Chapter 1

The front gate of Rotsgard Academy.

Even late at night, it was usually a lively place, with a steady flow of students coming and going, its lights never entirely extinguished, glowing like the ramparts of a bustling castle.

Currently, the scene was starkly different. Not a single figure moved through the stone-paved entrance. Only the soft, antique glow of magically fueled streetlamps, reminiscent of old gaslights, cast lonely pools of light across the empty pathway.

I—Makoto Misumi—walked through this ghostly scene with my follower, Shiki, our footsteps the only sound breaking the stillness.

We didn’t have a specific destination in mind. Really, we’d just come out to escape the clamor of the ongoing chaos. I intended to rush back if the situation escalated, but for now, it seemed unlikely that anyone would be calling for me.

Rotsgard today was experiencing the calm after the storm. The sudden surge of mutated monsters rampaging through the city had largely subsided, and thanks to the groundwork we’d laid, the cleanup and subjugation efforts were progressing as well as could be expected.

If anything, the more critical situation seemed to be with Limia and Gritonia—both reeling from surprise attacks of their own, these by the demons. Information beyond the initial reports of ambushes in their respective capitals remained sparse, but the impact was clearly severe.

“They seemed quite shaken,” Shiki remarked, his fingers thoughtfully stroking his chin as he broke the silence. “Both the king of Limia and the princess of Gritonia.”

“Well, that’s only natural,” I replied, glancing over at him. “Getting your capital attacked is never a good sign for the overall war effort, right?”

“Indeed. While circumstances may vary, being caught off guard like this is undeniably a ‘bad’ situation.”

“Of course they’d be rattled,” I mused. “But still… The demons. I heard it was Rona and another demon general leading the assault. But why would they abandon the safety of Stella Fortress—their supposedly impregnable stronghold—to go on the offensive? Isn’t that like throwing away their biggest advantage?”

“If their only goal were to whittle down their opponent’s forces, then holding the fortress would have been the wiser move. But this is war.” Shiki’s eyes narrowed as he pieced the theory together. “At some point, you have to strike if you want to truly break your enemy. In fact, by making it seem like they were permanently entrenched, they may have set the perfect stage for a surprise attack. The long-standing defensive posture might have been bait all along.”

“Hmm… I mean, you’re not wrong, but…”

I thought back over the demon army’s recent movements. The simultaneous attacks on Limia’s royal capital, Ur, and the imperial capital of Gritonia, Ruinas, made little sense to me.

From what I remembered from my history lessons, fighting a war on two fronts was usually a terrible idea. Unless you had an overwhelming advantage in personnel and resources…

If you’ve got two enemies, it’s almost always better to take them down one at a time, right?

Especially if you’re the kind of force that supposedly has the defenses to hold out against simultaneous attacks. From everything I’d heard so far, the demons shouldn’t have enough spare strength to risk this kind of offensive. So why make this move now?

“Well, I guess it’s not that strange if their ultimate goal is to wipe out hyumanity…” I murmured, trailing off as the thought settled in.

“However,” Shiki continued, “the way the royal families of Limia and Gritonia are reacting seems… unusual. They’re far more shaken than I would expect, even accounting for the suddenness of the attack. It’s almost like they didn’t anticipate this kind of bold maneuver from the demons at all. But then again… perhaps it isn’t so strange for hyumans. It’s not as if they could have any real guarantee that the demons would stay on the defensive forever…”

I could tell he was working through the puzzle aloud, testing different theories. So even Shiki isn’t entirely sure what the demons are up to… By now, I was used to the way his analytical mind worked, and it was rare for him to be this uncertain.

I glanced around the moonlit courtyard. Both of my other followers were elsewhere tonight—Mio was off running errands, and Tomoe was soaring through the skies of the Demiplane, checking on our other operations. Shiki was my best source of information for the moment.

“Do you feel like there’s something off about this whole situation?” I asked.

“I do,” he answered without hesitation. “After halting their grand invasion a decade ago, the demons have focused their efforts on domestic growth, military buildup, and technological advancement. In other words, they’ve been consolidating their power.”

Ah, so they pulled back to strengthen their core, like a coiled spring… That makes sense.

“They had to solidify their expanded territory before trying to push further, right?” This whole thing felt like a puzzle that we had only partially assembled. I wanted to see the entire picture.

“Yes. To put it another way, the demons we’re dealing with now are not the same ones who launched the Great Invasion a decade ago. They’ve grown significantly.”

“I guess that tracks. I mean, they’ve even developed tools that can block the Goddess’s influence.”

“Most likely, they revealed that device fully expecting it to be countered eventually. Even so, it’s clear that the demons currently possess magic far beyond what hyumans can muster. The hyuman nations should have taken this into account… And yet…”

“And yet?” I could sense the twist coming.

“When the reports of the surprise attacks reached the royal families of Limia and Gritonia, their reactions struck me as… unprepared. Almost like they genuinely hadn’t foreseen this possibility. But it should have been obvious. The demons have been developing their concealment techniques for much more than the last ten years. They probably used those methods to move their forces slowly, hiding them in forests and valleys, and then gathered them at critical points using teleportation markers.

“In the case of Gritonia, the reports suggest their forces emerged from multiple locations, but the core strategy was likely the same—they simply placed more markers to coordinate the assault.”

“I see.”

If they’d perfected a method to mask entire battalions, then they could definitely pull off something like this. I’d already seen demons infiltrate Rotsgard and even the heavily guarded Lorel Federation without much difficulty.

Come to think of it, even the two bodyguards assigned to that high-ranking representative of the Lorel Federation, Sairitsu, during the recent festival turned out to be demons. When I asked her about the bodyguards later, she casually mentioned they’d been recalled on orders from Lorel…

Which means the demons not only had agents embedded deeply enough to influence Lorel’s internal affairs, but they also had the means to pull them back quickly when the time was right.

As for teleportation itself? Creating markers along a lakeside or in a hidden grove, then gathering their forces there, wasn’t particularly complicated if you had someone like Shiki around. If the demons have mages as skilled as him—and they probably do—then this kind of maneuver isn’t out of reach at all.

When it came to advanced magic like teleportation, false identities, and mental communication, the demons clearly had a significant lead over hyumanity. That technological and tactical edge made a huge difference.

Hyumans have gotten too dependent on the blessings and aid of the Goddess and spirits. They’ve forgotten how to innovate, so there are only a few outliers left who are willing to push the boundaries.

That alone could explain the gaping difference in their magical capabilities.

Still, the hyumans do have one significant advantage—the Goddess herself. That alone keeps this from becoming a completely one-sided conflict in the demons’ favor.

“But if hyumanity truly underestimates the demons’ strength to this degree, or worse, if they believe that the Goddess’s blessing alone can carry them to victory…” Shiki’s tone grew sharper, a rare edge creeping into his usually calm voice. “They could be heading for a devastating defeat in this war.”

“No way,” I shot back reflexively.

“Admittedly, I find it unlikely as well. Even the most naive of rulers should understand that the awakening of the Goddess and the summoning of heroes, in and of themselves, won’t guarantee victory. Nations on the front lines like Limia and Gritonia should have stolen or adapted at least some of the demons’ technology by now.”

“Well, yeah. If your enemy has superior techniques, of course, you’d try to learn from them.”

“And yet, neither kingdom managed to counter even the relatively basic interference spells the demons used just recently. So, of course, it’s not surprising that the kings and princesses couldn’t handle it—they’re rulers, not mages nor engineers. But if no one from their capitals could establish a stable telepathic link with this city—that means they’ve likely failed to intercept even the most basic battlefield communications.”

“…”

He has a point. If even their top strategists and mages couldn’t break through that interference, then how much of the demons’ true capabilities have they actually worked out?

“What’s more,” Shiki continued, “both of those nations’ rulers seemed convinced that Rotsgard was nothing more than a decoy, a diversion to lure their forces away from the true target. That assumption alone shows you just how little they understand this situation.”

Wait… but isn’t that kind of accurate?

“Why’s that?” I asked, crossing my arms as I considered this. “I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? Stir up trouble here in Rotsgard while all the most powerful people are conveniently in one place, forcing each country to divert troops for suppression and rescue. It’s irritating that they went ahead with the attack despite us being here. Strategically, though, it’s not a bad move.”

“Young Master, if I may… What we’re doing right now, wondering whether this attack is the main strike or just a feint, is precisely the kind of trap the demons want us to fall into. From the moment they managed to lure high-ranking royals to this city under the guise of a harmless academy festival, their plan was already a partial success.

“If the hyuman armies focus on protecting their royalty, the demons gain by diverting significant forces away from other fronts. But if they assume this is just a distraction and ignore it, then the demons could have easily overwhelmed the defenses here in Rotsgard and reduced this city of learning to ruins. If we hadn’t intervened, those creatures would have multiplied into the hundreds within hours.

“Either way, the demons stand to gain, and hyumanity risks a dangerous blind spot.”

He was right, of course. We’d managed to halt the growth of the mutant numbers by the second day, keeping the count below a hundred. But without us, this city would have been overwhelmed before reinforcements could even think of arriving.

“So, it didn’t really matter which way things played out here,” I muttered. I could finally feel the puzzle coming together. “No matter the outcome, Rona’s plan would still move forward. The actual damage to Rotsgard wasn’t all that critical to her strategy.”

“Precisely,” Shiki agreed with a knowing nod. “Simply the fact that some of the forces from Limia and Gritonia were diverted here, along with the Aion Kingdom’s reinforcement for Stella being delayed at nearby towns, means her plan has already been quite successful. Although given the effort they invested, I suspect she was hoping for a bit more destruction on our side.”

“What about Lorel?”

“Lorel likely wasn’t expected to send anything more than material support from the beginning. However, considering you mentioned that two demons had infiltrated their delegation as bodyguards, they may have planned to disrupt or sabotage those supply lines as well. Now that those demons have been recalled, it’s hard to say for sure.”

So even the supply chain might have been a target… That was a scary thought. If they were willing to go that far just to slow the flow of resources, it really did fit the definition of a decoy.

“But doesn’t that still make Rotsgard a pretty effective diversion?” I pressed.

“If Rotsgard were truly intended as the primary decoy, they would have aimed for a much larger disruption here. No, Young Master… Rona’s real bait isn’t this city. It’s Gritonia.”

“Wait, what?!”

How did he come to that conclusion? I stared at him, trying to wrap my head around the sudden shift in perspective. Shiki hesitated, his mouth hanging open as if he hadn’t expected my surprise.

Wait, is he… disappointed in me?

I’m trying, all right? Just give me a bit more time to catch up.

“Look at the bigger picture,” Shiki continued, and suddenly he had regained the calm, teacherly tone I was used to. “The main demon force advanced from Star Lake, heading straight for Ur. Meanwhile, the units targeting the capital of Gritonia, Ruinas, moved from Stella Fortress, crossing the Ruin River and then splitting into multiple smaller contingents as they advanced.

“Now, if you consider the makeup of their main forces, the current state of the demon army, and the timing of their offensive, the answer becomes clear. Despite the apparent simultaneous attacks, the real target of this campaign… is the Kingdom of Limia.”

Shiki’s eyes gleamed with a sharp, calculating light.

Ah… It’s that look.

It reminded me of the old Shiki—well, I guess his name wasn’t Shiki back then, so the lich he used to be. Anyway, this was the same look he had back when he was constantly scheming, weaving intricate plans with that slightly sinister glint in his eyes.

“So… they’re planning to take down Limia itself?” I asked. A cold knot of tension was forming in my gut. If that’s true, it would push hyumanity even further into a corner.

“No,” Shiki replied, his tone low but certain. “Their true objective is Limia’s greatest treasure.”

“Treasure?”

“The hero. They plan to kill Limia’s hero at all costs.”

I felt my breath catch. Wait, seriously?

We’ve only been in this world for like a year, but are the demons already prepared to go that far? Are they really ready to kill a hero?

“I have only heard rumors about the qualities of these so-called heroes,” Shiki continued, his tone thoughtful, as if mentally sorting through the information he had gathered. “But if we consider the nature of the two known heroes… the Gritonia puppets and the Limia fanatics… It’s not hard to see which one presents a greater long-term threat.”

Puppets and fanatics.

Ah… right, Tomoe and Mio mentioned this before.

Mio had casually dismissed the two as essentially the same—just different flavors of hyuman loyalty. But Tomoe had taken the time to explain the crucial distinction.

Limia’s hero was a young man with a terrifying power lurking behind his eyes: He could twist the minds of those around him, bending their will to his every command. Gritonia’s hero, by contrast, was a charismatic young woman who drew in her followers with pure conviction, transforming ordinary soldiers into fanatics willing to die for her cause.

Both types of influence were similar on the surface—a kind of overpowering charisma—but their final forms were as different as night and day. One created slaves, the other created martyrs.

I’ve never seen anyone pushed to those extremes, but if Tomoe’s assessment is accurate… then yeah, a true fanatic might be far more dangerous in the long run.

The memory of Tomoe and Mio discussing this came back to me, their voices overlapping in my mind.

“Hmm, being completely enthralled, unable to act without your master’s approval… that’s the height of misery, isn’t it?” Tomoe’s voice dripped with disdain. “The fear of being abandoned or rejected binds their every thought, paralyzing them until they’re little more than living golems, afraid to move without explicit orders. They become nothing but puppets, enslaved by their own terror.”

“I may be utterly devoted to Young Master, but I am not like that,” Mio countered, her expression twisting into a pout as she shot Tomoe a sharp glare. “And for the record, my devotion is deeper than anyone’s.”

“That’s the difference between enthrallment through sheer power and genuine loyalty… Though perhaps you’re a special case, Mio. In any event, I doubt you’ll ever end up like one of those pathetic puppets. Rest easy.”

“Should I take that as a compliment, or are you just saying I’m lacking in some way?”

Honestly… the fact that they could have this kind of conversation is a pretty good sign that things are still peaceful on our end.

As I snapped back to the present, I mulled over what Shiki had just said. His analysis stirred a new question in my mind.

“So… the idea is to take down Limia’s hero first, to eliminate the risk of her creating fanatics?” I asked. “But didn’t a few dozen adventurers from Tsige head to Limia recently? I heard something about them being invited to join the hero’s party. If those guys linked up with Limia’s forces, wouldn’t that make them a much tougher opponent for the demons?”

Those adventurers’ faces were fresh in my mind—seasoned veterans hardened by countless battles in the harsh wilderness. They wouldn’t fold easily, even against demon forces.

Shiki nodded; he seemed ready for my question. “You’re right. The most significant strength Limia has right now is likely the hero’s party, supported by those veteran adventurers. However, those adventurers come with a significant weakness.”

“And what’s that?”

“Deep down, they are still adventurers. They’re skilled in offensive tactics, adept at taking the fight to their enemies in hostile, shifting environments. If they’ve been training alongside Limia’s regular forces, they’ve likely picked up the basics of large-scale warfare quickly enough. They will be useful on the front lines.”

“Right, that makes sense.”

“What they lack is the discipline required for true defensive warfare. Unlike mercenaries or knights, whose entire existence revolves around holding the line and protecting their territory, adventurers thrive in mobility and small-unit tactics. In a large-scale defensive engagement, their effectiveness drops dramatically. I would estimate that, at best, they can utilize only 50 percent of their potential in such a scenario.”

“They’re not that unbalanced, are they? Tsige’s been attacked by monsters plenty of times. They should have at least some experience with defensive battles, right?”

“I hope that’s true. But consider this. There’s an old saying about the Wasteland: ‘Any base that lasts a full year in the wild will thrive.’ If I were attacking adventurers, I’d force them into a purely defensive posture, especially if I wanted to break them for certain. Even knights struggle when they have to defend civilians, burdened with the need to protect those behind them. Add the chaos of a surprise attack, and… well, what do you think that does to their morale?”

“You think Limia might fall?”

The hero of Limia was someone I’d never met, and someone chosen by the Goddess at that. Should I really get involved? If I went to their aid, it would undoubtedly deepen my ties with Limia. It wasn’t a move I could take lightly.

“Unlikely,” Shiki replied after a brief pause, his tone measured. “I doubt it will come to total annihilation. For all their strength, the demons are in no position to launch an all-out war. This offensive is more about making a statement, a show of force to announce their return to the world stage. It’s a kind of bluff. If they can kill the hero, that alone would serve as a powerful symbol, shattering Limia’s morale without requiring total conquest.

“However,” he continued, a slight frown creasing his brow, “if the hero manages to escape—leaving Limia leaderless and demoralized—then the damage could become catastrophic. But this is merely my speculation. There are too many unknowns, and I can’t claim to understand every aspect of the Demon Lord’s or Rona’s intentions.” He ended his analysis with a wry smile, but the tension in his face betrayed his uncertainty.

“So… they’re not ready to fully commit yet.”

“Not quite. Winter will soon blanket the northern lands,” Shiki explained, glancing up at the star-streaked sky as if sensing the coming cold. “Once the snows set in, both offense and defense become vastly more difficult. Marching through blizzards and over frozen terrain is little better than suicide. For the demons, this is the perfect time to strike a quick, decisive blow and then pull back before the harsh weather traps them.”

A bluff… but one with real teeth if they manage to take down the hero.

Tsukuyomi’s words echoed in my mind: “Remember to keep an eye on them.”

Even if I wanted to help, we had our own problems. More importantly, I didn’t even have a reliable way to get to Limia.

“Teleporting all the way there isn’t exactly an option,” I muttered.

“Ah, that’s right. Tomoe-dono…”

Yeah… we can’t use teleportation right now.

My mind drifted back to the intense meeting we’d just had.

It had been me, Tomoe, and Shiki who were called before some of the most powerful figures in the world: the king of Limia, Princess Lily of Gritonia, and Sairitsu of the Lorel Federation.

The representative of Aion had already left the city, heading for the front lines at Stella, but the remaining dignitaries had cornered us, demanding the use of our teleportation ability to reinforce their beleaguered capitals.

Since we’d been maintaining the story that Tomoe’s wakizashi, her side blade, was the source of our teleportation ability, she’d been forced to put on a little performance, weaving together an elaborate excuse to buy us some breathing room.

“My apologies, your majesties,” Tomoe had said, adopting a humble, regretful tone. She dipped her head, her long, sky-blue hair swaying. “In the chaos of this crisis, I have already overextended my abilities. I am near my limit.”

She was a picture of remorse, her words carefully chosen to deflect their demands without directly refusing them.

Still, the king and the princess weren’t about to give up so easily. They took turns pressing her—one moment appealing to her sense of honor, the next delivering thinly veiled threats that carried the full weight of their respective nations.

When their patience finally wore thin, they turned their focus to me.

Honestly, that part had been terrifying.

I mean, I was not easily intimidated, but there’s something different about being cornered by a king and a princess, both radiating an aura of power and authority that felt almost physically oppressive.

Especially Princess Lily. She didn’t look more than a few years older than me, but the force of her presence almost took my breath away. Whether it was a result of her noble upbringing or just her raw force of will, she exuded an intensity that felt virtually physical.

Strangely, I hadn’t felt the same overwhelming discomfort I usually got around people like Zara, the head of the Merchant Guild. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t actually cornered this time?

“Young Master, that’s enough. You’ve played your part perfectly. Just give them a nod, and let me handle the rest.”

Tomoe’s voice had whispered into my mind through our telepathic link, her tone full of quiet amusement. She had clearly been enjoying the little game we’d played with the royals.

“All right. It’s a crisis, so I suppose I have no choice. Tomoe, can you manage it?”

I had responded with a slight frown, using my speech bubble, where the dignitaries could read it. It was all part of the bluff, reinforcing the idea that teleporting between nations was a dangerous, resource-draining endeavor for us.

Tomoe had dipped her head again, a theatrical little sigh escaping her lips.

“Young Master, it’s not that I cannot do it. If you command me, I will make it happen. But if I teleport twice more in such quick succession, I fear my blade may not endure the strain.”

“Will it break?” I wrote.

“Yes, it will… and I doubt it can be repaired. Are you truly prepared for that, Young Master? To lose the very blade that has served as the foundation of the Kuzunoha Company’s strength?”

Ah… I get it now.

It hit me—the real reason Tomoe had woven this elaborate lie about her wakizashi being the source of our teleportation power. If the blade shattered, it would give us the perfect excuse to stop teleporting altogether.

So that’s it… Wow, she’s clever. She’s trying to make it seem like our teleportation is a finite, fragile resource. If the “tool” breaks, then the ability itself is gone. All right, if that’s the plan, I’ll play my part.

“It’s fine, Tomoe. These are people fighting to protect their nations from the demon threat. If we can lend them our strength, we should. As for the blade… If it truly breaks, then perhaps we’ll find a worthy replacement someday. If fate allows.”

“Very well,” Tomoe replied, her voice thick with feigned resignation.

With a heavy, mournful expression, she stepped away from me and Shiki, moving over to where the king of Limia, Princess Lily, Sairitsu… Wait, and Luto? When did he get here?

Oh, wait, I guess in this situation he’s calling himself Fals, the Adventurer’s Guild Master.

From the snippets of their conversation that I managed to catch, it sounded like they were hammering out the fine details—distances, possible landing points, and whether it was feasible to reach Limia’s capital in a single jump.

A few moments later, Tomoe unsheathed her wakizashi with a deliberate, almost ceremonial slowness. She then swept the blade through the air, opening two swirling, mist-filled portals.

The king and his knights immediately stepped into one gate, their forms swallowed by the dense fog. Princess Lily and a handful of her closest attendants passed through the second, disappearing without a word.

The moment the last of them crossed the threshold, Tomoe’s wakizashi shattered in her hands, fragments of the blade scattering across the stone floor with a harsh ringing sound. She fell to her knees, her expression twisted in a masterful display of grief and exhaustion.

What a performance.

She’d sold the scene perfectly. If I hadn’t known better, even I might have believed the blade was truly destroyed.

I glanced around, catching flickers of relief on the faces of Sairitsu, the prince of Limia, and a few of the remaining attendants. They must have been worried that if we still had our teleportation ability, we’d become an even greater wildcard in the already chaotic political landscape.

Part of me wanted to call them out for that, but I held my tongue. Instead, I stepped forward, placing a hand gently on Tomoe’s trembling shoulder.

I wrote, “You okay, Tomoe? Sorry about the whole wakizashi thing.”

“Heh, those fools seem quite relieved, don’t they?” came her telepathic reply. “Truly, if they had more than air between their ears, they wouldn’t have been so easily misled. Pathetic.”

Here I was, actually worried about her.

After a few more moments of silent theatrics, Tomoe rose to her feet and, with a final, dramatic bow, excused herself from the room, informing me through our mental link that she would be retreating to the Demiplane for a while.

So, that’s why we can’t teleport to Limia right now.

“In the end, it all comes down to how much power the hero actually wields,” Shiki noted. “Of course, the demons must have accounted for that possibility, which is why they’re pushing for a swift, decisive conflict. Unless a significant wildcard appears, the battle will likely unfold exactly as they intend.”

“A wildcard… like us in Rotsgard, you mean?” I muttered. “Are there any good moves we can make here?”

“Yes. While it might be unwise for us to intervene directly, we could potentially send some of the Demiplane races as support. The winged folk, the gorgons, or perhaps even the arach—all of whom are still largely unknown to the outside world.”

“No way. Sending our people into a battle none of us can directly support is a terrible plan. Besides, the winged folk might be strong, but they’re flying targets. They’d get picked off from the ground.”

Shiki’s eyes sharpened.

“Young Master… the winged folk are an exceptionally powerful race. Properly utilized, they could topple entire nations on their own. They seem so fragile to you because your abilities are uniquely effective against them.

“As for the gorgons, their ability to petrify targets makes them a devastating force on the battlefield. Even if some of their victims survive, we can always reverse the effect later for selected individuals. Unlike standard petrification, their power doesn’t cause instant death, which is a unique and terrifying advantage.”

Are the winged folk really that strong? I recalled the way they had tried to hide above the clouds during one of my training sessions, desperate to evade my attacks. They don’t seem that impressive to me…

As for the gorgons, if someone found a way to counter their petrification, they’d be relying solely on their hardened hair for defense. That didn’t seem like a reliable plan either.

“Hmm…” I frowned, turning the idea over in my mind. “I’ll consider it, but if the demons are serious about this attack, sending them out alone could be risky. And if the hero mistakes them for regular monsters and cuts them down, that would be… a problem.”

“I see,” Shiki replied. “I only mentioned it because it seems like it has high odds for success and minimal downside for us.”

“Well, it’s not a bad idea, but we’d be leaving our people exposed in a major conflict with no direct support. I don’t like the sound of that. Still, we can’t just abandon the hero… but marching in directly isn’t an option either.”

I paused as another thought surfaced.

“Oh, and Shiki—we’ve been talking a lot about Limia, but what about Gritonia? If it really is just a decoy, does that mean we don’t need to worry as much about them?”

After all, there are two heroes in this world.

Shiki’s expression tightened, his eyes narrowing as he considered my question.

“I can’t say for certain,” he admitted, a faint frown creasing his brow. “But there are a few things that don’t sit right with me.”

“Mind sharing?”

“To mount a two-front assault against both Limia and Gritonia, the demons would need substantial forces. Yet, the number of troops deployed from Stella Fortress simply doesn’t add up. On top of that, they intentionally split their forces on Gritonia’s side, which suggests they aren’t actually trying to capture the imperial capital. If anything, this move makes them more vulnerable.”

I nodded, urging him to continue.

“However, Gritonia’s hero has a significant advantage in the form of a flying dragon. If he realizes that Gritonia's front is just a feint, he could quickly pivot and support Limia. That would put the demon forces attacking Limia in a disastrous position, trapped between two heroes.”

I could feel the intensity in his tone as he concluded. “If that happens, they won’t just be in trouble—they’ll be facing outright annihilation, especially if the units attacking Stella Fortress return in time to cut off their retreat.”

“Yeah, that would be bad for them.” Damn, this situation is more complex than I thought.

“Which is why I suspect they have some contingency in place to keep Gritonia’s hero pinned down. But what that is… I can’t quite piece together.”

Shiki’s gaze snapped back to me, a trace of concern in his expression. “I can’t help but recall what you once mentioned about the Dragon Slayer. If she’s among the demon units moving toward Gritonia, she might be the key to keeping their hero occupied. But there’s a problem…

“Right now, the fact that she’s aligned with the demons isn’t widely known. If she openly confronts the hero in battle, it’ll reveal her betrayal to the entire world. Would someone as prideful as the Dragon Slayer be willing to risk that?”

The Dragon Slayer… Sofia.

I’ve only met her once, but even then, I couldn’t get a read on her. She’s like a wildcard herself, unpredictable and dangerous.

Like me, she had a Greater Dragon as a follower, but her motivations were a complete mystery. I had no idea where she stood, or what she really wanted.

“And then there’s Rona,” Shiki added, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “If she appears on the Gritonia front, it could mean the demons are using this split deployment to test Gritonia’s full hand, treating their own forces like sacrificial pawns. But if that’s the case…”

He trailed off, his eyes glazing over as he fell back to sifting through the fragments in his mind.

Both Limia and Gritonia are in serious trouble.

From the way Shiki had laid it out, Limia seemed to be in the most immediate danger, and I couldn’t just ignore that. After all, they had my fellow Earthlings fighting alongside them. I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing while they faced total annihilation.

The world’s gotten a lot more dangerous while we’ve been here in Rotsgard.

This situation is shaping up to be even bigger than I thought.

※※※

A lone figure stood atop one of the towers within Rotsgard Academy—the master of the Adventurer’s Guild and one of the highest-tier dragons, Luto.

“An unwitting miracle-move from Makoto-kun… Restoring the telepathic link at that precise moment,” he murmured, his eyes fixed on the distant figures of Makoto and Shiki near the gates below.

Ordinarily, it would have been impossible to pick them out from such a height, especially at night. Even someone with exceptional vision would struggle to make out their tiny, dark silhouettes. But for Luto, the distance posed no problem.

“The demons’ plan to assassinate the hero and buy themselves time should have worked perfectly. But now… things might get a bit messy,” he mused, his lips curving into a faint smile.

That single move… It gave him a perfect excuse to deny any connection to the demons.

Not only that, but it also showcased the strength of the Kuzunoha Company to the gathered dignitaries, leaving them wary of his power. In a single stroke, Makoto had transformed his organization from a local oddity to a widely feared and respected force.

If they had moved even a bit earlier or later, things might have turned out differently.

If the timing had been off, even by a small margin, Raidou, the temporary instructor, and his trading company might have found themselves under a cloud of suspicion, their loyalty to hyumanity questioned.

Luto, who had lived long enough to witness countless such twists of fate, was quietly marveling at the uncanny precision of it all.

He was cornered by powerful figures and forced into a position where he had to act. No one would believe that he had the foresight to plan this outcome. It’s the kind of fortune you can’t manufacture.

He chuckled, the night breeze stirring his silver hair.

“And of course, it’s Makoto-kun we’re talking about,” he murmured, his eyes betraying a mix of amusement and concern. “Even if he hits a jackpot like this every once in a while, his luck is… strange. He always seems to pull the Joker card along with his wins.¹ I can’t help but wonder if something like that isn’t waiting for him this time too.”

A boy who had inadvertently ended up in life-or-death battles with elder dragons. Who had narrowly avoided death at the hands of calamity-class monsters. Who had been misunderstood and treated as a pariah despite his perfectly hyuman appearance, thrown from one crisis to another with bewildering consistency.

He was a walking contradiction—finding himself again and again at the heart of disasters, yet somehow always turning them to his advantage.

“And this time… what will you do, Makoto-kun? What twist of fate awaits you now?!”

Luto’s eyes suddenly shot upward, his easygoing expression replaced by a look of genuine shock.

His gaze locked onto a seemingly empty patch of starlit sky, his pupils narrowing to slits as his body tensed.

“What is she thinking? Moving now… She’s insane! You truly are reckless, aren’t you?!”

The words had barely left his lips when, from a break in the clouds, a shaft of golden light pierced the darkness, spilling down over a section of Rotsgard. It radiated a divine intensity, flooding the area below with an overwhelming, otherworldly glow that demanded reverence from all who beheld it.

※※※

“Young Master! It’s the insect!!!” Shiki exclaimed.

That word was the signal—one of the contingency codes we’d established after that incident, when I was abducted by her. It was a keyword to alert us the moment the Goddess’s interference was detected.

Almost immediately after his shout, a golden beam of light pierced down from the night sky, streaking toward us like a spear of divine judgment. It was beautiful in the way poison can shimmer in sunlight.

To many, it would have appeared delicate and ethereal. Holy, even.

But to me? It made my skin crawl.

No doubt about it—it’s her.

Even as Shiki’s warning left his lips, my body was already moving on instinct. The spell sequence raced through my mind, automatic, practiced—the anti-abduction countermeasure.

I hadn’t thought I’d need it tonight. Not in this place. But that’s the thing about her—she never waits for a convenient time.

The spell’s design was simple. I wasn’t going to try to escape the pull—not directly. Instead, like a ship weathering a storm, I would drop anchor. Bind myself to this world, to this point in space. Resist her pull by sheer weight of will.

The light swallowed us. Shiki had moved to my side in a flash, and now we were both caught in it.

Looking up through the blinding radiance, I realized the area being pulled wasn’t small. The entire front gate of the Academy and a good chunk of the garden beyond it were caught in the glow.

Then, like a predator locking onto prey, the light narrowed. It focused. I felt an intense force trying to drag me upward.

So, she’s noticed me.

I could feel it now—the weightless sensation in my gut like my soul was being yanked skyward.

I resisted…

I’m holding out, I realized with wonder.

The thought made something flicker in my chest—a quiet surge of satisfaction.

I’m standing up to her now.

I’m stronger than I was back then.

“A-Amazing… What power,” Shiki gasped beside me. “Young Master, are you all right?!”

“I’m holding for now,” I replied through clenched teeth. “Tch… She should give up and vanish already. Dammit, how long is she planning to drag this out?!”

I could still resist. But it was taking longer than I expected, and that wasn’t good. The longer this continued, the more my magical anchor would degrade under the pressure. Eventually, it would snap—it was only a matter of time.

I considered lashing out with an attack—striking back while I still had the strength—but there was a problem.

I couldn’t sense where she was. There was no clear target to aim for. It was like trying to hit a ghost in a mirror.

“Young Master, we have a problem.” Shiki’s expression twisted with urgency.

“What?!” I snapped, already bracing for the worst.

“If this continues, we’ll attract too much attention. Some of the hyumans might recognize this light for what it is—the Goddess’s power. And if they see us resisting it…”

Shit, he’s right. This was the front gate of the academy. Sure, it was quieter than usual after the recent chaos, but it wasn’t deserted. There were still eyes watching, whether hidden or distant. And now this? Right here? Of all places?

I felt a profound force reach through my chest as the golden light intensified, like a noose tightening around my being.

“Ugh!” I grunted, feeling the pressure rise with our resistance. It was as if she—that parasite of a Goddess—was goading me on, applying just enough force to make me sweat without outright crushing me.

“She’s a master of harassment,” I spat, clenching my teeth. “Her timing’s… perfect.”

Shiki remained calm, but the strain was beginning to show. “If we’re declared enemies of the divine by the Church, everything we’ve built over the past few days could unravel. I’ve cloaked the area in darkness for now, but under divine light, it’s only a matter of time before it’s stripped away.”

Even now, he was composed, analyzing the situation with clarity. But me? I was boiling inside. I couldn’t bear the thought of being dragged around by her again. I’d spent too long working to break free from her grip, only to be reeled back in like some pathetic fish on a line.

Damn it. Everyone in the company had worked so hard—Shiki, Tomoe, Mio, even the residents of the Demiplane.

I’d done my part too. We were finally starting to be recognized. We were getting somewhere.

And now… she had to show up again. To tear it all down.

Damn it all!!!

I let out a shaky breath and relaxed my limbs, allowing the strength to drain from my body.

This isn’t surrender. It’s a choice. A bitter, unwilling choice. You want to drag me into your twisted little space again? Fine. But don’t think for a second that this means I’ve lost.

Take me, you bitch.

The struggle lasted just over ten seconds—long enough for me to feel the anchor fray and finally snap. The light surged, yanking us off the ground—stone, dirt, and all—and swallowed us whole.

Fortunately, even the first group to arrive at the scene—likely drawn by the sudden flare of divine light—probably didn’t catch a clear glimpse of me or Shiki. That was due entirely to his quick thinking, and I was grateful.

“Thanks, Shiki,” I said, glancing his way. “If I’d been alone, I probably would’ve gotten stubborn and tried to fight her off until the bitter end. Sorry for dragging you into this.”

“I never expected we’d meet the Goddess this soon,” he replied, his face looking rather pale. “S-Still… it’s a good learning experience.”

You’re not helping, Shiki. It’s hard to feel reassured when the guy beside you looks like he’s about to keel over. And honestly, I wasn’t even sure she would show up in person. It wouldn’t be the first time she left everything to her powers while staying hidden behind her little curtain of divinity.

Shortly after that exchange, the world around us shifted.

We were back in that place.

The first thing I’d seen when I came to this world—the platinum void.

I couldn’t help but feel a twisted sort of relief that the stone pavement and soil dragged up alongside us weren’t now crashing down from above like a rain of rubble.

Small victories, I guess.

※※※

The place where I’d first heard the voice of that wretched Goddess.

Back then, I’d sworn to myself that the next time I set foot here, it would be of my own will—on my terms—when I’d finally gathered enough strength to punch her right in the smug mouth. But judging by the sensation earlier… yeah, I wasn’t there yet.

Still not enough. Not by a long shot.

This wasn’t how I’d imagined my return.

The divine was still so far out of reach.

My thoughts wandered back to that moment—the first one—when I’d been cast into the wilderness. Alone and powerless.

A cold, ironic laugh bubbled up from deep in my chest.

“Heh… heh heh heh…”

Honestly, why the hell do I have to come back to this place just because that damn insect felt like it?

“Y-Young Master?” Shiki’s voice wavered as he cautiously called out to me, clearly unsettled by the look on my face.

I didn’t respond. I just reached silently into my coat and pulled out a small weapon.

It was a weapon with a strange, hybrid form—a short spearhead mounted on a stubby handle, complete with fletching at the end. It looked like an awkward dagger or perhaps an unusually short arrow. But what made it unique was the cord hidden in its base—a feature that set it apart from most conventional arms.

The uchine—a tool I could actually wield with some degree of competence.

The standard model was larger, not really suited for concealment. But mine had been custom-made in a smaller size so I could keep it tucked away—just in case.

I removed the sheath from the blade and unraveled the long cord attached to the handle, letting it slide through my fingers. The uchine dangled loosely in the air, swaying in slow arcs, catching the soft, silver light of this sterile, hollow world.

I shifted my stance, turning half sideways. Then I relaxed my arm, feeling the weight of the weapon extend from the root of my shoulder to the tip of the blade—like it was one seamless extension of my body.

In a single fluid motion, I snapped it forward—a whiplike movement targeting a precise point in front of me.

Shiki’s breath caught as he followed the projectile with his eyes.

We didn’t even know where the walls of this space began or ended, but the uchine halted abruptly a few meters ahead of me—like it had struck something. There, gleaming faintly in midair, was a wall of light—nearly invisible until fractured. A jagged crack spread outward from the point of impact.

So there it is—the boundary.

Unfortunately, the force hadn’t been enough to break through. The weapon dropped silently to the ground, and the shimmering crack faded soon after.

She’s still a goddess, I reminded myself bitterly. No matter how twisted or pathetic she is, she’s divine. Picking a fight here might be suicide.

I exhaled slowly, my pulse beginning to steady. That brief burst of rage—of helpless frustration—had passed; for now.

I was trying. I really was. I’d thought through how I might deal with her, but wanted to stay calm. I needed to.

But after getting kidnapped again… Honestly, I don’t trust myself to stay composed when talking to that insect.

“This is probably the Goddess’s domain,” I mused, stooping to retrieve the uchine. “I’ve been here once before.”

“As I suspected,” Shiki replied softly, his head lowering slightly under the weight of the moment.

His unease was visible, but I found his presence indescribably comforting. This time, I’m not alone.

I wasn’t powerless either. No matter where I was thrown, I could still use my telepathic link. Even when I’d been flung onto a battlefield, I had still managed to find my way to the Demiplane in the end—even if I hadn’t come through this place at the time.

I don’t need to be afraid of her like I used to.

Victory wasn’t guaranteed—not yet. But I was closer than ever. Closer to standing on equal ground with her.

“If we can’t react until the very last moment, then launching a counter to kill on impact is… impossible,” Shiki said quietly. “Had we been on alert beforehand—or realized even slightly earlier—perhaps we could have done more. I apologize.”

He looked away. His words carried a hint of fear, and that bothered me more than it should have.

“It’s fine,” I said, gently cutting him off. “You’re a kidnapping victim now too, after all. Next time, we will adjust our strategy. That’s it. Besides, even with my anchor in place, it was still getting torn apart. I don’t think I could’ve held out much longer, even if I’d tried. So really—don’t blame yourself.”

Right on cue, I felt a pair of voices reach out through the link: Tomoe and Mio.

I kept it simple. “Stay on standby, be ready for combat.” Then I cut the connection.

They’d wait in the Demiplane for now, just in case. We’d prepared for this—they’d left decoys in Rotsgard, so no one would notice they’d vanished. If the Goddess was keeping tabs on our movements, we’d rather not show all our cards at once. Shiki’s involvement was exposed now, sure. But if I could keep Tomoe and Mio hidden a little longer, that was still a win.

Even so… I wasn’t holding my breath.

“Um, Young Master…” Shiki hesitated again, his brow creased with unease. “Is it really safe to speak freely here? If this is the Goddess’s domain, then isn’t everything we say being… overheard?”

“Probably.” I shrugged. “But it doesn’t really matter, does it? Even if she’s listening in, we’re already resisting her. I doubt we’re hiding anything she hasn’t figured out by now.”

Besides, was she really that all-knowing?

I didn’t buy it. Shiki gave her too much credit. Honestly, part of me had hoped—even expected—that our abduction countermeasure would work. If the demons could use that ring to block her interference, why couldn’t we manage something similar?

Okay, so it failed this time. Just once. Next time, it’ll work. I’ll make sure it does.

The fact that she didn’t kill us immediately? That meant something too. Maybe she still had plans. Perhaps she just liked stringing people along.

Whatever the reason, she didn’t scare me like before.

“For someone about to face a literal goddess,” Shiki said slowly, “you seem… unusually calm, Young Master.”

“I dunno. Something inside me just kind of snapped, I guess.” I offered a thin smile. “She’s so self-centered, it’s almost funny. I mean, yeah, I’m no saint either, but at least I don’t throw people into deserts for fun. And hey—if she does show up in person, I might get the chance to land a punch or two. Right in the smug face of the queen of selfishness.”

The anger was still there. The resentment. The frustration. But all of it was buried beneath a strange calm—the kind that comes when you’ve hit your limit and moved past it.

Strangely enough… I felt okay.

“You’ve gotten quite bold with your words, haven’t you, Misumi?”

The voice came without warning—omnipresent, vibrating through the very air of the platinum void. It wasn’t loud, but it pressed in from all directions, thick and inescapable, as if the space itself had spoken.

I felt Shiki flinch beside me, his body shuddering, betraying the tension he tried to suppress.

“Well, if it isn’t the Goddess,” I said calmly. “Long time no see.”

Even as I spoke, I was trying to pinpoint where she was. Nothing. Not a trace.

Figures.

Even now, I can’t track her. I’m stronger than before, but still not strong enough.

“I told you to stay in that place forever,” she continued in a voice like ice. “And yet you broke that order with such ease. Then, when I call you to aid on a battlefield, you recklessly throw yourself into the fray. And now… you dare to lash out here! Do you understand your position at all?”

The nerve.

She abducts me without warning, tosses me into a fight against someone like the Dragon Slayer, and now she wants to talk about recklessness? Give me a break.

Besides, I wasn’t acting at her command. I had permission from Tsukuyomi-sama—a real god. One who actually treated me like a person. Not this insect in divine clothing.

“No explanation, no warning—you drop me into a battle with someone like the Dragon Slayer. Even if you’re a god, that’s absurdly selfish behavior, don’t you think?”

“A god cannot be selfish,” she replied coolly. “Those who are used should find joy in the blessing of their role. They should tremble with gratitude.”

I offered a small smile. “You must be joking. What a shame—looks like you and I have nothing in common after all. So do I get the honor of seeing your face this time?”

I kept my tone polite—excessively so. But the edge underneath was sharp enough to draw blood.

Every word that came out of her mouth grated on my nerves. That first impression, that visceral disgust, had never faded.

“After that tone? Please. You’re not worth showing myself to. And thanks to that annoying trick of yours—masking your presence and suppressing your magical energy—it took quite some effort to locate you. You’re a damn nuisance.

“In the end, I had to rely on the high priests to do the job. What a chore. You hid yourself in an academy city, of all places—really dug in, didn’t you? Your aura flared for just a moment earlier, but now you’re back to being so thin I can’t tell if you’re still here. It’s pathetic.”

So, she had noticed the magical ripple when I’d tried to scout the surroundings.

It was clear—as irritating as this was, she couldn’t track me clearly anymore. My presence was too scattered. Even if Shiki and I can’t find her, she can’t pin me down either.

“Hmm? And the one with you… a hyuman? No… not quite. But the magical signature is definitely hyuman… Strange. Another one with no presence, just like you, Misumi.”

“…!”

Her tone had shifted—curious, almost probing. I could feel her trying to reach out with her senses. She was talking about Shiki now.

If she was talking about his magical signature… he might’ve once been hyuman, sure. But now? His energy was more akin to that of a lich or someone undead. You’d think she could sense that much.

Whatever. She’s probably just guessing.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. Whether he’s a demi-human or a golem, he doesn’t seem particularly strong. Now then, Misumi—I’m sending you to Limia. You’re going to help the hero. The demons launched a surprise attack, and things aren’t looking good. Honestly, such meddlesome creatures.”

Of course. That smug, detached tone of hers hit every nerve like nails on glass.

The truth is, every single mess in my life since arriving in this world could be traced back to her. If she hadn’t done anything stupid—if she’d just shut up and given me the hero title like she was supposed to—none of this would’ve happened.

No Greater Dragons trying to rip me apart. No hyumans calling me ugly or muttering about how grotesque I look. I might never have even gotten into trade.

But no. Instead of one clean, straightforward life… I got this mess.

“Maybe you should go help the hero yourself, Goddess. Why rely on someone like me?” My voice was drenched in sarcasm.

Shiki still didn’t speak. Not a single word. Maybe he was frozen—stunned into silence by the presence of divinity or the sheer absurdity of hearing this sanctimonious nonsense firsthand.

Although, whether a disembodied voice counts as a face-to-face meeting with a god is… debatable.

So, she wanted me to protect Limia’s hero because the demons were making a move.

From what Shiki had told me earlier… Limia’s hero really was the target. If the Goddess was going out of her way to pull me into this mess—then yeah, things were probably as bad as they sounded.

If Gritonia’s hero still hasn’t moved to help, that probably means Shiki’s predictions were spot-on.

“If I could do it myself, I would have,” the Goddess spat. “But gods have their own circumstances. Things someone like you could never understand. Do you think we can descend into the world whenever we please? That’s not how it works, fool.”

How the hell should I know? I grew up in a world where we weren’t even sure gods existed. Don’t ask me what divine limitations look like.

“Yet, not long ago, the demons blocked your interference completely, didn’t they?” I questioned.

“That will never happen again,” she snapped. “Never.”

And then—her voice shifted. The tone sharpened, the pace quickened.

“Enough. I don’t have time to waste talking to you. The answer is yes—now go.”

That stumble. Just a moment’s hesitation before she gave the order. Something had changed.

Is something happening? Has the situation gotten worse?

Not that it mattered, if she wouldn’t even listen. I wasn’t about to let her whisk me off to the battlefield like a toy soldier.

Being dragged along on her whim was precisely the kind of thing I wasn’t going to allow anymore. So I spoke up—loudly, clearly, my voice piercing through her power as I felt it begin to wrap around me.

“I might go, but! Just so you know—if I do, I might side with the demons!”

The air trembled. I could feel the divine pressure around me hesitate.

I dropped an anchor again, pouring my magic into the same countermeasure I’d used before. This time, I did it intentionally, not on reflex, but for negotiation.

If what she’d said was true, and she really couldn’t interfere freely with the mortal world… then maybe, just maybe, she could be reasoned with. Or at least manipulated.

It was a rare moment of clarity in my usually stormy head—one of those split seconds where everything lined up.

Sure enough, the force receded.

“Are you serious?” she questioned after a pause. “You are, in the end, still a human. And the hero is someone from your own world. You have no reason—none—to side with the demons. Enough of this. I won’t indulge your childish rebellion any longer.”

Childish rebellion?

Oh, now you’ve done it.

“Ahahahaha! Of course, I have a reason! It’s because I hate you!” I shouted, letting every bit of venom bubble to the surface. “I just don’t want to do what you say! Isn’t that reason enough? Doesn’t that sound like someone the demons would love to work with?”

I couldn’t help it—I thought of Zara, the Merchant Guild representative, and the way he’d snapped, turning cold and furious in an instant.

Part of me wanted to see what she would do. And part of me… just wanted to be the one yelling for once. Maybe I should’ve gone full edgelord and started using the pronoun of “ore” instead of “boku.”

Unfortunately, saying “ore” just feels… wrong. I’ve always used “boku”—since forever. Feels like that’s never going to change.

Still, that was not the point right now.

Truthfully, I didn’t care if she believed my bluff. I didn’t even mind going to Limia. I had no deep objection to helping the hero.

Trying to cut a deal with a goddess—yeah, maybe it was reckless. It wasn’t planned. I hadn’t even come up with what I wanted in return. It was a spur-of-the-moment outburst.

And when has my charging in without thinking ever led to anything good?

Exactly. The answer hit like a brick to the face.

But still!

Something about her tone—so smug, so consistent—lit a fire deep in my chest.

The same anger I’d felt that day in the Wasteland. The same fury I’d kept bottled up surged up from my throat, heavy, hot, and impossible to stop.

I was done holding it in.

“How foolish… This is nothing more than a childish tantrum,” she scolded with regal disgust. “You dare to reject the only true god of this world—and for what? You, the demons, all living things in this world, owe your very lives to my blessing. Without it, none of you could survive.”

“Oh, give me a break!” I shouted back. “I did survive—in a world without gods. For seventeen years! And guess what? I got along just fine without divine handouts.”

The words flew out, unfiltered, raw.

“The hyumans—clinging to blessings, calling it fate—it’s pathetic! Shouldn’t they want to grow their own magic? Develop their own technology? Instead, they grovel like it’s a virtue!”

And her? She calls herself the one and only god, but what does she do?

If she really wanted to act like the supreme being of this world, she could at least guide people—not teach them to sneer at demi-humans or treat non-hyumans like dirt.

She doesn’t create. She divides.

“To compare your world with this one is nothing but ignorance,” she retorted. “In this world, I am the rule. And if you refuse to follow it… I could erase you right here and now.”

“An empty threat,” I spat. “If you could have done that, you would’ve—right after that first kidnapping stunt failed. But I didn’t follow your little script, did I? You’re not an absolute rule—you’re a liar. A fraud. A defective god in a twisted world you can’t even fully control.”

I’ve thought about her a lot—more than I wanted to admit.

She wasn’t anything like the omnipotent, all-knowing deity I’d once imagined when thinking of a one true god. The way she spoke, the way she acted—even the state of the world around us—all of it made that clear. She obviously couldn’t interfere directly, not anymore. She had to use me to reach the battlefield. To help the hero. She was shackled by her own so-called divine rules.

I could see it: This was a desperate workaround.

“I see,” she replied coolly. “Allowing you into this domain was too generous. Very well. You will not be granted the honor of seeing my form. Here, you will—”

A chill crept down my spine. Cold and slow, like a wet thread sliding along my skin. The air thickened, and something vast began to coil around me—quiet but suffocating.

Then, abruptly, another voice rang out through the space.

“G-Goddess! If you keep your visitors waiting any longer, they’ve said they’ll force their way in!”

It echoed awkwardly across the divine silence, like someone shouting through a locked door. Clearly panicked.

The Goddess didn’t even try to hide her irritation. “Tch—Again?! Over and over! Can’t they take a hint?! I said I don’t want to see them!”

The cold, crushing pressure that had begun to gather around me… dissipated slowly—like mist rolling away.

My body started to relax before I’d even realized it. The tension in my chest unraveled, and the raw anger that had welled up like molten iron was cooling off.

Did I go too far?

Yeah. Probably.

I’d let myself get worked up. Said things I hadn’t even thought through. And now that I was calming down, I could admit it—staying levelheaded around her was impossible. There was just too much anger, too much bitterness. Too many things I’d never been allowed to say. Being pushed around by her like some throwaway tool—it made my blood boil.

Even now… I wanted to test it. To fight her. To see how far I can go.

No. I had already tried. Just moments ago.

I looked at Shiki.

He was trembling. Not from excitement. Not from anticipation. This was fear—the kind that wrapped around you and refused to let go. His hands, his shoulders, even his jaw… all of it shook.

It wasn’t hard to figure out what I’d done.

I’d dragged him into something dangerous. Something he wasn’t ready for. I’d pushed too hard, too fast.

The truth was, I still didn’t know what would’ve happened if I’d pushed her further. I wanted to believe that she couldn’t erase me, that there were rules preventing her from going that far. But what if those limitations were just inconveniences? Obstacles she could work around if she really wanted to?

If that’s the case… then yeah. It’s still too soon.

I felt a flicker of gratitude toward the voice that had cut in earlier—one of the Goddess’s attendants, I assumed. A nymph or something? Whatever she was called, I owed her a bit.

Because she’d bought me time to think.

Indistinct snippets of the conversation between the Goddess and her followers leaked through the air.

“Nevertheless, from the origin world—”

“I get it! I’m going! You go back and calm them down—”

“Kyaaaa-aaaaaaahhh!!!”

A sudden scream tore through the space, raw and high-pitched—clearly not part of any orderly divine meeting.

“Tch! Are you kidding me?! They forced their way in?! That muscle-brained lunatic!!!”

For the first time, she sounded genuinely rattled. Then she turned her attention back to me.

“Misumi!” she snapped. “I understand now—you’re clearly dissatisfied with me. Fine. Let’s make this the last time. From here on, unless you actively oppose the hyumans, I will not interfere with you. Does that sound acceptable?”

It wasn’t a bad offer.

Actually, it was more than I’d expected.

But… letting it go just like that? After everything she’d said—after nearly getting erased a few minutes ago?

No way. My anger hadn’t cooled enough for that.

Even if I couldn’t fight her outright, I wanted some payback—something to tip the scales, even if just a little.

“That’s not enough,” I replied, my tone flat. “You’re the one asking me to help. And it’s not like this hero has anything to do with me.”

There was a pause. Then the scorn returned in her voice.

“I see. This is about rewards, then? How human. I always hated that greed—even in my own creations. I was never able to remove it when I based the species on yours. And you, still clinging to your humanity despite your power… It suits you perfectly. Still, you’re lucky—lucky you survived today, and lucky I’m too busy to waste time arguing. State your wish. Quickly.”

Now?! I stiffened. What the hell do I even want?

This was supposed to be a petty little jab—a way to twist the knife, not a real negotiation. Now she was serious, and she was rushing me.

What do I actually need?

Armor? Weapons? The dwarves could craft those.

Magic? I already had understanding, courtesy of this annoying bug. My mana pool might even surpass hers by now.

Then maybe… should I ask her to change the way I look?

Like hell I would.

I’d lived my whole life with this face. There was no way I was going to let her change it—not just to become some conventionally handsome guy. The thought alone made my stomach turn.

But then what?

“Time’s up,” the Goddess declared coldly. “To beg for something without even knowing what it is… How grotesque. Like a starving beast—shameless and pathetic.”

“Then,” a voice cut in from beside me, “may I request the Blessing of the Common Language for this one?”

I turned.

Shiki?

Of course—language. If I could speak the common language fluently, that would make things infinitely easier. I’d gotten so used to relying on written magic and telepathy that I hadn’t even thought about it. But he was right. It was practical, modest, and achievable.

A solid request.

“I don’t recall giving you permission to speak, worm,” she snapped, clearly annoyed. “Still… hmm. Little Misumi can’t speak the common language?”

“Yeah,” I said bluntly. “Thanks to your little curse.”

“Curse? Please. I simply gave you Comprehension—minus the hyuman language. If you can’t learn to speak it after that, you’re worse than the demi-humans you look down on. They managed, after all.”

“You have time for a petty argument like this, Goddess?”

The casual words slipped out without thought. Damn, I really do hate her.

“You left out the ‘sama.’ Always so disrespectful. As expected of the child of one who abandoned my world. Fine, I’ll grant it. That minor thing, I’ll give in advance—

“Oh?” she cut herself off. “It won’t go in… Strange. There’s no reason something like this should fail…”

Suddenly, I felt it.

An intense, alien sensation gripped my skull. It was like invisible hands were squeezing my brain from both sides, kneading it, prodding it. So, this was what the Blessing of the Common Language felt like?

What the hell is this?!

“Ghh—ngh…!”

“Hurts, does it? Curious. Still—this is what you wanted, isn’t it? You asked for it. So, whatever happens now—I’m not to blame. If you die afterward, that’s on you—not me. Understand that.”

The sensation of something probing through my mind grew stronger. It was like my brain was being crushed—an eerie, sickening pressure paired with sharp, throbbing pain coming in waves, like a brutal migraine.

Ugh… this is the worst.

There was no way I was letting her hear me groan. I clenched my jaw, twisted my expression, and endured it in silence. Even as nausea surged up my throat, I refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing I was in pain.

“Hmph. That’s the end of it,” she concluded, smug as ever. “Remember our deal. You made a pact with a god—break it and face the consequences. Eliminate the threat to the hero… and while you’re at it, take Stella Fortress. Fail and die. Actually, even if you die, you succeed.”

“Terms confirmed,” I replied through gritted teeth. “Protect the hero. Capture Stella Fortress. No mistakes, right?”

If I went through all that and still can’t speak the common language, I swear I’ll find a way to punch her through the void.

“Yes, yes. Now disappear—ugh, they’re already here?! I was just about to—”

The ground vanished beneath me.

Her presence peeled away like a tide retreating, her voice yanked into the distance. That same nauseating sensation of floating returned—just like last time. She never waited for replies. That a negotiation even took place felt like a miracle. Maybe those “guests from the original world” had put pressure on her. If so, I genuinely hoped she was getting torn to pieces right now.

“Young Master, your nose… and your eyes are bleeding,” Shiki informed me.

Wiping beneath my nose and at the corners of my eyes, I found my fingers coated in blood.

“Seriously? Ugh, she probably messed something up in my head.”

A nosebleed I could shrug off. But crying blood? That was new.

Shiki looked pale. His voice shook, but there was a fire in his eyes. “That… That truly was a god. I felt completely powerless. But someday—no, soon—I will overcome this.”

Tomoe and Mio would hear about this eventually. I wondered how they’d react. Laugh? Get angry? Either way, they’d have opinions.

Before Shiki could say more, something hit us… hard. An external force crushed our bodies together, as if we were being shoved into a vacuum-sealed box. It was awful.

Then the world twisted beneath us.

We were falling. Again.

“W-Woooooaahhhh?!” Shiki flailed wildly, panicking in midair. I felt him grab onto me like a lifeline.

“Thanks for the resolve, Shiki. Let’s both live through this.”

“Y-Young Master?! Wh-What is this?!”

“It’s my third time,” I said, shrugging as we dropped. “You get used to it. I could handle any roller coaster now. We’re probably headed straight for the capital of Limia.”

Clouds tore past us, and wind screamed in our ears. My vision spun, but despite everything, I stayed oddly calm. The ground wasn’t close yet, but I’d need to brace soon—the landing was clearly up to us. Tsukuyomi-sama had softened mine last time. This bug? Definitely not.

Right. While she’s busy dealing with whoever forced their way in, I should contact Tomoe and Mio. Let them know where we’re…

Wait a second.

Tomoe and Mio. If it were those two—no, because it was them—this could work.

Shiki had said it before: We needed to start giving more credit to the people of the Demiplane—and he was right.

If that’s the case… then it’s time. The world’s already in chaos. No better moment than this.

“Tomoe. Mio.” I reached out to them through telepathy. Shiki was still a little too shaken to be taking commands, so I’d get to him later.

Tomoe’s response came instantly. “You’re safe, Young Master? No injuries?”

“That damned goddess!” Mio replied with her usual passion. “What did she do this time?! Are you hurt anywhere, Young Master?!”

“I’m fine. Both of you, listen—Shiki’s got a read on her, so talk to him later if you want the details. For now, I need to ask something important.”

“Of course. Name it. Where are you?” Tomoe asked.

“We’ll be right there! Just say the word!” Mio added.

“I’m currently falling over what’s probably the capital of Limia. But… I don’t want either of you coming here,” I replied.

“…!”

“What?!”

Their shock hit me like a pulse through the link. I paused, thinking through my next words.

The winged folk and the gorgons… they were strong, but I wasn’t confident yet—too many variables.

Then—yes. That was the better option.

“Tomoe, Mio. I’ll handle this side with Shiki. I want the two of you, along with any highland orcs or misty lizardfolk who are willing…”

I paused again, steadying the thought. Even through the link, I felt Tomoe’s silence thicken. It wasn’t uncertainty—it was focus. She already understood what I was asking, and emotion surged from her before a single word came.

“Take Kaleneon,” I ordered.

That was it—no detailed plan. I didn’t know much about the place myself—certainly not enough to dictate operations. So, I gave a few broad objectives, outlined the big picture, then left the rest to Tomoe and Mio.

The original strategy had shifted slightly, thanks to Rona’s decision to unleash the variants. But even so, this was the start.

I severed the link and let out a long breath.

Now then…

The closer the battlefield loomed, the sharper my thoughts became. My head felt like it had been dunked in ice water—clear, cold, focused.

I’m not a genius. I’ve never had overwhelming talent. But this feeling… this is something else.

A thrill. It feels like shedding a skin, stepping forward into something new.

“Shiki, I’ll handle the landing. Can you cloak us in darkness long enough for us to go unnoticed?” I asked.

“Y-Yes! I’ll do my best!”

“Also…”

Below us, the city came into view. Huge, sprawling—and on fire.

It wasn’t the glow of torchlight. This wasn’t a peaceful night. This was a city burning.

Just in time.

Wrapped in a black sphere trailing golden light, Shiki and I streaked through the sky, straight toward the heart of the royal capital of Limia.

※※※

“Mio,” Tomoe said at last, her voice low.

“…”

“You feel it, don’t you?”

“Yes. To the point that I tremble.”

The second abduction. The Goddess’s hand reaching out again. Shiki had been there—and though the two had some choice words for him, they’d forgotten every last complaint the moment they heard Makoto’s voice. Because what he said wasn’t just a request—it was an order. For the first time that they could remember, he was speaking with absolute authority.

“This means the Demiplane will finally have seasons,” Mio murmured. “You must be happy, Tomoe-san.”

“You already know, Mio. That kind of thing… doesn’t matter right now.”

The swordswoman didn’t smile with serenity. Her lips curled with something fiercer—anticipation.

The joy flooding her being wasn’t about temperature or trees. It was about their Young Master. About the simple, undeniable fact that—for the first time—he had told them to go to war for his sake. Not out of caution or strategy, but because he wanted something.

“He wants Kaleneon,” Tomoe whispered. “And he told us to take it. Ku ku… kuhuhuhuhuhu. He ordered us to bring it to him. And this feeling… I never imagined it could be like this.”

“I know,” Mio said softly. “It’s always meant something to move for his sake. But to be entrusted… to be spoken to, chosen—I hadn’t imagined how deeply it would move me.”

It wasn’t the objective that thrilled them; it was the command. Until now, Makoto had given many orders. Requests. Decisions made with others in mind. But this time, it wasn’t compromise. It wasn’t caution. It was will. Pure and personal. Unapologetically his.

The intelligence about Kaleneon had come from Eva. The interest? From Makoto’s curiosity about his parents. But this decision—this command—was his alone.

For Tomoe and Mio, nothing could be more meaningful.

They weren’t just serving. They weren’t merely protecting. They were acting as the edge of his desire—as loyal blades drawn not for duty but for joy.

“Young Master said it himself,” Tomoe murmured, her eyes still fixed ahead. “The location I indicated will suffice… for now.”

“Of course,” Mio replied confidently. “But we both know what he meant.”

“Indeed. The entire region shall be purged. Not just the demons, but any who dare side with them—all will vanish.”

Though the fire in their voices simmered just beneath the surface, both women remained perfectly still—statues carved from resolution itself. There was, however, more than vengeance or loyalty burning in their hearts.

Makoto had changed.

“Truth be told,” Tomoe went on, voice tinged with a sort of reverence, “I’d have loved nothing more than for the two of us to descend at once and raze the land ourselves. But… our master has begun to accept them—the denizens of the Demiplane—as his people. This moment, this honor—it must be shared.”

“With the lizardfolk and the orcs,” Mio said softly, understanding precisely what Tomoe meant.

It wasn’t the type of order the old Makoto would have given. Until now, he’d seen the inhabitants of the Demiplane as companions—friends to protect, not soldiers to wield. But this… this was different. A shift in intent. A recognition of their worth.

Makoto had merely said, “If they wish to join.”

Tomoe and Mio had no doubts. Once the news was delivered, not only would volunteers pour in, but even those who had been deployed to Rotsgard ahead of time might regret missing out.

Tomoe almost pitied the misty lizardfolk who had been summoned elsewhere—almost.

Without wasting a moment, the two departed from Makoto’s residence and set out to speak with the leaders of their respective races.

They didn’t wait for a reply. They didn’t need one.

The roar that answered them was thunderous—primal. A triumphant cry that shook the earth beneath the Demiplane. From the misty lizardfolk in the east to the highland orcs in the west, a unified bellow of exultation rose, one that could only mean yes.

The honor was accepted.

Tomoe and Mio nodded with pride, then stood before their assembled forces—warriors not born for war but honed under a shared sky.

“Our lord fights elsewhere,” Tomoe said, her voice calm and cool, cutting through the stirred emotions like steel. “Deliver him absolute victory.”

“Do not shame the days you spent training in the Demiplane,” Mio added. “And do not shame the one who deemed you worthy of this task. You will give everything to this battle.”

No further words were needed.

A ripple shimmered through the air as one of the largest mist gates the Demiplane had ever seen began to form—a massive vortex linking their quiet world to the scarred remains of Kaleneon.

No fanfare or cheers. Just purpose.

Without a sound, the two women stepped forward. And like a tide drawn by their wake, the mixed forces of misty lizardfolk and highland orcs followed, walking in disciplined silence, one after another, vanishing into the veil of fog.

Perhaps they feared that even a single shout would disturb the sense of sacred resolve. Or maybe they were waiting for the right moment—to let the fire explode where it mattered most.

One thing was certain…

That day, the Demiplane marched to war. Their first campaign had begun.

Chapter 2

“This isn’t the time to be complaining about exhaustion,” Mio declared as she thrust her left hand forward.

Narrowing her concentration, she didn’t focus her energy on her hand but rather extended an image of release from her sleeve. Invisible magic spread from her at breakneck speed. If one could see it, it would resemble a vast, intricate spiderweb stretching across the land, layer upon layer.

After gaining her hyuman form, Mio had honed this technique to strengthen her once-weak detection abilities.

“I have high hopes for you, Mio.” Standing beside her, Tomoe crossed her arms, glancing over with a sidelong smile.

“Oh, by all means—expect great things. Here we go,” Mio replied.

Kaleneon. Once, this place had been home to a small hyuman kingdom. Now, it was to be occupied by the subordinates of Makoto—no, of Raidou, the head of the Kuzunoha Company.

Tomoe and Mio stood at the forefront, leading a line of around a hundred monstrous warriors—highland orcs and misty lizardfolk, drawn from the Wasteland. They were fully armed and armored, and their weapons caught flashes of moonlight as they walked, glinting with a deadly promise.

As Mio’s voice resounded in their minds, a collective murmur of admiration rose from the ranks.

“A shared radar link, huh?” Tomoe’s words dripped with satisfaction. “That’s an impressive spell. Makes it feel like I can see everything around us.”

It was the moment when Mio’s vast detection field linked with the senses of the others. The shared range extended to roughly twenty kilometers—a range more than sufficient for their operation tonight.

In truth, Mio’s own detection field stretched even farther, but sharing it all would only confuse matters. For tonight, she’d decided to limit the shared link to the operational area.

Only Tomoe received the full scope of Mio’s field; for the orcs and lizards, she narrowed it to the immediate mission zone.

Tomoe’s use of the word “radar” was a fitting analogy.

The troops emerging from the Demiplane now carried their own personal radars in their minds, each of them connected to the same invisible network. Even though they hadn’t yet engaged the enemy, they already knew exactly how many defenders awaited them at the stronghold they planned to attack—and how that strength was distributed.

“Ah, a night raid.” Mio’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “I wonder how hard they’ll struggle.”

“No need for a formal declaration of war,” Tomoe said, her tone matter-of-fact. “That’s already been taken care of. Our Young Master’s wishes—this time, we’ll honor them all.”

“Indeed. Ah, I can’t wait any longer. I’ll go on ahead.”

Mio took a single step—and vanished, her form dissolving like a heat haze.

“Mio, you—! Well, I suppose there’s no helping it.” Tomoe’s grin was both resigned and excited. “I feel exactly the same. Listen up, everyone! I can’t promise I’ll hold back tonight. Mio’s headed for the heart of the fortress, so I’ll secure the Demiplane gate. Stay out of our way for a while.”

She turned back to the assembled ranks, eyes blazing with a fierce determination rarely seen in her calm demeanor. Her little army nodded solemnly, their gazes burning with the same barely contained heat.

“You all feel the same, don’t you? Highland orcs! Misty lizardfolk! Let yourselves go wild—give them hell! Don’t bother chasing down the ones who flee. Remember, this is officially a war between Kaleneon and the demons.”

Tomoe paused, drawing a deep breath.

She raised her unsheathed blade high, pointing it skyward—a rallying signal that gathered every eye, every heart in that moment.

“For our Young Master’s cause—show them no mercy! Crush every last one of them! Leave nothing standing!!!”

Tomoe’s voice thundered across the battlefield. Before the echoes faded, she launched herself into the air, vanishing into the mist in a blink. A deafening roar followed, like a war cry rolling across the night. Streams of colored breath pierced the darkness like miniature auroras, courtesy of the misty lizardfolk.

It was the beginning, not so much of an assault, but of utter annihilation.

The small mixed force advanced with a thunderous intensity that could have been mistaken for the march of a grand army. Their target: the demons’ main fortress within Kaleneon, a repurposed city now bristling with fortifications.

According to Tomoe’s prior reconnaissance, roughly two thousand demons occupied the stronghold. Not exactly an elite frontline force, but more than enough to hold a fortress against a typical enemy.

While they had initially been distracted by Mio’s infiltration, it took only a heartbeat for them to notice the approaching monsters. Reacting with impressive speed, they bolstered the fortress gates with defensive spells, lined the outer walls with archers and mages, and prepared for battle.

Considering that Mio was already rampaging within their ranks, their response time was actually commendable.

Unfortunately, they’d drawn the worst possible opponent.

They couldn’t have known—and never would—that the attackers they now faced hailed from the Edge of the World, a territory where deadly creatures roamed like everyday nuisances. Worse still, these warriors had been honed in the Demiplane under the tutelage of a Greater Dragon and the Black Spider of Calamity.

These were monsters among monsters—already terrifying under normal circumstances—and tonight their morale was at its peak.

It was no contest.

In truth, Tomoe and Mio could have simply teleported the highland orcs and misty lizardfolk straight inside the fortress. The castle gates would have been a non-issue. But the troops had insisted on a frontal assault.

All for one reason: to show their master the true extent of their might in distant lands.

The fortress of Kaleneon had become an offering to Makoto. No arrow, no spell—nothing launched at them—could touch their ranks. Not a single shaft reached its mark. Something was off. By the time the defending soldiers realized the battle had taken a strange turn, it was already too late. The attackers had made their move.

“Go!” The command came from an orc with an air of elegance unusual for her kind—a mage named Ema.

“Yeah!!!” A thunderous roar split the night as Agarest, a towering orc warrior wielding a massive, blade-tipped mace, leaped forward. His body flared red as he surged into the air, propelled like a cannonball.

Even before he landed, Ema had already poured her most potent strengthening magic into his charge. Without hesitation, she turned her focus back to protecting their forces from the hail of arrows and spells pouring down from the fortress walls. In that moment, she bore no resemblance to the mild-mannered clerk she usually was; tonight, she wore the face of a warrior. The defending demon soldiers instantly recognized the orcs’ intent to breach the gate—and they reacted without delay.

“Reinforce the barrier! How’s the integrity?!”

“Stable! We can patch it or reinforce it instantly!”

“Good! First, take down that orc!”

Even as the defenders shouted, beams of magical energy and a storm of arrows converged on the airborne highland orc, closing in fast.

“Raaahhhh!!! You think you can stop me?!” Agarest, massive even by orcish standards, hefted his gigantic mace in both hands, his stance unshaken. With a roar that shook the heavens, he swung the weapon down. The impact landed with a thunderclap, a colossal boom that echoed through the fortress and sent trees swaying.

Smoke billowed up in a thick cloud, and through the haze, a single, towering figure emerged, unbowed. Even through the haze of battle, there was no mistaking it: The fortress’s once-imposing gate now lay in shattered ruin.

Shadows darted forward, desperate to hold the breach, weapons gleaming as they lunged at the orc warrior. But it was a futile effort. This was going to be a massacre.

Agarest swung his massive mace twice in a blur, and every shadow that had dared to charge him was blown back in the direction from which they’d come.

“Don’t you dare underestimate a pig of the Wasteland!” he roared, his voice booming as the fortress’s beacon fires cast him in a bloody glow. “Don’t get cocky just because our numbers are few—give it everything you’ve got! There are plenty behind me who are stronger than I am! If you fight half-heartedly, then we can’t fight at our best either!”

“Keep going!!!”

With a thunderous cry, the Demiplane army surged into the fortress like a flood.

“Don’t let them in! We can’t let a bunch of nobodies—”

“Just a handful of orcs and lizardmen—there’s not even a hundred of them!”

Just orcs? That’s what they believed, and under normal circumstances, they’d be right. In the hierarchy of the demon army, orcs and lizardfolk held little standing.

For the soldiers defending this fortress in demon territory, the idea that they might be facing a force of monsters from the Edge of the World was unthinkable. No matter how fiercely they resisted, their efforts crumbled under the relentless assault.

The Demiplane army’s morale remained unbroken, an unstoppable force crashing against the walls of this fortress. No more than several dozen attackers, splitting into small squads, taking on two thousand defenders.

Thanks to Mio’s blessing, the lizardfolk could pinpoint every enemy combatant’s position with unerring precision. They broke into groups of three—the smallest viable unit—and scattered, carving through the defenders’ formations before they could fully rally.

It was, by any measure, reckless to the point of insanity.

If Makoto himself had heard only their words, he might have called it a tactician’s nightmare—an attack that defied every principle of strategy.

After all, they didn’t even have enough troops to properly breach the gate in the first place.

And yet…

They had shattered that gate. They had drawn out every single defender and thrown the enemy into disarray.

Every member of the Demiplane army understood the battlefield perfectly: They knew that Mio had already reached a critical point, that Tomoe was racing at breakneck speed toward her objective.

Everyone’s heart blazed with the same fire, each person clenching their fists, determined to follow suit.

For the demon soldiers, this nightmarish battle had only just begun.

※※※

“Oh dear, I feel a bit sorry for Tomoe-san, but it seems I’ve drawn the winning ticket,” Mio announced cheerfully.

She stood in what appeared to have once been a grand conference room deep within the fortress. There, she’d encountered what she considered the jackpot—perhaps the most formidable opponent out of all those present.

From the shadows at the back of the chamber, a figure spoke up. His voice was low and steady. “Who are you? Will you answer me, woman?”

“Of course,” she replied with a sweet half-smile. “My name is Mio. And you are?”

“I am one of the Demon Lord’s soldiers. Do you require more than that?”

Mio laughed—a bright, unsettling sound that rang throughout the room. “If I don’t know your name, it’ll be difficult to report to my master later. It’s a bit inconvenient, you see.”

“My name is Left,” he answered, his eyes gleaming as he stepped forward. “Left of the Mutant Dragon—Mildy Dragon.”

Though his upper body retained a roughly hyuman form, his lower half coiled like a serpent’s tail. Makoto, had he seen him, might have called him a naga. He radiated a palpable strength and a weighty presence, and the spear he wielded was no mere ornament; it thrummed with dense, menacing magic.

For Mio—who longed to deliver a powerful trophy to her master—this was the perfect prey.

“Oh my, a mutated dragon. How fascinating,” she cooed. “At first glance, I thought you were just a snake.”

“Mio, was it? To attack us without so much as a declaration of war—who are you people? You’re no hyuman army, nor do you look like any orc or lizardman horde I’ve heard of.”

A soft, delighted laugh slipped from Mio’s lips, and her eyes gleamed with anticipation. She was so happy, she couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her face, even though she knew she was smack in the middle of enemy territory.

“Not willing to answer, then? No matter. It’s your misfortune that I happened to be here. I’ll crush—”

“Oh no, I’ll answer you,” Mio cut in, her eyes narrowing with a wicked gleam.

“What?!”

“We’ve already declared war,” she said, her voice honeyed and menacing all at once. “Or rather, it was you who declared it, wasn’t it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“We are Kaleneon,” she declared. “And it is you, demonkind, who will be leaving this land.”

“Kale… neon?” Left’s brows knitted in confusion. “You mean the hyuman kingdom that used to be here? Are you claiming to be soldiers of a dead nation?”

“No, Kaleneon never fell. It’s always been here.”

“Are you insane?” Left’s expression twisted with suspicion. Mio’s words sounded to him like the ravings of a drug-addled lunatic.

She only laughed, a soft, almost tender sound. “That’s how it’s going to be,” she said, her voice chillingly calm. “From this point on, by our hands.”

Her attitude and words had changed little, yet even someone like Left could sense the madness in her now.

“North of Stella Fortress lies the demon territory we control!” he barked, his fury boiling over. “This Kaleneon is nothing more than one of our settlements! We don’t have time to indulge your delusions!”

Mio smiled a dangerous smile. “And that’s exactly why it’s so convenient,” she purred. “Hyumans don’t trust your kind. Even if I claimed there’s a country here that never fell, no one would dare deny it. And as long as it exists—even just as a possibility—it’s real enough for me.”

“What?”

There was something in Mio’s words—a certainty that couldn’t be dismissed as mere madness—that made Left’s words catch in his throat.

“To be honest,” she continued, “I don’t really care about that part. Whether this is where Kaleneon once stood or where it still stands is irrelevant to me. The only thing that matters is that I defeat you and offer this land to my master.”

“You… What are you people?” Left asked again, bewildered.

With a flick of her wrist, Mio raised her fan and pointed it at him. “Shall we begin?”

“It seems I can’t just kill you outright,” Left muttered, leveling his massive spear at Mio. His half-human, half-serpent form coiled menacingly, the muscles in his serpentine lower half tensing like a spring.

“If you can defeat me, then do as you please,” Mio replied, her smile unfading. “Ah, so they’ve broken through the gate. Those warriors of ours are also giving everything they have to offer victory to our Young Master. Of course, on a day like today, there’s not a single one among us who would dare fail.”

Left narrowed his eyes, sensing a pressure that defied reason. “This presence… It’s not something a pack of mere madmen could produce,” he muttered aloud. “To think I’d find myself in such a fight even before encountering the hero…”

Left of the Mutant Dragon. By sheer chance, this demon general had been stationed at the fortress tonight. A being so fearsome that ordinary soldiers would flee at the mere sight of him, he was a high-ranking demon commander who exuded a killer’s aura.

Yet even as that deadly intent washed over her, Mio’s eyes only narrowed in delight, her smile unfaltering.

※※※

“Interesting…”

In a modest room on the outskirts of the imperial capital, a woman perused a stack of documents filled with diverse data. She was striking, with blue skin that immediately marked her as something other than hyuman. Though she lacked horns, her appearance was unmistakably non-hyuman.

Clad in a tailored suit and a lavishly decorated cloak that draped over her shoulders, she radiated authority. This was Rona, one of the demon generals. The cloak was issued only to generals of her rank—and to wear it was a dangerous thing given what it announced, even here on the fringes of the hyuman capital.

Rona seemed oblivious to the risk. Her posture was confident, her expression composed. Clearly, she believed this place to be perfectly safe.

Gone, however, was the playful demeanor and the coquettish air she’d shown when she’d faced Makoto. Now she wore only the face of a general.

Rona’s door swung open, and with no warning, a young woman with blue hair stepped inside, followed by a young boy.

“Busy day, huh?” the woman said. “I can’t exactly talk, but you really are bold, Rona.”

Rona rolled the documents in her hand into a loose scroll and tapped them lightly on the desk.

“Sofia, I really don’t mind if you run wild.” Rona didn’t bother to look up from her papers. “With your strength, you can sow plenty of chaos without running into the hero. Besides, didn’t you easily slaughter that so-called elite imperial unit? Keep it up, please.”

Once she’d spared her visitors a single, dismissive glance, she returned her gaze to the stack of documents on her desk.

“I can’t help but feel unsatisfied,” Sofia persisted. “This scattershot approach of ours—these half-hearted, roundabout attacks—seem so pointless. I keep wondering: What’s the meaning behind them?”

“You’ve already inflicted plenty of damage on the imperial army,” Rona replied, folding her arms as she finally met Sofia’s eyes. “There’s no lack of aggression on our part. Don’t worry about it. Besides, you two showing your faces here in the capital could be risky, don’t you think? The troops in this sector are already on the back foot; it’d be helpful if you could support them from the rear.”

“At first, I thought the plan was to lure the scattered enemy units out and then coordinate a pincer attack to wipe them out,” Sofia said. “But that’s not it, is it? You’ve been throwing units away with no hesitation, Rona. We’re not your subordinates—we’re your allies. You should at least share information properly.”

“Hmph.” Rona sighed, her face locked in a mask of cold professionalism. “We’re in the middle of an operation, you know. Technically, the two of you are under my command. If you’re allies, then cooperate fully with the operation.”

“Did you hear that, Mitsurugi?” Sofia teased, turning to the boy beside her.

“Talk like that dampens my enthusiasm,” replied Mitsurugi, also known as Lancer. “Especially coming from someone who acts like they’ve uncovered something important.”

Neither of them made any attempt to hide their irritation as they glared at Rona.

Rona had gone back to reading the incoming reports from her subordinates, tracking the progress of the battle. Now she lifted her gaze, her expression hard.

“There’s something about the imperial hero,” she answered after a moment. “He has a dual nature—at times, he’s extremely aggressive; at other times, he gets weirdly cautious. It seems to switch at random, regardless of the plan in play. I wanted to know the cause of that—having that information would give us a major advantage later. And I also wanted to gauge the strength of that ‘elite’ unit Gritonia’s been hiding. You two were kind enough to drag them out for me—and even wipe out one of their squads. That helps a lot. Thanks to you, I can start drafting countermeasures.”

She allowed herself a small, challenging smile. “So, does that answer satisfy you? And just so we’re clear—that’s a debt you owe me now.”

“I seeee,” Sofia drawled, her tone dripping with mock curiosity. “So you wanted to rummage through Gritonia’s secrets and see what was inside. Hmph, how interesting! Well, that unit wasn’t much to begin with. Even without us, anyone could have handled them—they were unbalanced and full of openings.”

“Exactly,” Rona agreed, nodding thoughtfully. “At first, I was worried they might have tampered with the Adventurer’s Guild system, but it turned out to be nothing. Just another of the hero’s quirks. It could have been troublesome if that knowledge had spread to Limia, but fortunately, that hasn’t happened yet. And with Io going all out, it’s probably only a matter of time before they’re finished off for good.”

Sofia’s smirk widened. The revelation that Gritonia’s high-level unit was nothing but a poorly constructed threat had been a relief to Rona—and a valuable card to play.

“Looks like that hero’s party doesn’t have level restrictions anymore,” Sofia mused. “I found it creepy how they were mass-producing high-level soldiers like they were farming fish—but even if they’re strong, high levels alone won’t save them.”

“Rona,” Lancer interjected, his voice smooth and sharp, “if you’re calling in that debt, then you should share what you know about the hero’s ‘dual nature.’ Don’t worry; I’ll make sure you’re well compensated.”

Rona narrowed her eyes, her irritation barely contained as she glared at the boy. “You’re insufferable,” she muttered.

It wasn’t just the way these two played loose with what should and shouldn’t be said. It was that they did it deliberately, fully aware of the boundaries they were crossing. That was one of the reasons Rona never trusted them—she couldn’t afford to. Their strength was undeniable, but she could never entrust her back to them. Unless she were absolutely sure their interests aligned with hers, she would never bring them into a critical operation.

This was why, even now, she had assigned them to the imperial capital operation instead of the one in Limia’s royal capital—so she could keep a close eye on them.

“Gritonia’s hero, Tomoki Iwahashi,” she began, “is particularly adept at wielding anti-army equipment: high-powered weapons, flying dragons for mobility, royal-guard-level defense. And with the help of an alchemist who commands golems to create confusion and provide various buffs, he’s practically designed to keep enemies at a distance and avoid close combat altogether. It may look like brute force, but there’s a solid strategy behind it.”

“I don’t care about your standard textbook assessment,” Sofia interrupted with a flick of her wrist.

“Don’t rush me,” Rona replied, unfazed. “What we learned in this operation is that he has a kind of switch—like I said, a dual nature. Most likely, it’s linked to day and night—or more specifically, whether the sun or the moon is in the sky. I believe he gains some powerful regenerative ability only during the night.”

“Regeneration that only activates at night?” Sofia’s eyes had taken on a predatory gleam.

“Yes. I’d never heard of anything like it, but I’m convinced. That’s why, if we want to corner him, we should do it during the day. At night, it’s better to wait it out or throw him off-balance rather than pressing a direct attack.”

“So he’s stronger at night?”

“That’s right,” Rona confirmed. “Most of his big, risky moves—the ones that leave him open—happen at night. That’s when Gritonia’s hero shows his true colors. Now then, Lancer, what about my compensation?”

“Ah, yes,” Lancer said, a smirk playing on his lips. “Princess Lily is back. Technically, she’s not in the capital itself, but she’s in a town a few stops down the line from Robin. She’s started issuing orders.”

“What?!” A spark of tension shot through Rona’s expression.

“It’s confirmed,” Lancer replied smoothly. “Absolutely reliable information.”

“Tch. She’s moving much faster than I expected. Depending on what happened in Rotsgard, we might have to abandon this position. If that woman is back, we can’t afford to stick around. We’ve achieved our goal here; the rest can be handled from the rear lines. I’ll head for Stella ahead of schedule…”

Lancer’s revelation marked a significant shift in the battlefield’s dynamics. Under normal circumstances, it was the kind of information that should have been shared immediately—without any negotiation.

Once again, Rona was reminded of just how untrustworthy these two really were. They were living proof of the saying “hidden in plain sight,” carrying out Gritonia’s operations while issuing commands from within the imperial capital itself.

She quickly gathered all her documents and set them alight, then turned toward the door. But—

She frowned when she saw that her two visitors weren’t moving to follow.

“What are you doing?” she snapped. “We’re leaving.”

Sofia smiled slyly. “Heh, you’ve given me some very useful information,” she purred. “I suppose I owe you, Mitsurugi.”

“Sofia, you really are…” Lancer sighed, his shoulders slumping in exasperation.

“Rona,” Sofia continued, her voice now cool and decisive, “I’ll do you a little favor. You go ahead—cross the river and get to safety. I’m gonna… play with the hero for a while.”

“Wait—did you even listen to what I just said?!” Rona barked. “That man is unstoppable at night! Right now, he’s using only the weapons that best suit his skills, so even sealing his power with that ring won’t slow him down much. Maybe before it would’ve worked, but now—”

“I’ll keep the telepathic link open for you, so just hush,” Sofia interrupted. “If that boy is really as dangerous as you say, then nothing will stop me now.” She paused, and when she spoke again, it was almost a mutter—a private thought rather than something meant to be heard. “I can’t wait to see whether everyone who deals with the Goddess ends up like him…”

Her voice dripped with bloodlust, the killing intent radiating from her in waves.

Only one other person in the room even understood who “him” might be.

Lancer let out a small sigh, then vanished into the shadows alongside Sofia.

“Hey, wait!” Rona shouted, but they were already gone. “Tch. Such impossible people to handle!” she growled under her breath. “But with Princess Lily returning, it really is too dangerous to stay here. Nothing to do but pull back.”

Her eyes narrowed as she watched the empty room. “Those two… if only they’d die here, I’d have fewer variables to deal with. Honestly…”

With that, Rona stepped out of the building in her true demon form, no longer seeing any reason to hide it.

She turned back one last time, then detonated the building behind her in a single, blinding flash. Then, she activated the teleportation spell she’d prepared, slipping out of the imperial capital entirely.

※※※

“Heh, that’s him. Gritonia’s hero,” Sofia murmured, a gleam in her eyes as she watched from afar. “Whatever else you want to say about him, he’s definitely bold.”

“A flashy attack,” Lancer noted. “And the power behind it is real enough. Looks like the intel was right—he’s significantly stronger at night. Don’t underestimate him, Sofia.”

“Mitsurugi,” Sofia breathed, her grin sharpening, “would I ever do such a thing? Think of this as a rehearsal for killing a demon lord. I’ll give it my all… assuming he’s worthy of it.”

“A demon lord, huh? You’re right, that’s the kind of presence that wouldn’t be out of place here. Given your current strength, you shouldn’t have any trouble keeping up—but don’t forget, he’s still a formidable foe.”

“Exactly,” she said, drawing a thin, gleaming blade from her hip. “Well then—let’s begin.”

It wasn’t the same sword she’d wielded when she’d fought Makoto. While the design and craftsmanship shared specific details—color, material—the weapon itself was entirely different: a smaller, slender one-handed sword rather than the great sword she’d once favored. Naturally, she wielded it with one hand.

Her eyes had already locked onto the hero, who was charging across the battlefield on his Lesser Dragon with his party in tow. To her, the distance between them was laughable—a mere blink of an eye.

A feral smile spread across her face.

“Good grief…”

The boyish figure of Lancer—a Greater Dragon in disguise—sighed as he snapped his fingers.

At his gesture, dozens upon dozens of glowing swords materialized in the sky. They clustered around the hero, slowing the Lesser Dragon’s movements, trapping him in a web of gleaming steel.

Before the swords had even fully formed, Sofia seized Lancer by the nape with her empty left hand and lifted him effortlessly. Almost simultaneously, their figures blurred and vanished from sight.

“Oh, that boy—he’s noticed me,” Sofia remarked, her tone almost playful.

“He’s probably got some sort of detection tool,” Lancer replied. “Some ancient relics have remarkable sensory abilities. But more importantly, I am your partner, remember? Could you not carry me like a kitten?”

The dragon-slaying pair reappeared on the ground, just ahead of the Lesser Dragon. Even though they were still on the ground, their sudden presence drew the eyes of Gritonia’s hero.

Though the battlefield was far from dense with soldiers, it was still a place of chaos and combat. Noticing an unexpected intruder in such a place was no small feat. Yet despite the distance that remained between them, the fact that Sofia and Lancer could perfectly track the hero’s movements marked them as extraordinary beings themselves.

Around the Lesser Dragon, the number of glowing swords suddenly multiplied, a clear move to hinder the enemy’s mobility.

It was a classic foot-dragging tactic, and in that fleeting instant of confusion that crossed the hero’s face, Sofia made her move.

The imperial hero’s party momentarily lost the mobility they’d flaunted until now, thrown into disarray by an unfamiliar technique from an unknown attacker.

In the blink of an eye, Sofia’s presence on the ground vanished, leaving only Mitsurugi behind.

Tap.

With a light step, she landed on the Lesser Dragon’s back.

“Good evening, Imperial Hero,” she greeted him, her voice like velvet.

The hero’s eyes snapped open. “Who are you?!”

Using her ability to swap places with one of the glowing swords, she’d effectively teleported onto the Lesser Dragon’s back. To Tomoki, who knew nothing of her powers, it must have seemed like she’d fallen from the sky.

The hero’s entire body was encased in armor, his appearance radiating confidence and strength—worlds apart from the timid, gentle expression he’d worn back in Japan. Now, he embodied the title the Goddess had bestowed on him, determined and battle-ready.

“Sofia.” She introduced herself with a predatory grin. “Sofia the Dragon Slayer. Surely you’ve heard of me.”

“Dragon Slayer… The Dragon Slayer Sofia?!”

“Oh, I’m so flattered that the imperial hero knows my name.” Her eyes gleamed as she looked him over. “You’re Tomoki Iwahashi, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yeah… What do you want? Did you hear about Gritonia’s crisis and come to help us?”

Sofia laughed—a cold, amused sound—then leaned in.

“Crisis? This isn’t a crisis for Gritonia, is it?”

Tomoki gave a confident smirk. “Well, with Lily away, it’s just me here. But Gritonia won’t fall to an attack from demons like this.”

“How bold,” Sofia murmured, her grin widening. “I think this is going to be fun.”

“Then why are you here now, in the capital?” Tomoki demanded, his tone sharp but curious. “You’re always wandering, right? Even if someone wanted to meet you, they’d have a hard time tracking you down.”

Although the name “Sofia the Dragon Slayer” was known far and wide, she rarely showed her face at the guild. Finding her was nearly impossible. Worse, her noncooperative stance toward guild summons had even sparked rumors that she’d severed ties with the Adventurer’s Guild altogether. A strong woman.

Those words alone made her a figure Tomoki had long hoped to meet—and enlist. Of course, by enlistment, he meant using his charm powers to ensure her loyalty. After all, with a foolproof way to avoid betrayal at his disposal, why wouldn’t he use it?

Sofia grinned dangerously as she answered his question. “Because I’m interested in you.”

“In me?” Tomoki grinned back. “Well, that’s nice to hear. If that’s the case, let me invite you to the castle. We can talk things over there.”

“Oh, I’m not interested in that sort of thing. My interest is—”

“Tomoki-sama! Watch out!”

Before she could finish, a figure lunged forward, sword drawn. It was Guinevere, the member of the royal guard who’d been watching Sofia’s every move.

“What—!”

A high-pitched clash of metal rang out across the Lesser Dragon’s back.

“Impressive reaction,” Sofia said, her tone light but her eyes gleaming. “Tomoki’s a minus, but you, knight, get a plus from me. Yes, that scent… You’ve inherited a dragon’s power, haven’t you? Gront… ‘Sand Wave,’ right?”

Sofia’s face registered delight, like a predator catching the scent of its favorite prey.

“What are you planning, Sofia-dono?” Guinevere demanded, her sword unwavering as she met Sofia’s gaze. “You know full well what it means to point a blade at Hero Tomoki-sama.”

Tomoki’s eyes were wide, his body frozen with shock.

Beside him, the other two members of his party—Mora the Dragon Summoner and Yukinatsu the Force Player and Alchemist—had stiffened in alarm, recognizing that the intruder who’d gotten so close was indeed an enemy.

“Of course I know what it means,” Sofia replied coolly, her lips curling into a teasing smile. “Oh, did I forget to mention? I have another title now—Sofia Bulga, guest general of the demons. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Tomoki the Hero.”

“?!”

“What?!”

“Demon?!”

“Guest general?!”

Tomoki and his party sucked in a collective breath, shock etched across their faces.

“I’ve heard that you’re powerful at night, Hero,” Sofia went on, her voice smooth as silk. “Would you care to dance with me under this beautiful moonlight?”

She gave a mock curtsy, lifting an imaginary skirt as though she were at a grand ball rather than standing in the midst of her enemies. There wasn’t a hint of fear in her eyes, only gleeful anticipation.

“It doesn’t matter who you are…!”

As Tomoki unleashed his charm power at full force, his eyes flared.

Very few had ever resisted this gift of his. Each time he used it, it grew stronger, more potent, bending even the strongest wills to his side.

He’d even begun refining it—secretly enhancing it to work on Limia’s hero and Lorel’s Priestess. Against an unprepared foe, even demons could be brought to heel with a single glance.

But—

“It won’t work on me, Hero,” Sofia said softly, her voice like a knife through velvet. “If you want to charm me, you’d need to capture the heart of a Greater Dragon in an instant.” She smiled, tilting her head playfully. “But you know, there’s a much simpler way.”

“You… you know about my magic eye—”

“Those kinds of cheap tricks are worthless,” she cut in, her voice laced with derision. “If you want me, try beating me with that spear of yours. If you can manage that, I’ll be yours—body and soul—and no magic eyes needed.”

She struck a pose that accentuated her chest and thighs, taunting him as she met his gaze head-on.

Tomoki’s face twisted in fury, his voice rising with frustration at her mocking challenge.

“You might still have the higher level,” he spat, his eyes flashing with anger, “but I’ll show you that fighting isn’t just about numbers!”

“Oh, I couldn’t agree more,” Sofia said, her grin widening. “In that case, let’s start by getting rid of this lizard.”

Her sword flashed like a streak of lightning. Even surrounded by glowing swords, the Lesser Dragon Nagi had been holding its position in the air—until now. A strangled scream tore from its throat.

“Nagi! Y-Your wing! How could you?!”

Mora’s words had barely left her lips before Nagi’s balance gave out. The other wing brushed against one of the glowing blades, and the scent of burning flesh curled through the air.

A second scream split the night as Nagi’s altitude plummeted, the party clinging desperately to its back. Even as the Lesser Dragon shook violently beneath them, Sofia stood rooted to the spot, perfectly balanced.

“Well then,” she said, her voice calm, “I’ll be waiting below. Come with your friends or come alone—it doesn’t matter to me. But know this: The moment you point a blade at me, I don’t care if you’re a child or half-dead—I’ll treat you all the same. Be prepared.”

With that, Sofia leaped from Nagi’s back, an act that would seem suicidal to any ordinary observer.

Unsurprisingly, she navigated the air effortlessly, following a path marked by the glowing swords Lancer had conjured, and landed beside her partner.

“How was he?” Lancer asked, one brow arched. “Worthy of going all out?”

Sofia shook her head, her eyes cold. “Not even close. I didn’t even need to use that on him. No matter how many they bring, I’ll handle them no problem. Actually, it’d be more entertaining if they all came at once. Alone, he might be a bit stronger—but not by much.”

“Hmm. From what I’ve heard, the imperial hero rarely fights alone,” Lancer mused.

“It’s just a feeling I have. Oh, and that Lesser Dragon—it’s got potential. I’d love to make it mine.”

“You just want more toys, is that it? Do as you please. I think Akari is enough of a flying dragon on its own.”

Even Lancer, who’d grown used to Sofia’s unpredictability, was taken aback by her casual appraisal of the enemy’s mount. Although he’d mentioned Akari, another Greater Dragon, his tone didn’t reveal his full thoughts on the matter.

“They’re not the same kind of tool,” Sofia said, almost offhandedly. Then her eyes narrowed. “Ah, they’re coming,” she added, pointing to where Tomoki and his group were approaching in the distance. “The Lesser Dragon’s down, so I’ll have to track it later. What a nuisance.”

Nagi was nowhere to be seen, but Sofia guessed the creature must have crash-landed somewhere and was lying low.

The middle of the battlefield probably wasn’t the safest place to chat. No demons were currently targeting them, but stray attacks from either side were a constant risk. The hyumans were equally desperate to repel the demons, so neither side would necessarily hold back just because Lancer and Sofia were standing around.

In fact, a few panicked soldiers had already tried to attack the pair—but all were neatly dispatched by Lancer’s countless floating swords. A halo of blood marked the circle of safety he’d carved, leaving the pair free to continue their casual conversation.

“You don’t care about hyumans or demons, huh? You’re insane,” Tomoki spat as he finally reached their circle, his face twisted in disgust.

“Oh, we’re just making sure to greet everyone equally,” Sofia replied with a smile. “Now, shall we begin? If you lose, both the imperial capital and Gritonia will be in deep trouble. Give it your best shot.”

“I’m a hero with the Goddess’s blessing, you know. Don’t think you can walk all over me just because you’re a dragon slayer!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of holding back,” she assured him. “Let me test my strength!”

Sofia’s hand flew to her sword, and she lunged at the spot where Tomoki and Guinevere were braced for combat. Her blade flashed in the moonlight—only to slice through her targets without resistance.

“…?”

Sofia’s eyes narrowed as she watched the two figures collapse like discarded dolls.

“Got you! Mud Doll Bind—Mad Trump!” The voice rang out from the rear, filled with triumph.

It was Yukinatsu, the master alchemist known for her mastery of golems.

As Sofia watched, Tomoki, Guinevere, and the other two figures melted into sludge, twisting like tentacles as they lashed toward her.

“Heh. I didn’t even notice the difference,” Sofia murmured, impressed. “That’s quite a spell.”

“The consciousness can be projected from the real bodies—it’s pretty sophisticated, right? And let me tell you, breaking that Mud Doll Bind won’t be easy!” Yukinatsu’s voice carried a note of triumph.

“Oh? It doesn’t feel like such a strong material, but—?!”

Sofia tested her bonds by moving her arms, only to watch the restraints harden before her eyes, transforming into a black, gleaming mineral.

“So that was just a distraction to buy time for the transformation,” she mused, her voice almost admiring. “But it looks like you didn’t really need it. It’s hardened nicely,” she added with a grin, even as her limbs were bound tight. “Well thought out.”

“Still putting on a brave face?” Yukinatsu’s voice crackled from a distance, equal parts triumph and challenge. “Let’s see how long that lasts once we rain everything we’ve got on you. Tomoki-sama!”

“Well done, Yukinatsu!” Tomoki called back, his confidence surging. “Guinevere, stay on defense just in case. Mora, hit her with me—hard enough to take her out, but don’t kill her!”

“You’ll pay for what you did to Nagi!” Mora screamed, fury boiling in her eyes.

“Don’t hold back,” Sofia said, her smile never wavering. “Come at me with everything you’ve got. And you, little miss—better fight like your life depends on it. You might not get to see that Lesser Dragon again.”

“A woman like you—so cocky. Fine, have it your way!” Tomoki growled.

“Die!” Mora shrieked, and in unison with her, Tomoki’s arsenal of weapons ignited.

Five weapons moved as one, a symphony of destruction orchestrated by Tomoki himself—no goddess’s blessing this time, just pure skill and affinity.

A short sword named Gladius. A thrusting spear called Archepiece. A slender rapier. And a handgun—all weapons that formed the core of his current combat style. In addition to these, he reached for the divine two-handed spear he’d once wielded at Stella Fortress, receiving it from Guinevere with a practiced hand.

Now, it served as his sub-weapon.

Gun in his left hand, divine spear in his right, the remaining three weapons floated around him like deadly satellites, each one radiating lethal power.

Each weapon could unleash high-powered attacks, aligned to its own elemental attribute.

The handgun in his left hand radiated a brilliant light, a weapon that had once been sealed in a secure vault in a city under Gritonia’s control—until the princess herself had gifted it to Tomoki.

Princess Lily had once thought this gun might aid in developing firearms—part of her broader research into military technology—but in the end, it was just a magic tool designed solely to fire magical energy. Its external shape may have looked similar to a powder weapon, but its internal workings were utterly different, making it useless as a model for conventional development.

Still, as a hero’s personal artifact, it had more than earned its keep.

Tomoki’s five weapons—and Mora’s own spell—rained down on Sofia in a single, synchronized strike.

A roar split the air, followed by an earthshaking explosion. An attack that, aimed at an enemy army, would have slaughtered nearly a thousand soldiers in an instant. Its residual force alone was devastating.

It had been unleashed at point-blank range and focused on a single target. Had Guinevere’s defensive barriers not been in place, even Tomoki’s own party would have suffered casualties. Only because Guinevere had inherited the mighty defense of Sazanami, a Greater Dragon, was she able to hold the shield line by herself.

“Heh. If she survives, maybe I’ll take her back with us—and add her to my harem,” Tomoki sneered, sure of his victory.

“Oniii-chan!” Mora cried. “She’s the one who did that to Nagi! I won’t accept it!”

“I’m with you, Tomoki-sama,” Guinevere added gravely. “She has too many dangerous ideas in that head of hers.”

Yukinatsu alone seemed uncertain, her expression clouded with unease. “Even if you do, you’d better ask Princess Lily first,” she cautioned.

“Hey, what are you all dawdling for? You’re fighting Sofia here! Keep the pressure on her!” The voice rang out from the smoky haze, sharp and unshaken.

It was the boy who’d been standing behind Sofia earlier—Lancer, his voice calm yet commanding, his tone belying his youthful appearance. He, too, should have been caught in that onslaught. By all rights, he and Sofia should have been obliterated.

Tomoki stared at the clearing smoke as though seeing a ghost, ignoring the order to keep up the attack.

“No way…”

“It can’t be…”

“I know that was a direct hit!”

Their disbelief echoed from every corner.

“It was incredible,” Sofia said, emerging from the dust cloud with a wicked smile. “Oh, that binding spell—shattered to pieces.”

She twirled her sword as if loosening up before a fight.

“And mixing all those elements so they didn’t interfere with each other—truly artistic. The coordination with that girl was perfect too. I used to think your charm powers made you sloppy, but apparently you can coordinate properly when you need to.”

She rolled her shoulders like an athlete stretching for a match, her predatory grin widening.

“But,” she continued, “it wasn’t enough to make a lake, you know? I’ve had plenty of experience with attacks like that. We’re both well prepared for them.”

The same feral gleam she’d worn atop the Lesser Dragon now burned in her eyes. Her motions stilled, her body coiled like a spring. She raised her slender sword and pointed it straight at Tomoki.

“But, you know…” she whispered. Her smile stretched across her face like a slash of moonlight. Tomoki’s own expression tightened in response, an involuntary twitch of dread. “I just remembered something. I thought I’d only need to use half my strength—but if you can manage that, maybe I’ll bump it up a little, hmm?”

Sofia’s form blurred—no, it didn’t disappear. She was simply too fast for the hyuman eye to follow.

Somehow, Guinevere reacted.

She met Sofia’s strike head-on, fulfilling her duty as Tomoki’s shield.

“Come on, Tomoki!” Sofia exclaimed. “Show me what a hero can do! Don’t think you’ll get by with a warm-up!!!”

※※※

“Well, that’s that.”

Lancer surveyed the battlefield, nodding to himself. “I cleaned everything up around here. Even after all that hunting, I only managed to gain two new swords. Pathetic. I suppose level alone doesn’t make one a hero.”

His eyes turned to where Sofia had been rampaging.

It was quiet now—and that was Lancer’s doing. While Sofia engaged the hero in earnest combat, Lancer had systematically slaughtered anyone in sight. This was partly to eliminate witnesses but mostly a way to test the strength he’d finally regained.

Once, Sofia had nearly killed him. Even when he fought the “Wicked One,” Makoto, his power had only been halfway restored. It had taken almost half a year for Lancer to fully reclaim his strength as a Greater Dragon.

Now, at last, he felt complete again. A satisfied grin crossed his lips as he called out to Sofia.

“Sofia! What will you do with them? Killing the hero would earn you favor with the Demon Lord. Might be worth it, no?”

Sofia stood over four fallen foes, her eyes cold. Miraculously, not one of them was dead.

No, that was no miracle; it was because Sofia herself had chosen not to kill them.

“So not everyone’s as ridiculous as that one, huh?” she muttered. “Setting me on fire with that half-baked spark… Hey! You’re a hero, aren’t you? Don’t you have more tricks up your sleeve? Get up! Fight me!”

She lashed out with her sword, striking Tomoki’s limp form.

Even collapsed on the ground, she showed no mercy—slicing his belly, chest, arms, legs, neck, and head. Each cut made him convulse, but there was no other response.

“Well, well. Looks like he can’t hear you anymore,” Lancer said with a sigh, shaking his head.

Even though Tomoki’s body healed instantly every time Sofia’s blade cut into him, leaving it perfectly intact, the scene was nearly unbearable to watch.

Guinevere, who should have been his shield, lay a short distance away, her body broken and battered. Had she been conscious, perhaps she would have defied fate itself to crawl to Tomoki’s side. But now, all she could do was spasm involuntarily, her eyes wide and glassy, unblinking even as blood trickled into them.

The wounds on her body were horrific, but it was the gaping hole in her side that bled the most—an injury that left her on the brink of death.

Mora and Yukinatsu were in no better shape. In fact, with their weaker defenses, they’d fared even worse.

Mora’s legs had been severed at the knees, her right hand shredded to ribbons. She sprawled in the dirt like a supplicant, too broken to stand. Yukinatsu had been pinned to the ground by glowing swords driven through all four limbs, her entire body drenched in blood, unmoving.

Yet all three of them still clung to life.

Their injuries were beyond severe, but given the imperial capital’s wealth of skilled healers, they might still be saved—if they could get out of here alive—a slim chance, but still a chance.

Then, amid the carnage and the incessant cries of pain, Tomoki let out a scream and lurched to his feet. It was the impossible resilience unique to him—the same as the source of the night-only immortality that let his wounds heal in an instant.

Sofia made no move to chase him down. She simply stood in front of him, watching him rise, her eyes locked on his trembling form.

Her face was drawn and exhausted. And no wonder.

The night made Tomoki’s body invincible, incapable of defeat. But that didn’t mean he felt no pain. Even with the Silver Boots the Goddess had bestowed upon him—shoes that erased his fatigue—his mind couldn’t be shielded from the trauma.

Tomoki had blocked out the pain of each cut, but the relentless mental agony of being endlessly slashed by Sofia’s blade was too much to bear.

A moment of ruthless regeneration—a sight so horrific that any onlooker would think death itself would be preferable. Even if he felt no pain, for Tomoki’s mind to remain intact through this endless cycle of butchery was inhuman. If he still had his sanity after all this, then surely his heart had twisted into something beyond hyuman—abnormally resilient, unbreakable against things no one should have to endure.

“Oh, I’m so happy,” Sofia crooned, her eyes glinting as she regarded his trembling form. “Still got something left in you, do you? Come on, Tomoki-kun.”

“You… monster,” Tomoki rasped, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. “How can you keep cutting down someone who’s not even fighting back?”

Though his body sagged with exhaustion, the stubborn will that had burned in him when he’d ridden Nagi’s back still glimmered in his eyes. Sofia met his gaze, a flicker of admiration in her eyes.

“Because I didn’t think you were really helpless,” she said lightly, voice smooth and cold. “Unlike those girls, you could still move. You just chose to pretend. I thought maybe you still had something up your sleeve.” She tilted her head, the grin widening. “Oh, and by the way—calling a young woman a monster? That’s a bit rude, don’t you think?”

“Like I’d take a lecture from a hyuman who sides with the demons,” Tomoki spat, though inside he cursed himself.

She’d seen straight through his plan. If only Lily had been here, he thought, she might have found a way to tip the battle in their favor. But even as the thought formed, he shook his head, bitter reality sinking in. There was no way they could defeat this monster.

He’d confirmed that his three allies were still alive, and his only hope had been to feign defeat—let Sofia’s focus shift to something else, just long enough for a chance to slip away. But Sofia hadn’t given him that mercy. She’d kept on, tormenting him with sadistic precision, the dance of her blade relentless. Tomoki’s heart pounded with rising panic as he watched his comrades’ lives slip through his fingers.

He’d been relying on a special item to monitor his party’s condition, tracking every heartbeat, every faltering breath. It was that knowledge that had given him the strength to endure this long, waiting for an opportunity to act. But with Sofia’s unwavering aggression, that chance was rapidly vanishing. As long as she kept coming, the moment of collapse would come—and now, that precipice loomed before him.

“Tomoki-kun,” Sofia prodded him. “Show me. The power that only a hero can wield. Don’t tell me you’re already out of tricks. Your eyes—they haven’t given up yet.”

“Don’t screw with me!!!” Tomoki roared, voice raw with fury.

Sofia’s words cut deep—because she was right. He still had a trump card, but it wasn’t one he could use right now. That knowledge only made his frustration boil hotter, leaving him powerless, no weapon raised, no spell prepared—just curses spilling from his lips.

“Damn it, damn it, damn iiit!!!”

Sofia’s eyes glimmered with amusement. “Hmmm… so there’s some condition, is there? Ah, so it’s those girls—are they the chain that’s holding you back?” She nodded as if confirming a theory, the glint of satisfaction in her eyes unmistakable.

“What… did you say?”

“Well then, should I kill the girls first? Or maybe—should I make you beg for help?” Sofia laughed, her voice dripping with cruel delight.

Lancer, having drifted close enough to hear, sighed in exasperation. “Ah, there she goes again,” he muttered, recognizing that particular glint in Sofia’s eyes.

Tomoki’s face twisted with desperation and rage. “If they die—then even if I die too—I’ll never show you my final card. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Fine. Send my comrades to the imperial capital. You people can do that, can’t you?”

“Oh, half correct,” Sofia replied with a bright, mocking smile. “I’d be in trouble if you didn’t show me your power, after all. It’s a shame you won’t just ask for help outright, but—fine, I’ll grant your wish.”

She turned to Lancer. “Very well. I’ll toss those half-dead fools right into the capital.”

“In front of the castle,” Tomoki insisted, his voice a growl.

“So many demands,” Lancer scoffed. “Is that what gives you heroes your gall?”

“Call it what you want,” Tomoki spat, his eyes wild with defiance.

Lancer’s lips curled into a cold smirk as he took in the hero’s crazed glare, then he vanished, off to fulfill Sofia’s request and transport the three wounded to the gates of the imperial castle.

Sofia’s eyes gleamed as she turned back to Tomoki. “A promise is a promise. Now, show me—the true power of the Goddess’s blessing!”

“Too bad for you,” Tomoki hissed.

Tomoki’s quiet voice made Sofia’s expression harden for a brief moment. “What… did you say?”

“What I’m about to show you,” Tomoki said, his voice low and cold, “isn’t the Goddess’s blessing. It’s an ultra-rare power—something only a handful of those who’ve crossed worlds can wield. Not even Hibiki can use it.”

He threw the same contempt Lancer had given him back at Sofia, his eyes burning.

“Hibiki… the hero from Limia, right?” Sofia mused, tilting her head. “So, even among heroes from other worlds, there’s a ranking system? How fascinating. But it doesn’t matter to me either way. Show me!”

“Fine. Get ready to feel it. The searing humiliation of the light that burned my homeland to ashes. I’ll recreate that horror here—and you brought this on yourself, so prepare to pay!”

“How dramatic. Is the Wicked One a visitor from another world, or are those who crossed worlds all Wicked Ones at heart? I don’t care either way—if you can show me the truth.”

Tomoki thrust both hands forward, beginning a harsh chant in a language Sofia had never heard. She watched in silence, though her sword remained at the ready. She’d already deployed every defensive measure she had, determined to withstand whatever attack he unleashed.

Light began to gather at Tomoki’s outstretched hands—a searing, blinding orb that was impossible to look at directly. It devoured not just magic but his very life force, growing darker and more menacing as its glow intensified. Sofia’s lips bent into a savage smile as she saw it. She could feel the power radiating from that sphere—a power even greater than the attack that had nearly killed her once before.

Tomoki’s voice rose in a final cry, the name of the spell roaring from his throat.

And then—

With a sound like the night itself shattering, the orb exploded, expanding outward in a dome of light that tore through the darkness.

※※※

A massive crater had formed on the battlefield just outside the imperial capital. The blast had leveled every nearby tree and blade of grass, leaving behind a scene of utter devastation—a wasteland so eerily still that not a single creature stirred.

Though the destruction hadn’t reached the capital itself, Tomoki’s final strike had left scars far worse than the lake Makoto had created months before.

This time, however, the circumstances—and the outcome—were different.

At the heart of the blast zone, a lone man lay unconscious and unmoving. And beside him stood a woman, her sword sheathed at her hip and her body enveloped in a faint blue glow.

“Well, that was quite the ferocious final move,” Lancer remarked, landing lightly on the crater’s edge. Wherever he’d taken cover during the blast, he was now gazing at Sofia standing in the center of the ruin, the fallen hero at her feet.

“Mitsurugi,” Sofia replied, her voice calm but edged with reflection. “Yes—it was even more vicious than the Wicked One’s arrow from that time. If we’d taken this hit back then, we’d have died, no question.”

“Ho, to hear you say that—he truly was a hero then.”

“Hero…” Sofia echoed, her eyes distant. “No, maybe not. Perhaps it was Tomoki-kun’s own stubborn pride.”

“Tomoki-kun, is it? Don’t tell me he’s charmed you too?”

“Hardly. This technique—if you can even call it that—was an incredibly potent fire-attribute power.”

“Fire, huh?”

“And it’s a dangerous one,” Sofia continued. “It drains a portion of the user’s life force with every use. But you know, I think the real terror isn’t even that.”

Lancer’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

Sofia smiled darkly. “It’s not just you. Even those who took the blast head-on and survived, or were lucky enough to be outside the immediate range and avoided the direct hit, they’ve all been marked. A special toxin or curse—it clings to them.”

“?!”

Sofia let out a low, amused laugh. “It’s hardly a heroic power. Poisonous flames, perhaps? Come on, Mitsurugi. Let’s heal you.”

“So I’ve been marked by it too, huh? Sorry—do your thing.”

Lancer let out a breath, still shocked by the details of Tomoki’s final attack, but stepped closer to Sofia. Even if he’d never heard of such a toxin or curse, he trusted Sofia enough to take her word for it. He obediently let the blue light she radiated wash over him.

“Hm, this is taking a while. Is it that strong?”

“Yeah. I haven’t fully neutralized it yet,” she admitted with a wry smile. “When I checked myself, I found it embedded deep inside. It’s a nasty one.”

“So far, I haven’t noticed any symptoms. Doesn’t look like anything’s wrong either…”

“It’s subtle but deadly,” Sofia explained, her voice grim. “It’s a curse that slowly eats away at your life and twists your very core. Doesn’t matter if you’re friend or foe—he only excluded himself from its effect. A delightful power. Tomoki-kun called it… nukes, I think.”

“Friend or foe alike, huh? Sounds like something right up your alley,” Lancer chuckled, though his eyes were cold. “So that’s Tomoki-kun for you. I was worried you’d be upset about the Lesser Dragon getting caught in the blast, but I guess I didn’t need to be.”

“The Lesser Dragon? A shame, but I got to see something valuable today, so I’m satisfied. Now then… I’ll reestablish the telepathic link. Oh, Mitsurugi—leave the hero over there alone, will you? He’s interesting enough that I’m not going to kill him just yet.”

“Just yet, huh? With that confidence of yours, I doubt he’ll be any trouble. I’ve got no problem with that.”

Sofia closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening the telepathic link. “Rona, can you hear me?”

“I felt an incredible surge of magic! The link went dead, and I haven’t heard from any of the units—what the hell is going on over there?!”

Sofia laughed softly at the panic in Rona’s voice, then began explaining the situation—though, of course, she was careful to gloss over a few details.

“I was fighting Tomoki-kun, and he pulled out his trump card. That surge of magic? That was his final move. It was insane. I couldn’t even think about what was happening with the other units. Oh, and that night recovery ability? Completely true. If I had to refine that description, I’d say it’s more like immortality than healing.”

“A trump card?! What was it like?” Rona’s voice crackled with urgency at Sofia’s report.

“It seemed like a massively wide-range fire-attribute spell—super wide range and super powerful. It’s bad news when range and power line up like that.”

“That’s so unfair. So the concept of spell basics means nothing to a hero, huh? And the hero—did you kill him?”

Sofia lowered her gaze to the unconscious Tomoki at her feet. His chest rose and fell steadily, proof that he was still alive.

“Unfortunately, he escaped. Sorry about that,” Sofia replied.

“I see. Still, if you forced out his trump card, that’s enough. Good work.”

“You can get a rough idea of the range by checking the crater later. Even outside the main blast zone, there’s significant damage. That should give you the ballpark.”

“Thanks. I’ll send a team right away. Could you head back to Stella?”

“Yes, I’m pretty exhausted myself. I need to—”

Sofia’s telepathic message cut off abruptly: It wasn’t interference—she’d simply trailed off.

“Sofia?” Rona’s brow furrowed as she tried to prompt her again. No response.

“Mitsurugi, you saw that, didn’t you?”

“Mitsurugi, you saw that, didn’t you?”

Sofia’s voice overlapped with her spoken words, a rare slip in her usual seamless control between telepathy and speech. Normally, she would have severed the telepathic link before speaking aloud. Such a mistake was unlike her.

Rona started to respond but stopped herself, realizing Sofia might let slip some critical detail if the link remained open. She held her breath, waiting.

“Yes,” Lancer said, his eyes fixed on the sky in the same direction as Sofia’s. “I saw it.”

A ribbon of golden light had streaked across the sky, its brilliance fading as it descended toward Limia. It wasn’t quite the same as what they’d seen before—but the bitter memories it stirred left no doubt.

“That was him,” Sofia murmured, her eyes gleaming. “Given the current situation, that was Limia’s capital. And with your power fully restored, you can fly there, can’t you, Mitsurugi?”

“That was him. Given the current situation, that was Limia’s capital. And with your power fully restored, you can fly there, can’t you, Mitsurugi?”

“Yeah,” Lancer answered with a grin. “I could be there in less than half an hour. The protector of the hyumans, swooping in when they’re in trouble again—he never changes, does he?”

“Maybe,” Sofia replied, her tone cool. “But… this is the perfect chance to kill him before he fulfills that destiny.”

“Maybe. But… this is the perfect chance to kill him before he fulfills that destiny.”

Rona still couldn’t piece together exactly what they were talking about. Still, from what she’d overheard, it was clear that something unpredictable had now entered the plan unfolding in Limia’s capital.

“That’s right,” Lancer agreed, his voice hardening. “Sofia, let’s go. We’ll finish him.”

“Wait for me, Wicked One,” Sofia promised. “Today, I’m going to wipe you out once and for all.”

“Wait for me, Wicked One. Today, I’m going to wipe you out once and for all.”

Rona nearly cried out in frustration but managed to choke it back, severing the telepathic link before Sofia could reveal any more.

Unbelievable.

The most significant wildcard of all—appearing not in Rotsgard or the imperial capital but in the one place she’d hoped to secure beyond any doubt: the royal capital itself.

Now, back in Stella Fortress, Rona buried her face in her hands.

Reports were supposed to come in constantly from the capital by telepathic link. None had arrived yet, but it wouldn’t be long before detailed information poured in.

The demon general forced herself to consider the silver linings as she waited.

“If those two monsters are keeping the Wicked One occupied, then our top priority—killing Hibiki—should still be perfectly achievable. Plus, I’ve arranged for immediate contact with Io’s forces. So—”

Even if Io himself wasn’t the best at telepathic communication, there were undoubtedly others in his unit who could manage it. The time lag would be minimal; the situation in the capital would soon be clear.

“Rona-sama.”

It had arrived!

Rona summoned every ounce of focus she had for this moment.

“You can start your report.”

“Yes! At this moment, the operation to eliminate the hero in the royal capital is underway. Io-sama has engaged Hibiki, and we are currently in a favorable position.”

“…”

It was good news. If the battle had already begun—and Io was leading the charge—Rona felt confident there’d be no mistakes. She waited patiently for the rest.

“Our losses are significant, but we are holding our own against the capital’s forces. However—”

The voice hesitated.

“Go on.”

“Right. We’ve observed a mysterious light striking the royal castle. According to Io-sama’s aide, it’s unclear if it’s golden light or something more like darkness—but something came out from it, an intruder!”

“How many? Names? Have they declared any affiliations or intentions?”

“Reports indicate two figures—one with an exceptionally high magical signature, identified as a lich, and another, a pure white hyumanoid. Nothing else is known.”

“A hyumanoid? Not a hyuman?”

Rona’s frustration flared at the vague report. The mention of a lich tugged at the edges of her memory, but the real concern was the hyumanoid presence. If Sofia’s earlier words were to be believed, this could very well be the Wicked One—the scenario she’d feared most.

“We don’t know. We’d help if we could, but resistance is fierce, and we can’t break the stalemate.”

“Damn it… All right, got it. Good work. Keep supporting General Io’s unit,” Rona instructed.

“Yes, ma’am! We’ll give it everything we’ve got!”

With that, the telepathic link finally ended.

A lich—and a white hyumanoid figure. Was it the Wicked One? Or something else entirely? More than that—were they friend or foe?

Rona rose from her seat, determination hardening her features. Now was not the time to be reinforcing Stella Fortress.

Having concluded the imperial campaign and simply awaiting Io’s success, she had to act. She gave swift orders to the few soldiers left behind, then immediately began teleporting toward the royal capital.

There was no time to worry about the fatigue of redeployment.

For her—and for the entire demon army—the outcome of this operation would decide everything.

Chapter 3

The surprise invasion of the royal capital by the demon army had begun.

Standing in the center of the action was the Kingdom of Limia’s hero, Hibiki Otonashi. Despite the sharp pangs of anxiety and dread tightening her chest, she held her head high, forcing herself to project strength.

Since Limia’s capital bordered demon territory, it had always existed under the threat of invasion. Several times, Hibiki had proposed relocating the capital—or at the very least, its key functions—somewhere safer. But her calls had been met with stubborn resistance from the nobles, who clung to history and tradition like old, threadbare clothes. And so, inevitably, this day had come.

During the recent Stella Fortress campaign, the capital had narrowly escaped becoming a battlefield itself. And yet even from that close call, the city had learned nothing.

This is war, Hibiki thought bitterly. If we lose, if this city and castle are burned to the ground, then what meaning would all that history even have?

It wasn’t as if Hibiki truly understood war firsthand. She was, after all, just an ordinary girl summoned from peaceful Japan. Compared to the soldiers and nobles of this world, she knew nothing of its true horrors.

Yet even now, even as their forces struggled to hold the line, the air of superiority toward the demons refused to die. Especially among the higher ranks of nobles and the upper echelons of Limia’s leadership, there was a deep-seated, baseless optimism. The demons were so inferior, their thinking went, that they couldn’t possibly defeat Limia.

That arrogance made Hibiki’s stomach twist with frustration.

Yes, thanks to the king and a handful of more progressive nobles, awareness of the demon threat was slowly spreading. A critical view of the old ways had finally started to take root.

It was too little, too late.

No matter how much progress had been made, if they didn’t move quickly enough, it would all be meaningless.

“Hibiki!”

The urgent voice snapped her back to the present. It was Belda, the knight who’d fought by her side since the beginning.

“They’ve reached the castle gates! They’re serious about taking the castle this time—every last one of them!”

At that moment, there was no king in the capital who could issue absolute commands.

He’d left to attend the yearly festival at the Academy City of Rotsgard.

Ordinarily, the king wouldn’t be expected to personally attend a festival, especially when troops were deployed to reclaim Stella Fortress. But this year, the situation was different: Word had reached them that Princess Lily of the Gritonia Empire would be attending the festival.

Limia and Gritonia were allies on the front lines against the demon army, yet they were also rivals. For a figure with as much influence as Lily—reportedly one of the most important players in Gritonia’s hero operations—to make such an inexplicable move couldn’t be ignored by Limia. After a good deal of deliberation, the king himself had decided to go, partly to keep a diplomatic eye on things.

Hibiki could have gone in his place, but given her direct involvement in the Stella campaign, it was deemed unnecessary. After all, the Limians were the ones attacking the fortress.

The demons had holed up behind thick defenses, and everyone assumed that the hyumans—Limian and Gritonian alike—could dictate the timing of the assault. They decided it could wait until after the festival.

Now, look what that got us—a demon invasion. I never even imagined this possibility—but the worst part is how we handed them the opportunity ourselves, bickering among hyumans and leaving the door wide open.

Somehow, the demon army had slipped past Limia’s front lines and appeared at the shores of Star Lake.

It was an unthinkable move.

Star Lake—created recently by a mysterious force known only as the Wicked One—wasn’t far from the capital. The lake had appeared in the aftermath of a devastating blow that had swept up both hyuman and demon forces, its origins still shrouded in mystery.

Ironically, that same attack had prevented the demons’ initial attempt at a surprise assault on the capital. A bitter lesson, Hibiki thought, remembering the devastation.

Star Lake was practically on their doorstep; the march from there to the capital would only take a few hours, give or take.

That such a surprise attack could succeed not in some border town but right here, in the royal capital, left Hibiki stunned.

Limia was, in a sense, on a full war footing, poised to launch an assault on Stella Fortress within days. It wasn’t as if the troops had let their guard down. On the contrary, they’d poured considerable effort into strengthening their defenses.

And yet, the demon forces had breached them with shocking ease.

The enemy’s mastery of telepathic communication had already impressed Hibiki, but this incident made her realize that their technological edge went far beyond that. It might not even be an exaggeration to say that demons had surpassed hyumans in every relevant field.

Limia had, of course, tried to improve its own telepathic capabilities. Yet despite countless hours of research, spread across a variety of ambitious initiatives, they hadn’t seen meaningful results.

Even if hyumans hold the advantage in numbers and raw potential, Hibiki thought, if the gap in technology is really this large…

Her mind drifted deeper into analyzing the harsh realities of their current battlefield.

A male voice pulled Hibiki back to the present. “Adventurers have secured a retreat path. Hibiki-sama, Belda-dono, Chiya, hurry over there.”

This was Woody, the court mage. No mage in Limia, and few in the world, could match his talent, knowledge, or reputation as a researcher.

“Retreat?” Hibiki’s voice trembled with disbelief. “Retreat—now, in this situation?”

“Hibiki-sama, please understand.” Woody’s tone was steady and firm. “The enemy’s movements are too swift. We need to withdraw from the capital, consolidate our forces from around this region, and Stella. Then we need to surround and retake the capital. That’s the best course of action.”

“Wait. Woody, you would seriously hand over the capital—a city steeped in centuries of history—to the demons, even for a moment?”

“Hibiki-sama, you can’t be serious,” Woody shot back, unflinching. “The king’s not around. Those fools who won’t stop talking about history and tradition have already turned tail and run. Right now, in this castle, we hold the most authority. Anyone who’s still arguing about this, we’ll silence them with results. Defending this place now is nothing but suicide.”

It was the sort of bold statement that could get even Woody into trouble if it reached the wrong ears. But he didn’t so much as blink as he said it.

“That’s why I said we should at least relocate Limia’s administrative functions to somewhere like the Hopleys territory,” Hibiki muttered, frustration weighing heavily on her voice. “But even when it’s a move that would benefit the high nobles, all they do is drag each other down. It’s exhausting.”

“Ilumgand was quite enthusiastic about it,” Woody offered.

“Ilum-kun, huh?” A small, fond smile flickered across Hibiki’s face. “Something’s happening in the academy city where he is, too… I heard the king and his retinue already know about this emergency, but we’d be the last ones to find out, which is infuriating. Times like this really make me feel how inconvenient telepathic communication is. I’m not asking for a smartphone, but at least give me a basic cell phone that can make calls!”

“Cell phones… Yes, well,” Woody replied with a wry smile. “Our technology simply isn’t at the level of your homeland, Hibiki-sama. For now, all we can do is pray everyone’s safe.”

In this castle, we hold the most authority… Hibiki turned Woody’s words over in her mind.

It was obvious that he meant Belda.

Woody probably thought Belda’s secret was safe, but Hibiki already knew that he was the prince of this country. It was never the sort of thing that could be fully concealed, anyway.

She hadn’t pressed him on it. Belda was an invaluable ally—and besides, she understood that his presence allowed them more leeway in their decisions. Prying, she’d decided long ago, would only cause unnecessary complications.

“You’re right—sorry,” she sighed. “So, Woody. What are our chances?”

Woody looked around at everyone in the room before giving a deep nod.

“Quite good,” he replied calmly. “It’s hard to say whether it’s because they rushed the attack for the element of surprise or because they reached the limit of what they could conceal, but at the very least, their numbers aren’t enough to totally control the capital—besides, the royal capital’s our home turf. We know every hidden passage and every escape route. Once we regroup, we’ll be able to wipe them out, no question.”

“That makes sense,” Belda agreed, nodding. “They just charged into the castle head-on without thinking. It’d be smarter to slip past them and surround them later—keep our casualties down. No point getting dragged into their suicide attack.”

See, this is why we need Belda with us, Hibiki thought. She could feel herself growing calmer as he spoke.

“That’s exactly it, Belda-dono,” Woody went on. “Once they switch to defending the castle, they won’t be able to maneuver like they did before. In that sense, the king being away actually works to our advantage. All we have to do now is get Hibiki-sama and the rest of us—”

“Um, excuse me…”

The hesitant voice came from Chiya—the youngest member of the group.

A shrine maiden from the Lorel Federation, she’d chosen to follow Hibiki out of admiration. Though her presence had caused some diplomatic friction between Limia and Lorel, she was an extremely skilled priestess who often supported the party through healing, buffs, and, even occasionally, lending offensive firepower.

“What’s that, Chiya-chan?” Hibiki prompted gently.

Chiya hesitated, glancing between them. “If… If we run away, what will happen to the people in the city?”

Silence fell over the room. They all knew the answer—but no one wanted to say it out loud.

The truth was that those left behind would suffer a fate too grim to contemplate.

“Chiya-chan. Listen to me carefully,” Hibiki began, her voice slow and steady. Perhaps she was convincing herself as much as Chiya. “Limia—this city, this kingdom—can never fall into the demons’ hands. We’ve already lost so many lives to keep that from happening. We have to carry the hopes of those who have given their lives—and running away from that responsibility isn’t an option.”

“…”

“We will win this war. We’ll stop the demons and bring peace to this land. And to do that, we have to survive, no matter how painful it is.”

“Is… is that about Navarre-oneechan, too?” Chiya asked.

“Yeah. That’s part of it too. So—”

“Hibiki! Are you still here? You are—thank god!”

Hibiki’s attempt to comfort Chiya was abruptly cut off by the arrival of a man bursting breathlessly into the room. This was the leader of the high-level adventurers who had joined Hibiki’s cause during her stay in Tsige that summer, drawn by her determination to fight the demon army alongside Limia.

“Sorry, Woody,” he said, turning first to the court mage. “We’ve got a problem with the evacuation route. I’ve lost contact with the guys I sent ahead. I came here myself to make sure everyone’s okay.”

Woody’s expression darkened at the adventurer’s report. “What about evacuating the residents?” he asked. “How’s that going?”

Even though all he’d done was relay Hibiki’s request, Woody had a personal stake in the answer: His own family was among the evacuees. Even so, he’d managed not to ask about his wife and child directly—he still possessed that much self-restraint.

The newcomer’s face twisted with frustration. “It’s tough. I’d say maybe a third have gotten out… tops. Fires are breaking out everywhere, and everyone is panicked. I’ve still got a few guys trying to keep people moving, but even then, we’re probably looking at half at best. The only silver lining is…” He hesitated then continued, “… the demon soldiers’ discipline.”

“Discipline? The demons’ discipline is a silver lining?” Hibiki stared at the man as if he’d just claimed that cows laid eggs.

“Yeah. See, the ones attacking the capital—there’s a fair number of orcs and goblins in their ranks.”

The disgust in his tone as he spoke the words “orcs” and “goblins” was unmistakable—and completely normal.

These creatures, often pressed into service by higher-tier demons or those with special powers, were known for their vile, animalistic behavior. Even people who balked at killing monsters usually had no qualms about butchering orcs or goblins.

“Yeah, that’s what I’d expect,” Hibiki said grimly.

“But here in the capital,” the man went on, “so far I haven’t seen a single case of looting—or women being raped.”

“None?!”

Hibiki had seen firsthand the way orcs and goblins indulged their every depraved whim, and she’d slain countless of them herself. She knew all too well what they could be like.

“Yeah, that’s right,” the messenger confirmed, his expression grim. “Even those bastards are moving like a well-oiled machine—ignoring everything that’s not in their way, just charging straight for the castle.”

“…”

“I know; I’m shocked too. From an evacuation standpoint, it’s actually made things easier, but from a military perspective, it’s at least three times as dangerous.”

“Then… the civilians should be mostly safe, right?” Hibiki ventured.

“Can’t say that for sure.” The man’s voice turned even graver. “They’re not looting or… or worse. But anyone who crosses their path is getting cut down. If they hide, they’ve got a decent shot at surviving. But if they’re spotted—then no, I doubt they’ll make it out.”

“…”

Hibiki’s heart clenched at the thought of the city’s residents falling prey to the goblins. She lowered her gaze, unable to bear the image.

“Anyway,” the man continued, his voice suddenly resolute, “I still think the only way to break through this situation is to get outside the capital and surround them. We have to get out.”

“But… what about the retreat route?”

“That’s why I came to ask Woody.” He turned his steely eyes on the mage. “Look—any chance there’s a secret way out of the castle and into the city? At this point, it might be better to dash through the chaos all at once. I want to get you all out.”

“I see,” Woody said, his expression pensive as he weighed their options. “That would minimize the variables. And with Hibiki-sama and Chiya on our side, we’d have the advantage over all the orcs and goblins and demons running wild in the city.”

The fact that they’d lost contact with the team securing the main retreat route didn’t necessarily mean disaster—but they couldn’t ignore the possibility that the demons were intentionally jamming telepathic communication. They had to assume the established route was compromised.

“Yeah,” the man went on. “Once we’re clear of the capital, I’ll use telepathy to get the word out to the defenders—tell them to scatter and withdraw as well. We’ve got to move fast.”

“All right.” Woody nodded decisively. “I’ll show you the way. Also, have the frontline units start falling back, a little at a time. I’ll contact the other detachments myself. Once that’s done, let’s all regroup in the audience chamber. This room’s reinforced like no other—stronger than any ordinary wall—and the support barriers here are top-notch. We can hold out here for a while.”

“Thanks. I’ll relay that.”

As both of them began issuing their telepathic instructions, Hibiki rested her hand on Chiya’s trembling shoulder, steadying her, and waited in silence for the right moment to start their escape.

Suddenly, Hibiki felt the floor beneath her feet tremble ever so slightly.

Belda had also sensed something amiss. “Something’s wrong,” he said, shifting into a combat stance. “Hibiki, stay sharp. I’m feeling vibrations.”

The trembling didn’t stop; instead, it grew steadily stronger. Hibiki instinctively moved to shield Chiya, drawing her sword and turning her back to Belda, ready for anything.

Woody’s eyes focused on his comrades as he finished his telepathic communications. A cloud came over his face as he looked toward the middle of the grand staircase that led to the king’s dais.

“No… It can’t be.”

Then—

The spot Woody had been staring at erupted in a deafening explosion, sending debris everywhere. Shards flew toward Hibiki’s party, but she skillfully intercepted them with her blade. Yet the sight of the looming shadow emerging from the billowing smoke made her tense, her entire body tightening in alarm.

She knew exactly what it was.

“Normally, when you give your enemy an escape route, they’ll scramble for it like desperate rats. But in this case—looks like I should’ve expected you to stand your ground instead, Hero Hibiki.”

The familiar voice, laced with contemptuous amusement, sent a shiver down her spine. She scowled at the smoke as the figure revealed itself.

“Don’t tell me… Io,” she muttered bitterly. “You emptied Stella just for this?”

The swirling dust cleared to reveal a massive figure with four powerful arms. Its presence instantly heightened the tension in the room.

“Offense and defense are so fluid, aren’t they?” Io said coolly. “Just because one side holds a fortress doesn’t mean they’re obliged to remain on the defensive forever.”

“And what if we storm Stella now?” Hibiki shot back, her voice sharp as a blade. “You’d lose your precious base. Are you okay with that?”

“You think you’re bluffing?” Io’s grin widened. “The forces you sent toward Stella are already scrambling to turn back. I see everything.”

There was an overwhelming difference in situational awareness—Hibiki couldn’t even manage a single effective bluff. Her jaw clenched, bitter frustration tightening her lips.

“So, what’s your point?” she spat. “You popped up like a damn mole—what do you want?”

Before Io could respond, Woody answered, his voice hesitant but resigned.

“Hibiki-sama, that was the escape route we were planning on using.”

“!”

Io let out a dry chuckle. “Indeed. I waited a while for you, but you never came. So I decided to come to you.”

“There should have been soldiers guarding it,” Hibiki countered, her jaw tight with anger.

“Oh, there were.”

“And?”

“You’re really asking me that?” Io’s voice was dripping with feigned pity.

“You—Io, you killed them? My people!” Hibiki’s voice trembled with fury.

“That’s quite a misplaced accusation, Hero,” Io said. His voice was calm, but his tone said, Watch what you’re saying. “They were adventurers from Tsige, weren’t they? You’re the one who dragged them into this war, not me. That man there—he’s from Tsige too, isn’t he? We didn’t particularly care when your kind stuck to exploring the frontier.”

Infuriatingly, there was a bitter truth buried in his words. It wasn’t his place to say them, but they weren’t wrong.

“Oh, how gracious of you, Io—so tolerant of Tsige adventurers, are we?”

The man from Tsige, sweat trickling down his forehead, gestured exaggeratedly at Io, forcing a grin even as his knees threatened to buckle under the pressure of the demon’s overwhelming presence. In that moment, though, he knew. Even at a distance, it was obvious. Io wasn’t someone you fought—you ran from him. He was in a league where even facing him directly was tantamount to suicide.

Io’s expression remained calm, almost polite. “Most of the adventurers from Tsige are hardened Wasteland explorers. His Majesty respects them greatly—and so do I. So long as they don’t raise a blade against us, we do them no harm.”

“Ah… how generous,” the man said, voice trembling despite the sarcasm.

“There are those among you who hold no prejudice against demons, demi-humans, or monsters. That alone earns you some measure of respect. Pity, though—had they stayed in Tsige, they’d still be alive. Regrettable.”

“You know, we came from a direction that had some real tough customers,” the man said, his voice strained.

“They were strong,” Io acknowledged, almost respectfully. “I will admit I was especially impressed by their coordinated tactics. It’s been a while since my subordinates had something new to learn. I can’t afford a funeral in the middle of an operation, but I’m grateful for their skill.”

Hopeless, the man from Tsige realized.

This was power on a different scale—a calm, unshakable confidence. Even now, in the middle of this tense conversation, he couldn’t find a single opening. So, this is a demon general, he thought, and he was genuinely in awe.

“Hibiki,” he said at last, his voice taut, eyes locked on Io. “This is a losing fight. Even with the support barrier here, we can’t win if we take this guy head-on.”

“Oh? That’s unfortunate,” Io replied smoothly, his four arms shifting slightly as the darkness around him thickened. “Hero Hibiki, you will fight me here—and die. Don’t worry; consider the barrier part of the terrain.”

That voice, cold and composed, stirred something bitter inside Hibiki. It brought back memories—heavy, painful memories—of that day at Stella Fortress, when she’d watched Navarre fall.

The grief, the guilt, the bottomless rage—it all surged at once. But she forced herself to breathe slowly, to hold it in check.

“Sorry,” she said, steadying her sword. “I’m not here to fight you.”

“You have no choice,” Io said, his voice hardening. “If you run now, I won’t be able to restrain the troops who risked their lives to get here. When you finally come back to surround this place, you’ll find not a single living soul. And if those who fled join your siege, then I’ll be forced to hunt them down as well.”

Hibiki’s breath caught.

“So that’s it,” she muttered bitterly. “Dirty trick. Typical demon! They don’t even know the meaning of shame.”

“Of course I know what shame is,” Io said with cold finality. “As a warrior, it’s my code. But right now, I’m here as a general of the demon army. That means making the decisions that will bring us victory.”

“Killing civilians? Is that what makes you a soldier?!”

“This isn’t just another war between nations, Hibiki. It’s a war between species. The only possible results are the complete annihilation of one side or the subjugation of the other, with no future left. Deep down, surely even you know that. Or do you pretend not to notice that you never spare a thought for whether the monsters you slaughtered were soldiers or civilians?”

“…”

Io’s eyes glinted with resolve. “This is the reality of war. Now, what will you do? Run and let me chase you? Or gamble on that slim chance of defeating me here? Choose quickly. Either way—I’m starting.”

The darkness around Io thickened, and he advanced on them. All four arms bristled with wickedly crafted gauntlets, each one a lethal weapon.

Hibiki’s mind raced. A decision had to be made—now.

※※※

Mio was on her knees.

Her opponent was the Demon General Left, his lower body coiling like a serpent.

Her kimono was in tatters, revealing large patches of bare skin. Yet on her face there was no trace of panic or anger—only a smile of delight as she rose, slowly licking her lips.

“I don’t understand,” Left rumbled, his scaly tail twitching. “Your attacks no longer work on me. Even now, you still think you can defeat my Reflection?”

“Oh, I see. At first, I thought you were just a brute, easy to kill, but I see now you’ve analyzed my attacks. I’ll give you credit for that,” Mio purred, her smile sharpening.

“I can’t understand you,” Left admitted. “You have no means of attack left: your bullets, your slashes, your strikes—all of them are reflected. And yet you still stand. Your regenerative abilities are beyond abnormal.”

Left had taken every hit Mio could throw at him, studying them, memorizing them. He’d cataloged every technique she wielded and folded them neatly into his defensive power. Now he was trying to assess her as a person—but her behavior eluded him.

She kept repeating the same attacks, as if unaware they’d be reflected. It was almost childishly stubborn, yet she wore not a hint of frustration.

Unable to contain his curiosity, Left finally asked the question aloud. “Why do you keep attacking? What are you really after?”

“My weapons of choice are the Walther and the Smith & Wesson,” Mio replied airily, brushing some dust from her cheek. “Other than that, maybe some unstoppable slashes that can cut through steel. My agility’s still a work in progress.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Six in the Walther, eight in the Smith & Wesson—fourteen shots total.” She ticked the numbers off on her fingers. “Swords are basically unlimited, but…”

“Is that… relevant to your refusal to give up?”

“Oh, right!” Her tone brightened, as if she’d just remembered something. “The Walther—still has one left, doesn’t it?”

Left sighed, exasperated. “Trying to understand you was a mistake. Enough. If you intend to keep fighting until you die—so be it.”

“Mm. I think I’ve got one more in the chamber. Let’s see how it goes.”

With that, Mio raised her left hand, index and middle fingers pointing squarely at Left.

“Again with that one.” Left was unimpressed, even as a dark bullet spiraled from Mio’s hand and struck his chest.

It hit dead center. And yet, in the next instant, it was Mio herself who was blasted backward. A clean hole had been punched through her own chest, right where she’d aimed at Left.

“It never gets old,” she said with a small, delighted laugh, already standing up. “It’s so complex, I could never pull it off myself. That’s your weakness, though—you’re stuck doing all that complicated math.”

The wound in her chest closed almost instantly. Left’s eyes widened—at her resilience, yes, but more so at the implication in her words.

“You figured it out? But that regeneration… you’re no mere hyuman, are you? So why would you betray the Demon Lord?”

“All my shots are spent,” she chirped, sing-song. “I’ll reload, and then I’m back to full strength. Let’s see—nine shots on the left, six on the right, and my slashes. Can you reflect them all again?”

“It’s pointless,” Left growled. “No matter how many times—”

“This is all I’ll do,” she cut him off, smiling sweetly. “Out of respect for you, I won’t use any other attacks. You said, ‘No matter how many times’—and I say, ‘Every single time.’ But have you still not realized? This battle isn’t about letting you bask in some sense of superiority.”

She let out a soft, dangerous giggle.

Left had adapted to the three kinds of attacks Mio used—dark bullets she’d named after the two iconic guns she’d once heard about from Makoto, plus the sword strike technique she’d first learned.

They were the most straightforward forms of the power she’d gained that summer. Had the battle in Kaleneon been going poorly, she would have abandoned all pretense and slaughtered Left with any means necessary.

Fortunately, things in Kaleneon were overwhelmingly in her favor.

A hundred from the Demiplane Army easily outmatched two thousand of the demon army. Reinforcements trickling in from the surrounding area were quickly routed.

Then, Mio resolved to unravel the artful yet bizarre technique Left had been using. It was Left who believed he was the one analyzing her, yet in truth, Mio was the one studying him. She wasn’t simply refusing to stay down—she was biding her time, observing every detail.

In this duel, it was Left who found himself cornered.

“What?”

“You keep up that graceful reflection of yours,” Mio said, her smile a taunting challenge. “If you can’t maintain it, that’s when you lose. The outcome outside is already decided, you see.”

“Impossible,” Left spat. “For us to lose in such a short time—ridiculous!”

“You won’t even get to see it. Well then, shall we begin?”

“Damn you… At least I’ll take you with me! You can’t regenerate forever! I’ll return every attack—ten, a hundred, I’ll reflect them all!”

“Be careful—fail to reflect even one, and that’s the end. Good luck. Oh, and if you can survive a few thousand of these, maybe you’ll have a chance at winning.”

Mio’s dark bullets and slashes cut through the now-widened space, each time piercing her own body and slamming her against the walls.

Yet her attacks never ceased. The strange, lopsided battle dragged on.

“Good grief.” Tomoe sighed from her perch on a nearby hilltop. “I can’t remember the last time I saw Mio actually enjoy a fight. Is she planning to master that reflection technique?”

Her own battle had been dull, one-sided butchery. The highland orcs and misty lizardfolk had ruthlessly trampled the enemy ranks, leaving nothing but corpses in their wake.

Now, deprived of an opponent, Tomoe had considered joining Mio’s fight, but the look on Mio’s face suggested that interfering might earn her nothing but resentment later.

“Hmm… heading for Young Master might be good, but—well, since I’m free now, maybe I’ll take care of some chores.” She chuckled. “Splitting the border around here might make things simpler later. It’s no trouble to throw together a bridge or two, and a clearer boundary might help. Yes, let’s do that.”

With that, Tomoe vanished from the hilltop, leaving behind nothing but a mountain of corpses.

※※※

“An item to disguise yourself, huh?” Shiki tilted his head in the semi-darkness.

“Yeah,” I said. “Because if I show up in Limia like this, they’ll figure out I’m Raidou, the merchant, right away, won’t they?”

“That’s true…”

“And if that happens, all the hard work Tomoe and everyone put in at Rotsgard would be wasted. There’s no way that goddess would be considerate enough to overlook that.”

“Given how things have turned out, sticking to our original plan might be difficult, but…”

“Shiki, you can just take on your pre-Contract form, can’t you? You did it before. Tomoe and Mio said they can’t go back to theirs, but you’re more versatile than they are.”

“Hmm… yes, that’s right. I can do that. But what about you, Young Master?”

Within the shadowy mass that had plunged into the capital, I was discussing with Shiki how I could hide my appearance.

I didn’t have my mask with me, and showing my real face would be a problem. But we couldn’t waste time—this situation was already a mess. That Goddess hadn’t given me any time to prepare, leaving me in a huge bind.

“Do you have any ideas?” I asked.

“As a matter of fact, I do have something,” Shiki replied with a smile.

“At this point, I’ll take anything.”

“Then use this.” He reached into his pocket and produced a slender object about the length of a hand.

“Wha— Why do you even have that, Shiki?!”

“I thought it’d be a shame just to throw it away, so when you discarded it, I picked it up.”

“You’re so— Wait, actually, that’s kind of clutch, huh?”

“It’s not exactly a bad thing to have on hand.”

It was the transformation item that Mio had so gleefully given me a while back—it could transform the user into a fully equipped tokusatsu hero² at the press of a button.

It didn’t mesh well with my abilities, so I hadn’t really used it. Still, if someone sold it back in Japan, it’d probably be a huge hit.

Back in the Demiplane, when I’d absentmindedly pressed the switch as everyone watched, I’d transformed on the spot, forced to display a ridiculous cosplay outfit for all to see. The people of the Demiplane were impressed, thinking it was a new type of full-body armor. But I knew exactly what it was modeled after, and it had felt like a devastating ambush.

Afterward, I’d thrown it away with all my might, half out of embarrassment and half out of anger. I never imagined Shiki had picked it up.

“Young Master, the wall is dissolving,” Shiki informed me, now back in his old lich form. “Get ready.”

Guess I have no choice.

With a hero around, this is going to be even more humiliating. But it’s better than revealing my real identity.

I braced myself, gripping the small device—a bit like a short ballpoint pen—and pressed the switch.

“All right. Huh? The color is…”

The metallic suit that formed around me looked like it came from the next century, with thick, mechanical parts covering my shoulders and legs. The overall design screamed “hero show,” but the comical face was so out of place that it made the whole thing look unbalanced. It was the same as the one I’d worn back in the Demiplane—except the base color had changed.

“It was blue before, but now it’s white. The suit’s abilities haven’t changed much, it seems,” Shiki observed.

White? Seriously… White… Somehow, that’s even more embarrassing than blue.

For me, the suit’s effect was an increase in attack power but a drop in defense. I’d have preferred the opposite, honestly.

I mean, who benefits from a transformation that actually reduces their defense?

As Shiki had said, a large crack appeared in the black wall that had enclosed us, and then it shattered completely.

“Let’s go,” I said.

“Yes, my lord. I shall protect you with all my strength!” Shiki glanced at me, brimming with enthusiasm, and I took a step forward.

It’s not just Shiki this time. I’m here to fight too. In that sense, this might be my first real battlefield.

Anyway, here I was, a white tokusatsu hero, accompanied by a skeleton in an extravagant robe of black and gold embroidery, stepping out onto the battlefield.

I’d expected to be outdoors, but instead, we were hemmed in by walls.

It felt like a fairly spacious hall, and judging by the luxurious decor and furnishings—well, the remnants of them—it was probably inside a castle. Off to the side, there was a raised platform that might have once held a throne… now just a pile of rubble.

So, this was probably some kind of audience chamber.

At the back, a handful of hyumans were surrounded by a squad of demons. They looked like they were in dire straits.

Still, what would people think if someone showed up in a getup like this in the middle of a battle? If it were me, I’d be speechless. Yeah, definitely.

“…”

Predictably, though the crowd wasn’t huge, every single person was staring at me, not saying a word. Out of all of them, the one who seemed most on guard was a giant with four arms—he probably belonged to the demon army, and he looked important. A high-ranking general, I assumed.

There were others around too—some humanoid demons, like a centaur, a minotaur, a handful of soldiers, and that four-armed giant.

Yeah… he must be the boss.

So, the demon army was a mixed force of demi-humans and monsters, and apparently, even their leader was a demi-human, not a full demon.

I mean, demons are technically demi-humans too, but still—this is pretty impressive. In the hyuman armies, demi-humans are usually treated like expendable shock troops.

Man.

Just looking at this makes me want to root for the demons. I haven’t even met the Demon Lord yet, but I already kind of respect them.

Demons really are way more progressive than hyumans.

Still, I’d promised the Goddess. I had to side with the heroes, no matter how I felt about it.

Ugh…

Using the layout of the enemy forces, I zeroed in on the person who was probably the hero. “The hero… is over there,” I told Shiki.

Whoa.

That outfit…

She wore what looked like a bikini made of fur and leather, revealing more skin than I would have ever thought possible.

Even the fur seemed less cute and more like it was meant to emphasize her sex appeal. Is this… the adult’s version of “furries” I’ve heard about?

It felt like some over-the-top cosplay. But…

Wait a second.

No way.

In that instant, more than the outfit, what caught my eyes—no, stuck them to her like glue—was her face.

“Young Master?” Shiki asked.

“No way,” I murmured. “It can’t be.”

A wounded woman looked my way.

That face… It looks just like the student council president from back home.

“President Otonashi?” I muttered under my breath, momentarily forgetting where we were. “Senpai?”

Back at my school, she was a local celebrity. We’d only ever really talked a couple of times about club budgets or something. But that face—

No, it’s not just that she looks like her. If she’s the hero, that means she’s from my world too. So that’s what Tsukuyomi meant when he said, “One of them is closer than you think.”

My senpai… is a hero?

※※※

Is that really her? Otonashi?

I wanted to confirm it, but that could wait.

If it really is her, she probably would have waved and called out to me the moment she saw me. It’d be like bumping into a friend on an overseas trip—unexpected but familiar.

Still, I was surprised by how calm I felt, the way I was able to compartmentalize my thoughts.

Maybe it’s the atmosphere here that’s keeping me grounded.

I looked around at the place I’d landed.

Judging by the damage, there’s been some serious fighting here. Most of the people in the room looked injured.

From what I could tell, the only ones still more or less unscathed were the small girl from the hero’s party and… the giant on the demon’s side.

“Young Master, I believe that’s the hero,” Shiki whispered, his voice low. “Shall we prioritize getting her to safety?”

Damn it, I went through all the trouble of transforming, but whether I’m called Raidou or “Young Master,” people will probably figure out who I really am soon enough. And with her here, it’d be even worse if Makoto were exposed.

Should I come up with a new name?

No, no—that’d complicate things.

Well, it’s not like I’ll have many chances to introduce myself in this ridiculous getup anyway, so I guess anything will do.

“Shiki, don’t use my name when you talk to me,” I told him. “Just stick to the essentials. No matter what name I pick, they might figure out who I am.”

“Understood,” he said. “Then… just for now, I’ll call you ‘Master.’ And you may refer to me as ‘Larva.’ ‘Shiki’ could give us away.”

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t Rona recognize ‘Larva’ too?”

“She would, but she doesn’t quite believe that I’ve pledged my loyalty to you. I thought I’d use that misunderstanding to our advantage. Someone like her is more likely to fall for this than a more far-fetched lie.”

“All right, I’ll leave that to you. For now, I want to test whether I can actually communicate in the common language here. So, I’m going to head over to the hero. The demon general… well, he looks reasonable enough.”

My head still feels a bit heavy.

If I can’t even speak the common language here… that will be a disaster.

“I see. All right,” Shiki said, his voice subdued.

“You’ll have your chance to shine later, so just hang back for now,” I assured him. The skull-headed figure dipped his head slightly with disappointment, but I knew he’d get his moment. The situation all but guaranteed it.

“Thank you for your thoughtfulness,” he replied.

In this insane costume, at least my magic is concentrated inside the suit, so I don’t need to worry about hiding it with the barrier. That means, for the first time in ages, I can use my sensory skills and environmental awareness to their fullest.

If only it hadn’t come with over-the-top cosplay—the suit would have been perfect for daily life. But the one fatal flaw was that no matter how good the utility, it was way too flashy to blend in.

About fifty meters ahead, the hero and the giant stood facing off, only about ten meters apart from each other. I kept my eyes on their movements as I took a cautious step forward.

“—!”

“…”

My movement seemed to spark a new layer of tension between them. Both placed their attention on me, unable to look away. I carefully expanded my sensory field, maintaining a level of detail that wouldn’t overwhelm me. Piece by piece, the layout of the city unfolded in my mind’s eye. From the castle outward, I could see that battles were breaking out in multiple spots. I began committing my mental map to memory.

This is good. I can work with this.

The demon forces consisted of beastmen, monsters, and proper demons—a pretty even mix, although there were fewer monsters than I’d expected. Their equipment was top-notch—precisely what I’d expect from professional soldiers.

The skirmishes clustered into a narrow isosceles triangle, with the castle at its peak. It looked like the enemy had advanced in nearly a straight line from their entry point to the castle.

All right, that gives me a solid picture of the immediate battlefield. Let’s broaden the scope now—less detail, more range.

When I extended my senses to the outer walls of the royal capital, I found the base of the triangle, the area furthest from the castle.

So that’s where they broke through. That must have taken some mighty siege engines or magic.

The demon side probably numbered a few thousand. Even though it was a surprise attack, it felt like too few to subjugate a city. Limia’s defenders, on the other hand, numbered at least ten thousand.

This isn’t an open-field battle where you can line up armies and count heads. If the difference isn’t tenfold or twentyfold, it might not be a decisive advantage.

The demons had already infiltrated the city and were moving in concentrated formations. The scattered Limian troops—having failed to mount a coordinated defense—were being picked apart. Judging by the fires raging all over the city, it looked like the demons might have had collaborators or spies set up in advance. Just like that incident at Rotsgard…

I lowered the accuracy of my sensory field to only detect clusters of people, then expanded it outward. I sensed people trying to escape the capital—and, conversely, I also sensed large groups heading toward the capital from the surrounding towns.

Probably reinforcements.

“Looks like Limia’s planning to abandon the capital for now.” I spoke so only Shiki could hear. “Troops are gathering from the outside—they’re probably coordinating a siege.”

“For Limia to make such a flexible decision… Could it be the hero’s influence?” he replied.

Shiki looked a little surprised, but I could sense the intense aura of someone craving combat radiating from his whole body. If anyone else were standing here next to me, they’d probably faint from the pressure alone.

Not to mention, every time he spoke while in this form, the red glow in his hollow eyes flared and dimmed with eerie intensity. I let out a small laugh, thankful the suit kept my expression hidden, then turned my gaze forward.

“Whoever you are—stop right there.” The giant’s voice was heavy with authority, perfectly befitting his size. Even one of his fingers looked as large as my entire arm.

I wasn’t going to stop. Not here. I had to get closer if I wanted to protect the hero, who was simply standing there, staring silently at me.

If I could hear her voice, I’d have a better idea whether it was really Senpai.

If so, I’ll need to switch to a gentler plan for the hero. No way could I bring myself to treat her harshly.

Seeing me continue to advance without responding, the giant subtly signaled with his eyes. Soldiers who’d been hiding behind the pillars to my left and right suddenly burst out and charged at us.

Ignore the warning, and they try to eliminate you on the spot. Impressive.

I could sense the hero’s breath catch in her throat. Guess she didn’t know they were there. These attackers had already been detected through my Realm, though, so it was no surprise for me.

From above, from the ground, from left and right—four coordinated attacks came at us.

They’re well-trained, that’s for sure.

“…”

Just as I was about to intercept them, Shiki held out one arm, holding me back. In his other hand was a pitch-black staff—well, closer to a rod than a typical mage’s staff. There was no gem as you’d typically expect; this was a custom weapon, just for Shiki.

I’d hoped to warm up a little in this suit, but I guess I’ll let him handle this one.

“At last, a chance to be useful in battle. My thanks, you worthless rabble. Perish without suffering.” He spoke coldly, tapping the staff lightly on the floor.

He always did love that activation style.

In the next instant, the two hyuman-sized, ant-like flying creatures above us immediately exploded. Without a moment’s pause, Shiki moved soundlessly to my right, where a black-robed demon was lurking. From the tip of his staff extended a large, curved blade that swung sideways, neatly severing the demon’s neck.

A scythe, huh.

With his hooded robe and skeletal figure, he looked every bit the Grim Reaper.

The last attacker seemed to shift his target from Shiki to me, holding his sword at the ready as he charged.

Shiki, can you handle him in time?

I turned my head slightly—and there was Shiki’s back already in my line of sight.

No need to worry.

Shiki had always been good at instantaneous movement, at least when it came to short ranges.

I’d thought he might be even better than Mio at first… but he struggled with longer distances. I wonder why.

The last attacker was lifted off the ground as Shiki’s skeletal hand crushed her head. She wore a hood so I couldn’t make out her features, but the black skin suggested she was an elf—probably a dark elf. Her sword, still clutched in her dead grip, snapped against Shiki’s sternum, now useless.

“Guh…”

That was all she managed before Shiki drained her life force, and her body crumbled to white bones.

That was the last of them.

I gave a single, silent nod and started walking again. Shiki brushed the dust from his robe and fell into step behind me. I reached the spot between the hero and the demon.

“Can I assume… you’re an enemy?” The giant spoke menacingly, even though it sounded like a question.

“Are you… an ally?” the hero echoed, her tone sincere.

A sigh left my lips as I heard that familiar voice. It really is her.

Why are you here? You were supposed to have a perfectly safe, comfortable life.

Wearing this outfit, there was no way I’d be easily recognized. But if I started asking something like, “Why did you end up in another world?” that would definitely raise suspicions.

Right now, I was a mystery—an unknown figure with no ties to any faction. That gave me a significant advantage.

It wasn’t worth throwing that away now to ask a question, no matter how badly I wanted to know.

“By covenant with the Goddess, I’m here to protect the hero. Also, the demons must immediately abandon Stella Fortress. With your telepathic communication, you should be able to relay that order from this distance.”

Because Mio had insisted on a particular design for the suit, my voice, transmitted through it, emerged with a cold, mechanical resonance that sounded nothing like my own.

“So, you’re an enemy after all,” the giant rumbled, his voice thick with suspicion. “That armor of yours—I’ve never seen anything like it. Is it some ancient relic? Or perhaps, given that mechanical voice, a golem of some kind? It seems the Goddess has more pieces on her board than we knew about.”

He tensed into a fighting stance. His skin gleamed like polished obsidian, shifting fluidly as he moved—perfectly prepared for combat.

His style was clearly martial arts.

The giant’s weapons were unusual: gauntlets affixed to all four arms, extending almost to his shoulders—custom-made, no doubt. In fact, calling them “gauntlets” might not even do them justice; they looked more like specialized battle armor, forged for close-quarters fighting.

“It’s a misunderstanding, giant,” I replied, my voice calm. “I have no intention of engaging the demons here. If you withdraw from this place and abandon Stella Fortress, I swear no hyumans will pursue you.”

“Impossible,” he declared flatly. “The hero will die here. My soldiers and I have risked our lives for this moment, and we have no reason to surrender Stella unconditionally.”

“Even the orcs wouldn’t stoop to pillaging or violating women. Regardless of their strength, losing such a well-disciplined force would be a heavy blow to the demon army, wouldn’t it?”

He let out a low laugh. “Strange to be praised by an enemy, but I’ll accept the compliment nonetheless. Still, there’s a world of difference between losing a unit and abandoning a strategic stronghold. The two conditions you’ve laid out are ones we cannot possibly accept.”

Recognizing that I hadn’t drawn my weapon or taken a stance, he didn’t attack. It wasn’t out of courtesy, but rather because he was studying me.

This man was both a warrior and a soldier.

For some reason—perhaps instinct—I knew which of those he was in this moment—a soldier.

“Shame,” I muttered with regret. “I always thought the demon army was impressive for welcoming demi-humans and monsters without prejudice and for maintaining such strict order. They’re far more progressive than hyumans in a lot of ways.”

“It is a shame,” the giant agreed. “To hear such words from one who serves the Goddess’s vanguard. Even if we embrace all manner of races, we are still the king’s sword. A sword must possess dignity and inspire fear. Otherwise, it is unworthy of the king’s hand. Thus, we temper ourselves. Vulgar conduct would only tarnish the blade, diminishing the honor of both king and country.”

As he spoke, a quiet surge of battle aura swiftly flared around him.

“Would you truly let yourself be shattered in a single stroke?” I asked, my voice low.

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. “Our king bears the weight of every action we take. Even if we are shattered in an instant, we will have struck down the enemy and proven ourselves worthy of his trust. Your proposal is rejected. Stand aside. I will not strike you down unless you shield the hero. And if you’ve thought this far ahead, then surely you’ve begun to see the shadows that lurk beneath the Goddess’s rule in this world.”

His voice hardened, and he took a single step forward, shattering the delicate balance between us.

“Payment was made upfront,” I muttered, giving him a wry smile. “Guess that makes me sound like a villain, huh? But I’m on the hero’s side today. Even if it’s a promise with someone I can’t trust, I refuse to break it.”

“Then that’s that,” the giant responded, his tone grim. “I will strike down the hero—and you along with her. I am Io, Demon General Io.”

“…”

“What, no name?” He gave a low chuckle. “Twice now the white one has interfered when I tried to slay Hibiki. Perhaps this, too, is the hero’s fate at work.”

Hibiki… So that’s what he called her. That pretty much confirms she’s my senpai. Even Gritonia’s hero had a Japanese-sounding name. Japan sure seems to be popular in other worlds these days.

I barely had time to process that thought before battle erupted.

Io kicked things off with a mighty punch. I tensed my lower body just slightly and caught his fist with my left hand.

“You… stopped it?!” Hibiki’s shocked voice rang out behind me. Given the difference in our sizes, I couldn’t blame her.

“Hero of Limia,” I called over my shoulder. “Take your allies and get back. Larva, get her out of here.”

“Back there… you didn’t exactly sound like an ally. But… can I trust you now?” Hibiki’s voice trembled as she debated whether to move.

“Of course,” I assured her firmly. “I won’t let them lay a finger on you. Larva.”

“Yes! This way!” Shiki urged.

At last, Hibiki and her group began to retreat, but their eyes still betrayed their wariness.

“Be careful,” she called back over her shoulder. “Io’s absurdly strong. Whatever you do, don’t try to beat him with brute force. Take that as the final advice from a loser who couldn’t measure up.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I replied. I meant it… though in truth, I’d probably try to win with strength anyway.

Just then, Io’s next strike hurtled toward me, and I caught it with my right hand.

“You dare—?!” His voice thundered with rage. “But—!”

The giant tensed as he let out a sharp battle cry, even as my grip pinned two of his arms.

“Ah, I see,” I murmured. “You’re short a few arms.”

“That’s—exactly—it!!!” His roar was punctuated by a heavy blow to my ribs, blunt but powerful. Then he slipped another strike through his own arms, catching my jaw in a precise, practiced movement.

He’s good. But that won’t cut it today. The force behind those hits… Too light.

“What?!” Io’s eyes widened in shock as he realized the futility of his attacks. He leaped back, instantly reassessing the situation.

“Quick to adapt,” I acknowledged, closing the distance between us without hesitation. He was flustered—maybe I could land a hit.

“You bas—guuh?!”

I twisted my body, slipping behind him for just a moment, then spun back around and unleashed a powerful backfist. He managed to block it with all four arms, but from the way he winced, I knew it had left a mark.

“That was a dragon slayer’s backfist,” I said with a faint smirk.

“It doesn’t even sound like a joke coming from you,” Io growled. “Don’t tell me even you have the Rose Sign now… I might enjoy this more than Hibiki.”

Not joking, huh? I kept my gaze locked on his, his eyes betraying cold calculation as his aura flared with violence.

In this strange state, my attack power was heightened, but my defense weakened. I wondered if this would be a blessing or a curse.

It’s odd. I know I’m standing on a battlefield, yet my mind is clear. No panic. No fear. Just an unshakable calm.

Funny how a shift in mindset can change everything. In fact, I might have been more at ease than when lecturing students back at the academy.

Io watched me warily, searching for an opening. I squared up to him.

My fight in the royal capital of Limia had begun.

Chapter 4

Hibiki

I… had lost. Again.

Even though I’d grown undeniably stronger—and even though I’d had the advantage of a surprise attack this time—victory had still slipped through my fingers.

My time in the frontier city of Tsige had given me so much. Thanks to the new equipment we’d acquired, everyone’s strength improved. Some of the adventurers who’d come to Limia with me even joined Limia’s army, bringing with them new ideas and a style of fighting that had a positive influence on our troops.

Of course, they’d influenced me too.

I might not have learned as much as I did from meeting Mio-san or the dwarf Beren-san back in that rugged city, but the lessons I took from those adventurers were still significant.

I’d also started taking steps to break free from the constraints of politics and noble obligations. After all, with Stella Fortress now in demon hands, the capital’s position was more vulnerable than ever. What’s more, I was starting to feel that the nobles themselves had amassed far too much military power.

Even there, I made some progress.

I’d spent time in deep conversations with the next generation of heirs—the ones who would eventually shape the future of this kingdom. I wanted them to realize that there was a better way—a vision for our country that could surpass the current state of things.

Of course, with a war raging, I couldn’t risk triggering a large-scale civil conflict. So for now, I’d limited myself to planting the seeds of change.

My goal wasn’t to rebel against the royal family.

Fortunately, I’d found early support in Ilum, the second son of the Hopleys family—a prominent noble house close to the throne. His endorsement had been a massive help in getting my plans off the ground.

I knew I’d continue to rely on his support in the days ahead.

Whether it was the plan to retake Stella Fortress or any other operation, I’d felt like I was giving everything I had. I was sure we would succeed.

And yet—

Instead of launching an attack on the fortress, we’d been caught off guard by Io’s surprise strike, allowing him to break into the royal capital itself—and even into the audience chamber.

At first, I’d thought about falling back, but since he’d made it that far, retreat wasn’t really an option anymore.

Trying to flee the castle and then escape the city while Io was hunting me down would be, to put it mildly, a nightmare. The damage it posed to us—and to everyone around us—was unimaginable.

In the end, I’d chosen—no, been forced to choose—to settle things quickly in the audience chamber, where the support barrier was deployed.

Io had completely neutralized Belda with those minotaurs and centaurs he’d supposedly dragged in from the Wasteland, leaving me no choice but to face him one-on-one.

I had Woody’s supporting attacks, Chiya-chan’s healing and buffs, and the protective barrier in the audience chamber itself. And on top of that, I still carried the silver belt housing my guardian beast, Horn, and the sword Beren had forged for me back in Tsige.

Even against Io—who’d turned pitch-black from the outset, unleashing his full power—I had believed I could hold my own.

Frustratingly, the reality had been different.

Now, in front of my eyes, the one fighting Io wasn’t me—it was that white-suited figure who’d burst in out of nowhere.

The urge to shout, “What kind of sick joke is this?” simmered in my chest.

Like some Sunday morning tokusatsu hero, that white figure had blocked Io’s attacks head-on. Even after taking two heavy strikes, he hadn’t faltered—instead, he’d landed a blow that forced the giant to retreat.

The warning I’d given just moments before—not to attempt a brute-force fight—felt almost laughable now.

He was strong.

Incredibly strong.

His movements were stiff, but that white figure was likely maintaining several high-level enhancement spells all at once as he fought Io in close quarters. From my perspective—someone who actually knew what tokusatsu was—his outfit made me feel like I was watching a hero show, and it was downright embarrassing. But that didn’t change the fact that he was fighting Io as an equal. In terms of raw strength, speed, and basic physical stats, he even looked superior.

On the other hand, Io’s footwork and tactical maneuvers were a level above his opponent’s.

Well, I suppose I can’t really talk about costumes, either.

I let out a short breath and checked my own body.

I’d healed myself, and Chiya had tended to me, too, so there wasn’t a scratch left on me.

In this outfit, any injuries I get will be painfully obvious.

My attire was practically a fur bikini, leaving so little to the imagination that even a gravure idol’s swimsuit might have been less revealing.

It was part of one of the powers I’d gained through resonance with Horn, the guardian beast dwelling within my silver belt. The problem was, whenever I activated it, this was the form it gave me.

It’s embarrassing, I thought, but if this is what it takes to perform at my best… then I can’t afford to hesitate.

By synchronizing with both the silver belt and Horn at the same time—a rough technique called “fusion”—I could channel its power without losing any control over my will. Unlike possession, this didn’t override my mind. The defensive field that formed around me even surpassed the armor Beren had crafted.

To fight Io at his full strength, I needed this power and speed. I’d come to accept that.

Speaking of which… This sword.

Who would have thought it had the power of wind sealed inside?

Mio-san and Beren-san really are amazing.

They must have known my affinity for that element in the moment they made it for me.

During my battle with Io, I’d finally come to understand what this weapon was capable of.

It had spoken to me in that same mechanical voice, like an automaton calling for my attention. Unlike Horn, with whom I’d fully merged, the sword felt more like a challenge—a test of strength. Responding to its summons, I drew out its power and reined it in.

Each time I did, a harsh metallic screech filled the air as the massive blade compressed itself down to the size of a bastard sword—the size I was used to wielding. The once-translucent green blade lost some of its clarity, darkening to a deeper shade that pulsed with stronger wind energy.

Whoever designed this thing had a twisted sense of humor, I thought. To unlock its full potential, I didn’t have to understand it—I had to subdue it.

Its power was undeniable.

Just holding it made my movements quicker and my senses sharper.

Its cutting edge improved dramatically, and even in his blackened, transformed state, Io couldn’t shrug off its blows.

When I used my favored fire-based attacks, the sword’s wind element boosted the flames even further, and when I imbued it with elemental power, the blade burst into a brilliant green inferno.

Wind element enhances fire. Beren-san must have thought that wind-based weapons would suit my fighting style better than purely fire-based ones.

“I see.” Io had sneered at me. “Once, you were a warrior without a proper weapon, and now you’re a warrior controlled by her weapon.”

I couldn’t deny the irony—but the weapon’s performance had been so exceptional that even his taunts barely registered. Io couldn’t keep up with my speed, and my attacks kept landing on him.

There was a moment, I remembered, when I was certain I’d won.

And yet—

His trump card wasn’t his blackened form.

It was those massive gauntlets on his arms—both weapon and shield. He hadn’t worn them in our previous battle; he must have crafted them afterward.

Each of his four gauntlets housed one of the four great elements: earth, water, fire, and wind. With them, he could channel elemental energy into his attacks, simple yet devastating.

Wind and earth to hamper my movements.

Water and fire to weaken my strikes.

If it hadn’t been for those gauntlets, I could have finished this fight before Io had a chance to adapt.

It didn’t take long for him to read my patterns.

From there, he launched a counterattack. Io didn’t even bother to block the spells Woody and Chiya had cast to support me; he just charged through them, using his own body as a shield.

His relentless assault—blow after blow that felt like it was tearing my body apart—had flipped the entire fight on its head.

It must have been a six-hit—no, maybe a seven-hit combo, including that final kick.

Near the end of Io’s chain attack, Woody had unleashed a desperate barrage of spells, ignoring his dwindling mana to force an opening. Chiya had healed me as quickly as she could.

I’d managed to cast my own healing spells and patch myself up enough to stand again, but Woody’s magic reserves were all but drained. His strength plummeted as a result.

That’s when everything changed.

A black mass, streaked with faint gold light, came crashing down from the sky into the audience chamber…

… and from it emerged a ghastly skeleton and that white-suited figure straight out of a tokusatsu show.

Led by the skeleton, we’d retreated from Io’s reach. My companions and I slumped against the wall to catch our breath.

He must be the subordinate of that white-suited one, I thought. But even so, he made no move to help—he just stood calmly, quietly watching the battle unfold.

It felt like he’d erected some kind of protective field around us, but that was all the help we were getting from him.

That white one really was holding his own against Io, I had to admit. Still, though…

“Isn’t he your master?” I asked. “Shouldn’t you be out there helping him, instead of just standing around?”

“It’s unnecessary,” the skeleton replied coolly. “Against an opponent of that level, any interference would only get in his way. Besides… Hibiki, was it? That weapon you’re holding—you got it in Tsige, didn’t you?”

“What— Why are you asking that right now?”

“No reason, really,” he said with a shrug. “I was just wondering if it was a product of the Kuzunoha Company.”

“You know about them?!”

He nodded. “To some extent. Although in my case, I’m more interested in the materials that weapon is made from.”

“The… materials?”

“Yes. Years ago, I created an experimental creature by feeding it several wind spirits in the Wasteland. It had a scythe that looked a lot like the one you’ve got.”

“Wait a second. You’re saying you’re the one who created that monster? And this sword—it’s made from that thing?!”

“More or less,” he said, a faintly amused smile playing at his lips. “Though it’s irrelevant now. After all, that creature amounted to nothing more than materials for a weapon in the end.”

“You’re… You’re making it sound so casual. Just who are you?!”

“My name’s Larva. A lich with a penchant for experimentation.” He paused, turning his empty eye sockets on Woody and Belda as they began to rise. “You two. Stay where you are. Don’t move an inch.”

The skeleton spoke in a tone that left no room for argument. Woody’s mana hadn’t fully recovered yet, so he probably couldn’t fight even if he wanted to.

That wasn’t the real reason Larva stopped them.

I followed Woody’s and Belda’s line of sight—and saw two enemies approaching: a centaur and a minotaur. Both toughened by the Wasteland, and no easy foes even for me.

But if it’s me… I can handle them. I should step in here. My body’s recovered enough to fight.

Just as I reached for my sword, Larva’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Hero. You too. Stay where you are.”

“You don’t see them?!” I snapped. “Those two are nothing. Give me three minutes and I’ll finish them. Just let me handle it!”

“Don’t misunderstand me.” His voice was like ice. “I’m not asking your opinion. I’m giving you an order.”

His skeletal face was incapable of expression, but his tone made it clear that he was deadly serious. And yet, I couldn’t just accept that.

“Such harsh words,” I retorted. “I do appreciate your help, but this is in your best interest too, isn’t it?”

I stood up, gripping my sword tightly. I felt a faint drain on my strength and quickly recast my enhancement spells.

It’s not as refined as that white one’s magic, but keeping constant enhancement spells running still eats through my mana pretty fast.

The real problem was that if I let my guard down, the spells could drop suddenly. But the trade-off was stability, which suited me just fine since I had more than enough mana to sustain it.

“If there’s even the slightest chance you’ll get hurt,” Larva snapped, “then it’s nothing but a liability to me. Sit down. Stay silent and keep still.”

So that’s how it is, I realized. These guys aren’t really our allies at all.

“This will be over in no time,” I said, defiance in my voice.

“If you leave this field, I will kill your companions,” he said flatly.

“What?!”

“Our agreement with the Goddess doesn’t guarantee their safety. As long as you remain unharmed, I couldn’t care less what happens to the rest of the hyumans.”

What the hell is he saying?

What was the Goddess thinking, sending someone like him to the royal capital?

His words held no trace of humor, and I could tell he genuinely placed no value on hyuman lives.

“Then what do you expect me to do?” I demanded. “Look, they’re coming!”

“I’ll handle it,” he said. “All of you, just sit there and hold your breath.”

“You—! That’s beyond rude—” Belda’s temper finally snapped.

Woody reached out to hold him back. “Belda-dono, let’s leave this to that gentleman,” he said quietly. “Picking a fight with him now would be unwise.”

He’s right, I thought. We’d already committed to facing Io head-on. We couldn’t afford to make more enemies now.

The demon army had invaded the royal capital; our job was to drive them out as quickly as possible. And to do that, maybe we’d even have to find a way to get around Larva himself.

“Fine,” I said, my voice laced with a hint of bitterness. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Larva-dono. Show us your strength.”

The white one sent him out with a faint smirk.

There was no denying he was strong. I’d seen how easily he dispatched the ambushers. I’d seen his instantaneous movement and inhumanly fast casting speed.

His weapons were anything but ordinary.

Still, his mana pool was only about twice that of Woody’s—less than Chiya’s or mine. Mana alone didn’t define a mage’s power, of course, but…

Those centaurs and minotaurs were no pushovers. If it were me, I’d rely on my sword’s elemental buffs and my overwhelming speed to push them down.

Larva was a different kind of fighter—clearly a mage. How would he handle this?

Show me, then.

Shiki

A colossal warrior with the head of a bull raised his battle axe high.

Hmm… is he a demi-human or a monster? Fascinating. I should make a note to investigate if we meet again.

I stepped back just as the axe came crashing down, sparing myself the impact. The weapon slammed into the floor—yet, instead of the expected eruption of debris or a gaping crater, it left only a faint scar.

An excellent support barrier, I mused. As expected from a great nation.

Next, an arrow came whistling toward me. I struck it down with my staff.

“So, you’re an archer.”

Centaur warriors were among the proudest of all demi-humans. They tended to favor either bows or spears, splitting their forces cleanly into front- and rear-guard roles.

This one’s an archer, then. A cut above those ambushers earlier, I’d wager.

“We cannot stand idly by while Io-sama is fighting,” the centaur declared, voice sharp with conviction. “Step aside, lich.”

“Your strength is impressive,” the minotaur added. “But that trick of yours won’t work on us.”

Neither had lost their composure. Interesting.

“I’m not one for showing unnecessary strength,” I replied coolly. “Forgive me. Fortunately, Young Master has promised me another opportunity to demonstrate my abilities later. For now, I’ll let you warm up a bit.”

The air between them shifted immediately at my words.

Hmph. Warriors really are easy to provoke when you toy with their pride.

“Very well,” the centaur growled. “You’re still an obstacle, and you still killed our kin.”

“And I know your strength,” the minotaur sneered. “We raise creatures like you at home—vicious, unruly beasts that need constant breaking.”

“Tch,” I scoffed. The minotaur’s killing intent hit me like a wave, but I deflected it with a mocking smile.

“How foolish,” I said softly. “What could you possibly gain by rousing needless anger?”

The centaur tried to maintain a mask of composure, but I decided to needle him too. “Besides, for a steed like you to lack even a single horn—well, I have little use for such a fragile beast. Apologies.”

“Tch!”

Both the minotaur and centaur were practically frothing at the mouth now.

Perfect.

“Let’s begin, then,” I said. “Technically speaking, I’m a former lich.” I lifted my staff, completing the last words of the spell as the magic surged through me. “Why ‘former’? Allow me to show you. Let’s see how long you can endure this… Thirteenth-Tier Riesritza.”

When I’d first entered Young Master’s service, he’d implanted a mass of power within me that I could barely contain. It had merged with me, even though it wasn’t truly my own strength. Now, finally, I was learning to harness it—at least partially—and to make it truly mine.

You’re my first prey.

The power that had slumbered within me—shifting, evolving, and finally awakening—was none other than the might of the Young Master’s ring.

“First to Fourth Tiers, release,” I intoned. “Wand. Sword. Cup. Coin.”

“Guh!”

“What is this?!”

The bull-headed warrior and his horse-faced companion gasped in unison as my power surged.

It might not have been four times my normal output, but it was close. An alien, turbulent force swirled inside me, amplifying my maximum mana and flooding my entire being with strength.

No matter how many times I experienced this, the sensation was always… unique.

I glanced down at my left hand. Four rings, each dyed a deep crimson, were now fitted snugly onto every skeletal finger, except my pinky.

Power coursed through my entire form.

The effects of the Fourth Tier included magical enhancement, physical reinforcement, mana augmentation, and equipment fortification. All fundamental, reliable boosts that came without significant risk.

Depending on how they handle this, I might push for higher releases, but that would be… messy.

“You two seem eager to prove yourselves in front of your commanding officer,” I sneered. “Let’s see you flail.”

I leveled my staff, and both demi-humans instinctively adopted defensive stances. The next moment, a forest of spears shot up from the floor beneath their feet, the ground itself warped by my magic.

It’s only right to make good use of the support barrier, after all.

“Oh? The horse dodged,” I noted, amused. “The bull… Well, he survived, at least.”

The centaur loosed an arrow skyward, which split mid-flight into dozens of projectiles raining down in a deadly shower.

That technique… reminds me of Aqua.

“Burn to ashes.”

I invoked a spell—a high-powered, three-word incantation that leveraged my unique word-spirit magic to reduce every arrow to gray cinders. This was a new system I’d devised, one that allowed for extremely brief yet overwhelmingly powerful casting—something only possible in this bony state.

Ah, looks like it’s working quite well.

“You cursed spellcaster!”

Now it was the minotaur’s turn to charge. He flew toward me, rage contorting his face.

Still can’t see the difference in our strength?

His war axe swung down at a diagonal arc, a blow that would have cleaved lesser foes in two. I made no effort to block it.

Let’s humor him a bit.

“Impossible!”

The axe stopped dead at my shoulder, failing even to tear my robe. My mana, equipment, and physical abilities had all been heightened.

Against this, there’s no need to defend at all.

“Now then,” I murmured. “It’s my turn.”

I raised my black staff and began to chant. Watching as the two warriors finally registered despair on their faces, I completed the finishing spell.

“Don’t worry,” I assured them. “It won’t hurt. Offer up your lives, and pass on peacefully.”

※※※

“Shiki’s going overboard,” I muttered. “With opponents like that, he could’ve just handled them normally.”

“So, you’ve got time to run your mouth?!” Io roared.

He was on top of me before I could answer, his massive frame pressing the attack. I crossed my arms, catching his punch just in time.

“No,” I replied evenly. “I’m fighting an opponent who’s clearly more skilled than I am at hand-to-hand combat. I can’t afford to be relaxed.”

“Hah! You say that, yet none of my attacks are landing!”

Io’s flurry of strikes came at me like a thunderstorm. I weaved backward, slipping past several blows with a hair’s breadth to spare.

“On the contrary,” I shot back. “You’ve already lost six of your men. Doesn’t that bother you at all?”

The minotaur and centaur had been reduced to ash in an instant. Shiki had decided to go for overkill, unleashing the power from his rings. Judging by the aura I’d felt, it was probably just the four basic levels.

“Every soldier who marched on the royal capital knew what they were getting into,” Io replied coolly. “To pity them would be to insult their sacrifice.”

“Disposable soldiers, huh? What is this, a period drama?”

His answer came in the form of a vicious kick, the kind that shouldn’t have come from a brute his size, yet his movement was as fluid as any martial artist’s. A four-armed giant who fought with such finesse—it was almost surreal. Even I, an otherworlder, could see that his martial arts prowess was leagues beyond the average.

This guy’s an absolute master.

Maybe he was the first “proper big one” I’d met in this world—a giant who wasn’t just a mindless brute. Killing him almost felt like a loss to the world itself.

“You mourn your enemies? Tch. You really are a pain to fight,” Io growled. “But!”

Suddenly, his gauntlets pulsed with mana.

Magic?

I’d paused to observe the shift in his stance, and that hesitation cost me: His fist slammed into my gut, and a burst of flames erupted on impact.

Whoa.

“Elemental weapons, huh? Impressive.”

Weapons imbued with elemental power weren’t something just anyone could wield. Without proper magical training, they’d be useless. And this giant—he could handle them with ease.

Weapons with permanent elemental enchantments were extremely rare (and expensive); no ordinary hyuman blacksmith could produce them. It was almost always more practical to enchant ordinary weapons with magic as needed. That also required less magical skill to maintain.

“Don’t act so calm about it while you’re not even budging from my blows!”

Io’s punches rained down in a relentless barrage. I ducked and weaved, closing the distance with a sudden burst of speed.

He’s huge… If I can get inside his guard, maybe I can cut down his attacks.

Or so I thought. But even in close quarters, his strikes were precise and unpredictable. A dance of raw power and refined technique, each blow executed with perfect timing and balance.

Seeing this kind of mastery from the front row—honestly, it’s exhilarating.

I lashed out with a strike of my own, point-blank.

“Ha! You’ll have to do better than that!”

My punch was deftly avoided at the last second. Even with my enhanced strength and speed, he still managed to slip away.

So even up close isn’t an option.

No choice, then. I retreated, putting some distance between us with a few quick steps—time to reset the field.

“Warning and confirmation,” I said, my voice low. “You have no intention of retreating… do you?”

“Of course not.” Io’s voice was resolute. “And there’s something else I should mention: I don’t intend to drag this fight out any longer than necessary.”

“I see.”

He’s an enemy, after all. No matter how much I respected him, standing across from him on the battlefield meant—

I have to kill him.

Usually, I’d have given more thought to finding another way. But this time, the conclusion came so easily. My mind felt sharper.

Is this some side effect of the Goddess’s forced language acquisition? Or is it something else?

My thoughts settled into a cold, unshakable clarity ideally suited for combat.

It’s… strangely liberating.

“Come at me with everything you’ve got,” Io invited. “Don’t hold back—if you think you can finish this without showing your hand, you’re sorely mistaken.”

He’s right, I admitted. Against him, maybe… No, there’s no need to show everything I’ve got. Even like this, I can kill him. All this talk of fighting at full strength—it’s nonsense.

Io tilted his head, puzzled.

Why did I even think about showing all my cards? For all I know, I might have to fight Hero Hibiki next. There’s no reason to tip my hand here. This is enough.

“You’re holding back too,” I reminded him. “So, let’s keep this interesting.”

I’ll just use the abilities Mio put in this suit.

Extending the fight would corner the demon army either way. I didn’t need to show my true strength. Keeping things controlled and steady was the best play, and it meant Hibiki wouldn’t see my hand either.

That way, I can still protect the hero—and I can relay the warning about Stella Fortress through Rona later. Right… and I should have Shiki help reduce the damage to the city while I’m at it.

He might find a stalling mission a bit boring, but right now, his abilities were perfect for this.

“Larva?” I called. “Seventh—half release.”

Shiki’s adaptability had always impressed me.

His system had limitations—for example, he couldn’t unlock higher abilities without fully activating the first four tiers, and even then, he could only maintain one or two higher tiers at a time. But by switching them out strategically, he could handle nearly any opponent.

Even that flaw could probably be overcome in time—he’d get stronger. Eventually, he might be able to maintain every release at once without strain.

Shiki inclined his head respectfully, acknowledging the command.

All right, I thought—time to fight my way.

If I’m serious about this in this form, then that’s what it means. And even so, I can still kill him.

Io

The grating chant of some foul spell continued, and a baleful power gathered at the lich’s fingertips.

I’d love to disrupt that if I could, I thought, but this one in front of me won’t let that happen. He knew how to move his body well enough, but I could tell he had no real experience with martial arts.

Then again, formal martial disciplines were only really known among the demon races and a handful of demi-humans.

Hyumans generally preferred weapons to hand-to-hand combat. On top of that, they relied on their skills like a crutch. I’d heard that even their goddess’s blessings rarely granted abilities that enhanced unarmed combat.

No wonder martial arts haven’t really taken root among them.

Honestly, to think I’d have to face such an enigma like this, right in the middle of everything. Being a soldier is no walk in the park. I almost miss the days when I could fight freely like a common grunt.

“Is this what you call going all out—letting that lich support you from the back?” I challenged. That’s what I’d guessed he was doing, based on the words he’d exchanged with his subordinate. But his response was unexpected.

“Not at all. I’ve got a pretty good handle on the situation already. I only need him to buy me some time.”

Time? That’s all he wants?

“Hmph! Even with all that power at your disposal, you won’t even bother to fight me seriously. I thought you were the sort who shared our ideals, but I guess I was wrong.”

The more we fought, the more of a disconnect I felt. It was like he was changing every time our fists met—gradually becoming someone else entirely.

At first, I’d sensed a kind of straightforward heat in his punches—a fighting spirit. Now, every strike was cold, mechanical, utterly emotionless. It’s rare to face someone who changes so completely in the middle of a fight.

Looking at him now, I could almost believe he was a golem. And yet…

“Our only objectives are protecting the hero and taking down Stella Fortress,” the white one said flatly. “I don’t care how long this fight lasts. In a situation where I can’t even tell who might become an enemy next, it would be foolish to reveal everything I’m capable of.”

What’s that supposed to mean? I wondered. At the very least, if he achieved his goal, the hero would survive this ordeal. But then—“can’t even tell who might become an enemy next”? Could that mean… he’s considering turning on the hero?

What exactly is he planning?

“From the way you’ve fought so far, I can tell you’re no golem,” I said by way of testing him. “That’s armor you’re wearing—but not just any armor; it’s incredibly high-performance equipment.”

“You’re right,” he answered smoothly. “I’m not a golem. This is armor. Because of how it’s designed, I can’t use magic while I’m wearing it. Something about it being ‘too inelegant,’ supposedly.”

Wait, he’s not even trying to deny it?

I’d never seen or even heard of full-body armor with that kind of durability, but at the very least, it was equipment. And the way he revealed that so casually—I’ll make sure he regrets it.

“Honestly, it doesn’t even suit me that well,” he continued. “If I push too hard with spells, it tends to self-destruct. It’s a real pain.”

“To think someone could complain about receiving such a fine piece of equipment…”

So, it did have limits. No magic usage—meaning for a mage, it would be all but worthless. But for a warrior, it was practically restriction-free.

“Here I come,” he said, his voice steady. “Though fair warning—this one’s a bit over the top. Guess it’s because the standard was set by those post-Heisei series.”

Post-Heisei series? His cryptic remark made me tense instinctively.

Then—despite giving me a proper warning—he suddenly crouched down right in front of me, dropping to one knee.

What’s he doing?

“What are you planning?” I urged.

“Claymore,” he replied as a boxlike object materialized beside his bent leg.

“What?!”

Where the hell did that come from?!

“Wait!” Hibiki’s startled voice rang out from behind him, but it was too late.

Four roughly cylindrical objects launched from the box, streaking toward me. Some kind of projectile?!

They weren’t swift, but without knowing their power, dodging was the best option.

“Guh!”

I leaped aside, narrowly avoiding them—but one of the shots twisted midair, curving right back toward me. The other three also shifted direction, though none of them looked like they’d hit me head-on.

Damn it!

I crossed all four of my arms in front of me, bracing myself. An earsplitting blast ripped through the air, followed by searing heat and a concussive wave that slammed into me all at once.

What is this?! An explosive spell fused into a guided projectile?

Weapons like that—even we demons don’t have anything like that!

“Scissor Hands Knuckle,” the white one muttered. At least, I think that’s what he said; I could barely hear his voice amid the ringing in my ears from the blast.

Before I could regain my balance, a new impact hit me square in the chest—a shock different from the previous explosion.

“You— What did you—”

“Huh. Thought that was your heart,” he remarked, his tone disturbingly casual.

“You… You—!” Rage roared up from deep inside me, and I swung at him with all my strength. He couldn’t dodge in time. My blow landed square, sending him flying sideways with a satisfying thud.

“Hah… hah… hah…” I panted, glancing down at my chest, where two blades were embedded. I tore them out and flung them aside.

What a monster! Even with this hardened black skin, my defense had proven insufficient. He— He actually pierced my hide so easily!

Damn him! I glared at the white one where he’d landed—and found him standing calmly. The scissor-like blades jutting from his gauntlets were half-broken.

“Scissors aren’t very practical,” he muttered, staring at his own weapon with mild dissatisfaction. “Maybe… an anchor? Damn it, Mio’s sense of style is too flashy.”

After finishing his casual monologue, he charged again. But just as my leg was about to meet him in a counterattack, he stopped short, just beyond my reach.

What now?

He thrust out his left arm, and something shot from it.

A projectile?! Then why get this close?!

Either way, at this range and speed, I couldn’t evade… I had to block. My irritation at being forced into a purely reactive defense was mounting. Something slammed into my shoulder, piercing through the gaps in my gauntlet. The impact wasn’t severe, but—

What the hell is this?

A sudden, invisible force yanked me forward—straight toward the white one.

“Ugh—ghaaah!”

I couldn’t resist. My feet lifted from the ground, drawn to him like a puppet. Me—a giant—being dragged like a rag doll by a hyuman-sized foe?!

“Guuuh!”

Suspended in midair, I took his right fist full in the face and was sent flying.

How— How can he do this?!

Even before I landed, he was already leaping after me, pursuing with relentless aggression.

He doesn’t know about my rapid regeneration, I realized. That punch was nasty, but if I focus, I can recover in an instant.

Now!

Even though he was still a fair distance away, he launched himself into the air.

From above this time?

This… This is my chance!

No matter how high you jump, eventually you have to come down. The added force from the fall would increase the power of his strike—but also make him easier to read.

Perfect. The moment he lands, he’s mine.

I timed my spin kick to intercept him at the exact moment of his attack, but—

“Wha—?!”

My foot sliced through empty air. He’d stopped, floating, frozen in place without so much as a hint of magical activation.

A hyuman-sized fighter with no wings—and he can fly?! Who the hell could’ve predicted that?!

“Ah… this is the one. Kick.” The instant he whispered that, he dropped toward me foot-first with an impossible burst of speed.

How much altitude would it even take to hit that velocity?

I twisted, trying to avoid a direct attack—but after that spin kick, my balance was off, and I couldn’t dodge in time. His foot smashed into my side, gouging a chunk of flesh from my ribs.

Pain ripped through me, and I nearly screamed, but my gaze found him again, landing behind me.

Heal! Heal! Heal!

His stance was wide open. If I unleashed the same barrage that I’d used to crush Hibiki, he wouldn’t stand a chance. He was bigger than she was—and heavier.

I can definitely land every blow on him.

I checked my limbs—no problems. Whether my judgment or my feet were faster was a toss-up. My left hand shot out, seizing his neck.

Monster.

I can’t afford to lose here!

Hibiki

The white one launched an attack on Io that looked like something straight out of a tokusatsu commercial. The incredible thing was that it actually seemed to hurt Io. The crowning blow was a midair kick that hovered in place before striking with such force that it carved deep into Io’s stomach.

And yet—Io regenerated within seconds, grabbing the white one by the throat.

Can he really recover that quickly? Even after all the times I fought him, and all the times he healed?! Just how bottomless is his stamina?!

Sure, there were monsters with impressive regeneration, but even they had limits. But Io… It was like he still had power to spare. A chill ran down my spine.

So… to defeat Io, you’d need an even more overwhelming force—a single, decisive blow.

Something I don’t have yet.

Still holding the white one by the neck, the giant swung him in a wide arc and slammed him into the floor.

My instincts screamed in warning. I’d taken that same combo before, and the only reason I’d survived was because I’d managed to resummon Horn in time.

If I hadn’t… I’d be dead right now.

“Hey, Larva… dono?” I called out from inside the barrier, interrupting his chanting. “Your master’s in trouble, you know?”

Since he’d put on those strange rings, his mana had spiked dramatically. The power swirling around him was undeniable.

Even beyond his aura, it was obvious. The variety of spells he wielded, the sheer difference in mana—he was leagues above any other lich I’d ever faced.

When he’d first summoned that scythe, I’d thought he was just a stronger-than-average lich. But now—

“Same answer as before,” Larva replied coolly, not even looking my way. “My master is not the type to require assistance from something like me over a mere trifle. Don’t assume he thinks the same way as you—someone who believes every problem can be solved by working together.”

Ouch, that stings. “I was just trying to offer a friendly suggestion,” I muttered.

“Unnecessary. Instead, focus on that brazen outfit of yours. If you wish to keep from distracting my master with your indecency, you’d do well to find something more appropriate to wear.”

“Wha—?! You’re the one who told me to stay inside this barrier, and now you’re criticizing my clothes?!”

“Hmm. Very well. I shall procure something suitable. Stand by.”

“Wait.”

“Seventh Tier, ‘Hell’—half release. Equipping and activating.”

What?!

A suffocating, nauseating pressure spread through the air around me. The barrier remained unchanged, but from the edges of the audience chamber, a misty substance began to seep in.

The feeling of that oppressive presence wasn’t confined to the audience chamber. The whole castle?

Did he really just cast a spell that massive?

“Just the outer wall should be enough,” Larva mused calmly. “Although handling mist is usually her specialty, it would offend her to find me using it. But now, at least, I can use it freely. Go, Mist Shrine Niflheim. Bring forth weakness.”

Outer wall— Wait, the city’s?!

A black ring slipped onto Larva’s previously bare pinky, and he nodded in satisfaction.

“Wait, what did you do to the outer wall?!” I demanded.

“I’ve wrapped this city in a mist of debilitation,” he replied. “You should be grateful—my master ordered me to hold back and merely weaken, not kill.”

Half release, I realized. A spell that affects such a vast area—if he’s only using it to weaken, then at full power it would be catastrophic. In this world, individual strength could easily surpass entire armies, so concepts like numbers and conventional tactics didn’t apply the same way they would in my own world.

Larva… is definitely operating on a strategic level.

Mio-san, too—these independent operators are just too strong.

“Now then,” he continued nonchalantly, “I’ll go find something to cover your scandalous attire.”

As Larva said that, I heard the heavy thud of something falling. Right—the white one.

When I turned to look, he was being thoroughly beaten to a pulp. A storm of punches, kicks, and even elemental synergy from Io’s gauntlets—combining attributes in a chain reaction. It wasn’t precisely the Five Elements theory, but the way Io channeled power from wind to fire, fire to earth, and earth to water enhanced the destructive force of each attack.

There’s no loop back from water to wind, I noted. So, there’s probably some unknown element hiding in that gap—but I have no clue what it is.

Io was using this synergy to escalate his combos, boosting the power of each hit beyond the last. I hadn’t seen every blow, but from the timing, I guessed he’d even managed more hits than he’d landed on me.

That white one… Is he even alive after all that?

My worry turned out to be completely unfounded. Just as Larva had implied, the white one—flat on his stomach, half-buried in the floor—pushed himself up, cracking his neck like it was nothing.

Seriously… everything about him is insane.

Ah, but he did stagger a bit. So… maybe it’s not completely ineffective after all.

“Master, would you permit me to fetch something for the hero to wear?” Larva asked.

The fact that he didn’t even glance at his master, despite the beating he’d just taken, made me wonder just what kind of relationship they had. And not just the relationship itself—did the word “master” even mean the same thing to them?

“Ah, yeah, sure. Go ahead,” the white one said with a wry grin. “Ow… that hurt. He even mixed in some armor-piercing strikes. That was rough.”

Armor-piercing… that’s like that hakkei technique, isn’t it? A focused strike that penetrates armor, transferring damage inside. I can’t believe even that exists in this world.

Maybe things like this existed in Japan too, but hearing it explained so casually here felt… new.

“Master, I thought it wasn’t serious enough to warrant comment,” Larva said. His voice and even his posture, his bowed head, were so… respectful—so different from how he spoke to me.

“What do you mean?” the white one asked.

“Sometimes, when one becomes too immersed in battle, it can lead to… undesirable outcomes,” Larva explained. “If you could keep your companions in mind, even just in the corner of your thoughts, it might prevent any excesses.”

“I understand. I’ll be more careful,” the white one replied.

“Then, please excuse me,” Larva said, bowing once more before turning away.

Just who is this man to have a lich like Larva serving him so obediently?

He couldn’t be from Gritonia. And if he were from Lorel, Chiya would probably know. That left Aion—though the only part of Aion I’d been to was Tsige, so I didn’t really know what the country was like.

Still, if they had monsters like that at their disposal, wouldn’t they have sent them to the front lines by now?

His Majesty did mention that Aion’s been especially concerned about losing influence lately.

“Yeah… maybe it would be better to have something to wear,” the white one muttered. “Getting too absorbed, huh?”

When I looked up, I found him staring at me—his eyes intense and unwavering.

“Hey,” I said impulsively, “at least tell me your name.”

I’d taken a chance, and it paid off—he understood my words, and I could understand his.

“…”

Nothing.

He turned his back to me and returned to his fight with Io without a word.

More mysterious than Io himself.

Trusting my life to someone like this, someone I knew so little about, left a cold, unsettled feeling in my gut.

※※※

An odd hush had settled over the audience chamber that was now a battlefield.

Facing off against the four-armed Demon General Io was Makoto, clad in his white suit.

Behind Makoto, Shiki had spread a barrier—an intricate lattice of spells protecting those within. Inside it, Shiki himself, now in his lich form, stood calmly, each finger on his left hand adorned with a ring.

Near Shiki, Hibiki stood wrapped in the oversized cloak Shiki had conjured from somewhere. Her wounds from the earlier battle with Io had been healed, yet Shiki’s watchful glare kept her rooted to the spot.

If I’m being honest with myself, she thought, I’d rather be out in the city, driving back the demon army rampaging through the streets.

For Hibiki, every moment this battle dragged on was a moment too long.

Meanwhile, Io regarded Makoto with an expression that straddled the line between exasperation and wariness.

“To come through that unscathed,” he muttered. “Honestly, I’m starting to think you might be a Greater Dragon or a spirit in disguise. At times, it feels like I’m fighting more than one of you. You’re an enigma.”

He’d sensed Makoto returning to the straightforward presence he’d had at the start of their fight. But whether that earlier transformation had been his true nature or not—Io couldn’t quite tell.

Not in this short span of time.

“I’m not unscathed,” Makoto replied, although his tone was casual. “That really hurt, actually. You fight like a monster—strong enough to move like that, plus regeneration? That’s just insane.”

“Hmph,” Io scoffed. “In any other place, under any other circumstances, I wouldn’t mind enjoying this battle. But here…”

He drew in a deep breath.

Then—

“Woooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!”

Io’s earth-shattering roar reverberated across the chamber like a rolling thunderclap.

Was it rage or a war cry? The sheer force of it made Shiki’s robe billow, and the sound was so deafening that Hibiki and the others instinctively clamped their hands over their ears.

Yet Makoto and Shiki remained unfazed, not even attempting to shield themselves.

“What was that?” Makoto asked, tilting his head. “Is that his way of saying the real fight starts now?”

“No,” Io answered. “All I did was declare myself an incompetent commander. By now, even the ones who couldn’t hear me should have gotten the telepathic message.”

Makoto noticed that Io’s expression seemed different than before—more solemn, perhaps.

“?”

“I entrusted ‘something’ to the most capable of the soldiers who took part in this assault,” Io explained. “It took considerable effort from my fellow demon generals to gather it all.”

Makoto listened in silence.

“That roar was the signal to use it,” Io went on. “Some of them might have already triggered it by now. The term you used earlier… yes, ‘death soldiers.’ I ordered them to become that, in the most literal sense.”

“Ordered? But they were already giving everything they had…”

“No. The hidden potential of living beings runs deeper than you’d think,” Io said, a distant look in his eyes and a hint of respect in his voice. “A white woman once taught me that—a friend of the hero’s.”

A friend of Hibiki’s, but one I’ve never met… Makoto mused.

“You’ve changed,” he observed. “And you’re referring to yourself with ‘I³’ now?”

“There’s no point in putting on a front anymore,” Io replied. “I’m no longer acting as a general, so why bother with appearances? It doesn’t change who I am as a soldier.”

“What’s that?” Makoto asked, his gaze landing on the small blue lump Io had produced seemingly out of nowhere.

The thing was a work of art, an intricately crafted miniature rose. From a distance, Hibiki’s eyes widened in alarm. She wasn’t alone—everyone within Shiki’s barrier reacted with a collective gasp, their tension spiking.

Io only smiled thinly. He would let Shiki be the one to reveal the rose’s true nature—and the danger it posed.

“Master! That’s a Rose Sign,” Shiki’s voice rang out, his tone urgent. “It’s a power-enhancing item, also known as the Elixir of Strength—or the Soul Eater. It devours the user’s very soul in exchange for granting overwhelming power! Normally, it’s brown, so that color means it’s been modified in some way.”

“Heh, impressive as always, lich,” Io replied calmly, utterly unfazed at having his secret exposed. “You’re well-versed in these things.”

If Io could have seen behind Makoto’s opaque white helmet, he would have noticed a frown on his face.

“You gave those to your subordinates, too?”

Io didn’t flinch. “It was always going to be a fight they couldn’t come back from. It would’ve been too dangerous to leave something like that in the hands of hyumans, so I collected them before the battle.” He gave a small, humorless chuckle. “Fortunately, they take time to refine, so I only managed to gather a few. I’m glad of that now—fewer to unleash. Still, I never imagined I’d give the order to use them.”

He raised the blue rose fragment, his voice dropping. “Now… let’s see how Rona’s modifications hold up. She ordered me to make it back alive, but… it wouldn’t sit right for me to let my soldiers use them and then walk away unscathed. Rejoice, white one—you pose a great enough threat to make me draw on this power.”

“…”

Makoto stayed silent as Io crushed the blue fragment in his massive fist, the shards falling like grains of sand. At once, an overwhelming, almost tangible force flooded from his arms and spread across his entire body, tension charging the air.

“Guh… incredible,” Io grunted, voice trembling with a blend of pain and awe. “This power… It’s staggering. Come then, white one—let’s see if you can handle it!”

“Io,” Makoto said quietly, his voice cutting through the charged air. “I’m sorry—but your soldiers… they can’t fight anymore. Larva’s magic has weakened them too much.”

“Hyumans too, I suppose,” Io retorted, a wry grin tugging at his lips. “Even so, I’ve kept a fair handle on the battlefield situation. A general who can’t coordinate mid-battle isn’t fit to lead. But for the entire capital to be targeted—that’s impressive. If we’d had that power, we’d have slain Hibiki before you ever arrived.”

“Telepathy, huh? A bit of a sore point for me. Io, do you even understand what you’re ordering your men to do with those items?”

“Of course I do. The surge of power will let them stand again—and in that state, they’ll slaughter every hyuman they find. We demons don’t rape or pillage. But we do kill. Every man, woman, and child, until the last breath leaves their bodies. If you wish to stop them, leave this place. I still have a duty to slay the hero. I won’t chase you.”

As the capital city—quiet for a moment after the initial clash—roared back into chaos, Makoto grasped the situation at once.

“If every single soldier attacking this place is fighting with the belief that only victory matters… then they truly are a threat. Glad to hear it,” Io said. “Demon General Io—engaging!”

Makoto felt his mind slipping toward that battle-hungry state again, but he reined it in just enough to stay in control. Bracing himself, he charged at Io.

Yet even as the clash between those two titans began, Io’s words struck a deep chord in someone else.

Hibiki.

The knowledge that the people she’d sworn to protect—her companions, the very citizens she’d come to care for—were now marked for slaughter by the Rose Sign-fueled demon army was too much to bear.

She remembered. When her comrade Navarre had faced Io, he’d given his life in battle. And he’d used that very same cursed item.

Unforgivable.

“Don’t you dare!” she spat, fury blazing in her eyes. “I won’t stand by and watch you massacre innocent people. If he’s holding Io back—then we’ll take the city!”

She surged to her feet, her cloak falling from her shoulders and baring her skin in her combat attire.

At her call, the rest of her party rose as one.

Hibiki was a woman who could see the bigger picture of hyuman lives—and she fully understood the value others placed on her. Because of that, she’d been prepared to accept the temporary abandonment of the capital and the casualties it might bring. She’d been ready to endure that price, even though Io’s sudden assault had blocked any chance of an organized retreat.

But these deaths—they were different.

This was a massacre she could prevent.

With the white one holding Io at bay, it was entirely possible for them to take on the demon-soldiers-turned-death-troops. Even against enemies empowered by the Rose Sign, Hibiki and her companions had recovered enough to fight. There was no reason to sit idle in this chamber any longer.

Fueled by pure determination, Hibiki and her party moved toward the chamber’s exit… but that’s when they noticed something.

The barrier was still up, preventing them from leaving.

“We can’t get out?” Hibiki’s voice trembled with frustration. “Larva-dono, open this barrier! We have to secure the cap—”

“Denied,” Larva interrupted coolly. “Honestly… it was the right call to keep you trapped here. I told you at the start, didn’t I? My mission is to protect the hero. That doesn’t include guaranteeing your freedom.”

“Io’s occupied with your master!” Hibiki snapped, her voice sharp. “As much as I hate to admit it, he’s stronger than I am right now. I can see that with my own eyes. But then—I don’t need to be here! I’m the hero! There’s something I need to do right now!”

“Foolish.”

“Larva-dono. Listen to me—I have a real chance to win this. Io can’t come after me. That white guy will hold him back for a while. And with your help, we’d be unstoppable. We know this city like the back of our hands. We won’t die. We can wipe out the demon army threatening the capital!”

“I don’t care about your plans,” Larva replied coldly. “What I meant by foolish was that it’s foolish for you to defy me. Here’s what I’ll say: At least try to break through this barrier on your own. I modeled it after a fairly strong one known as Cocytus Something-Or-Other. Not quite as powerful as the original, but close enough. If you can’t even manage that, what hope do you have of saving anyone?”

He let the weight of his words settle, making it clear he had no intention of granting her wish.

“So, you’re not threatening to unleash the mist’s full power if I resist,” Hibiki retorted, her voice trembling with indignation. “Fine—so you’re saying if I can break this barrier, you won’t stop me from going into the city, right?”

“My master ordered me to keep it at half release,” Larva replied smoothly. “I can’t act on my own whims. I won’t promise to let you through—but I’ll at least consider it.”

“Consider it, huh… It makes me sick to think I’m stuck playing by your rules. But fine. I’ll do it. Just so you know, my attacks are no joke.”

“Do as you wish.”

Larva’s attention returned to the battle between Makoto and Io. Even if Hibiki managed to break the barrier, he’d create another. He had no intention of granting her freedom—“considering it” was just lip service.

More pressing than Hibiki’s defiance, though, was Io himself.

As far as Shiki knew, the Rose Sign wasn’t supposed to grant such overwhelming power. Its usual effect of consuming the user’s soul was relatively slow—a steady drain rather than a sudden torrent. The fact that Io now wielded such force was proof enough that the item had indeed been modified.

Ever since Io had activated the Rose Sign, Makoto had been on the defensive. He managed occasional counterattacks, but to the casual eye, he seemed to be on the back foot.

Not that there’s any need to worry, Shiki mused. His defenses are practically impenetrable.

From Shiki’s perspective, his master—Makoto—was too sturdy.

Even now, fighting while hidden behind that armored suit, Makoto still took hits directly, but Shiki knew that in a fair fight, Io wouldn’t even be able to touch him.

Hence why he could follow his orders and watch Makoto’s battle in peace.

Shiki himself had plenty of strength left in reserve. Should the worst happen, he was confident in his skills as a healer. Whatever happened here, Makoto’s life would never be in danger.

Most people who rely on armor for their defense tend to crumble under a direct hit, Shiki reflected. But my Young Master is different. His pain tolerance alone is incredible. If his opponent were fast enough to become a blur, I’d widen the range of my spells and strike him down. But against someone who can endure any attack thrown at them—well, even I wouldn’t know how to bring him down. That demon general—he’s practically seeing hell before he’s even dead. Almost makes me feel sorry for him.

Silently, Shiki stood and observed the ongoing clash between Io and Makoto. Of course, he’d prepared several spells in case Io decided to break through and attack him directly.

He was ready for anything.

Once or twice, Shiki sensed bursts of power behind him, but he didn’t even bother to look. He had already gauged the scale of Hibiki’s attempts and knew they weren’t enough to break his barrier.

Then a massive surge of power rose behind him, catching his attention just enough to make him tilt his head slightly.

A single, desperate slash at the barrier, accompanied by Hibiki’s defiant scream—but the attack failed to breach it.

“More… I need more strength… I can still—!”

Muttering feverishly like a woman possessed, Hibiki collapsed in exhaustion.

If she’s lost consciousness, Shiki thought, then at least she’ll stay quiet.

His interest in her vanished as quickly as it had come.

※※※

“Where… is this?” Hibiki glanced around, taking in her surroundings.

She was adrift in a vast sea of stars—neither falling nor floating, suspended in a place that defied the laws of gravity.

Even she was surprised to realize that she felt no panic. She stayed completely logical and vigilant as she tried to grasp the situation.

It’s kind of like when the Goddess called me… but something’s different, she thought.

The closest experience she could recall was that moment when the Goddess had summoned her from Japan.

Even so, something felt off.

Hibiki had learned to trust her gut. That intuition had helped her hold her own against Io, had guided her in mastering the true potential of the Silver Sash and the sword she’d received from elder dwarf Beren.

“Welcome, welcome, traveler between worlds,” came a voice in her head—just like the one she’d heard from the Goddess.

“Who are you?”

“If you’re asking for a name, I can’t help you there,” the voice replied, airy and almost casual. “I have none. After all, we’ll only meet here this once. No need to dwell on it.”

Hibiki drew in a sharp breath, but she felt her confusion dissipate as she took in the words.

“I’m grateful you pulled me out of that barrier. But if you have business with me, can’t it wait? I have something I need to do. Send me back to the capital.”

“Don’t be hasty. Your body is still inside that barrier. Only your mind is here. Besides, time here passes differently. In the real world, not even an instant will have passed.”

“An instant… So, I’ll get back at the same time as I left?”

“Exactly.” Hibiki thought she could hear a hint of amusement in the voice. “Now then, let’s continue. You—Hibiki Otonashi, visitor from the original world.”

Hibiki stiffened. How does this person know who I am? Her caution spiked, tension winding through her chest.

“So, you know I’m a hero?” Hibiki asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Of course I do,” the voice replied smoothly. “You, and the other one—Tomoki Iwahashi. Both chosen by the Goddess; both burdened with the role of hero.”

“You even know about him?”

“Ah, yes. He’s already been here.” The voice seemed to catch itself. “But enough about him. What matters now is what you need to know.”

Hibiki’s eyes narrowed further. Was that slip intentional or a genuine mistake?

In a situation where she knew so little, it was impossible to say whether rattling this voice was going to benefit her or not.

“What I need to know?”

“That’s right. You’ve earned the right—the qualification, if you will. To receive the ‘perk’ granted to those who have traveled between worlds.”

“Qualification?”

“Yes. It’s not a particularly difficult thing to achieve, but many who transfer here die without ever reaching this place. Broadly speaking, the key is having a strong will directed at yourself—an unshakable focus, a powerful longing. Whether it’s positive or negative doesn’t matter.”

“Positive or negative? I don’t understand.”

“Love or hatred. Admiration or jealousy. Anything like that… Huh. For some reason, I feel compelled to share more than I should with you.”

“…”

“Well, it’s not really important what the conditions are. Let’s move on. I’m going to ask you a few questions.”

“So, you brought me here to quiz me?”

“No,” the voice replied, and now its amusement was obvious. “These are questions without any right answer—more like riddles with no solutions. You know the kind. ‘Both could be right,’ or ‘There’s no one answer.’ That kind of thing. Depending on your answers, the perk you receive will change.”

“Will this… perk make me stronger?”

“That depends on your potential. But the answer is yes. Now then—let’s begin. I wonder what color your result will be… I’m looking forward to it.”

How many questions had she answered?

If you had to kill someone to save a friend, would you do it? And if so, who would you kill?

Two people teeter on the edge of a tall cliff—your beloved holding your left hand, your elderly mother in your right. If you could only save one, whose hand would you let go?

Which is more human: obeying the law or following your feelings?

If it’s for justice, is it acceptable to break an unjust law?

The endless stream of unanswerable questions weighed heavily on Hibiki’s mind, stirring a frustration she couldn’t quite contain.

“Well done,” the voice finally said, its tone light and teasing. “Hee hee… Hibiki, your results are in.”

“Just tell me already,” she snapped. “Even if time isn’t moving out there, I still feel like I’m running out of it. You mentioned colors—so, what is it?”

“Yes, yes.” The voice paused dramatically. “Hibiki Otonashi, your color is… black.”

“Black?”

Hibiki didn’t know what to think. Black wasn’t a color she’d ever associated with herself.

Yes, it was a sophisticated color, but it carried negative connotations too—shadow, secrecy, guilt, all of it unpleasant. Even in her wardrobe, she rarely wore anything that was purely black.

“That’s right—black,” the voice confirmed, almost reverently. “One of the highest-ranked colors.”

“Highest-ranked… So that’s good, right?”

“Oh, absolutely. Tomoki received the same result. The children summoned this time really are exceptional.”

At that, Hibiki’s face darkened. She hated being compared to Tomoki—lumped in with him as if, just because they came from the same place, they were the same.

“So, what does black actually do for me?”

“Black is a color the gods themselves can never attain. Only humans—and even then, very, very rarely—can they claim it. Its other name… Arayuru-iro, the color of all colors. Attack, defense, support, healing, summoning, and more. There’s almost nothing it can’t do.”

“All colors…” she whispered.

“Now then, Hibiki. Let’s craft your ability. Just start throwing out ideas. I’ll tell you the price for each one, and you can decide from there. That’s the privilege of a world traveler.”

Then the voice paused, as if remembering something. “Ah, that’s right—one small caveat. You can’t create a power that overlaps with the same category already chosen within the current time axis. I might have let that slip earlier, but the other hero has already claimed the ‘offensive’ slot. So, you can’t choose that one… Although you could still cheat a little by summoning stars or something and turning them into attacks.”

“Then… what about the power to conquer the world?” Hibiki asked, her tone sharp.

“Of course, that’s possible. Let’s see… the price for that would be all your magic power—and eighty percent of the world’s population. You wouldn’t get to pick who survived, but you’d definitely make it through.”

“No thanks.”

“Oh? But that would definitely end the war. I can’t say what that goddess of yours would think, but she couldn’t punish you… Ah, whoops, I’ve said too much again.”

“Could you be quiet for a minute?”

Hibiki fell silent, thinking.

So, Tomoki had claimed the offensive slot. That meant he now possessed a ridiculous amount of offensive power.

Then… should I choose a defensive spell to counter him? No… that wouldn’t help me break Larva’s barrier. What about healing? Useful, yes, but it won’t save the capital if I can’t act. Summoning stars—well, like it said, that’s basically an attack, so that’s an option, I guess…

The choices laid out before her were so numerous and so vague that Hibiki felt paralyzed by indecision. Then it hit her. This voice had never said what wasn’t possible. That felt suspicious somehow.

“You won’t tell me what’s off-limits, except that I can’t choose offense?” she demanded.

“Hee hee. That’s right. I can’t. You have to choose the power that calls to you from within yourself. That’s part of the rules. Not many people ask that, you know. You’re a clever one.”

“Hey…” Hibiki’s voice dropped to a murmur. “Can I… go back in time?”

It wasn’t a power that would save the capital right now, but it could be a way to undo everything—to start over from the beginning.

“Ahh, time travel?” Hibiki thought she could hear the voice smiling. “It’s possible. But if you want to travel back in time within the same timeline, the cost is steep. It’d be more practical to narrow the scope of your wish.”

“Same timeline… so, you’re saying that going back exactly as I am now would carry a high price,” Hibiki muttered. “What if I limited the number of times I could use it? And going to the past of a different world—that wouldn’t do me any good.”

“It wouldn’t be meaningless,” the voice corrected gently. “Parallel worlds are still worlds. Thanks to two different humans being summoned into that world, there’s now an enormous number of parallel possibilities branching from it. Think of it this way: Your world is wherever you believe it to be. Testing different outcomes in different worlds could be interesting too, don’t you think? Maybe you could find a world where the capital never fell.”

It sounded almost like the voice was encouraging her to try time travel—and that set off alarm bells in Hibiki’s mind.

“What would the price be, then?” she asked warily.

“If you go back in time within the same world’s timeline, you’d only get one shot at it—and you’d die at thirty.”

Her brows furrowed. “That’s insane.”

“Ahaha,” the voice laughed lightly. “There’s a loophole, though. If you give up being human and become a race with no lifespan—one that doesn’t age or die—then the penalty disappears. Normally, only humans with the Black classification can even use time-based powers, but once you leave here, nothing’s stopping you from discarding your humanity.”

“How very helpful,” Hibiki replied, rolling her eyes. “So basically, redoing things is more or less impossible.”

“Well, time travel was never really meant as a ‘retry’ button—it’s more like a ‘return.’ If you’re looking for a classic loop, you could focus on parallel worlds instead. Lower risk, easier reward.”

“You want me to take a time-based power, don’t you?” she asked, her suspicion sharpening.

“I’m just answering your questions. I don’t have ulterior motives.”

If possible, Hibiki thought grimly, I want something I can use over and over, with a small price. Something that can break this stalemate…

She fell silent, lost in thought. The voice, too, stayed quiet—waiting for her to decide.

“What about dispelling magic?” she finally asked. “Something that can erase any spell—does that exist?”

“Ugh,” the voice replied with a theatrical sigh. “That’s such a boring ability. But yes, it’s possible. The cost would only be your own magic power. Let’s see… with your current reserves, you could probably use it five or six times.”

“So… no permanent price, then?”

“That’s right. But dispelling magic, you know—someone over there already has that.” The voice dropped that revelation with almost casual indifference.

“What?!” Hibiki’s voice cracked with shock.

“The boy fighting the giant—he’s already able to use dispel magic. It’s a power that, given enough training, anyone could develop in time. Don’t you think it’s a bit boring to pick something so… ordinary? Especially after getting a result as rare as Black.”

“That guy in white—he can do that too?!” Hibiki’s shock turned to outright disbelief.

“Why not ask him? Maybe he’d grant your request.”

“Wait a second. Him? You know who he is? Don’t tell me he got that transformation kit from this place too?!”

“Bwahaha! No one’s ever asked for something so… outlandish in here! And as for knowing him, well, sure—I know of him. He’s human, after all. Whether he’d actually come here, though… that’s unlikely.”

“If you know him, then can’t you talk to him?! Wait. You said he might listen to me. That means—”

“Sorry, but I’m not a friend of his. I just know about him. And no—I can’t meddle that far. That’s the end of that. Hibiki—choose your power.”

“You’re the one who brought it up!” she snapped.

Silence fell, thick as a suffocating fog. Hibiki clenched her fists, her mind whirling.

“If that’s the case… then…”

※※※

“Pity.” The voice echoed, disappointed, in the empty space. “She didn’t choose time manipulation after all.”

Hibiki was gone, but the voice remained, drifting in the vastness with no physical presence.

“Still, she crafted an ability fit for a true hero,” it mused. “A constantly active one at that. She’ll convert the thoughts directed at her—admiration, hatred, whatever—into her own power—charismatic girl, that one. I wonder how big she’ll grow. The price was only a reduction in her maximum mana, but she’ll regain that soon enough.”

Hibiki’s instincts had been right. Though she’d only suspected it, the voice had indeed wanted her to pick time manipulation—a power that would have shattered the balance and created countless parallel worlds.

“With so many worlds exploding into existence, I’d never be bored,” the voice continued. “Ah, well, guess it’s time to move on… Still, just by existing, humans become the perfect wedges for limiting divine interference. That alone makes them worthwhile.”

The voice’s final murmur faded into the void, tinged with a regretful smile that no one could see.

※※※

“What in the hell…” Though his expression was unreadable, shock tinged Shiki’s voice.

“I broke it, Larva! Now let me through!”

With a single, overwhelming slash, Hibiki had shattered the barrier.

“She’s like a different person,” Shiki marveled aloud. He’d turned back to look at her upon sensing an inexplicable surge in her power. “Is this the power of a hero too?”

“That’s a secret,” Hibiki replied with a sly smile. “You planning on stopping me?”

“It is the Master’s command, after all. Hm…”

Shiki’s words trailed off as his gaze shifted away from Hibiki’s eyes with their fierce determination—and focused on something unseen. It looked as if he were contemplating a particular patch of ceiling.

“Thanks for the opening!”

Hibiki and her party seized that fleeting moment to sprint out of the audience chamber.

“No—wait! Something’s coming! Master!” Shiki clicked his tongue in frustration, his voice sharp as he warned both Hibiki and Makoto.

Makoto, although locked in a ferocious clash with the glowing Io, reacted instantly—trying to put some distance between himself and the magic-enhanced giant. But Io was relentless; he wouldn’t let him slip away.

In the next heartbeat, Makoto was engulfed by a whirlwind of multicolored fists and kicks.

“Larva! Go with them—stay with the hero! I’m counting on you to protect them… Tch. Can’t believe you’d show up here, now of all times… Sofia!”

Even under the onslaught of Io’s rapid strikes, Makoto’s voice remained steady. He knew who was approaching. It was the strongest opponent he had ever faced—the one who’d once come at him with the most lethal hostility and the deepest malice.

He could feel the battle turning against him.

“They’re up to something! Stay alert!” Makoto shouted to Shiki.

“Yes, Master… I won’t let them see this. If necessary, please—remove that.”

“Right. That’s probably what’ll happen.”

Shiki activated his magic, teleporting to join Hibiki’s group.

“Don’t look away!” Io roared, driving another heavy punch into Makoto’s chest. “Your opponent is me! Or did you think I’d let you chase after Hibiki?!”

“Damn it—can’t you wait until after winter to settle this?!” Makoto replied.

“Don’t talk like you know war, you naive fool! If I could ignore the threat you pose, trust me, I would!”

Io’s punch landed with a resounding crack, the white suit groaning under the impact. Makoto met the blow head-on, shifting his focus from detection to reinforcement mode.

Next, he pushed back with a powerful punch of his own, creating a brief gap between them once more.

He knew that as long as he could stall for time, victory was assured. Io might land hits, but he would never be able to kill him. On the other hand, Makoto also knew that without using magic, he lacked the finishing blow to end the fight.

Remembering Shiki’s warning, he fought carefully, determined not to lose himself in the battle. Ideally, he would avoid killing Io outright—he hadn’t reached the point of cold, immediate lethality yet.

With more enemies appearing, that might change. Shiki’s willingness to let him remove the suit—so he could finally tap into magic—was a mercy Makoto appreciated.

After all, the suit’s direct combat enhancement wasn’t much use anymore. It concealed his identity, and that was it. That was why he’d let Hibiki go. With Shiki watching over her, he felt confident she’d be safe.

Makoto harbored a strange certainty: Sofia would target him.

A bitter scowl creased his face as he glanced upward. In the same instant, countless blades of light and radiant beams rained down on the royal capital.

Light and explosions.

It looked as if the Kingdom of Limia itself was about to be annihilated.

Chapter 5

Man, I envy people with the kind of toughness that lets them regenerate from anything.

The storm of destruction had finally passed, leaving an eerie silence in the audience chamber. What had once been a grand hall now resembled a precarious floating platform—a sort of “sky audience chamber.”

I let my body relax from the defensive stance I’d kept, waiting for those falling blades of light from the sky. Of course, Io recovered faster than I did and came at me with all four of his fists in a brutal combination.

“Your recovery speed rivals my own right now,” he shouted, his eyes blazing. “To think you didn’t even need to regenerate—ridiculous!”

His strikes slammed into my chest; each one delivered in that armor-piercing style that rattled my suit and stole my breath. The impact sent me flying, crashing through several support pillars.

God, that hurts.

For a second, I considered deactivating my transformation—maybe ditch the effect from that self-sacrificing hero’s item. But then I remembered—Mio’s insane attention to detail had included a few… interesting features in this absurd transformation suit.

Inside my helmet, a semitransparent, futuristic 3D manual hovered in my field of vision—complete with an over-the-top HUD that looked like something out of a sci-fi movie.

At the very bottom of the special moves list, marked with a spider emblem, one entry caught my eye:

Forced Transformation Cancel: Spell Break.

According to Mio’s note, it was recommended for dealing with enemy heroes who pulled the same transformation nonsense. “But just so you know, if you use it, you’ll be classified as a dark hero,” she’d written. Yeah, I could ignore that.

I checked the details—sure enough, it was specialized dispelling magic designed to forcibly strip away an opponent’s transformation.

Magic would’ve been easier, but with Io and Rona’s connection… Better to keep the suit on, I guess.

I needed to make contact with my opponent for it to work, which wouldn’t be a problem. He always came to me. I simply have to wait—he’ll close the distance himself.

Io narrowed his eyes. “That armor of yours isn’t just for show, huh? Even with all that strengthening magic, you don’t seem hyuman.”

I lifted my head, letting a hint of a grin play at my lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But with all this chaos, you’re still targeting me? What about the hero?”

“My troops are mostly silent now. Better to deal with you than to try finding the hero in this mess. Luckily, I’ve still got a few hours left.”

“That attack that hit us—those were your allies, weren’t they? Care to explain?”

“Oh? You know about them? Then you should know that they’d never let themselves be leashed. They merely happen to be heading this way, that’s all.”

I see. I didn’t let the thought linger.

Io’s voice hardened as he cocked his head. “So? That stance of yours—what’s next?”

I straightened, shifting into a half-stance with deliberate calm, raising my right hand high and pointing my knife hand at him. “Guess you’ll just have to find out.”

Focusing, I searched for the core of the spell, weaving light particles around his body—power drawn from his soul. Mio’s note said to find the enemy’s weak point with the mind’s eye or something like that… but who knew what that meant?

I expanded my Realm outward, creating a diameter that included both me and Io, tracing the flow of his energy. I’d instinctively switched to defensive mode during that last barrage of light blades, but now I could switch back just as quickly thanks to all the training.

All right. Right shoulder—near the base.

Io roared with a savage grin. “Then let’s see it!”

His massive frame exploded toward me with terrifying speed. Big guys are threats on that alone. All that weight is a weapon. And if that bulk is all muscle? Even more dangerous.

A giant trained in martial arts would be unstoppable for a human. Big, fast, and tough. Thank god I never met one of these back in Japan.

Io’s acceleration was incredible, but I still had a few precious moments. Stay calm—aim carefully.

Then, suddenly, Io kicked off the ground, leaping high into the air.

I couldn’t help but gasp.

This isn’t good! I forced myself to keep my cool. That icy focus I felt in our earlier fights—slip into that without going too deep… I’ll take a trade of blows. Now’s the time to strip him of his greatest weapon.

His first move—a downward heel drop. The damage would be rough, but I could avoid getting my stance broken. With my half-stance, dodging was easy. I leaned back just enough. Success. No opening as he landed.

Io came at me with both arms, aiming to grab my head. This is it!

“Spell Break,” I whispered.

His eyes widened.

Bringing my right hand down in a sharp diagonal slash, I carved into Io’s right shoulder. Just as I’d hoped, that shoulder held the concentration point for the Rose Sign’s power, and my strike landed perfectly.

Io didn’t stop. He grabbed my head and slammed me into the ground. A flurry of punches followed—less than ten, but each one brutal.

I gritted my teeth. Still, this was nothing I couldn’t handle. The suit strained under the onslaught, but it didn’t break. Even if I took a few hits, destroying his best weapon first would make the rest of this fight a lot easier.

The blows I’d endured provided a return greater than their cost. I tried to stand, but before I could, a kick flew straight at my face. I stepped forward, meeting Io’s kick with my own.

“Fuuu…” I exhaled deeply, forcing myself to breathe as deeply as possible. I can’t let myself slip any further into that cold place. Gotta come back.

Io stood firm where he was. The spot I’d cut had already healed—of course. His regeneration was as monstrous as ever. But this time, the raging light that had danced across his body was gone.

“What did you do?” he demanded.

I met his gaze evenly. “I destroyed that Rose Sign thing.”

“Destroyed it?!”

“Yeah. Destroyed it. The strength it gave you is gone now. It’s not coming back.”

“Impossible. That’s… that’s absurd!”

His shock radiated off him like a heat haze.

“That sort of item—there’s no way you have spares. So, are you still up for fighting?” I let my eyes roam the broken chamber.

Io, Sofia, and Lancer. I don’t want to fight all three at once. That’s a sure way to turn this place into a wasteland. Not that it isn’t halfway there already.

Even if someone asked me if this castle could be used again, I’d have to say no. It’ll need some serious repairs—Neo Limia Castle, coming soon, huh?

The rain of light swords and explosions had already marked the end of Limia’s capital as a city. Limia would have to abandon this place and establish a new capital or at least shift its center of governance elsewhere.

At a minimum, the demon army bought itself two or three years against Limia.

I don’t know how badly they hit Gritonia, but even if they handed over Stella, this surprise attack alone would have been worth it for them.

So, the hero’s still alive, huh? That means Io—and the small band of surviving demon troops—have no intention of retreating from here.

Suddenly, a mysterious voice reverberated throughout the area.

Dragon kings who live for an eternity…”

“?”

“Sofia,” Io muttered bitterly, his brow furrowed. “What’s she thinking, coming to the capital out of nowhere? What’s happened to the imperial city?”

His guess was correct; that voice belonged to Sofia. She’s still up there in the sky. I can detect her position—although, let’s be honest, that’s useless against her.

Sofia wasn’t just shouting randomly. It was a power-enhancing chant—a special kind of incantation that intentionally echoes through a vast space, dramatically amplifying a spell’s power while effectively declaring it to the world. That made it easier for an opponent to read the spell structure and set up countermeasures. Of course, broadcasting your spell across half a kingdom means everyone’s gonna know.

Fortunately, this type of chant was still effective against opponents who didn’t know the spell. That said, most cities and castles of any significance have large-scale nullification barriers specifically designed to counter powerful spells. So even if you cranked up its power to cannon level and aimed it at the city, it probably wouldn’t accomplish much. That kind of layered defense is surprisingly well thought out for this world.

Sofia’s chant continued: “Bladed Dragon, Water Dragon, Fire Dragon, Shadow Dragon…”

Man, that’s a long incantation. The flow of magic is inward—probably some kind of self-buff? A self-enhancing spell that required a chant like that was bound to be ridiculously overpowered.

Io, too, seemed uncertain of Sofia’s intentions, his gaze locked on her as she hovered like a speck in the sky. If even Io—nominally on her side—couldn’t predict what she was planning, I didn’t stand a chance.

Still… she was chanting. Better get ready.

Meanwhile, Lancer had dropped down into the city, but he hadn’t started moving yet. If Larva was still in good enough shape, he could probably at least keep Lancer occupied—even if he couldn’t defeat him outright.

Please, Senpai… don’t push yourself too far.

I’d never seen Hibiki so strained before. In my memory, she was always the type to breeze through everything with that easygoing smile. Guess things really do change in different worlds.

While monitoring Io, I activated the suit’s internal systems to reinforce my body and channel externalized mana. Even if it meant the suit self-destructing, I had to be ready.

A rematch with the Dragon Slayer, huh…

I was still lost in thought when suddenly—

“Etcetera!”

“Huh?!”

Sofia’s power spiked, rapidly gathering around her.

That’s so unfair!

“Die,” came the voice from behind me.

A sudden flash cut straight through the top of my head.

※※※

I stood face-to-face with Sofia, feeling Io’s gaze boring into my back.

Damn it, the suit’s gone.

The blade had struck me directly in the head. That alone would’ve been bad enough, but the damage must’ve been substantial, because the entire suit gave up. It let out a faint glow before dissipating completely—like a hero’s transformation being forcibly canceled. Mio, you went all-out with the fancy features, huh?

Sofia smirked, her feral grin as menacing as ever. “To think you’d survive that. Not just that—you’re unscathed except for that little costume of yours. As always, you’re far too interesting.”

She held a sword in her hand, smaller than I remembered but the same menacing color. Yeah, I’d seen that in my detection field, but standing there in front of her… it was different.

“Sofia Bulga.”

She arched an eyebrow, that wicked smile never leaving her lips. “Oh? You remembered my name. I’m honored. I’ve been through a lot since then. But I always knew you wouldn’t die from something like that.”

Her tone was light, but her eyes glinted with lethal amusement.

“And to think I was hoping you’d get yourself killed by the Wicked One or something.”

So, she never actually crossed paths with the Wicked One? Lucky woman.

She let out a dry laugh. “What, surprised? But I’m actually glad you survived. The fact that you withstood that much makes you far stronger than the hero from Gritonia.”

“You… killed the hero?” My eyes narrowed, and a chill ran down my spine. If she’s killed a hero, the Goddess will be furious. Maybe Sofia simply doesn’t care?

She scoffed. “No. Not yet, anyway. He showed me something… interesting, so I let him live. For now.”

“I think you’ve had enough entertainment for today,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “How about heading home?”

“Not a chance.” Her tone turned steely. “Lancer and I both recognize you as the greatest threat. Probably… no, definitely, you’re the one who’ll get in our way.”

“That’s… your gut feeling?”

“Exactly. But today, I’m going to carve you to pieces!”

The bloodlust radiating from her eyes looked sharp enough to slice the air itself. If I have to fight her, I’ll need to focus deeper than I ever did with Io, or I’ll be shredded.

Sofia was the enemy—she’d literally just declared she was going to kill me. And if she was an enemy, there was no reason not to focus.

All I have to do… is come back afterward.

As long as I don’t forget who I am right now, I’ll be fine.

“All right—” I began.

Another voice cut in. “Both of you, stand down!”

“?!”

“Oh my.”

“What—Rona? Why are you here?” Io asked in genuine bewilderment.

Rona?!

Of all people, she had to show up now, when Sofia had just revealed my face. How unlucky could I get? The Goddess, the transformation, Senpai, Sofia, and now Rona?! It was like playing poker with jokers in the deck, and she’d just landed five of a kind. Meanwhile, I was sitting there in Rotsgard, slowly building a straight or maybe a flush, feeling all proud of myself. And now it’s all wrecked.

No. This time, I can’t afford to back down.

It’s not just me on the line. My company, everyone in the Demiplane, Tomoe, Mio, Shiki—they’re all caught up in this.

Giving up isn’t an option.

Even if it means forcing my way through, no matter how much it changes from the plan I started with—

I have to finish this.

“Sofia, and… the white one? Wait, you…” Rona’s eyes met mine.

“…”

“Raidou?”

Busted.

Damn it. When push comes to shove, everything unravels so easily.

“What?!” Io’s voice was incredulous. “This is Raidou?!”

Sofia’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Oh my, so you know Rona too, Raidou.”

Yeah, thanks for that, Sofia. Real helpful.

“Raidou.” Rona’s confusion was palpable as she searched my face. “You should be in Rotsgard, right? Why are you in the capital? And why are you facing off with Io and Sofia like this?”

Even Rona can’t hide her shock. It’s practically radiating off her.

“That’s…”

Before I could finish, Io jumped in. “Apparently, he made some pact with the Goddess. He wants to help Limia’s hero and see Stella Fortress fall.”

Rona’s eyes widened in surprise.

Sofia made a show of being shocked, complete with a dramatic hand to her chest. “Oh my, Raidou. Lying to me—how bold. So, you really were the Goddess’s pawn all along. Poor Limia. If only you hadn’t come, their castle and city might have survived. If only you’d gone to help Gritonia’s hero, neither I nor Mitsurugi would have had to come here. Such a shame.”

I shook my head, trying to keep my voice steady. “It was… a deal—just a deal with the Goddess. We made an agreement. I’m not her pawn.”

It’s all unraveling. Everything I tried to build was coming apart at the seams right before my eyes.

“Raidou.” Rona’s voice became sharp, but there was a hint of pain in it too. “You promised me and His Majesty that you’d meet with us. So why are you fighting the demons now? Doesn’t that go against what you said?”

Rona.

You never even tried to read between the lines. Maybe that’s why you’re asking me this now—because I was always the easy person to manipulate.

If Shiki hadn’t been with me, you’d have twisted me around your little finger by now.

“I promised to meet the Demon Lord, yes,” I said quietly. “But I never said I’d spare every demon. Rona, you know how I am. I was asked to protect the hero and bring down Stella Fortress. I don’t have to kill any demons to do that. But if you want to protect your own, then let go of the hero and Stella, please.”

“Up until just a few days ago, it was ‘Rona-san,’ wasn’t it?” Her voice was teasing, though her eyes were cold. “So that was it. The mutant incident in Rotsgard—did that anger you so much, Raidou? I thought you didn’t have any particular attachment to the hyumans. Actually, I thought you’d be grateful. That fiasco should’ve helped free the merchant you were at the time. You were cramped and suffocating, don’t you agree?”

My jaw clenched. “Grateful? For murdering every merchant who dared oppose me?”

“They were just mutants unleashed by the demons. Nothing to do with you, right? You would only have stood to benefit, and no one would have suspected you of anything. You were evacuated, and after the nations’ armies dealt with the mutants, you could have resumed business under perfectly favorable conditions. That plan had no real downside for you.”

“Unbelievable. Spare me the lecture.”

She sighed, her voice lilting with disappointment. “So that’s how it was, huh? Larva—no, Shiki, right? With someone like that by your side, I never thought you’d care so much about ‘ethics.’ I underestimated you. I didn’t realize that beneath that merchant’s mask was someone too kind, too softhearted to let even the smallest injustice slide. That’s how you won Shiki over, I suppose…”

That even she would say that… Shiki must have done some brutal things back in the day.

I gave her a disdainful look. “Rotsgard’s been cleaned up.”

Rona nodded. “Yes, I’ve been informed.”

Informed? That was fast—too fast. Not even a hint of surprise from her, either.

“The demons should have withdrawn from the city,” I replied slowly.

“They have,” Rona agreed, her tone unfazed. “The demons, yes.”

Hybrids, huh? So, there were even demi-human collaborators in that city. I’d seen enough of Io’s army to know that blue-skinned demons weren’t the only enemies of the hyumans. There were plenty of others, too. Hell, maybe the real enemy was hyumanity itself. Whatever.

“You’re as dirty as ever,” I spat.

Her lips curved into a chilly, businesslike half-smile. “I tried to keep my promises to you, you know. So, how about it? One more deal? I’ll fully support your business in the demon realm. And of course, I won’t stop you from trading in hyuman nations either. I won’t get in your way. All I ask… is that you walk away from this.”

Even now, she’s still trying to cut a deal with me?

“I already told you, didn’t I?” I met Rona’s gaze with steely resolve. “There’s a deal with the Goddess. I’ll repeat myself: Rona, take Io, get back to your stronghold in the demon territory, and evacuate your forces from Stella Fortress. If you leave anyone behind, they’ll be pointless sacrifices.”

Rona’s expression shifted to one of disbelief. She parted her lips as if to protest, her voice trembling. “You know that Sofia over there has already transcended hyumanity, don’t you? And on top of that, you think you can handle Io too, and walk away in one piece?”

“Believe it or not,” I countered, keeping my voice calm and steady, “among all sorts of non-hyumans, I’m regularly called insane for what I can do. So, no worries there.” I shrugged faintly, giving her a thin smile. “Hell, Rona, why not join in yourself? I feel like I’m being underestimated here. Might be good for you.”

“Wha—” Rona’s voice caught.

Yeah… that wasn’t something I’d usually have said, but at that point, two or three at once wouldn’t have made a difference. It wasn’t like Shiki couldn’t have handled whatever was thrown at him. I wouldn’t even have minded if Lancer decided to jump in too.

I focused. I had my magic unlocked and all that summer training to show off. It might have been nice to test my limits against real enemies for once.

Io, standing behind me, cut in with a low voice. “Rona, his words are no boast. Just moments ago, even with the Rose Sign, I couldn’t break him.”

“Rose—?!” Rona gasped, her face going pale. “Io! I told you, no matter what, you were to come back! Why did you use that?! I gave it to Left for safekeeping—how did you even get your hands on it?!”

“I couldn’t let my subordinates shoulder that burden alone,” he replied calmly. “And Left was once my second-in-command. He understood my reasons. Above all, if I could slay this hero here and now, I’d have no regrets in stepping aside for the next generation. He… he’s far stronger than I’d expected.”

Rona’s voice rose, trembling with frustration and something like grief. “Listen to yourself! You’re a general, Io—one of the most exceptional warriors I’ve ever known! Don’t talk about stepping aside so lightly! Sure, we both serve the same king, but I know we have very different means to that end. Even so, I respect you too much to let you throw your life away. If you really wanted to step down, then why didn’t you do it after passing on your skills as an instructor? Why didn’t you think to leave your legacy properly?!”

Rona’s unexpected emotional outburst made Io falter. “A-Ah. No, sorry,” he muttered, averting his gaze.

“How much time do you have left?” Rona asked with deep concern.

Huh. She’s got a soft side after all—at least for her comrades.

Even Io looked genuinely taken aback, as if her reaction had caught him off guard too. Must be a pretty rare sight.

Sofia, meanwhile, stood with her sword still aimed at me. Seizing the moment, I quietly disengaged my heightened power and returned the Realm to its usual concealed state, ending the flow of energy around me.

Compared to that unlucky string of events earlier, this is nothing—still, luck’s luck. Maybe the tide’s turning for once.

Io’s voice broke the tension. “The Rose Sign has worn off.”

“I see,” Rona replied solemnly. “Any last words? No matter who they’re for, I’ll take responsibility for delivering them.”

Io hesitated.

“No… that man, Raidou, cut me down,” he confessed, his voice low.

Rona blinked.

“During the activation of the Rose Sign, Raidou forcibly dispelled it somehow. I still don’t know exactly what he did.”

“Wait! Does that mean—?” Rona’s eyes widened.

“I’m not dead yet,” Io confirmed.

“Then—! Say that first, you idiot! That was so misleading!!!” Her anger burst forth, masking the relief that washed over her features.

“I needed you to calm down first. You wouldn’t even let me get a word in,” Io muttered.

“Ugh…” Rona turned to glare at me.

Hey, come on, I thought, meeting her glare with an exasperated sigh. I didn’t do anything wrong this time. If anything, after all the crap she’s pulled, she should be thanking me for helping.

“Ahahahaha!!!” Sofia cackled, her laughter filling the ruined throne room with a harsh, echoing sound.

Even with the ceiling blown away and the night sky in full view, the castle’s barriers had already been restored. As expected, within the capital of a major kingdom, they were set to reconstruct themselves automatically, even after massive damage. Impressive, really.

After a while, Sofia finally stopped laughing and swept her gaze over all of us. I’d hoped that last exchange at least dulled her bloodlust. But that was probably just wishful thinking.

“Oh, I see now!” she declared, her eyes glittering with twisted delight. “Even if Io sacrifices himself, he can’t do any real damage! Haha, hahaha! Good thing I went ahead and unsealed myself before all this. Looks like I really will have to go all out to beat you.”

“Going all out? You mean… the Dragon Slayer’s true strength,” Io muttered with resignation.

“I’d rather run away,” Rona sighed. Even she seemed worn down by Sofia’s antics.

“Yeah, same,” I agreed quietly.

“Don’t be like that,” Sofia teased, flashing a bright, sadistic smile. “You’ve more than earned a front-row seat to see what I’m capable of, Raidou. You’re worth that much, at least.”

Then, like a mischievous child who’d just thought up a new prank, she turned that smile on Rona. “Oh, right, Rona. About the Star Lake incident—”

“What? What are you talking about?!” Rona asked, clearly confused.

“The name of the Wicked One—I just remembered it.”

“Huh?” Rona blinked.

The Wicked One’s name? Why bring that up now? Even Rona looked too stunned to react.

Damn it. So, Sofia really did fight that monster who created the lake that ended a whole battle…

Still alive and in one piece after all that? Man, this one’s got some serious staying power. And still a battle junkie, huh? Figures.

Sofia turned back to face me, her body lowering in a sudden, sharp stance before she lunged forward.

“Let’s settle this! Wicked One—Raidou!!!” she roared.

I blinked, stunned.

Io’s voice trembled in disbelief. “The Wicked One?!”

A red light shimmered at the edge of Sofia’s blade, extending its reach as she came at me with a savage grin.

Wait—the Wicked One? Me? The Wicked One? Why does every fight with her end up like this?

Caught in the shock of her words, I hesitated for a fraction of a second—but even that hesitation vanished as the surge of adrenaline snapped my senses back into focus.

Fine. If she wants a fight, she’ll get one.

I braced my legs, feet shoulder-width apart, planting myself firmly. This time, unlike with Io, I didn’t bother trying to dodge. No more running. I’ll meet her head-on.

The shriek of metal on metal—like nails on a chalkboard—screamed through the air as her sword met my stance.

Left side, huh?

“Ha!” Sofia’s voice cut through the noise.

“You know, I’ve learned a lot from your dirty sneak attacks. I’ve gotten stronger too,” I shot back.

Her sword stopped just a breath away from me—because I’d stopped it. Then her eyes widened slightly, and surprise flickered across her face before her usual composure returned. “Ahh. So that’s what felt off. Raidou, when did you get so chatty? Is that what makes you stronger?”

Even without her sword, her left hand glowed with a seething blackness. She held a pulsing mass of darkness that she hurled toward me with deadly precision.

Darkness? She’s picked up some new tricks since last time.

Fortunately, the blow, like her sword strike before, struck the same barrier around me with a dull thud and stopped cold.

“Common language, huh?” I said evenly. “I’ve only been able to speak that for a minute. What’s wrong, Sofia? None of your attacks are getting through. Why don’t you try that fancy red slash of yours again?”

As I spoke, I shifted my power from concealment to reinforcement. A dense orange aura spread outward from my body, visible even to the untrained eye—a molten halo of concentrated magic.

“The blade of the Blade Dragon, the flame of the Fire Dragon—do you really think that’s enough to protect you?”

I shrugged. “It’s the same attack you used to try one-shotting me. Go ahead, try it again. I’m giving you permission.”

Behind me, I could feel the sharp gasp from both Io and Rona.

Io’s still holding back. Or maybe he’s waiting to see whether he can join in without getting caught in Sofia’s crossfire.

Sofia raised her sword high, her eyes alight with battle lust. “Then I’ll try again—and expose whatever trick you’re hiding!”

The greenish blade in her hand glowed a fierce, dense red, extending like a liquid spear.

Here it comes.

A single, devastating slash cut through the air straight toward me. I didn’t even raise a guard; I watched as her strike met my aura head-on, the blade’s crimson arc leaving a glowing trail across the dense orange field.

Sofia leaped backward as the attack connected, and a thunderous explosion ripped through the chamber.

Fire? I don’t remember her using that element so freely before. She’s really changed.

Sofia’s voice trembled with a mix of awe and disbelief. “A hyuman-shaped aura? That’s… Is that made of magic? But that— How?”

“That’s his true armor, isn’t it?” Io added.

Typical demon general—always quick on the uptake.

I’m not the most intelligent guy around, I admitted to myself. But that’s why I wanted a power that wouldn’t give me a disadvantage, even if my enemies figured it out. Something straightforward. Something simple.

That’s what this was.

A massive upper-body shadow loomed, slightly larger than Io, materializing from the magic I’d released. It might have looked like I’d been possessed by some otherworldly force, but this was my own creation—my own magic.

It didn’t matter if the enemy saw it. I’d built it so I could counter sudden attacks. Even if my output wasn’t the highest, I’d created a way to wield vast amounts of magic at once.

Sofia stared in disbelief. “That’s… not a physical barrier, is it? Raidou, are you insane? You already had unusual defense, and now you’ve specialized even further?”

Her face—her voice—overflowed with honest shock, not the usual mocking grin.

“Even your strongest stored-up attack, the one you used to try and kill me, didn’t get through. Looks like I’ve improved, Sofia.”

“No magic activation—no reactive recoil either. Then how? That thing… You physically blocked my attack with it!”

She was staring at me with an expression I’d never seen on her face before. She really believed her attack would work. Or maybe this power of mine was just that unexpected.

I remembered how Tomoe, Mio, and even Shiki had worn similar expressions the first time they saw it.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “I learned how to materialize magic itself—and revert it too. I can’t fully hide it, but I’ve got other ways to mask it if needed. As for defense, you just saw it.”

Neither her slash nor the explosion that followed had so much as dented my conjured barrier.

It’s not just for defense, either. It’s pretty broken as an attack too.

I grimaced slightly. It’d been a nightmare training to get this to work. Shaping the domain, defining the boundaries, giving the magic physical properties—it was brutal.

“Magic materialization… I’ve never even heard of such a thing.” Sofia’s voice was low and uncertain.

Of course, she hadn’t. I hadn't either, until Eva gave me a research paper on it. There was hardly any documentation beyond that—most scholars in this world had given up on the concept long ago.

Io and Rona were both staring, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Rona, this materialization of magic—what does it mean? He’s making something out of pure magic?” Io demanded.

“Strictly speaking, no,” Rona replied. “What Raidou’s doing… he’s giving magic itself a property that lets it be touched. Something like that.”

“Then, hypothetically, could that hyumanoid upper body—made of pure magic—actually fight me hand-to-hand?”

“Almost certainly, yes. But even demons abandoned that technique centuries ago. It’s beyond inefficient. Converting certain materials into magic is one thing, but turning magic into a tangible object? The cost-benefit is terrible.”

“So, it’s different from a physical barrier, then?”

“Exactly. Sofia already said it: Physical barriers react to a weapon or a punch, activating like a shield. What Raidou’s doing is… It’s not even magic in the usual sense. It’s—no, I can’t figure out why he’d have such a technique.”

Her voice trailed off in a whisper, as if she were still trying to wrap her mind around it.

I fixed my gaze on Sofia. “Sofia, it’s my turn now.”

This power had opened so many doors for me—who’d always had tons of magic but no real way to use it. First things first—this Dragon Slayer. She’s going down, and with her, a trauma I’ve carried for far too long.

“Just big and slow, huh? That’s all you’ve got?” Her eyes glinted with murderous glee.

She dodged the downward swing of my magic avatar’s fist, closing in with that same red-glowing sword of hers, hacking at me with a rapid flurry of strikes. But none of it reached me.

“Yeah, I’m no martial arts master,” I admitted with a wry grin. “And your attacks are a lot stronger than before.”

“Of course they are!” Sofia snapped back.

“Ah, must be the power of the dragons. Judging from your incantation, did you borrow it from one of the higher dragons?”

“This one will—!”

She didn’t answer.

Her figure vanished.

Teleportation again, no doubt. But it looked different from the last time I’d seen it. Before, she’d swapped places with her sword, but now… she seemed to be using some other method to move.

Shadow Dragon, maybe?

Her presence flickered in the air, diagonally in front of me. She hoisted her sword overhead, a crimson sphere forming near her chest.

A ranged attack?

Sofia swung the blade in a diagonal arc, cleaving through the sphere.

In an instant, the crimson orb split into a laser-like beam—rushing straight for me.

Without hesitation, I summoned my magic avatar’s hand, caught it, and crushed it in my palm.

“Like a laser, huh?” I muttered. “Probably the Fire Dragon’s power you mentioned in your chant. Let’s see, the Crimson Lapis—Akari, right?”

“Even that failed?!” Sofia landed, glaring at me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. “Akari has the strongest attack power of all the dragons.”

“Seriously, borrowing power from all the Greater Dragons one after another… Did I piss off a dragon somewhere? I don’t remember offending them.”

If anything, I had one overzealous reptilian who’d taken a liking to me… probably still lurking around the Adventurer’s Guild.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Sofia said. “No one hates you, Raidou.”

With that, she lunged at me again. I batted her attack aside and prepared to counterattack.

“—!”

My attack missed again.

Even as I lowered my arm, a magic circle bloomed across my fist. From it, I unleashed a laser-like beam, mimicking the one Sofia had just fired at me.

Tch.

Even though it was a surprise attack, she still managed to deflect it with her instincts and that ridiculous sword of hers.

It doesn’t matter.

This magic avatar wasn’t just for defense; its real purpose was to support and amplify my own spells. By externalizing my magic and storing it in the air around me, I could build a stockpile—manifesting it as a physical construct.

Once it’s out there, it’s easy to shape and channel. With her attack power, even doubled, I wouldn’t need extra boosts.

I focused my senses on the surrounding area, using Realm to lock onto her movements.

“Try this on for size.”

With Sofia back at a safe distance, I locked eyes with her and began a short incantation. From the front of my magic avatar, countless tiny spheres, each no bigger than a fingertip, detached and hovered in the air.

“Defensive… specialization?” she muttered in shock.

“You really think that’s all I can do, Sofia?”

In an instant, the orbs quivered—and then erupted. A hundred thin beams, each similar to the one she’d fired earlier, streaked toward her in a deadly web. Predictably, she teleported to avoid them. Yeah, nice try.

Her teleportation didn’t involve phasing into another dimension or anything fancy; she merely shifted locations within the same space. And from what I’d observed, it wasn’t a long-range move.

Gotcha.

Using Realm, I tracked her to a nearby hiding spot.

All of the light beams that had been scattering toward the walls instantly shifted, each homing in on the pile of rubble where Sofia hid.

“They curved?!”

Every last beam changed course, diving into the mountain of debris and detonating. Bending lasers—now that’s a classic power fantasy.

From behind me, I heard Rona’s gasp of disbelief.

Homing attacks aren’t that rare, I thought. However, this was more of a last-minute adjustment than an actual homing function. It probably looked the same either way.

The explosion rocked the chamber. Sofia hadn’t moved from her spot, and she’d definitely taken damage this time. I glanced back over my shoulder to check on Rona and Io, who still held their stances.

Of course, a fighter like Sofia is hard to coordinate with—even so, he’s thinking of jumping into the fray?

“Io,” I warned. “You might want to lower that stance. If you try to interfere, I’ll treat you accordingly.”

Io’s jaw clenched. “I’m still in the middle of a fight with you, you know.”

“Suit yourself,” I replied coolly. “Consider that your warning.”

“Raidou,” Rona interjected cautiously. “All of that power you’re using—does it come from your own magic?”

I shot her a sharp look. “Rona, I have no intention of answering that. But here’s some advice: Get your people out of Stella. This fight’s going to be over soon.”

A swirl of smoke rose, and Sofia emerged from it, standing tall.

“Ah,” she groaned with frustration. “I’d forgotten about that little trick of yours.”

I’d hoped she’d at least have a few scratches, but she was completely unscathed, just like Io. She’s got regeneration now too? Not that it will change the outcome…

“Maybe you should call in Lancer at this point.”

“Oh, I already have,” she said. “But he’s not coming… Seems like your underling isn’t letting him go.”

“Ah… I see. Then let’s end this.”

“I’ve got four Greater Dragons,” she yelled, her face twisting in frustration.

“Huh?”

“Before, it was just Mitsurugi and Bakufu, but after that fight with you on the lake… I devoured Yomatoi and Akari!”

Devoured? I thought she’d formed alliances with them, not—

“…”

Sofia went on, her tone brimming with pride. “I realized it—my own power. I can devour a dragon’s strength and absorb it as my own. I’ve always considered myself a top-tier adventurer, but now, with the powers of four Greater Dragons, I have enough strength to destroy a kingdom.”

A kingdom? With that?

“Once I devour Sazanami and Muteki, I’ll be able to defeat that one… Banshoku.”

She’s merged the strength of four out of the seven dragons into her body—and yet she’s still having trouble against me? I mused. She must be even more shocked by that than I am.

Then… Banshoku Luto.

Later. I’m definitely going to complain about this later.

It sounded like Sofia’s ultimate goal revolved around Luto, but—why the hell was I stuck dealing with his mess too?

“Pretty dramatic, huh? And you think you can destroy a country with that power?” I questioned.

Her eyes sharpened. “Easily. Even Io there could wipe out a small country single-handedly. Armies? They’re just numbers, swarming together because they’re too weak to stand alone. People like you and me, we are the true strength of a nation.”

“…”

Is that really how it works here? I always thought individual strength couldn’t possibly match the raw might of an entire army.

Looking at the state of this city—and of the battlefield—I couldn’t deny it anymore. This is it? I wondered. Watching knights and soldiers fall so easily, I’m realizing that maybe this world really is… weak.

All at once, Sofia’s aura spiked even higher.

“Dammit. I never wanted to do something as tacky as sprouting scales on my skin,” she growled bitterly.

The four colors of power coursing through Sofia’s body intertwined with her own strength, swirling together like mixing paint. Her skin darkened, a faint scalelike pattern emerging. Her nails extended, and her eyes shifted, transforming her into something like a dragon’s remnants—more dragonkin than dragon slayer.

“Is this a transformation?” I probed. “I don’t know about Gront, but… I don’t think you stand a chance against Shin or Luto.”

Sofia’s expression hardened at the mention of those names. “Shin and… Luto?! Looks like there’s a lot more I need to make you talk about!”

“You can’t.”

“Sure, everyone’s heard of the so-called ‘Invincible Shin,’ but barely anyone knows of the Greater Dragon called Banshoku. I’ll wring it all out of you, even if it’s the last thing I do—before you die!”

“Oh? That so? Funny enough, I’ve actually had a few meals with him lately.”

“Don’t you dare mock me!”

With that, she reached for my magical construct—again. But this time, she didn’t hold her sword. Instead, she touched it with her empty hand. In that instant, black, muddy darkness poured from her palm. I felt its corruption seeping into my construct, weakening its structure in patches.

Sofia’s sword glowed even more intensely, and with surgical precision, she struck the spot she’d corrupted.

“Interesting,” I muttered with grudging admiration.

In the same breath, I retaliated, layering multiple spells within the construct. Arrows, spears, orbs—I unleashed them all at her.

A few attacks hit, but she didn’t stop carving the air with her blade. She might have been casting healing spells on herself in the same instant, because none of my hits seemed to matter. She kept slashing and slashing and slashing.

Protecting only her vital points and her right hand, she pressed forward, determined to end it here and now.

Then Io moved.

Thanks to my Realm detection field, I wasn’t caught off guard by his approach from behind. It looked like Rona tried to stop him, but—just like Sofia—he must have judged that now was his moment.

“Raidou, don’t hold it against—” Io shouted, but before he could finish, I snatched him up with the arm of my construct, holding him tight.

I’d grown a third arm just for this.

“Huh?!” Io yelped in surprise.

“Who said a humanoid construct had to have only two arms?” I asked as I lifted him straight up toward the night sky. “Io, if you come back, I will kill you. That was a warning earlier; this is a promise.”

I turned and met his eyes, making sure he heard every word. He probably wouldn’t be back, but I had to make it clear.

“Rocket punch—or something like that,” I said.

“Uooooooh?!” Io howled as I launched the arm at high speed, hurling him into the starry night.

He might be a warrior—a fighter worth sparing. Wherever he landed, I was sure he’d manage to come back alive. At least I’d separated him from Stella, so that threat was neutralized.

“Don’t look away from meeeeee!!!” Sofia screamed, unleashing a devastating horizontal slash.

So, this was where my construct would start to fall apart. Black markings had appeared all over it.

A shrill noise rang out—kiiiiiiin—as the humanoid shattered.

“With this!” Sofia cried.

But—

Gagiiiiiiiin!!!

“Tchuuuu!”

I never said I couldn’t rebuild it.

The thing she thought she’d destroyed reappeared in an instant, blocking her blade. The shock froze Sofia in her tracks, and I wasn’t about to waste that opportunity.

I lunged forward, the construct’s hand seizing her tightly.

“That form of yours… I wonder how much defense it actually offers,” I muttered.

My fist clenched, radiating heat and light—then exploded.

“Aaaaaagh!!!”

A full-throated scream of agony. I’ve never heard a sound like that from Sofia before.

Rona

I found myself utterly terrified by the battle unfolding before my eyes—overwhelmed with a pure, primal fear.

Beside me, Io took advantage of the moment Raidou was under pressure from Sofia and decided to jump into the fray. But he’d been neutralized immediately.

The strongest general in our army—wiped out in a heartbeat.

Raidou had grown a third arm from his humanoid construct’s side and grabbed Io, then severed it from his body and flung it skyward.

Io couldn’t teleport.

There was nothing he could do against a trick like that. If I went to retrieve him, that might change—but right now, I was facing a reality in which even our strongest couldn’t stand against either of the two monsters before me.

It was a dire situation, to say the least.

The only sliver of hope was that Raidou’s trump card seemed to be that construct—his humanoid magic body. It was undoubtedly a troublesome weapon: a mass of mana that could easily be adapted for spells, deployed with just a brief incantation. And as long as he had mana, he could reconstruct it instantly.

The fact that he could build a construct that massive and use it to deflect attacks from the likes of the Dragon Slayer herself—well, that alone proved Raidou possessed at least nation-scale reserves of magical power.

It wasn’t exactly a solid object either, so maybe the efficiency was better than what I’d seen before. One thing was certain: It was an undeniable threat.

“According to demon experiments, even the most skilled magicians would burn through all their mana just to produce a single grain of sand,” I muttered to myself. “For him to conjure that kind of mass with enough strength to deflect the Dragon Slayer’s attacks…”

It was more mana than I even wanted to try to calculate.

Ultimately, it was still just mana.

With my own trump card, I’d have a decent chance—assuming things went my way. And right now, I could still count on Sofia’s support, which was the only reason I hadn’t left yet.

If those two decided to turn on us while still at full strength, it would be catastrophic for the demons as well. So, if I could eliminate even one of them right now…

That was the idea.

Usually, I’d need the king’s permission to use my ultimate spell. But there was no time for protocol now. Quietly, I began the preparations, weaving the incantation while trying not to attract their attention.

“Rona.” Raidou’s voice cut through my focus like a blade, instantly shattering my concentration.

“Ah!”

I didn’t even see him turn to face me.

He’d warned me without looking my way.

I remembered—at the academy, when we’d sparred for fun, he read me like an open book. Even then, despite my being different from the other students, he’d still anticipated my moves.

A cold sweat ran down my spine.

It’s only been a few days since that last conversation, when he seemed so sweet.

But in such a short time, what in the world happened to Raidou?

I didn’t understand.

More important was the fact that he’d changed. He was no longer someone I could toy with on the battlefield.

I forced myself to swallow, trying to wet my parched throat. Fear, such as I hadn’t felt in ages, was swelling inside me.

This isn’t the time to make a move.

Hiding the fact that I’d been overwhelmed by fright, I cobbled together reasons not to oppose him. I’d already confirmed Io’s approximate location via telepathy. The distance was considerable, but it wasn’t beyond reach.

Time to fall back.

Sofia had released so much draconic power that her very body was twisted, and—if you believed what she was saying—she carried within her the power of four Greater Dragons. The Blade Dragon’s sword, the Fire Dragon’s flame, the Water Dragon’s healing and support, and the Shadow Dragon’s special abilities. She was single-handedly capable of destroying a country. Perhaps even one of the Four Great Nations if she went all out.

Yet Raidou faced her without a single bead of sweat. He was unfazed.

Him too… No—he’s an unknown. At the very least, I seriously underestimated him.

After a pause, I forced myself to respond to his earlier warning.

“Just kidding, Raidou,” I finally managed to say, though my tongue felt like it barely worked.

“Ah, right,” he replied.

“You wanted me to give up on the hero and Stella Fortress, didn’t you? Fine. I can’t speak for Sofia, but Io and I will accept that demand. We’re withdrawing.”

“What are the conditions?”

Raidou looked at me. Even while dealing with Sofia, he still had the presence of mind to glance away repeatedly.

He’s that composed…

“There are no conditions,” I said. “You’ll still meet with His Majesty, won’t you?”

“Of course. I want to speak with him at least once,” he replied.

“Then that’s good enough. Sofia’s a guest general, but she’s not in command of the army. I’ll leave her here. That’s all right, isn’t it?”

“I won’t guarantee her safety.”

“That’s fine. She’s not showing any signs of stopping, even after hearing this conversation. No matter the outcome, she’ll accept whatever happens on the battlefield.”

“Then go ahead. Just so you know, if you try to mess with the hero after this, it’ll be a waste of time. Shiki’s waiting outside.”

“I’m not that stupid. Goodbye.”

So terrifying.

As I prepared to leave, only that thought remained in my head.

Raidou is actually the Wicked One. Even if he hadn’t said it himself, that name suits him all too well. Wiping the cold sweat from my face at last, I found myself thinking that from the bottom of my heart.

※※※

“Your sword looks like it’s fused with your hand,” I pointed out.

“This is basically a crystallization of the Blade Dragon’s power,” Sofia explained. “The more I release the dragons’ power, the closer it gets to being completely fused.”

We stood alone in what used to be the audience chamber. Sofia rose again, cloaked in blue light, healing her wounds. Her eyes still burned with fighting spirit.

“You know,” I said, “you should probably save that trick—revealing your hand slowly—for when you’re fighting someone weaker than you. Or did you think I wouldn’t actually kill you?”

If that was the case, then she was the one being naive. I was absolutely ready to kill her. She’d reacted to the mention of Shin’s name, which meant she intended to devour Tomoe too. No matter how strong she was, there was no way I’d let her live after that.

“I’m not so foolish as to believe I won’t die on the battlefield,” she replied bitterly. “But tell me this: Are your attacks really as powerful as Gritonia’s hero’s?”

Gritonia’s hero? Why bring him up now?

“Don’t know, never met him. Anyway, I don’t have to end things with a single hit. I can reveal my tricks little by little if I want to.”

“Ha. So, you’re trying to say you’re the superior one? Honestly, that kid was a lot more charming than you.”

“…?”

“His attack was incredible. The Shadow Dragon and the Water Dragon—he pushed both their powers to the limit to finally stand against me. I didn’t even have to transform like this, but still, he was stronger than you.”

“That doesn’t really add up, does it?”

“He cares about his companions, and he has the resolve to risk his life to achieve his goals.”

“…”

You really think that highly of him, huh?

“If I had to pick someone to ally with—” she began.

Well, the hero of Gritonia definitely can’t be underestimated.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “No question. He is amazing.”

“What did you say?”

“He’s got enough charm to control an anomaly like you. And he left just enough of a seed to finish the job if he meets you a few more times.”

“What?!”

Sofia’s face twisted in pure shock, like she’d never even considered the possibility. Not surprising, really—it had been done so subtly, like he’d hidden the charm’s seed in plain sight. The level of cunning required to pull that off was beyond my comprehension.

“Hah,” I said, unable to hide my amazement. “You didn’t even notice, huh? You must’ve let your guard down somewhere. Man, that hero really is something else. I could never bring myself to charm someone like you—I’d just kill you.”

Within her, I’d found a trace of residual magic power that felt like an embedded seed—proof of his underhanded skill.

To think Sofia actually got charmed…

Gritonia’s hero really doesn’t care who he goes after as long as she’s beautiful, does he? I’ll have to make sure to set up proper countermeasures, so he doesn’t cause problems in the Demiplane too. If he can charm Sofia, he’s more dangerous than I thought.

“Charmed? Me? You… what are you saying?” she asked, confused.

“Missed it, huh?” I shot her a pitying smile. “Could it be the real reason you didn’t kill him was because of those feelings? The mighty Dragon Slayer, charmed like a lovesick girl…”

“…”

“Look, I’m doing you a favor here. Want me to break that charm for you before this ends?”

Being charmed wouldn’t have changed how she fought me, but the way she kept praising him made her look pitiful. Sofia couldn’t force me to get too immersed in the fight. She’s either overconfident or just clueless. All I could feel for her was pity.

“Shut up!” she shouted.

“Sorry,” I said with a wry smile. “But hey—no sneak attacks, okay? I’m just asking. Why not let me dispel it for you? It’s a safe enough magic, you know.”

“I said, shut up!”

“You’re out of moves, you know. Even if you wait for Lancer, it won’t do you any good.”

“Shut that mouth!”

“Listen—”

Before I could finish, flames suddenly burst from Sofia’s back. Or no—it wasn’t flames. It was fire. Wings shaped like those of a dragon unfurled behind her.

“Shut it!!!”

She vanished. Teleportation?! No—wrong! She’s just moving too fast for my eyes to keep up.

I looked up. A crimson streak darted across the air, leaving trails as it zigzagged everywhere. High-speed maneuvers. She still had that trick up her sleeve? So many hidden weapons in her arsenal. My magic construct was covered in slashes and black scorch marks wherever she struck. Sofia the chatterbox had fallen silent, slashing at me with everything she had.

“Hah.”

“If Mitsurugi comes back, you’re finished.”

Ah—she spoke. But she was dead wrong. Or maybe we’re the ones who are just too far beyond normal standards.

“Mitsurugi, Lancer, isn’t coming back. And even with the power of several Greater Dragons, this is all you’ve got? Then…” Even as I spoke, she kept up her invisible slashes at me. “My Shiki’s stronger than any Lancer.”

Yes. Even as I felt her blades cut at me, I responded with complete confidence. And, at the same time, I answered Shiki, who’d just asked me for permission via telepathy.

Do as you like.

Side Story: Meanwhile

Some time after Makoto and the rest of the Kuzunoha Company began responding to the mutant outbreak in Rotsgard, two hyumans vanished from the academy city. One was Eva Aensland, the woman who’d served as the academy’s librarian. The other was her younger sister, Luria Aensland, who worked at the city’s most popular eatery, Ironclad Inn.

Even after the company’s intervention began, the rampage of the transformed monsters claimed more and more lives. Yet the Aensland sisters’ disappearances had nothing to do with the mutants themselves.

Once nobility, they were survivors of the fallen kingdom of Kaleneon. When their homeland crumbled in a calamity, the sisters, by sheer luck, escaped with their lives. But that very survival exposed them to endless scorn, resentment, and hatred. Over time, the elder sister found herself gripped by a dangerous madness, while the younger gave up on everything, becoming a shell of her former self.

Still…

That despair in the younger sister removed the last brake on the elder’s growing insanity. Rather than destroy her, it became the signpost to a miraculous fruit. It was a contract—with a man.

What neither sister yet knew? It was a contract with a demon.

A rewriting of the past. A reckless plan that amounted to fabricating an entire nation’s history. To forcibly rewrite the conclusion of a land that had already fallen, reshaping it into a different fate. It was the ultimate result of Eva’s madness.

In exchange, they offered up their lives and everything they’d done and been to that point.

The Aensland sisters knelt before the demon—the Kuzunoha Company’s representative, Raidou—and clutched his outstretched right hand.

That’s why, now, Eva and Luria had vanished from Rotsgard.

Everything was causality.

“Where… are we?”

“I don’t know. But this has to be Raidou-sens—Raidou-sama’s property, right?”

Even as Eva responded to Luria’s dazed muttering with a guess of her own, it was clear that neither of them truly grasped what was happening.

They stood on the edge of a neatly paved road. Before them spread a lush, green meadow, the wind carrying the fresh scent of grass. The person who’d brought them here told them to “Wait here” before heading into the town just up ahead.

He’d been introduced to them as an employee of the Kuzunoha Company, a dwarf—an elder dwarf, to be precise, though neither sister knew that this was a highly skilled artisan race; that having even one in your service could bring enormous wealth to any merchant or noble household.

“That town… Doesn’t something about it seem off, sis?” Luria asked.

Eva nodded. “Yes. It’s strange.”

The sisters tilted their heads in unison.

“It’s a pretty big town, but… I don’t know. Something’s weird.”

“The outer walls…” Eva murmured.

“Ah!”

“They’re too low for a town that size. The moat doesn’t look deep enough to be of any real use, either. It’s wide enough, but…”

Luria’s eyes widened in realization at Eva’s point. “Yeah… you’re right. Weirdly, you can see right into the town from outside.”

From where the sisters stood, they could clearly see the large settlement sprawling across the meadow ahead.

From a high vantage point, one might have overlooked this oddity. For a city of this scale, one would generally expect towering outer walls that prevented any glimpse of its interior. Astonishingly, that wasn’t the case here.

The low walls encircling the city were incomplete in places, rendering them highly unreliable as fortifications. Meanwhile, the watchtowers—presumably for surveillance—seemed almost absurdly tall.

It was, without question, a strange city.

“Sis, the dwarf’s coming back!” Luria’s voice shook with a mixture of relief and unease.

“Calm down. I’ve already steeled myself for this. I offered everything—my very life—to Raidou-sama for the sake of my goal,” Eva whispered to herself, as if to suppress the trembling in her chest.

Unlike the two sisters, who couldn’t hide their tension, the returning elder dwarf wore a calm and cheerful smile. The truth was, they were the reason for his good mood—but had yet to realize that.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. Now then, let me show you around Young Master’s city,” the elder dwarf said.

It was a casual line, spoken offhandedly. But within it lay a detail that neither Eva nor Luria could ignore.

“Raidou-sama’s…”

His city?!

Understanding dawned on them both at the same time, and their voices rose in unison. Owning a city meant you held territory.

Then… Raidou isn’t just a merchant—he’s practically a noble?! Eva’s mind conjured the image of Raidou: a figure who, despite his youthful appearance, carried a quiet strength.

A wealthy merchant might easily dominate small towns and villages, but a city of this size—without government involvement—would be unthinkable.

“Oh, right. I haven’t properly introduced myself yet.” The dwarf’s tone was bright and easy as he walked. “Name’s Ishu. And you two must be Eva-dono and Luria-dono?”

Eva and Luria exchanged distracted nods. Their minds were too preoccupied to offer more than a half-hearted reply.

“Yes.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

There wasn’t a single checkpoint or screening process when the sisters entered the city. Eva found this odd and couldn’t resist asking Ishu about it.

“Guests invited by Young Master need no such thing,” he replied with a chuckle. “Come to think of it, it might be the first time a hyuman has come here at Young Master’s invitation… I wonder…”

His words made Eva and Luria scan their surroundings. There wasn’t a single hyuman in sight. Not a single one.

That realization hit them both like a cold wave of dread.

“Um! Ishu-san, may I ask something?!” Luria’s voice trembled as she shot her hand into the air, her eyes wide.

“Of course, little potter’s daughter.” Ishu’s smile broadened. “We’re all comrades now, and besides, you’ve both brought us a truly splendid gift.”

“A… gift?”

“That’s for later,” he remarked with a dismissive wave. “So, what do you want to know?”

“There really aren’t any other hyumans here, are there?”

“Not right now, no. Other than Young Master, you two are the only ones.”

Luria’s voice wavered. “But I’ve never heard of demi-humans owning a city this size.”

“This isn’t a demi-human city,” Ishu corrected. “It’s Young Master’s world, Young Master’s city. Which means anyone, any race, can live here if they choose to be among his people.”

He said it with such serene conviction, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

As they walked, they passed orcs, lizardfolk, races the sisters had never seen before—some even with wings sprouting from their backs. There were also several varieties of monsters. All were eyeing Eva and Luria with gentle curiosity—no hint of hostility at all.

“But… that woman with glasses, she’s a hyuman, isn’t she?”

Luria pointed toward a group of women with purple hair that they’d started noticing as they moved deeper into the city. At a glance, they didn’t look like demi-humans.

“Hyumans? Ah, them.” Ishu let out a low chuckle. “They’re gorgons—a type of monster, not even demi-humans.”

Eva and Luria both gasped. Their eyes widened in pure terror at the idea of encountering monsters so close.

“Hahaha. You’ll learn everything soon enough,” Ishu continued. “After all, you both formed a contract with Young Master, didn’t you?”

At the end of the broad street, a particularly large building came into view. That was clearly their destination. It was too big to be called a house, but too small to be called a palace—somewhere in between.

“No way… That’s not… That can’t be his house, can it?” Luria leaned close, glancing nervously at Ishu as she whispered to her sister.

“Luria. He’s not just ‘sensei’ anymore—he’s Raidou-sama. If this is his city, then that’s probably his home or the main branch of the Kuzunoha Company,” Eva replied firmly.

“Didn’t Ishu-san say something about ‘Young Master’s world’ and all that weird stuff?”

“Forget about that,” Eva urged. “Don’t think about it now. Just focus on what’s right in front of you. That’s all we can do.”

“Okay… I’ll try,” Luria breathed, steadying herself.

To bystanders, the two of them whispering back and forth like that probably looked suspicious. But no one on the street seemed to care. Their conversation finished, Eva raised her eyes to the sky, where a brilliant, endless blue stretched overhead.

So, this is the place Raidou-sama called ‘the Corporate City,’ I suppose. She exhaled slowly. But the sky is the same no matter where you go. Whether it’s the Four Great Nations, the demon lands… Kaleneon… or here. If I let every transfer or new city shake me, there’s no way I’ll ever be able to walk alongside that man.

She took a deep breath and faced forward, resolute.

Of course, in truth, even the sky overhead wasn’t precisely the same as any other—but she didn’t know that yet.

Everything would be revealed in time.

For now, these two hyumans were about to set out on a strange new path.

※※※

“… and that concludes the introductions to the various races who will soon be cooperating with you. The winged folk and gorgons might take a bit longer to warm up, but they’re coming along,” explained the orc woman who’d introduced herself as Kate.

“H-Huh…” Eva’s voice trailed off.

As she’d feared, the large building they’d been led to indeed turned out to be Raidou’s residence. The sisters had been ushered into one of its rooms—a chamber that looked like a conference room. Inside were representatives from various races, each one introducing themselves in turn.

As Raidou’s “followers,” she reminded herself.

They’d seen most of these races on their way here, so at least they weren’t panicking. Still, the complete absence of hyumans in the room—and in the city—was a shock they couldn’t quite hide.

“That’s a rather vacant answer,” Kate remarked with a straight look. “Eva, was it? Do you actually understand the situation you’re in?”

“Yes, of course.” Eva forced her voice steady. “Raidou-sama promised to help us reclaim Kaleneon. In exchange, he would take everything that was ours—our lives, our history, everything.”

“And what exactly do you think that means in practice? That’s what I’m asking.”

Eva clenched her fists. “It means that in exchange for everything the Aensland family has—our bodies, our past, everything—we’re giving him the right to take back our kingdom from the hands of the demons!”

“Ishu… is this really the Aensland family’s last survivors that Young Master mentioned?” Kate’s expression turned cold, her voice edged with disappointment.

Ishu, standing behind the sisters, gave a wry smile. “No mistake. They might be shortsighted, but their resolve is genuine. That’s all Young Master expects. And their wish to take back Kaleneon… well, that might just become…”

“I know.” Kate sighed. “Yes, it might even become something magnificent. But honestly, these two can’t imagine what’s coming for them.”

“That’s where we come in,” Ishu said. “Young Master, Tomoe-sama, and Mio-sama left their training in our hands. Besides, these two have at least a bit of luck on their side. Look at it this way—at least Ema isn’t here to see this. That would be a disaster.”

Kate laughed softly. “You’re right. If Ema had seen how pathetic these two are now, she’d have snapped—Blackened, or maybe even gone Abyss. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near that.”

A ripple of agreement passed through the other races assembled. Even the lizardfolk and orcs nodded grimly.

Kate turned back to the sisters with a tone of finality. “Eva Aensland. Luria Aensland. Let me ask you again: Do you have the resolve?”

Eva nodded firmly. “I will give everything I have to him.”

“So will I. It doesn’t matter what it is,” Luria added.

Anything he wants. Whatever he asks, I’ll do it. Their eyes were full of determination, their voices unwavering.

Even so, what they had in mind was a bit—no, very different from what Raidou was expecting of them.

“Very well.” Kate gave a tight smile. “Then don’t forget those words. We’ll interpret them in the most favorable way… for us.”

Huh? Eva blinked, exchanging a puzzled glance with Luria.

“Now, Eva,” Kate continued, turning back to her with a somewhat ominous smile. “Let me ask you another question. When Kaleneon is reclaimed from the demons… what do you think will happen next?”

Eva straightened. “Well, I imagine the demons would try to take it back. So, the first thing we’d need to do is shore up our—”

Kate cut her off with a slow shake of her head. “Ah… you needn’t worry about that. That’s impossible.”

Eva’s eyes widened. “Impossible?”

“Indeed,” Kate replied calmly. “Kaleneon would no longer be under the demons’ control—but rather, under yours. That means a story is necessary, wouldn’t you agree?”

“A story?” Eva’s voice trembled.

“Yes. Why did the demons withdraw from that small kingdom that should have been absorbed into their territory? And why are you—a mere hyuman—standing there instead? We need a reason. A justification.”

“Wouldn’t that be because Raidou-sama governs it?”

Kate’s eyes hardened. “Unacceptable. That likely doesn’t align with Young Master’s wishes.”

“Unacceptable?!” Eva’s voice cracked.

Kate’s tone softened only slightly. “We aren’t privy to every detail of Young Master’s thoughts, so I can only speculate. But I believe he envisions a different role for you and for the Aensland name.”

Eva fell silent, stunned. Her mind raced. What could that possibly mean?

She swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat refused to go down.

Kate continued, “You and your sister Luria will be the heroes who fought to reclaim Kaleneon from the demons. You’ll be celebrated as the saviors who united the hyumans, the dissenting demi-humans, and even the monsters who refused to follow the demons’ orders. After all the other noble houses fell into ruin, only the Aenslands remained—a beacon of unwavering will and unmatched brilliance. That’s the role you’ll play.”

“Wha…” Eva felt her knees weaken.

“Kaleneon never fell. On the contrary, it became a miracle nation that, even surrounded by demon territory, secured its independence—thanks to the unwavering support of the Kuzunoha Company. That’s the narrative we believe Young Master has in mind.”

“Th-That sounds insane… like a child’s ridiculous fantasy!” Eva’s voice quavered as she found her words.

“I-I think so too. It’s just… too unrealistic.” For the first time, Luria spoke, her voice hesitant.

“Of course,” Kate acknowledged coolly. “Even I think it’s an impossible story. But whether I believe it or not is irrelevant… Ah, Eva. From now on, refrain from insulting Young Master by calling his plans insane or childish fantasies. That’s forbidden.”

A stifling weight settled over the sisters at Kate’s words, leaving them speechless.

“As I mentioned earlier, we’ll provide temporary support from our side when it comes to the demi-humans. As for the hyumans, we plan to recruit adventurers from Tsige. Since that also involves the Adventurer’s Guild, I’m sure Young Master will arrange for some additional coordination later.”

“…”

“After that, all we need are heroes—Eva Aensland and Luria Aensland. We’re not expecting combat skills—that’s unnecessary. What we need from you is the ability to govern and rebuild a nation after the war. You two are going to be reborn for this purpose.”

“Wha—?!” Eva began.

“W-W-Wait, I’m just a waitress! I’m not like my sister, I don’t have any education or knowledge!” Luria protested desperately, her hands trembling.

Kate’s eyes gleamed with cold amusement. “So, you’ve had at least some exposure to handling food and crops. That’s good to know.”

“?!”

Kate’s tone darkened. “You both said you were prepared, didn’t you? Did you really think all you had to do was renounce your family name? That you could let someone else unite Kaleneon while you lived comfortably as Young Master’s concubines, raising children in your old estate…”

—!

Kate’s smile was merciless. “Don’t be naive. The Aensland sisters who abandoned Kaleneon may have vanished in the contract with Young Master, but in their place, the Aensland sisters who saved Kaleneon were born. You’re going to see this through to the bitter end—even if it kills you.”

A suffocating pressure emanated from Kate and the other demi-humans in the room. Eva and Luria began to shake uncontrollably.

This is madness. This is too much! No matter how extraordinary Raidou-sama is, there’s no way he’d come up with something like this. This must be a misunderstanding—just a mistake on this orc’s part. Please, Raidou-sama… tell me it isn’t so…

What was about to begin was completely beyond Eva’s ability to comprehend. But she could at least be sure of one thing: Whatever awaited her and her sister would be far harsher than anything she had ever imagined.

Luria’s face had turned ashen, drained of all color.

“Now then, we’ve laid out the current situation, Young Master’s expectations, and the best path forward. Let’s begin at once,” Ishu announced, clapping his hands lightly.

Luria didn’t even flinch. Eva, on the other hand, turned to him like a broken wind-up doll, her movements stiff and mechanical.

Everyone in the room—except for the sisters—nodded in complete agreement at Ishu’s words.

“Wh-What are you going to do?” Eva stammered.

“Oh, you’ll see soon enough. Let’s get going,” Ishu replied breezily. Without waiting for any further consent, he grabbed the sisters’ hands and practically dragged them out of the room.

He led them down a hallway, across an enclosed walkway, and into a separate chamber that seemed detached from the primary residence. The room was not particularly large, but at its center rose a strange column of orange mist.

It was unmistakably the product of magic.

This was one of the transfer formations the Demiplane’s residents used to move between settlements and Raidou’s mansion. Tomoe had refined it into a reliable and highly efficient system.

Though the pillar of mist was unusual in shape, it was significantly more stable and effective than any traditional teleportation circle.

“We’ll start with the elder dwarf settlement. Here,” Ishu prompted.

Before either sister could react, Ishu unceremoniously shoved them into the pillar of mist and followed right after them.

“Ah!”

“Eeek!”

In an instant, their surroundings shifted, and before their eyes spread a bustling mining town, filled with the haze of smoke and heat and the constant sound of hammers on anvils.

The place they’d been teleported to was a roofed but wall-less structure that allowed them to see the surrounding scenery.

“First stop, the forge,” Ishu announced. “Let me make one thing clear: We don’t just make weapons here. Roads, houses, everyday goods—you name it, we craft it. True, most of our reputation rests on our weapons, so the misunderstanding is understandable. But listen well: I hear that Kaleneon is a nation dear to the Young Master’s heart. When we rebuild it, we will not allow shoddy work.”

“…”

“What’s the matter? Don’t just stand there slack-jawed. You have no time to waste. Move!” barked Ishu, already a few steps ahead.

The stunned sisters recovered, scrambling to catch up. The hardy resolve that had once supported them now felt like a brittle husk.

They found themselves in what could only be described as a dwarven smithing village. Compared to the grasslands and the mansion where they’d just been, the air here was thicker, carrying a heavier heat.

The architecture bore none of the elaborate decoration they were used to from the academy city. Here, everything was simple, robust, and focused on function rather than form.

Wherever they looked, metal tools and weapons cluttered the view: axes hanging carelessly on walls, barrels brimming with swords. As Kate had explained earlier, if these truly were elder dwarves, then even these seemingly random items were each worth a small fortune. Ishu had called this the elder dwarves’ settlement—there could be no mistake.

Luria, still oblivious to the deeper implications, simply followed Ishu as she always had. Eva, on the other hand, felt a new tension prickling at her nerves as she took in the sights.

“Let’s start with the easy stuff—armor and weapons. Look over there.”

Even as he spoke, Ishu led them deeper into the forge without pause. The sisters hesitated only a moment, then hurried after him, not daring to glance around.

In front of one room, Ishu finally came to a halt. The door appeared to be unlocked, and he pushed it open with both hands, gesturing with his chin for the sisters to enter.

“…”

The room’s massive walls and shelves were crammed with weapons and armor, the scale of which left Eva and Luria at a loss for words. Dwarven hands had forged every last piece.

“They’re not all masterpieces,” Ishu admitted, “but every one of these is more than capable of serving its purpose in actual combat. There are roughly three thousand here. And there are plenty more storage rooms with gear of the same quality. If the need arises, we’ll send some of these weapons to Kaleneon.”

“Th-Three thousand… Y-You’d really send these?” Eva stammered.

Misinterpreting her shock as a complaint about the quality, Ishu began to lecture her.

“Hey now, obviously, the truly exceptional pieces are kept under lock and key, with strict regulations on who can borrow or claim them. Don’t go thinking you’ll get the best of the best right from the start. Really, you people… Always so eager for the highest-grade goods…”

“Ah, um—” Eva tried to interrupt, but Ishu carried on.

“I get it, you’ve been around Young Master and Shiki, so you’ve seen the top-tier stuff firsthand. But listen here—that level of equipment isn’t just a matter of forging. It’s forged to bond with its wielder. Even if you could get your hands on it, it would just end up as a decoration on the wall. Worse yet, it could spark unnecessary conflicts.”

“Um, Ishu-san,” Luria interjected timidly, coming to her sister’s defense. “I think my sister’s actually shocked in the opposite way.”

“Oh? The quiet one finally speaks up. But… the opposite? How do you mean?” Ishu asked, confused.

“It’s just… even an amateur like us can tell how incredible these weapons are. And to think you’re offering to give us so many of them… It’s overwhelming. I feel the same way,” Luria replied.

“I see,” Ishu sighed. “To be clear, these are just the minimum essentials, prepared in advance to ensure no one is left empty-handed. Good grief, what a misunderstanding.”

“Minimum essentials… These?” Eva whispered as she scanned the stockpile filling the storage room.

Even at a decently sized town’s weapons shop, Eva knew it would be nearly impossible to find weapons of this caliber. To think that this was the bare minimum they’d be provided with—an unbelievable proposal.

If Eva’s current state of mind could be compared to anything, it would be like a random person walking up to you on the street and giving you a winning lottery ticket.

“Well, then, perhaps this worked out for the best,” Ishu remarked. “I’d been wondering if I should show you something of higher quality to demonstrate what you might expect in the future—should you prove capable. But it seems this was exactly the right place to start.”

“Yeah,” Luria agreed, smiling faintly. “My sister and I don’t know much about weapons, but even we can see how incredible these are.”

“Hmm, I see.” Ishu nodded, then continued, “You know, when we truly manage to forge something exceptional, it tends to carry a certain presence, an aura that surrounds it. Even a single dagger can radiate a pressure greater than what you’re feeling now.”

“A single dagger with more pressure than this…” Eva whispered, wide-eyed.

“Indeed. If we lined up a thousand of those, you two might collapse under the strain. That’s why it’s a matter of training… hmm.”

Getting used to that kind of pressure… Luria thought. When it’s a person you’re dealing with, you can sort of understand that, I suppose. She recalled how anxious she’d been when she first started working at Ironclad. Every interaction with a customer had left her tense and on edge. But now, even when the place was packed, she’d managed to handle it with a measure of calm.

There may come a day when I’ll get used to this too. She couldn’t help but let out a small, wry laugh. She and her sister had clearly made a deal with someone—or something-that was far beyond what she’d imagined.

It was a path completely different from what she’d envisioned and so much more daunting. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of how difficult it would be. But even so, Luria still held on to one thought.

This was the promise they’d made to Raidou. When he said he would do something, he did it. At least, from everything Luria had seen of him so far, that’s the kind of person he was. Whether it was a drunken customer or the highborn Hopleys family, he’d always handled things exactly the same way.

Maybe this is just a different kind of determination, she thought. My sister and I will face it together, no matter what comes. We’ll climb any mountain—or no, that’s not quite right. We leaped into a bottomless ravine, guided only by the faint light of Kaleneon’s restoration. That’s the kind of resolve we found that day.

They’d already jumped. Whatever shape the bottom might take, they’d inevitably reach it. And so, Luria was sure that Kaleneon would indeed be restored—sooner rather than later.

She looked over at her sister. Eva, burdened with even more thoughts than Luria, still couldn’t quite accept this reality. But that was okay, Luria thought. Even if she couldn’t embrace it all at once, what they needed to do wouldn’t change.

After all, we’re falling now. Even if we wanted to hesitate or stop, there’s no way to do so. We’re falling toward “that moment,” and that’s all we can do. Ha…

A smile graced Luria’s lips—a bright, clear smile of acceptance, as if a weight had finally lifted.

Ishu noticed the change in her expression and gave a slight nod. “Hm. That’s the face I wanted to see. Now, let’s move on. Next is construction and civil engineering. When you return to your country, this will be something you’ll have to oversee from beginning to end. How to secure the right people for it, how to train them… It’s a complicated matter.”

He closed the storeroom and started walking toward their next destination.

Luria grasped her sister’s hand and followed after him.

Before long, the two were led to an area at the rear of the settlement, where an expansive stretch of land greeted them. The underbrush had been cleared away, and all the trees uprooted, leaving the earth bare and exposed. It was a substantial area by any measure, but felt even larger.

There, dwarves and members of other races were working together—constructing houses, building roads, digging holes, shaping hills. It was a hive of construction activity.

“As you can see,” Ishu explained, “this is a place for learning, researching, and mastering construction and civil engineering. Of course, I can’t bring anyone here besides you two, but if you study the systems and techniques used here, you’ll be able to replicate facilities like this one back in your homeland.”

“Amazing,” Luria breathed, eyes wide with wonder. “They’re putting up entire houses in an instant!”

She couldn’t help it. Though single houses sometimes appeared seemingly overnight in Rotsgard, this was different—multiple houses of various shapes and styles were being built and torn down simultaneously, again and again. What’s more, each time they rebuilt, the details shifted subtly.

“That, huh?” Ishu followed her gaze. “You see, different races have different ideas of what makes a comfortable home. If we built an orc’s house, for example, it would be useless if an orc couldn’t actually live comfortably in it. So we do it that way—talking with each race, exchanging information, and working together to create the best possible home for them.”

“Um, over there?” Eva, who had been in a daze since they left the weapons storehouse, finally seemed to snap out of it enough to ask a question. She pointed to an area where stones of all shapes and thicknesses were stacked in neat piles, and members of all races—dwarves, winged folk, orcs, lizardfolk, and more—were bustling about.

“Oh, that’s the road paving,” Ishu explained. “Can you see the trenches they’ve dug next to the stacked stones?”

“No, I’m afraid I can’t,” Eva admitted. Her eyesight wasn’t great—she could make out the general scene but not the finer details.

Luria, however, had no trouble. “The widths and depths are all different. None of it looks uniform at all…”

“Hmph, so the younger sister’s got good eyes,” Ishu murmured, half to himself. “Looks like you’ve got more aptitude for this than your sister… and decent interpersonal skills to boot. Hm.”

Luria missed his muttered assessment and instead asked with innocent curiosity, “So that’s how they make roads? I’ve never seen it done before.”

“Yes, that’s right—at least according to our current methods, and even then, we’re still refining it. Ah, look, it’s about to start.”

As if his words were a signal, the workers paused what they were doing and stepped back. At that moment, a chorus of voices rose in a powerful incantation. The stacked stones began to rise into the air as if they possessed a will of their own, each piece settling precisely into place. With each impact—a heavy thud that reverberated across the ground—the stones were secured firmly.

In just under ten minutes, a fully paved road stood completed. It looked solid enough to bear the weight of carts, foot traffic, and horses alike, indistinguishable in quality from the grand thoroughfares found in the heart of any major city.

The road wasn’t a straight line; its width varied, and sharp curves were added at irregular intervals, making it clear that this was all part of a test. Once the sounds of construction ceased and the magic dissipated, the workers rushed back to their assigned sections, each carefully inspecting the results of their labor.

“To think such a long stretch of road could be completed in such a short time… If we had technology like this, even Rotsgard would be rebuilt in no time at all,” Eva murmured in genuine amazement.

“If that’s what Young Master wishes, we’d be happy to assist,” Ishu replied. “But for now, our priority is to put it to use in Kaleneon.”

“Ah… sorry,” Eva said hastily. “Of course, the chaos in Rotsgard will likely be settled first, so I… I got carried away. You’re right. We’re not Rotsgard anymore. We have to focus on Kaleneon now.” She lowered her gaze, letting the weight of her own words sink in.

“If roads and houses can be built that fast,” Luria said with wide eyes, “then rebuilding a city must be a breeze.”

“Not quite,” Ishu countered. “As you can see, this is all on flat, open ground—no obstacles to laying materials and no issues with manpower. But real terrain? That’s a different story. It’s uneven, it’s damp, it’s sloped in places. The time and effort needed for site preparation can’t be ignored.”

“Ah… that makes sense,” Luria replied, her expression turning serious. “Trying to build a city from scratch on rugged terrain would be like starting from negative instead of zero…”

They both fell silent, watching the continuous construction and civil engineering efforts with somber expressions. Ishu glanced at the Aensland sisters—Eva, the elder sister, and Luria, the younger—and, for the first time since their arrival in the Demiplane, a satisfied smile crossed his face.

Whether it was houses, roads, or site preparation, there was always a correct order to things. What to begin with, what to follow up on—each step had to be taken in turn. Even if they weren’t directly involved in the labor, Ishu wanted Eva and Luria to learn the right mindset through this demonstration of construction and engineering.

He was determined to make sure they absorbed it.

After a while, he clapped his hands and announced that it was time to move on. “Come on, let’s go. You’ll be visiting here many times, but there’s plenty more I want to show you.”

This time, both Eva and Luria met his gaze with steady, determined eyes and nodded. They followed him enthusiastically.

The technology, people, and knowledge that the elder dwarves would one day offer to Kaleneon—step by step, Ishu would lead them through each piece of that puzzle.

※※※

A while after nightfall had blanketed the village, the three of them returned to the same pillar of mist from which they’d arrived.

“Let’s call it a day for now,” Ishu said to the sisters. “There’s a room prepared for you at the Young Master’s residence. You can eat and rest there. Word’s already been sent ahead. Kate will show you around once you arrive.”

“Got it,” Eva replied, her voice betraying a faint weariness.

“Okay!” Luria’s tone was bright, her spirits lifted by the day’s experiences.

“It’s good to see you both in higher spirits than when you first arrived,” Ishu said, his gaze resting on Luria. “Especially you, Luria.”

“Oh, that pottery demonstration at the end was incredible!” she exclaimed. “I’d love to learn more about it!”

A pleased grin eclipsed Ishu’s rugged features. “Ah, you liked that, did you? It’s no surprise. Even among other races, many find themselves captivated by it. I’m glad to see hyumans are no different.”

Eva offered a wry smile and shook her head. “I… didn’t really enjoy the feeling of kneading the clay,” she admitted. Her expression was more animated than it had been that morning, albeit exhausted.

“That’s a common enough reaction,” Ishu reassured her. “Don’t worry about it. That technique is something Young Master himself taught us, and it’s perfectly fine for you to bring it back to Kaleneon. It might be tough, but you’ll need to experience it all at least once. Still, it seems like Luria might really embrace it and nurture the seed of pottery in Kaleneon’s soil.”

After a day of tours, explanations, and a few hands-on experiences, Ishu had begun calling them by name with ease, his expression growing a touch gentler as well. Not that either sister noticed—his natural sternness as a craftsman masked the change completely.

“Don’t worry, I’ll remember everything,” Luria remarked. “That moment—when I didn’t have to think about anything else—was pure bliss.”

A laugh rumbled from Ishu’s chest. “Ha! Yeah, I know what you mean. It really is the best. Seems like most of what I oversee suits you well. That means, Eva, you’ll have to shoulder more of the other responsibilities. Both of you, keep at it. I expect to see your efforts tomorrow.”

“Wait—‘other responsibilities’?” Eva asked, blinking at him.

Ishu only gave a mischievous, unreadable grin. “You’ll find out soon enough. My shift’s over for today. Go on—Kate’s waiting for you.”

Luria’s bright voice rang out again. “All right then! Goodnight, Ishu! Thank you for everything today!”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, see you tomorrow, Luria.”

“Thank you for your time. I look forward to working with you. Goodnight.” Eva bowed her head politely.

“Don’t mention it,” Ishu replied. Then, his voice softened. “Goodnight, Eva.”

That last word carried a fleeting tone of sympathy, but by the time Eva and Luria had turned their backs and entered the pillar of mist, that sentiment had vanished.

“Well, that’s one lesson down—not even a day, just the first period,” Ishu muttered to himself. With that, he turned and strode back toward the forge, ready to check on the kilns and get back to work.

Meanwhile…

No sooner had they completed the transfer and returned to the main house than the sisters found themselves face-to-face with a familiar cold-smiled highland orc woman.

“Welcome back, Aensland sisters. We highland orcs, oversee the second period. First, you’ll have a meal—don’t worry, there’s plenty prepared for you both—but after that, it’s time for your next lesson.”

“S-Second period?” Luria’s eyes widened in shock at the unexpected words. “I thought we’d have dinner, then say goodnight…”

A musical laugh—chilling despite its sweetness—escaped the woman orc’s lips. “Goodnight? That’s an amusing joke. Naturally, your rooms are ready. When you’ll actually get to use them is another question entirely.”

Without giving them a chance to argue, she turned on her heel and started walking away.

“W-Wait, what do you mean by that?! We’re having dinner now, right?! What kind of lesson is it?! And when exactly do we get to sleep?!” Luria scrambled after her, bombarding her with frantic questions.

“The lesson’s exactly that—a lesson. On food. Agriculture and hunting are vital anywhere, Kaleneon included, if you plan to survive. You’ll eat after the lesson. That’s how it is.” The Highland Orc’s tone left no room for debate.

“But—but you didn’t answer about when we’ll get to sleep!” Luria protested, fighting tears of exhaustion that threatened to spill over.

“Hmm. The first few days will take extra time, of course… so probably a few days from now? After that, it depends on you. Once we sort out your roles and responsibilities, you should be able to sleep every day… probably,” she added with a sinister lilt.

“No way…” Luria moaned in despair.

“Second period… second period… Does that mean there’s a sixth period too? I’ll definitely fall asleep in the middle of it…” Her shoulders slumped, and she practically folded in on herself.

Eva, meanwhile, shot her sister a sideways glance, calculating the time in her head. The result only deepened her own sense of hopelessness.

“Don’t worry, we won’t let you sleep,” the highland orc continued with unsettling cheer. “We’ll restore your stamina, and depending on the situation, even your willpower. But be careful about relying on us for that—it can be… addictive. And treating dependency is such a bother, so do your best on your own, all right?”

“Dependency?!” The sisters’ voices overlapped in shock. Among the string of ominous words that had spilled from Kate’s lips, that one in particular struck like a lightning bolt.

Kate smirked. “It’s not something to be so dramatic about. Besides, consider yourselves lucky. After all, I’m the one overseeing your first lessons.”

The sisters fell silent, staring at Kate with eyes that screamed, Where, exactly, is the luck in that?

“If it had been Ema—oh, she’s the girl officially tasked with training you two—if it had been her, well…”

“Well?”

Eva, who felt a strange sense of kinship toward this unknown woman whose name so resembled her own, cautiously urged Kate to continue.

“Let’s just say, she’d have broken you both a few times over by now. Ever since she started serving under Young Master, she’s gained this… unshakable backbone. Let’s say she’s taken to pushing people way past their limits.”

“…”

“At the very least, she’d expect you to pick up a new language—of a completely different race—on the first day. ‘First day’s not over till you’ve learned it’—that’s her motto. She’d carve it into your hearts and bodies alike. And by the end of it all, I imagine you’d be calling her Ema-sama. From the looks of you two so far, well… let’s just say she’d have a field day with you. Ufufufu.”

…

Eva and Luria both went pale with terror, expressions frozen in a rictus of dread. Kate, however, only laughed—a light, tinkling laugh that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Oh, but don’t worry. I’m still one of the gentler ones. Ema’s not due to join your lessons for some time yet. After all, you’re destined to become the heroes of Kaleneon. You can’t afford to quake in your boots at every little challenge now, can you?”

The lessons were far from over.

Cut off from the outside world, the sisters would have no idea how the larger world was turning. But within these walls, in a place they would later call the harshest period of their entire lives, a new chapter had begun—quietly, mercilessly, and with no room for refusal.

Author: Azumi Kei

Was born in Aichi Prefecture. In 2012, Kei began serializing Tsuki ga Michibiku Isekai Dochu (Tsukimichi: Moonlit Fantasy) on the web. It quickly became a popular series and won the Readers’ Choice Award at the 5th Alphapolis Fantasy Novel Awards. In May 2013, following revisions, Kei made their publishing debut with Tsuki ga Michibiku Isekai Dochu.

Illustrations by Mitsuaki Matsumoto

http://transparnaut.web.fc2.com/

This book is a revised and published version of the work originally posted on the website “Shosetsuka ni Naro” (http://syosetu.com/)

Footers

[←1]

This refers to the Japanese card game Babanuki (“Old Maid”), where the player stuck with the Joker at the end loses.

[←2]

Power Rangers.

[←3]

Io normally refers to himself using “watashi” but switches to “ore” in this scene, reflecting a shift in his tone.

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