The Ritual

From that point onward, Kuuga’s days revolved around Keiry and observing Mr. Green.

Keiry apparently harbored a complex toward Kurone. Kurone was capable and never flaunted it, treating everyone equally with a gentle, calm demeanor. He was popular among the acolytes and even the priests held him in high regard.

There was some genuine admiration for him, but inevitably, whenever he made a mistake, Keiry would sigh that he was hopeless compared to him.

‘If you ask me, that’s an act. He’s got a pretty rotten personality.’

Kuuga would mutter, not that he could possibly understand. In such times, all he could do was quietly offer comfort by staying close.

As for Mr. Green, his daily habit seemed to be practicing sword swings at dawn. One would have thought him a soldier from this, yet during the day, his work appeared more clerical in nature. Kuuga couldn’t tell whether keeping his body in shape was a hobby, a necessity, or just the way of this world.

Despite the constant shadow of despair in his eyes, the man was not a hopeless shut-in; he spoke to others when required, though the way he looked at people was harsh indeed. Even when conversation was strictly necessary, his chilling gaze made it clear he did not trust whoever he was talking to for a second. Those were dangerous eyes.

Of all people, he interacted the most with his apparent superior, and his manner there was marginally better—though “trust” was still a stretch.

Still, it was only his eyes that betrayed his feelings; openly criticizing or insulting others was something he never did. It gave the impression of a man who, while fully conscious of his own emotions, nevertheless managed to hold himself in check out of necessity.

When Kuuga finally ignored Kurone long enough, Kurone stopped coming altogether, leaving Kuuga to peer endlessly into the spring and slip out the window only when Keiry visited.

So the days passed, and just as he was becoming well and truly bored with the routine, the ten days Ada had mentioned finally elapsed.

◇　◇　◇　◇

“Excuse me.”

It was early morning when Ada reappeared for the first time in a while, his strange excitement barely concealed—perhaps he was looking forward to this ritual he’d spoken of.

“All the candidates have gathered, so as soon as you’re ready, we’ll begin the ritual. May we proceed?”

‘It’s not as if I have a choice… And what exactly is this ritual, anyway?’

“To be able to witness this day is an honor.”

‘You aren’t even listening to me, are you?’

Ada seemed motivated only by the act of speaking to Kuuga and receiving some kind of reaction from him. When Kuuga, having given up seeking clarification, lowered himself to the floor, Ada departed in high spirits.

About an hour later, the commotion began: the pounding of many feet, horses’ neighs, voices giving orders—all slowly approaching his chamber.

First the soldiers filed in. Each and every one flinched as they took in the sight of Kuuga on the altar; the fear in their eyes only made Kuuga gloomier, a fresh reminder that an enormous beast’s form was always frightening to people.

Doing their best to avoid meeting his gaze, the soldiers bowed and pressed themselves against the walls. Then, led by Ada, a host of splendidly dressed men and women entered.

Ada had mentioned needing ten days to gather “candidates.” These people, then, must be the very candidates he’d meant. But… the candidates for what?

Ten men, five women. They lined up shoulder-to-shoulder before the altar. To Kuuga’s shock, Mr. Green stood among them.

But it was not merely his presence that surprised Kuuga—somehow, Mr. Green’s beautiful green eyes were shining, sparkling so brightly he half-expected laser beams to shoot out. They blazed with impossible intensity.

Kuuga stared, dumbfounded, as Ada approached and bowed to him.

“Divine Beast, the ritual will now begin.”

‘…Ritual…?’

Was he expected to do something? Though he was much more interested in what was happening to Green’s eyes.

Perhaps Kuuga’s bewildered sound was interpreted as a response, for Ada addressed the assembled fifteen directly, offering no further explanation.

“These are your candidates. Please, make your choice.”

‘…Choose?’

Apparently, the ritual consisted of selecting someone from among them. But for what? Surely not to select a mere attendant—no one would gather so many resplendent people for that.

Or could it be—they wouldn’t be so brazen as to call for a sacrifice, would they…? The thought made Kuuga shudder. If someone asked him to eat one of them, he’d be at a loss.

With no better idea, Kuuga decided to simply give in to his curiosity—he had to know what was happening with Green’s eyes.

He jumped down from the altar and made a beeline for Mr. Green. Watching him up close, Kuuga thought, “He still looks like hell.” When Green realized Kuuga was approaching him, his expression turned to one of surprise.

The other fourteen also seemed to notice where Kuuga was headed, murmurs of distress rippling through the line.

“It can’t be…”

“Gadilas, of all people…?!”

“The blood of that low woman…!”

Snatches of conversation drifted to his ears, but Kuuga was utterly captivated by those strangely gleaming eyes. How could they shine like that? He wanted to get even closer.

Whether Green was wary of Kuuga’s beastly form or simply frozen in shock, he did not move. When Kuuga placed a paw on his unmoving frame, Green seemed to understand, dropping to one knee. At last, Kuuga could approach the dazzling eyes head on.

At that moment, the radiance blazing from Green’s eyes poured into Kuuga’s own, flooding his vision with light so intense he had to clamp his eyes shut. He heard Green gasp, too, as if he’d felt something at that very instant.

“The pact has been fulfilled.”

While Kuuga grumbled softly at the pain in his eyes, Ada’s delighted voice rang out and made him start in surprise.

Ada strode toward them with a theatrical air, then dropped to one knee and bowed low before Mr. Green. When Kuuga looked at him, Green wore a complicated, rather displeased expression—and mysteriously, his eyes had reverted to their ordinary green.

“Gadilas Ria Idios, chosen by the Divine Beast, our new King.”

‘King?!’

The word sent a shock through Kuuga’s body. It couldn’t be—as if choosing meant… he had chosen the King!

So that was it! The candidates here must have all been royalty.

No—someone should have said something! Explained! He’d just picked the person he liked best! Was that really allowed?

He wanted to protest—wanted to very much—but there was no way his voice would ever reach them. Resigned, Kuuga let his ears droop just a little.

But wasn’t being chosen as king supposed to be an honor? Yet the man—apparently truly named Gadilas—still wore that complex, dark look.

Half of those left were openly crushed, while the rest seemed either disinterested or relieved not to be chosen, and one looked as though he simply liked animals. Clearly, not everyone desired the crown.

Still, was it really right, he wondered, for someone to become king at the whim of an incomprehensible beast? Some of the disappointed ones looked like they absolutely could not accept this outcome, but none voiced any complaints. Kuuga expected someone to shout, “Such a choice should be void!” Yet there was only silence; the whole thing struck him as deeply odd.

Was it wrong of him to have chosen Gadilas, who seemed anything but pleased? Kuuga glanced up to gauge his mood, only for the man to rest a hand gently atop his head.

It was the first time since his transformation that anyone had willingly touched him.

He had initiated contact before, but no one had ever stroked his fur as if he were a normal dog. Kuuga felt a faint joy well up and pressed against Gadilas’s hand, tail wagging.

Though the man didn’t smile, he petted Kuuga with the same dour face. At least he wasn’t frightened of him—that was a relief.