Chapter 27: Hikigaya Hachiman Learns Another Foreign Language
The large bird behind Hikigaya was really quite eye-catching. Not to mention an ordinary person—even a magician might be dumbfounded seeing it. However, he himself seemed to be completely unaware of this.
"Hello!" he greeted.
Hikigaya couldn't speak Italian. Although Godslayers have a cheat-like ability when it comes to languages, they still need to be exposed to the language first. In his entire life, he had never heard Italian, so of course, he couldn't just start speaking it the moment he saw an Italian.
But clearly, he didn't realize that not every country in the world was obsessed with promoting the English language.
Take the city he had arrived in as an example. Here, apart from Italian, nothing else worked. Except for hotel staff, very few people understood English! In fact, their English was even worse—and that was for the ones who could speak it at all. Most people didn't speak it whatsoever.
So, after Hikigaya greeted the man, he was met with a "what the dog eyes just happened" expression.
Then came a flurry of incomprehensible words.
"What the hell is this?" Hikigaya furrowed his brows deeply.
But he quickly realized that the expression on the other person's face was just as confused as his own, and came to understand that he was wasting his time.
Once that clicked, Hikigaya grabbed the poor guy, who had been about to turn and run, and smiled slyly at him, teasing him to speak.
Hikigaya himself stood there, playing the role of a quiet, handsome man.
About a minute later, he discovered that he could speak Italian.
"Where is this place?" With his newly unlocked Italian, Hikigaya happily launched into round two of his conversation with the first Italian native he had met abroad.
"This is Olbia," the local replied, wearing an expression that screamed "you're such a bad, bad man."
Never mind the expression—but… what the hell was Olbia?
He had heard of Rome, and Venice, and even the Alps (which, in the news, often had avalanches that buried people so wonderfully), and of course he knew about Sardinia. As for the rest…
"Is this Sardinia?" Hikigaya decided to broaden the scope.
"Yes, this is Olbia," the local said again, still looking bewildered. Clearly, the guy didn't understand the relationship between Olbia and Sardinia, which left Hikigaya feeling out of place.
Hikigaya wasn't feeling it either. Asking for directions from Italians was exhausting. Why did they insist on saying "Olbia"? Couldn't they say something else?
Still, knowing it was Sardinia was enough. He could now release the local.
He waved his hand—a gesture that worked better than English—and the native fled like he'd been granted a royal pardon, running off without even bothering to pick up his tripod. Truly, Europeans were generous—though not quite like in Hollywood movies where they blow up planes and aircraft carriers just for fun. But then again, that was just the movies and most of them were german.
Generous or not, the way that guy ran… really wasn't pretty.
Hikigaya shook his head. With a light jump, he leapt onto a rooftop to get a bird's-eye view of this city called Olbia.
It wasn't a big city, but its layout was rather refined. Most buildings were low-rise, with only two that reached up to about twenty stories.
From the overwhelmingly old buildings, Hikigaya could tell it was an ancient city. Yet at its center was a huge steel-and-glass structure with modern architectural flair. This single modern element stood awkwardly among the old buildings, making it look out of place—but from another angle, it was also kind of special.
However, none of that was important.
What was important was that Hikigaya sensed it—the power of abundance, right here in this city.
After he had taken in the ancient city's full view, he let the wind lift him.
But just as he was about to take flight, he heard a cry: "Ah!"
The voice came carried on the wind. He turned toward the sound and saw a child holding binoculars, standing at the window of a residential building, mouth agape, staring at him in shock.
Hikigaya smiled, waved at the kid, and then soared into the sky.
He began to sense divinity.
And then he found it—plunging toward it like an arrow.
Soon, the houses below were replaced by a long stretch of road.
Hikigaya's eyes were drawn to the right side of the road, to a gentle slope covered in a dense flock of sheep. The crisp, pleasant sound of bells drifted to his ears with the wind, clear and melodious.
He landed beside the road and looked toward the one unusual creature among the sheep.
It was a goat—still a kind of sheep, but clearly a different species.
At the same time, the goat sensed Hikigaya's presence. From the moment he had descended from the sky, it had been staring at him blankly with those dreamy, hazy eyes.
To an ordinary person, this might have seemed like just a slightly larger goat. But to Hikigaya, it was not.
This was not a goat at all. It merely looked like one.
Nor was it a divine beast—it was an incarnation of a god.
That god's name was Verethragna, the ancient Persian god of war, guardian of the sun god Mithra, and thus also linked with the sun. He was also closely associated with Heracles as a god of conquest. But in essence, he wasn't any natural entity—he was victory itself.
Hikigaya hadn't expected to encounter him so soon. It seemed that Verethragna's incarnations didn't just show up in one place.
Even if he defeated this incarnation, Hikigaya probably wouldn't gain any powers—but that didn't mean he'd ignore it. Besides, from what he knew, the ten incarnations of Verethragna in the anime looked powerful, but since he wasn't Kusanagi Godou, he might not get the same powers anyway. Given that, there was no need to hesitate.
Might as well fight first and talk later. After all, his main reason for coming this time was so that he wouldn't have to deal with a certain clingy comrade anymore.
As someone who'd seen the anime, he knew this incarnation's power had allowed Kusanagi Godou to turn the tide against the Marquis' lightning on his very first use. So in Verethragna's own hands, it had to be even more formidable.
Truly an annoying ability. Better to make it disappear here and now.
Perhaps sensing Hikigaya's killing intent, the goat incarnation began to show unease. It pawed the ground with its hooves, and the surrounding flock of sheep grew agitated—not the kind of panic where they bleated and ran around, but a kind where they all froze in place, staring at Hikigaya in unison.
See? This is the difference. Kusanagi Godou was passive, but here it had turned into an active skill.
Still, Hikigaya wasn't worried. Sure, he had once been helpless against Voban's lightning, but that was in the past.
Now, he had divine speed! Hell yeah!
Hikigaya stepped forward and extended a single finger. Around that fingertip, the air began to swirl violently.