time being, Hikaru was beating him to the punch. A ten-hour flight was more than enough to get there before anything else happened.

…

Over the next stretch of time, Hikaru closed his eyes to rest. Even though he didn’t require a special place or schedule, he could still cultivate his Immortal Arts anywhere, anytime.

Yes, he had just obtained new Authorities, but that didn’t mean he’d neglect his other abilities.
Thanks to his passive gift of “Heaven Rewards Diligence,” even if the starting point for his magic power, his holy light, and his Immortal Arts might not be as high as an Authority, they all boasted limitless potential.

With constant effort, they wouldn’t necessarily be any weaker. The difference lay only in initial strength: Authorities shot up quickly, while the others rose more steadily.

Having nothing better to do, Ddraig returned to the spirit space for a nap. Est nibbled on snacks from the airplane’s small pantry, with Liliana helping out.

Though they hadn’t spent much time together, she took a quick liking to the child. Est stayed quiet and calm, more mature than her apparent age suggested—though, in truth, Est’s age could make Liliana’s grandmother’s grandmother look young.

Since Est hardly needed any looking after, aside from replenishing her snacks, Liliana spent the bulk of her time contacting Bronze Black Cross HQ and occasionally stealing glances at Hikaru.

Yes, “stealing glances.” An odd phrase for someone as proud and accomplished as Liliana, but that was exactly what was happening. Hikaru’s features were too striking.

The first time she laid eyes on him in that cave, she’d been momentarily stunned—but it was dim there, plus the sudden arrival of the Heretic Gods had left her consumed with fear and tension.

Even so, a good 70 or 80 percent of her attention had still been drawn to his face.

When she met him at the hotel later, the shock of learning he was now a Campione kept her from daring to stare at him head-on. Now, at last, she had an excuse to sneak as many peeks as she wanted, and every glance only made her want to look more. Her heart raced; she was almost in a daze.

It wasn’t as though the world lacked handsome men, especially all those meticulously edited photos on the internet.

But meet them in person and, well... They were usually just “P-picture monsters,” up close full of pores, hairs, scars, little moles—every minor imperfection laid bare.

But in Liliana’s eyes, Hikaru’s face was like flawless white jade, practically glowing. She swore she wasn’t exaggerating.

With her witch-enhanced eyesight, sharper than a fighter pilot’s, she couldn’t find a single flaw. How could such a man exist?!

She wondered if this was just how a Campione looked by nature. But no, she’d seen the faces of Marquis Voban and Salvatore Doni, the King of Sword. Both looked thoroughly ordinary; they just had unique auras. Voban was practically “Stay away if you value your life,” while Doni was basically a musclehead idiot.

People only followed him in the Seven Sisters Alliance because they had no alternative.

Liliana tried to maintain a calm facade, but inside she was screaming. She felt a rush of creative inspiration, a desire to write up everything that had happened. There wasn’t much else to do at the moment, so jotting down her thoughts in secret should be fine, right?

In the middle of writing, however, she dozed off. Too much had happened that day, and she was still human—unlike a Campione who never seemed to get tired from battle alone.

Half-conscious, Liliana felt someone tapping her shoulder. It turned out to be crew staff from the plane, which belonged to the Bronze Black Cross. They gently woke her up and informed her that “the Lord Campione and his sister” had already disembarked.

She jolted awake at once—only then noticing a blanket tucked over her, and her black notepad and pen tidily set on her tray table.

“M-may I ask who covered me with this blanket?”

“It was the Master himself,” one attendant replied softly. “He asked me not to disturb you, but... we got a message from HQ asking for you, and why you weren’t responding.”

Liliana felt something in her heart twang and snap, but now was no time to fixate on it. She stored her notebook, hurried off the plane—and found a huge crowd of people assembled outside: not just Bronze Black Cross, but also members of other groups within the Seven Sisters Alliance, plus a host of smaller magic associations.

The sight took her breath away. She certainly hadn’t told anyone other than HQ she was coming. Then again, the other associations were probably reacting to the faintest whiff of a story. Bronze Black Cross had tried to keep things under wraps, but apparently those “Three-Brother” Indian sorcerers had already spread the word in Rome’s magical circles, some presumably hoping to curry favor with Hikaru.

The Indian sorcerers didn’t have the best global reputation, but none was foolish enough to fabricate tall tales about a Campione.

In any case, receiving the tip, all these different groups had shown up. This wasn’t Sardinia yet, though. From the info Hikaru got, weather near Sardinia was currently terrible—wild storms, strong winds, enough electromagnetic disruption to hamper communications, plus huge thunderclouds.

Planes couldn’t fly through it, so they had to land here temporarily and proceed by boat to the island. Since the message had arrived mid-flight, Hikaru simply agreed to the plan. It wouldn’t cost him much time.

As for the assembled sorcerers itching for an audience, Hikaru saw them as sharks smelling blood. He had no need to speak with them. If a Campione decided to ignore them, they wouldn’t dare slack off. That was the privilege of a god-slayer’s status, not something granted by others.

“Liliana, get the ferry ready. I’m heading to Sardinia now.”

They could enjoy the local hospitality later. Right now, nothing was more important than slaying another god.