Chapter 152: Heroic Spirits and the Underworld Monarch

Diarmuid?!

Kurama's tone was brimming with delightful surprise.

"You're awake?"

Unlike the previous few brief, emergency-like awakenings, this time Kurama clearly sensed the majestic and rich aura of magical energy emanating from his Servant.

This was an aura absent in Servant projections manifested through the Holy Grail; it was something that should only belong to the true bodies of Heroic Spirits.

Had he not completely broken free from the lingering effects of his deep slumber, such an aura could never have appeared around Diarmuid.

Faintly recalling back in the Saint Seiya world when he had accompanied Hades to Northern Europe in search of the golden stone tablet left behind by the Norse gods, that mysterious orb of light had uninvitedly merged into the miniature Throne of Heroes...

The message Kurama had received from Diarmuid at that time clearly stated that it would take at most a few more months for the Lancer to successfully awaken. Yet, unexpectedly, after spending over five years in the Naruto world, Kurama had still failed to welcome the true return of his Servant.

Naturally, the demon fox was not without anxiety and worry. However, although the information transmitted from the miniature Throne of Heroes was vague, it consistently conveyed one core message: Diarmuid was in no danger.

From the muddled information, Kurama roughly deduced that the density of the energy that had charged into the miniature Throne of Heroes at the time somewhat exceeded his Servant's expectations. Therefore, while he had absorbed enough to rouse him from his slumber, the remaining portion could not simply be stopped at the Lancer's will once absorption had begun.

Consequently, to digest and absorb this excess energy, Diarmuid had to sleep in the miniature Throne of Heroes for an even longer period. Until today, until this very moment, he had truly and completely awakened from his long slumber...

The dark-haired Servant looked at Kurama with a gaze as tender as rippling water.

"My Lord... Lord Kurama..."

His tone and expression were overwhelmingly gentle as he softly responded to Kurama's call. Yet, in stark contrast, his hand moved with ruthless and fierce momentum, thrusting his spear forward to swat away the white ray of light that had been flying toward Kurama!

How dare a mere rat employ such a cowardly method to sneak attack my Lord!

The moment his gaze shifted to the white ray of light—which had been forcefully "stuffed" back onto the coffee table by his powerful strike—it instantly turned icy and sharp. The prowess of the "Glarious Face," which possessed a captivating and strange beauty amidst the imposing presence of the spear-wielding dark-haired knight, fully bloomed at this very moment!

"Chief Knight of the Fianna, Servant of my Lord, Diarmuid ua Díorma is here! Despicable creature, summon your master and fight me!"

Twin spears—one red, one yellow, one long, one short—twirled a dazzling and elegant flower of light before him. The Lancer pressed his thin lips together, his gaze burning like a torch. The entire man looked like an unsheathed sharp blade, possessing an arresting and heroic magnificence!

"Diarmuid is so handsome!"

At some point, Mokona had quietly sneaked out of the bedroom, its tiny body cradled in the palm of the Underworld King's chest. With its chubby hands cupping its cheeks, it said in a rapturous (?) tone.

Hearing this, His Majesty lowered his head and gave the creature an unfathomable look.

The white fluff-ball raised its head and met his gaze innocently.

"Mew?"

It tilted its head cutely, its eyes filled with utter bewilderment.

Hades locked eyes with it for a few seconds. Suddenly, he raised a hand and applied a slight bit of force, effortlessly messing up the soft fur that Kurama had just wiped dry and straightened for the little fellow...

"Yikes~ Hades, you're mean!!"

The white fluff-ball shrieked, wriggling back and forth in the Underworld King's palm.

The dark-haired deity continued to ruffle it with an expressionless face.

Soon, the ticklish little creature was utterly subdued, lying limp and paralyzed in His Majesty's palm, too lazy to even struggle.

Seizing the moment to halt his movements, the Underworld King's lake-calm, deep emerald eyes faintly flashed with a trace of amusement.

He lifted his eyes and, unremarkably, met the knowing and helpless gaze of his lover, as well as the bewildered and alert stare of the handsome Heroic Spirit who claimed to be his lover's "Servant." The Underworld King imperceptibly curved the corners of his lips, his demeanor entirely composed and at ease.

"My Lord, who is this...?"

Diarmuid's attention predictably shifted away from the now harmless little ball of light toward the Underworld King—whose overwhelming and terrifying aura, despite being restrained to the utmost, still occasionally leaked out enough to send chills down one's spine.

The Servant's expected posture of deep vigilance and his lover's clearly deliberate "childish" act made the demon fox secretly shake his head in a mixture of helplessness and amusement.

Stepping forward, he placed a hand on the Lancer's tensed shoulder. After a moment of thought, the demon fox decided to truthfully reveal his lover's identity to his Servant.

"This is Hades. My lover."

He said softly, as if completely unaware of the extremely obvious stiffness transmitted through the hand resting beneath him the moment his lover's name left his lips—

"That's right. Exactly 'that' Hades you're thinking of."

"......?????"

Hearing this, the dark-haired Servant widened his eyes in astonishment. For a moment, the entire room fell utterly silent...

***

With his worldview severely impacted, the Lancer ultimately dragged his remarkably floaty footsteps back to his room to rest.

Thus, the living room was once again left with only four occupants: Kurama, Hades, and the two sleeping gods.

—Ah! No!

One must also include Mokona, who had been woken up.

The little fellow was contentedly held in Kurama's arms, relishing the exquisite pastries fed to it by the demon fox. The carefree, happy, and satisfied look on its face gave a certain God of Death an inexplicable stomachache...

"That little thing was definitely doing that on purpose just now, right?"

He reached out and poked his blonde older brother beside him.

Even if he had his soft fur mischievously ruffled by His Majesty, it shouldn't have been unbearable enough to make him yell and laugh that loudly.

The reason the fluff-ball acted so exaggeratedly was actually... to attract the attention of that Diarmuid fellow, right?

Although Thanatos preferred the simple and brutal approach of directly crushing opponents with brute strength rather than meticulously scheming and plotting, that didn't mean he was completely brainless.

While thinking this with a sense of gratification, Hypnos reached out and grabbed the God of Death's restless claws:

"If you figured it out, then shut your mouth."

Hypnos could roughly guess what the black-sesame-filled dumpling was plotting.

Precisely because he could guess a little, Hypnos was all the more reluctant to let himself and Thanatos get dragged into it.

Are you kidding me?!

That fluff-ball had the Queen of the Underworld shielding him, and despite his cute and innocent appearance, he was exceptionally adept at measuring boundaries. Even if he occasionally did something slightly out of line, it would never reach the point where His Majesty would hold a grudge.

However, if he and Thanatos were to do the exact same thing...

Thinking of how a casual jest of calling him "Queen of the Underworld" back then had forced both him and Thanatos to leave His Majesty's side for a full five years (though admittedly, there was also the reason that they truly needed to go out and execute their own missions), the smile on Hypnos's originally rational and ascetic handsome face gradually faded. He left his foolish younger brother with a familiar, heart-palpitatingly "gentle" fake smile—

"Did you hear me?"

"............" Thanatos nodded silently.

If Hypnos weren't still firmly holding onto his hand, he would have wanted to leave the room right then and there!

He had a lingering feeling that after Hypnos's remark, the subsequent developments were going to become extremely... subtle?

The dark-haired God of Death, possessing an incomparable wild (?) intuition, turned his face away and silently gazed at the ceiling.

The God of Sleep pinched his palm.

The little interaction between the two completely escaped neither—or rather, they had never intended to evade—the gazes of Kurama and Hades.

The Underworld King and the demon fox exchanged a tacit glance.

Then...

Nothing happened.

Unlike the contradictory expectations of Thanatos and Hypnos, who harbored both anticipation and fear, their subsequent conversation did not revolve around the newly appeared Lancer or the previous scene. Instead, it returned to the topic that had been discussed when Kurama returned to the living room after tending to Mokona—

"What on earth... is this thing?"

Kurama reached out and flicked the tiny sphere of light, which seemed to be entirely encapsulated within some sort of invisible energy field.

The moment his fingertips touched the surface of the orb, the white mist surging and fluctuating within the sphere violently shuddered, violently colliding, roaring, and churning inside the transparent casing, as if struggling desperately to break free...

Seeing this, the demon fox slightly curved the corners of his lips.

"Do you think the same trick will work on us twice?"

He said with a smile, flicking the small ball back and forth with his finger, sending it spinning and tumbling uncontrollably across the smooth glass tabletop.

The white mist trapped inside the sphere, forced to rotate irregularly along with it, surged back with an even more ferocious counterattack.

The smile on Kurama's lips deepened.

"Previously... I truly underestimated you."

He spoke in a tone that was a mix of emotional sentiment and gratification, sounding immensely cheerful.

This abnormal emotion caused the frantic counterattack of the white mist inside the orb to pause momentarily.

Yet, the demon fox paid it no heed.

"Although it was merely a casual, fragile little barrier set up on a whim, you actually managed to render it useless without a sound..."

At this point, Kurama paused. Then, he raised his head and looked gently across the table at the blonde God of Sleep—who was trying his absolute best to minimize his and Thanatos's presence in hopes that he and Hades would fail to notice them—

"Well? Hypnos?"

He said softly.

"Isn't this... of great research significance and value?"

"Uh..."

The questioned deity was slightly startled.

However, he quickly snapped out of his trance, and an expression of standard academic zeal—one that had become quite familiar to Kurama—slowly bloomed across his face...

"Of course it is!"

Saying this, the blonde deity unhesitatingly reached out and took the trembling, transparent sphere of light from the demon fox. His expression remained obscured against the backlight, and the only thing visible was the eerie arc curving at the corner of his mouth that sent chills down one's spine...

"How fascinating..."

He whispered softly, brimming with amusement.

***

Just as Kurama and his companions were discussing and allocating their spoils (?), elsewhere, on the rooftop of a certain tavern not far from the inn where they were staying...

A blonde, handsome man wearing light purple glasses and a skateboard-riding teenager with a large pair of headphones hanging around his neck stood in the center of the empty rooftop, facing each other in silence.

"Totsuka-san's... of... where did he go?"

The skateboarder's lips trembled repeatedly, yet no matter how many times he tried, he could not successfully utter the word "corpse."

Picking up the DV camera that had fallen to the side and viewing the sequence of events recorded on the screen, the blonde young man averted his gaze, unsure of how to respond.

Was this an accident, or a conspiracy... targeting HOMRA, targeting Suo?

The youth lowered his head, looking at the old-fashioned DV camera clutched in his hand, gripped with such excessive and unconscious force that it was almost on the verge of cracking—

Totallu...