Chapter III: Some Things Can’t Be Avoided by Putting on Airs

“You saved someone of your own accord! I’m so proud of you, Shere Khan! It was a flawless performance too. You truly have talent as a healer. Though really, I expected no less of my disciple.”

The girl was delighted, acting almost as if she had done a great deed herself. Several years had passed since she’d picked me up. After a few years, I understood the gulf in power between us, so I no longer snapped at her about one thing or another.

The incident this time had just happened on a whim. I’d found a therianthrope child on the ground, probably injured after being attacked by something. An unfamiliar, dirty, dying child didn’t really have anything to do with me. Or at least, that was supposed to be the case, but before I knew it, I’d started healing them.

I’d probably just wanted to test out my new power. That had been the only thing driving me, yet this girl came running over and started making a fuss about my deed. She ruffled my hair and even hugged me and rubbed her cheek against mine. She was truly annoying.

The therianthrope child stared at us all the while. I was used to being feared. I was well acquainted with disgust and hatred. However, this child’s gaze contained none of that. I stood there in bewilderment as the child gave me a huge smile.

“Thanks, mister tiger!”

The child waved and ran off. I was taken aback by such behavior, but the girl next to me simply peeked at my face with a smile.

“How does it feel to be thanked? Is this, perhaps, your first experience?”

Yes, that was indeed a first for me, but I didn’t say anything and averted my gaze. The girl hugged me as if to praise a child. I was nearly double her height, though...

“It’s not a bad feeling, is it?”

After my bewilderment faded, I did, in fact, feel somewhat happy. I couldn’t really explain it. But when I told her so, she whispered some rather interesting words to me with a captivating expression on her face.

“That feeling was my starting point. If you reach out a helping hand to someone in need, they can smile and keep moving forward. Is that not a wonderful thing?”

How stupid. That was a lofty ideal. It was delusional. Reality was far too filthy and wretched to condone it. People like me stole from others and trampled them underfoot. That was simply how the world worked. I understood her feelings, but how many fools would truly respond in kind? And yet, despite knowing all that, the girl smiled as if she accepted it.

“There are, of course, those who pay back kindness with resentment. Nevertheless, those who commit such deeds are also capable of doing things I never can. That is how the world keeps turning.”

Those didn’t seem like the words of the second generation’s Head Archdemon.

“Oh my,” she said with a curious giggle. “I’m not all-powerful, just so you know. I fail sometimes, and I don’t have the strength to save everyone. Saving someone doesn’t end after merely curing their wounds and illnesses, after all. Sorcery cannot heal wounds to the heart, and people need many things, from food to shelter, to continue surviving.”

Food required fields and livestock. Those who wanted clothing needed someone who could weave it for them. Houses required someone to cut stone, saw lumber, draw up plans, and in some cases, smelt iron. And clearly, all of that was far too much for a single person to manage.

“I won’t demand you live the same way,” the girl said, stretching up on her tiptoes to touch my cheek. “But I’d like you to at least understand how I do things. Once you do, you can decide how to live for yourself. I will accept it, and if you go down the wrong path, I’ll stop you.”

My chest hurt. It burned. For some reason, I felt like crying. Why did this girl go so far for someone like me? What was in it for her? She cocked her head curiously, and just as expected, she smiled as she always did.

“That’s what it means to love someone.”

I stood there in a daze, unaware of what that even meant.

“Haven’t I said this before? I will love you. Did you not believe me?”

It would’ve been far stranger to believe such a declaration out of the blue. She wasn’t offended by my remark, but instead nodded in comprehension.

“Well, maybe you’re right. That’s how I was when Marchosias picked me up.”

That was the first I’d heard of it. I did already know that she was the personal disciple of the first generation’s sole surviving Archdemon, Marchosias, but any further information eluded me.

“Now that I think about it, I never told you about my past, did I? Before becoming a sorcerer, I lived in the alleys and got all my food from the scraps thrown away by the roadside. It isn’t all that uncommon a story. In that age, countless people had lost everything they had to the War of Divinity.”

She paused there and shot me an impish smile.

“After Marchosias picked me up and taught me sorcery, I was full of myself and went about causing mischief. I was being pretentious, claiming I had to take revenge on the world... Well, I did, of course, go through some serious pain because of it.”

I grimaced at the familiar story. The girl continued, a smile on her face as if she found my reaction ever so lovely.

“Maybe that’s why I didn’t see you as a stranger and picked you up on a whim.”

Perhaps tired from standing on her tiptoes, the girl leaned against me.

“That’s why I can love you.”

I refused to believe in unconditional love. There was nothing so convenient in the world. And even if there was, anyone would’ve been fine for her. However, she apparently had a reason to look at me. She didn’t want just anyone. She chose me.

“You don’t need to believe me right now. You don’t even really need to come to understand me. But I’d like you to know one thing. There’s someone here who loves you.”

At first, I thought she was just spouting nonsense. I thought it was the arrogance of the strong showing pity for the weak. But I was wrong. She was honest to a fault. She truly did love a ruffian like me.

I believed she was necessary to this world. I knew my wish was far beyond my station, and I hadn’t forgotten what I’d done before meeting her. Nevertheless, I prayed that I could walk by her side. Spurred by an unexpected impulse that I’d never experienced before, I embraced the girl spontaneously. Her cheeks turned red and she smiled up at me.

“Thank you. I’d also like to walk by your side.”

I would stay by her for all eternity. And then, I would become strong enough to protect her. That had been my greatest desire, and yet...

“Why?! Marchosias?!”

The world betrayed her.

◇

“Sooo bittersweet! Meaning you’ve wandered around for eight hundred years, carrying these feelings that could never be conveyed?! What love power! This far surpasses anything I imagined!”

This took place several hours before Zagan clashed with the Nephilim army, around the time Barbatos, Behemoth, and Leviathan were wreaking havoc among the army.

How is she so...energetic?

The device restraining Enchantress Gremory was functioning properly. The petrification was steadily spreading across her entire body. It had even covered half of her face. About the only thing left was one of her eyes and her mouth. It should’ve taken everything she had just to breathe, let alone talk, but despite this, she’d been talking continuously ever since she woke up. What’s more, she’d been giving her impressions about Shere Khan’s memories that were apparently leaking out through the Sigil of the Archdemon. Some indiscernible sense of shyness swelled up within him, making him want to cover his face in shame. This was a first for him in all eight hundred years of his life.

“Umm... Could you...be quiet...already?”

“Kee hee hee! Are you embarrassed, Archdemon? You, who have exhausted every possible good and evil deed over these last eight hundred years? To think you’d show me such an adorable reaction. What do you intend to do by delighting me so?”

“No... I mean to say that...my subordinates...look troubled... I’d like you...to keep it down.”

The Tiger King’s body was already beyond recovery, even for a sorcerer. Just casting a simple spell required tremendous effort. He couldn’t send telepathic orders to the panicking Nephilims with so much noise around him. Gremory probably hadn’t noticed this, but she was contributing greatly to the chaos spreading among his army. Not only that, but she was a hostage, so he couldn’t kill her. Normally, she should’ve been fully petrified by now, but for some reason, it was going very slowly.

This woman was incapable of using sorcery at present. Balor’s Evil Eye required mana, so naturally, that was out of the question as well. These were facts. In that case, was she truly keeping the petrification at bay and continuously talking so energetically through sheer willpower alone? The thought was far more terrifying than the threat of any Archdemon.

Save me, Bifrons...

She seemed to be too much for Shere Khan to handle. He had nobody else to turn to for help, so he unintentionally prayed to Bifrons. He hadn’t sought aid from anyone even when Andrealphus had launched an attack on him, yet this situation made him want to resort to that. This was the very first time in his life that he implored the aid of another.

Just then, help arrived from an extremely unexpected source. The doors blew open with a thunderous roar, and the Nephilims who’d been standing guard flew into the room. Their mangled bodies struck the ground. There was no need to check whether they were alive.

“You’ll be returning Miss Gremory to me.”

A heroic leonin with a black mane entered the room. And upon seeing his old enemy burning with rage, Shere Khan felt relief fill his heart.

“Kimaris! You...came for me?” he exclaimed unintentionally.

“Huh...? Wait...why do you seem so happy?”

Kimaris looked utterly bewildered. He hadn’t expected this. That was all. Still, the situation wasn’t so simple that it could be summed up with such a cheap word. Things had far exceeded Kimaris’s expectations two or three times over. The situation had long since surpassed his capacity to understand. He’d come to save the woman he loved, yet here she was in high spirits while her abductor had his hands over his face like he was barely holding back tears.

Kimaris’s eyes had been filled with rage as he’d entered the room, but now they were steeped with a mix of emotions. He didn’t know whether to be angry, laugh, or sympathize. What’s more, he didn’t know whom to direct which emotions at. And so, he simply let out a resigned sigh. This was inevitable, in a sense. On the contrary, he was now aware of how much he’d lost himself for not considering this possibility. He managed to regain his composure...and before long, he turned his eyes to the restrained Gremory further inside the room.

“Mrgh, Kimaris?” she grumbled. “I’m busy right now. Hnnngh. It seems I’ve been directly connected to the Archdemon’s memories, you see. I’m being filled with unprecedented love power!”

Shere Khan still didn’t understand what she was saying, whereas Kimaris put his hand to his forehead as if he knew all too well.

“Um...I heard you were captured,” Kimaris said, “so...I was actually really worried.”

“Huh? Captured? Me?” Gremory asked, blinking in confusion for a moment before coming to a sudden realization. “Oh...right. I was captured. I’ve been treated with such grand hospitality that I forgot.”

She apparently had no awareness of being a prisoner here. Gremory coughed to gloss that matter over, then muttered meekly, “H-Hmph... Your concern is uncalled for. Who do you think I am? I can escape from this level of predicament on my own.”

Shere Khan held down his stomach, feeling a sudden pain from within. Unable to watch the Archdemon anymore, Kimaris flattened his ears apologetically.

“Ummm...it seems Miss Gremory has forgotten her manners. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t... I was the one...who captured her...”

“But it seems you’ve been treating her rather well, so...”

“What?!” Gremory cried in dissatisfaction. “I’m half-petrified here! And my mana’s getting sucked to the point where it feels like I’m dying!”

“But...I mean, it probably also serves as a life support system, so...”

Shere Khan was the culprit behind the atrocities of the rare species hunt, but he was also the sorcerer who’d taught Shax the art of healing. Regardless of its other functions, this device ensured that Gremory lived. The wound dealt by Andrealphus was fatal, and sorcery was slow to repair the damage. She’d been in a state where she was liable to pass away before recovering, so she’d been treated with her body in a near-death state this entire time. The petrification was one facet of the healing process.

The atmosphere had completely ruined the moment, but it wasn’t like Shere Khan had called Kimaris out to do battle. After taking a deep breath and judging that he couldn’t show his enemy such pitiful behavior, Shere Khan cut to the case.

“Let’s make...a trade...Kimaris.”

“R-Right. I thought it’d come down to this. Go ahead.”

Shere Khan understood Bifrons’s despair. Bifrons was supposed to hate him, so being looked at by the little Archdemon with sympathy, or even pity, had been unimaginably agonizing. He’d have preferred to be disparaged in every way possible. And yet, this was the very first time since he mourned Dantalian that he seriously felt like crying.

Nevertheless, the Tiger King mustered his willpower and held up a finger. With that, eight knife-like blades floated up in front of Kimaris. No, they weren’t blades... They were nails. Kimaris, and even Gremory, opened their eyes wide. They both knew exactly what these were.

“Hex Nails... The power...you once developed...to take revenge on me.”

It was also the power he’d offered to Shere Khan in a certain trade. There used to be ten of them, but two had already been used. It had been about seventy years now. Back then, Kimaris was just a child and Shere Khan had acted like a close friend before destroying his village in front of his eyes. That incident had made Shere Khan Kimaris’s sworn enemy.

“They were once the symbols of my power during my days as a monster...” Kimaris groaned. “You destroyed my entire village and left me alive so that I could develop them.”

“Indeed.”

After seeing his village destroyed, Kimaris had gone mad with hatred and devolved into a monster.

“The blood of ancient lions flows more densely in me than any other due to a case of atavism...and my hatred toward you allowed this power to fully blossom.”

“That’s...right.”

The blood of ancient lions was one of the most important factors of Azazel that Shere Khan had coveted. Many victims had been required to perfect it. By turning into a monster and bathing in the blood of thousands, the Hex Nails had fully manifested.

“And after this power manifested, you pillaged it from me.”

“Exactly.”

Kimaris hadn’t been the only victim of this plan. Recently, when Shere Khan had obliterated the cait sith village, he’d also left a single survivor with strong blood. Five hundred years ago, he’d cursed members of a rare species with strong blood to grant them unbearable agony. That method had proven unreliable, however, so he’d switched to the single survivor approach ever since.

Wounds inflicted by the Hex Nails couldn’t be closed. When Gremory stopped Kimaris’s rampage, she’d been torn up by those same nails. But in spite of that, the terrifying witch had acted like it was nothing, restored Kimaris’s humanity, and loved and educated him. Then, ten years ago, she’d finally collapsed from the damage. That had been a godsend for Shere Khan. In exchange for the Hex Nails, he had saved Gremory. Just how humiliating had it been for Kimaris to have the power he’d developed to take revenge on his nemesis stolen from him? Even now, Kimaris’s body boiled with rage over the thought.

Kimaris’s life has somewhat resembled my own.

When he was but a child, Kimaris had been quick to pick fights that were beyond him and caused trouble for all those around him. This was actually proper conduct compared to Shere Khan’s childhood, but perhaps he’d actually felt sympathy with the boy back in those days. He’d never imagined Kimaris would end up being saved by a witch too, though.

Maybe we’re not all that similar in the end.

The glaring difference was that Kimaris wasn’t yet mourning the witch he loved.

“Use these...to take...Archdemon Zagan’s...head,” Shere Khan said, holding up the Hex Nails all the while. “If you do...I’ll save...this woman. It’s the...same trade...as before.”

It was the same act of humiliation. Kimaris’s hatred for Shere Khan surpassed his loyalty to Zagan. Or at least, that should’ve been the case.

“It’ll be all right, Miss Gremory,” Kimaris said, narrowing his eyes nostalgically. “I won’t do anything foolish this time.”

Shere Khan shot Gremory a curious glance. Her noisy mouth had turned to stone and only a single eye could move now.

“It will be fine, I promise,” Kimaris repeated with a gentle smile. “Please don’t worry. Believe in me, the one to whom you showed love. And believe in our king.”

It was questionable whether his words had actually reached her. As if she had exhausted the last of her strength, the terrifying witch turned completely to stone. It had been eight hundred years since Shere Khan had become a sorcerer, yet he’d never felt so driven into a corner before meeting her. It hadn’t really been a crisis or anything, but the plans that had gone exactly as Shere Khan had envisioned were now noticeably thrown off for the very first time.

“There’s no need to worry. I’ll put all my strength into fighting Sir Zagan,” Kimaris said as he accepted the Hex Nails. “Even if I kill you now, I have no way of treating Miss Gremory. Thus, I have no choice but to obey you.”

Kimaris would challenge Zagan just as Shere Khan had planned. But this wasn’t what he truly wanted. The Hex Nails were fueled by hatred, so in this state, Kimaris wouldn’t be able to touch Zagan. Everything up until now had been ideal, but Gremory’s behavior had returned Kimaris to his senses. The leonin still had an important role to fill in his plans, so this threw things off. And as Kimaris started to leave, he turned to tell Shere Khan one last thing.

“Oh, right, it seems you see yourself in me, but from my perspective, I believe my liege is the one who understands you best.”

Kimaris had seen through him, but what did that mean? How could Zagan have possibly understood Shere Khan? With unease building in his heart due to a mountain of burning questions, Shere Khan was left all alone atop his throne.

◇

And so, Kimaris blocked Zagan’s way. Zagan had been betrayed by his trusted right-hand man, but he smiled wryly in relief nonetheless.

“From the look of it, Gremory is fine...” he said to the leonin. “Well, she’s not the kind of woman to die from a simple attempt on her life.”

Kimaris nodded with a pained expression on his face, then replied, “Umm...yes. How do I even explain? It seems she was quite the bother after being captured.”

“I see... How unfortunate for Shere Khan.”

Even though Shere Khan was a sworn enemy who’d done so much harm to them, the two men present felt honest sympathy for the Archdemon.

I get it now. Gremory was the one who accomplished such a splendid feat.

There was no way Kimaris would’ve sat still if Gremory had been hurt. And yet, he’d returned from the confrontation with his usual temperament intact. Even once captured, the terrifying witch had protected him.

“Are you not angry?” Kimaris asked, blinking unexpectedly at Zagan’s reaction.

“Gremory was captured because I failed to see through my enemy’s trap. I have no intention of faulting your actions after she’s been taken hostage due to my negligence.”

“I truly am glad to have served you,” the kind leonin replied with a smile.

“I’m telling you not to worry about it. More importantly, I’m in a hurry. I’m not telling you to lend me a hand, but could you stand aside?”

Kimaris showed no signs of yielding the path, however, and he responded, “Sir Zagan. You seem to be misunderstanding something.”

“Hmm...?”

“I have not been reduced to a pitiful, feral beast due to a hostage. Nor have I lost myself to rage due to Miss Gremory’s injuries,” Kimaris paused there and held out his hand, clenching his fist. “My liege. Please forgive this misguided sorcerer. I want to know... I want to know who is stronger between us.”

His voice was gentle despite the ferocious smile on his face. His words shook the air, causing the heroes surrounding the two men to take a step back. Faced with the hardy challenge, Zagan returned a smile of his own.

“That is what makes you my right-hand man. I wouldn’t have awarded the post to someone who lacked ambition.”

Kimaris probably would’ve never seriously bared his fangs at Zagan if not for something of this scale. As such, this was a perfect opportunity. These two had made their names as Archdemon candidates using only their fists. What’s more, they were driven by similar things. The question of who was stronger in a straight fight could only be answered by clashing. And without ever getting a definitive answer, the thought would’ve lingered in their minds for all eternity.

Zagan stomped on a broken sword at his feet. The weapon bounced up into the air and settled itself in his hand.

“Come at me as you will. I’ll hold nothing back,” Zagan declared, throwing the sword high above him. It drew a gentle arc, looking strangely slower than it should’ve been.

The soldiers in the area all forgot the situation and held their breaths. The falling sword blocked Zagan and Kimaris’s line of sight to each other for a single instant, which acted as the signal to start.

The sword shattered with a deafening clang. Zagan’s and Kimaris’s fists collided where the weapon had just been. The two of them had aimed for the exact same spot. The sword had been one wielded on a battlefield of heroes. It was of no simple make. Despite that fact, however, it had been reduced to atoms like crumbling sand without leaving so much as a scratch on either man’s fist.

Zagan stepped in with his right foot and thrust out his left fist. The difference in their statures was clear. Kimaris brought his left fist downward to meet the blow. A second collision caved in the ground beneath them and sent the soldiers around them flying back. A dull crack could then be heard mingling with the terrifying shock wave.

“Gh!”

Both their fists had broken. Well, not just their fists. Their arms were crushed all the way up to their elbows, laying muscle bare and exposing bones. When copying Zagan’s punch, Shax’s arm had been unable to withstand the force, but this was different. This had happened precisely because Kimaris’s punch had exactly the same destructive force behind it as Zagan’s.

Even when Zagan refrained from using sorcery and exchanged blows with Decarabia, he hadn’t suffered such damage. Sharp pain pierced his brain, threatening to overwhelm his consciousness, but Zagan gritted his teeth and clenched his right fist. He then swung and connected with Kimaris’s jaw, but at the same time, Kimaris slammed his fist into Zagan’s face. Fresh blood splattered across the ground. The impact shook his brain and caused his knees to buckle, but he had his left fist ready again soon enough.

Being the strongest at reinforcing one’s body was synonymous to being the best at regenerating one’s body. Zagan’s broken hand had already been repaired, while his cracked cranium was in the middle of being restored. However, the same went for Kimaris.

Looks like I can’t devour his sorcery fast enough.

Zagan had said that he wouldn’t hold anything back, so he was, of course, giving this battle everything he had. The ability to devour sorcery was one major aspect of Zagan’s strength, so he was more than willing to put it to use. He wasn’t only devouring bold moves like the Black Claws and Heaven’s Phosphor Tornado the moment they were cast, but even sorcery employed for reinforcement and healing. And yet, he couldn’t devour all the sorcery reinforcing and mending Kimaris’s body. The lion’s fists were too fast and couldn’t be stopped. In other words, as someone who rendered his opponents powerless by absorbing any and all sorcery, Kimaris was his natural enemy. Though, one could also have said that Zagan was abnormal for having the mental capacity to even devour sorcery during such a vicious exchange of blows.

Zagan’s fist dug into Kimaris’s flank. He could feel ribs breaking and stabbing the leonin’s lungs, but a fist still plunged into Zagan’s liver as if ignoring such damage completely. Nevertheless, Zagan stood his ground and headbutted Kimaris in the jaw, and was then met with a double ax-handle punch from above.

“Ha ha!”

Zagan let out an unintentional laugh, much like some innocent boy. This was the first opponent he had ever faced who wouldn’t collapse from a full-strength punch. Barbatos never died from such a blow, but he also couldn’t retaliate so ferociously. Decarabia had just been a rampaging brat, and it hadn’t even been a fight. Andrealphus was mighty, but had still collapsed after getting hit. This man was the only one who’d taken a full-force blow from Zagan and responded in kind.

The audience didn’t share in Zagan’s delight, however.

“Run away! You’ll get caught in the cross fire!”

“Aaaaaargh!”

“They’re coming this way!”

“Eeek! They’re not human!”

“Save the injured!”

Every single strike triggered a shock wave capable of shattering an Archdemon’s fist. The earth caved in and the air burst around them. Their fistfight became a storm that ravaged the battlefield. Simply being there was the same as forfeiting one’s life. Even as the soldiers tried to run away with their injured comrades in tow, the shock waves blew over their backs, sending them tumbling to the ground. Oddly enough, Zagan’s strategy of using the injured to hamper the healthy soldiers now gave birth to a tremendous wave of casualties.

◇

Several sorcerers on the very same battlefield watched the fistfight from afar.

“Tch... He sure seems to be having fun,” Barbatos said.

Now that the battle had begun, their job was pretty much done. All that was left was to observe the situation and kill anyone who tried to organize a command structure. Still, if they retired now, Barbatos could claim to have fulfilled Zagan’s request sufficiently. That was why he chose to sit back and enjoy the show. However, he seemed displeased with what he was watching.

“Oh my. You look awfully annoyed by that,” Behemoth said teasingly, having already finished his job as well.

“Hah! How could I possibly feel good watching that asshole play around at a time like this?”

“Is that really all it is?”

“What’re you trying to say?”

Why does he look like he’s having so much more fun than when he’s punching me?

Well, it would’ve also been a problem if Zagan enjoyed punching Barbatos to that extent, but for whatever reason, he felt extremely dissatisfied by the sight.

“Don’t worry,” Behemoth said with a chuckle. “I’m pretty sure you’re Zagan’s only fighting buddy.”

“Huuuh? Who the hell is that asshole’s buddy?!”

“What? You’re not?” Behemoth replied with a curious smile.

“Still, I don’t get why he looks so happy...” Levia said with a cock of her head. “Kimaris betrayed him.”

“Right, being close enough to fight...isn’t quite the case here,” Behemoth answered. “I suppose it’s something like his relationship with Barbatos.”

“Mhm. I can tell just by looking.”

“I’m telling ya I’m not really pals with him or nothing,” Barbatos complained.

However, Behemoth ignored him and continued, “Well, it’s a little different from that as well... How do I put this...? Men are stupid creatures. We get engrossed in fisticuffs. That’s what’s happening to Zagan now.”

“Hmm...” Levia muttered in confusion. “I don’t get the instinct behind it...but I do think he looks cool.”

“Huh?!” Behemoth exclaimed, clearly shocked. However, Levia simply continued to stare at the fistfight unfolding before them.

◇

Meanwhile, in another place far away from the battlefield.

“Zagan is certainly entranced with an awfully savage game...” Bifrons said in a fed up tone.

“Oh? I was under the impression that you actually liked being hit,” Naberius replied, finding Bifrons’s words somewhat unexpected.

“An opponent who exceeds your expectations and strikes you is fun.”

In truth, Zagan always came in and struck Bifrons from an unexpected direction. And it wasn’t like Bifrons was simply sitting around defenselessly waiting to get hit either. Such unexpected blows brought so much pleasure that even the pain felt endearing.

“But what’s so fun about a fistfight?” Bifrons added. “It just hurts, and it isn’t a sorcerer’s way. There’s nothing smart about it.”

During one of their many clashes, Bifrons had dived toward Zagan and prepared to take a hit. However, that plan had involved enduring a single strike to get one up on him. Thus, they couldn’t understand the meaning of such a thoughtless exchange of blows.

“Hee hee hee. Men are charmed by such manly acts.”

“Charmed, huh...?” Bifrons replied with an astonished sigh.

One year ago, Shere Khan had recommended Kimaris for the seat of Archdemon. From Bifrons’s point of view, the leonin was a boring sorcerer like Andrealphus who had nothing going for him but brute strength. After it had been decided that Zagan would take the seat, Bifrons hadn’t really paid Kimaris any mind. Yet now, the sorcerer was strong enough to stand his ground in a head-on fight with Zagan. Thus, Bifrons had to admit that he’d grown.

I still don’t understand what’s so fun about it, though.

Bifrons touched their own cheek. Back when they’d messed with Zagan in Raziel, he’d punched Bifrons mercilessly in the face. Bifrons had tried to gouge out Zagan’s heart in turn, but had only got as far as lightly digging their nails into his skin. Thinking back on it now, had that stinging sensation been fun? Either way, the way the two men were enjoying themselves appeared different.

“I just don’t get it...” Bifrons mumbled.

“Hee hee hee. A well-trained body is a beautiful thing. Men are creatures who can’t be satisfied with leaving such a thing as mere decoration.”

Bifrons prayed from the bottom of their heart that this laughing beholder would just leave them alone.

◇

Zagan and Kimaris’s fight dyed the soil red with blood, but it showed no signs of reaching its conclusion.

Going at it with all my might is fun, but I’m starting to run out of time here.

Before Zagan knew it, the skies had started to darken. He’d been exchanging blows all morning. Even a sorcerer would feel some fatigue from all that work, so it was about time to settle things. With that thought in mind, Zagan changed his approach. As Kimaris’s fist closed in on him, he warded off the blow with an almost gentle motion.

“Hm?!”

Kimaris’s body carried its momentum and twisted through the air, slamming his back onto the ground. The impact caved in the earth and even carved canyon-like cracks through their surroundings, swallowing the hapless soldiers around them into their depths. This hadn’t been the work of Zagan’s strength, however. It was simply how much destructive force Kimaris’s fist possessed. But oddly enough, it was Zagan who was left wide-eyed in the aftermath.

He still managed to break his fall?!

It had looked like a defenseless tumble, but Kimaris had managed to curl his back and stave off the impact. He then followed that up with an attack of his own by lunging for the back of Zagan’s neck.

“Gah!”

This time it was Zagan being thrown through the air. It was a one-handed throw that couldn’t really be called an art, though. Zagan rolled through with ease and rose to his feet.

“What’s wrong? You seem to be lacking the means to deliver a decisive blow,” Zagan said. Though, he was clearly putting on airs. Zagan was the one lacking such a thing.

I said I wouldn’t hold anything back, but I can’t use Heaven’s Phosphor on my precious subordinate.

That power was meant for killing Archdemons and Azazel. It wasn’t a tool to be used in a brawl. Having said that, applications of Heaven’s Scale such as the Eastern and Western Sky couldn’t keep up with Kimaris’s speed. Heaven’s Ring could, but that merely increased Zagan’s speed without doing anything to boost his offensive potential. In other words, he had nothing at hand to deal with an opponent who couldn’t be felled by his fist.

“Heh heh, I wonder about that...” Kimaris said with a smile as if he’d been waiting for those words. “Maybe I still have something up my sleeve.”

With that, pitch-black nails stretched out from Kimaris’s hand.

I see. So he’s been the one matching my pace, not the other way around.

It was standard for a beast to fight using their fangs and claws, yet Kimaris had been fighting with just his fists thus far. The nails seethed with ominous mana. Just looking at them brought on a bout of dizziness. This wasn’t sorcery. Having said that, he couldn’t sense anything natural about them either. It might have been something similar to Gremory’s Balor’s Evil Eye, but that seemed suspect... Before long, however, Zagan realized exactly what these nails truly were.

“Don’t tell me... Are those Hex Nails?”

Zagan had seen a reference to them in ancient legends. Just as its name implied, they were cursed nails that only a small fraction of leonins were said to be able to manifest. They said that wounds inflicted by these nails couldn’t be healed and would bleed for all eternity.

I see. This curse must be the thing connected to Azazel that Shere Khan covets.

There were similar powers across many races throughout the ages. Liucaon’s three royal families were prime examples of that: the cait siths’ great fortune, the succubi’s ability to manipulate dreams, and the sirens’ Hex Songs.

“I expected as much. You already know its name,” Kimaris said as he steadily poised himself for battle with the nails held forward. “Will you be able to dodge this, though?”

Zagan had been fighting the entire day. There was fatigue to consider on top of the difference in physical strength and endurance between a human and a leonin. As a species, humans had no way of competing...and that fact sent an instinctive shudder through Zagan’s body. It wasn’t due to fear, though. It came from delight. Kimaris had been hiding something that could overturn the entire situation. He’d been waiting for the instant when he would definitely be able to reach Zagan with these nails.

So he’ll do everything in his power to win, huh?

That made Zagan happy. Zagan had approached this like a brawl, but in contrast, Kimaris had paid no heed to appearances and had challenged Zagan with his body and spirit on the line.

“Very well, then. Come at me!” Zagan declared.

“Take this!” Kimaris roared as he held the nails high in the air, far beyond where it looked like they could reach.

“Huh?!”

The black nails rushed toward Zagan, creating gales in their wake. But even when faced with this fierce attack, he didn’t suffer any direct hits. Though his robes were in tatters and the exposed skin of his face and hands were wet with fresh blood, they were caused entirely by the destruction of his sturdy barriers. Four fissures ran through the earth behind him and stretched out as far as the eye could see.

Having spontaneously focused entirely on defense in the heat of the moment, Kimaris was now right in front of him, swinging in with one more nail.

“Like that’d work!” Zagan exclaimed as he brushed aside the blow by the wrist.

I won’t suffer a lethal blow so long as I keep the nails away from me.

With his all-out attack repelled, Kimaris’s balance was broken. His abdomen was wide open, so Zagan drove his fist in with all his might. He aimed the strike precisely at Kimaris’s vital organs, but the leonin’s massive body didn’t budge an inch.

“What...?”

Zagan’s fist could even reduce steel to atoms, but it did nothing to Kimaris’s muscles. Not only that, but even the wounds caused indirectly by the nails weren’t regenerating.

“It seems you’re out of mana.”

Zagan had developed his sorcery so that he could fight alone. His greatest spells like Heaven’s Scale were excessively efficient. No matter how many enemies he faced, he could continue striking them until they were all gone. That was Zagan’s way of fighting. However, at its roots, this advantage was borne of devouring sorcery...and Zagan’s opponents hadn’t been using sorcery during this battle. Even Kimaris had only poured all his mana into reinforcing his own body, so the amount of mana to be devoured was minuscule.

In other words, Zagan had depleted his own reserves of mana. This was a first for him. Perhaps that was why Shere Khan had resurrected these heroes from an age before sorcery.

He really got me...

Zagan’s body was still strengthened somewhat, but he no longer possessed the destructive force required to damage Kimaris’s body. At this final hour, even his fist had been sealed.

Kimaris mercilessly brought down another nail. Zagan dove to the ground in order to avoid it, but was greeted by a kick to the face, sending him flying backward. The reinforcement to his body was wearing out, so he could no longer react to Kimaris’s movements. Kimaris also rivaled Zagan when it came to martial arts, so Zagan had nothing left to help him stand on even ground with the leonin, let alone get the upper hand on him.

I can’t win?

Defeatist words came to his mind, but that only brought exaltation. No man had ever cornered him so badly. Kimaris’s next thrust came in without showing any hesitation or carelessness.

Just two more! Hold it together! Zagan thought as he gathered his resolve and prepared to meet the blow.

“It’s over!” Kimaris roared.

“Hmph! Bring it on!”

Zagan no longer had a means of evading. Thus, Kimaris’s Hex Nail plunged into his torso with a dull thud.

“Gah...” Zagan gasped as he vomited blood. With that, everyone was sure the battle was over. “Aaargh!”

Mustering the last of his strength, Zagan struck the Hex Nail in his torso from the side. Intense pain ran through his brain as it gouged open his wound further before snapping.

“What?!”

By the time Kimaris’s eyes shot open in shock, Zagan was already behind him. He then wrapped his right arm around the leonin’s neck, grabbed his left elbow, and pressed his left forearm into the back of his neck. He caught Kimaris in a rear naked choke using the tiniest opening born from the surety of victory.

Kimaris’s thick neck creaked like an enormous tree cracking apart. This technique wasn’t some half-hearted choke meant to simply starve his opponent of oxygen. It was meant to cut off the flow of blood and crush the windpipe and hyoid bone at the same time.

Kimaris did, of course, try to tear Zagan away, but his arm stopped halfway up. A Hex Nail still extended from his hand. If he tried grabbing the arm around his neck now, he would tear open his own throat.

“Gaaargh!” Kimaris yelled as he thrashed about violently, jumping back and slamming Zagan into the ground. However, even exhausted of mana, Zagan refused to relax his hold. Any attempts by Kimaris to restore his blood flow or respiration by use of sorcery were devoured, in turn granting Zagan more strength. The leonin could only rely on brute force.

To a sorcerer, battle was all about dragging an opponent into your arena. In the very last moment, Zagan had been the one to do so. Kimaris mustered the last of his will to resist, but struggling simply tightened Zagan’s choke hold.

“Gah... Agh...”

Before long, Kimaris’s tongue went limp and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. The gallant leonin’s enormous body sank to the ground with a thud.

“Haaah... Haaah...” Zagan released his hold and fell to his knees with ragged breaths.

I would’ve lost if that didn’t work...

It had truly been Zagan’s very last resort. He had nothing left in the tank after that, so he simply let out a long breath as Kimaris broke into a coughing fit.

“Gak! Hak... Ugh...”

“Haaah... Haaah... That’s my win...Kimaris.”

“But...with that wound... Hak!”

Zagan smiled, looking down at the Hex Nail still lodged deep in his torso. Seeing that, Kimaris’s expression clouded over.

I’ll definitely die if this is left in me.

Even though he’d won the fight, dying would be the same as losing. Kimaris would be the survivor, after all. But even so, Zagan smiled.

“I told you to come at me with everything you had. This is nothing for you to worry about.”

“But...!”

Instead of saying anything else, Zagan held up his right hand.

I don’t have enough mana myself, but...

The Sigil of the Archdemon glowed faintly, unleashing a tremendous amount of mana. With his reserves replenished, Zagan’s wounds began to heal. This brought further despair upon the soldiers in the area.

“No way. What the hell is that...?”

“Has everything up until now not even been a fight in his eyes?”

However, even if his mana could be replenished by use of the Sigil, the wounds dealt by the Hex Nail couldn’t be healed. Nevertheless, Zagan pulled the nail out of his stomach.

“Sir Zagan! You’ll bleed out!”

Without the nail there, his wound opened, pouring a large quantity of blood out onto the ground.

“I told you not to worry. Heaven’s Scale Prayer’s Shell.”

“The wound dealt by the Hex Nail is closing...?” Kimaris muttered, his eyes wide in shock.

It should’ve been impossible to heal, but the wound closed in an instant. This wasn’t an act of healing after all, but an act of creation. Zagan had learned to do this when restoring Alshiera’s statue. When used on the spur of the moment, the materialization of mana had made it necessary to take mana from Furcas. However, at the time, Zagan had learned the technique to materialize mana to imitate real organs. He’d hypothesized that this could be used to save Nephteros and had hence used it on Richard as a trial run.

Still, the mana conversion rate was poor, and it couldn’t be put into practice on Nephteros. That was why Zagan had focused his research on Heaven’s Scale, his invincible shield that strengthened itself ad infinitum by absorbing mana from its surroundings. With such strength, the shield was endlessly close to being physical matter. And by using it and his two prior experiences with mana materialization, he’d managed to complete the development of the sorcery known as Heaven’s Scale Prayer’s Shell.

This sorcery materialized mana to replace lost body parts. It could even recreate anything lost to powers like Heaven’s Phosphor, which devoured all existence. In this instant, Heaven’s Scale truly became the counter to Heaven’s Phosphor.

Seeing a wound that should’ve brought certain death close in an instant, Kimaris fell to a knee before Zagan.

“You have utterly defeated me, my liege. You surpass me in every regard.”

“That’s not true. This is the first time I’ve ever been cornered so badly. Come at me again whenever you wish.”

Even if he had done so after the fight was over, this had also been the first time that he’d had to resort to using the Sigil of the Archdemon.

“Of course... Really, you’ve bested me outright,” Kimaris said with a troubled smile before standing up unsteadily and turning his back to Zagan. “My liege. Please leave the cleanup to me. I’ll at least put in an effort to make up for the time you spent for my sake. You may go on ahead.”

“I’ll leave this in your hands, then. Come after me when you’re done. You have a duty to see the conclusion to this battle.”

“As you will.”

Many of the Nephilims had gotten caught in the clash between Zagan and Kimaris. In the aftermath, thanks to Kimaris’s efforts, over fifteen hundred soldiers perished. Counting those dealt with by Barbatos’s team, that number reached two thousand.

All of this combined to roughly twenty percent of their total forces, so they still numbered eight thousand. Nevertheless, as Zagan marched onward, looking perfectly composed, they could do nothing but tremble and watch.

With that, the curtains fell on the first day of battle.

◇

Several hours had passed since Zagan and Kimaris’s clash. Now draped in the utter darkness of the night, Nephy and Orias found that in a deserted town.

“Kee hee hee. Aaah, alas, what naughty children. Where have you hidden my beloved’s eye and left hand? I’ll never let you get away.”

A girl with a face identical to Nephy’s floated in the air. Eerie black crests colored her once beautiful tan skin like blood vessels. There was no hint of sanity behind her golden eyes, and her disheveled silver hair was rapidly losing its luster.

Her most abnormal features, however, were the eight wings of light sprouting from her back. Alshiera and the others had destroyed some, but the monster had apparently regained her power since that battle. As such, these cursed wings unleashed sinister mana that far surpassed the Sigils of the Archdemon. Simply looking at them weighed heavily on Nephy’s heart.

“Nephteros...!”

Nephy called her little sister’s name. She thought back to the time Bifrons had once treated this girl as a sacrificial pawn and thrown her away, back when Nephy first wished to save her. Even now, she couldn’t forget the look of utter despair on Nephteros’s face when she’d been swallowed by the sludge.

Why does she have to go through all this?! Nephy thought as resentment boiled up within her heart.

“Zagan claimed that he would save her,” Orias said, placing a hand on Nephy’s shoulder. “Believe in your lover.”

“Right...”

The word “lover” made Nephy red to the face, but she still managed to give her a reassuring nod.

“Besides, it seems there’s more hope than I thought there’d be,” Orias added quietly.

“What do you mean, mother?”

Orias pointed up at “Nephteros” and replied, “Although she’s rampaged around, there’s strangely little damage done to the area. It seems someone’s scheming has lured the thing to this spot, but that’s not all there is to it.”

“D-Do you mean Nephteros is still conscious?”

“I can’t be sure, but I believe it means she’s still fighting.”

With that, Orias flung off her robes, revealing the Anointed Armor beneath. She had a crest of a cross and a lion on her chest and a slender sword hanging from her waist. This was her figure as a knight, the one she had when Nephy had met her in the Holy City Raziel. This wasn’t Archdemon Orias, but Fairy Queen Oberon Nimueh Titania.

“I didn’t think I would ever appear like this again,” Orias said with a sigh, transforming from an old woman to a young lady that was about the same age as her daughter. “Nephy, lend me Azazel’s Staff.”

“Y-Yes.”

Nephy held out the worn-out broom that contrasted its name.

“I’ve explained how it works during our lessons in celestial mysticism, but this will be my first time actually showing it to you. Watch closely,” Orias explained. She held Azazel’s Staff across her hands like an offering and quietly whispered, “Hex Wings.”

Azazel’s Staff glimmered faintly...and light gathered at Orias’s back, taking on the form of wings.

So this is the true power of Azazel’s Staff...

The tool amplified a high elf’s power beyond their limits. And in doing so, they manifested what were called Hex Wings. This was how she’d defeated the preceding Archdemon Orias. However, unlike “Nephteros,” Orias’s wings glowed, exuding a beautiful, pallid light, and she only had six of them.

“To think that I’m of lower rank...” Orias said with a smile. “It seems this will be quite the task.”

When Zagan had told her of the number of wings, Orias had looked like she was resolved for death. Just two extra wings meant that much of a difference in power, apparently. However, this time, Orias had something that she hadn’t had when challenging her predecessor. She took the staff in her left hand and held out her right.

“Now then, will the Sigil of the Archdemon make up for two Hex Wings? I suppose I’m about to find out.”

Mana flooded out from Orias’s body as she floated into the air.

Amazing! Her power is on par with that thing...

Nephy could sense that, with the Sigil, Orias rivaled “Nephteros’s” power. However, in the next instant, Nephy was made to realize that Azazel was no seraph, but a god.

“Seraphs...? Aaaaaah!”

“Gah!”

“Nephteros” suddenly shrieked, elevating her mana even further. A destructive force accompanied it, rivaling the Sludge Demon Lord and forcing Nephy to cover her ears.

“Aaah! You wretched seraphs! You dare to stubbornly cling to this world?! Alas! How repulsive! How filthy! Every single breath from your ilk is the gravest of sins!”

Despite being several hundred meters away, her voice shook the air to such an extent that Nephy could hear it resounding directly in her head.

“Seraphs... The ones Master Zagan spoke of?”

But why would such a word be directed at Nephy and Orias?

Elves inherited the blood of ancient gods.

His life could be said to have been a battle against such beings.

The high elves’ numbers decreased drastically, and now they’re on the verge of extinction.

Azazel, Marc, and Alshiera’s lifelong enemy.

There are no gods in this world. If there are, then they are within us.

The answer had been presented to her long ago.

Oh, so that’s what it means. Elves are... No, high elves are... Nephy came to realize the truth of the matter. But a single question remained in her mind: Did Zagan know of this?

“Nephy! She’s coming!”

Orias’s voice brought her back to her senses. “Nephteros” was already drawing nearer with a spear made of light in hand. Orias lunged forth with her sword to intercept.

“Ugh! What power...!”

“Nephteros,” powered by her eight Hex Wings, overwhelmed Orias. The Sigil of the Archdemon wasn’t enough. Having reacted late, Nephy had no time to get anything ready to help.

It’s no good!

And just as her body froze at the thought...

“Not on my watch!”

A crimson fist cut in between Orias and “Nephteros.”

Chastille? No, it’s someone else.

It was a boy with the same red hair and eyes as Chastille. A gauntlet made entirely of mana had forced its way between the crossing blades and stopped them.

“Kee hee hee...” “Nephteros” chuckled, then smiled with an expression of both hatred and joy. “Oh my, we meet again. What a naughty child. This time I shall pulverize you properly.”

“Hah! Let’s see you try!” the boy exclaimed as he twisted his fist, sending the tip of the spear and sword springing upward.

A parry!

His fighting style used those arts that Zagan seldom demonstrated.

“Ugh?!”

“Hup!”

“Nephteros” lost her balance, allowing the boy to swing his gauntlet at her wings. However, she dodged it by flying up into the sky.

“Tch! Guess I won’t get one so easy, huh?” he mumbled to himself. And now that “Nephteros” was some distance away, the boy glanced over to Nephy and Orias. “Erk... Seraphs on this side too? Dammit, Ashy, say that kinda stuff beforehand.”

Being faced with such disgust, Nephy actually regained her presence of mind.

Somehow, being faced with such contempt is rather nostalgic.

Back in the day, during her years in the hidden elven village, everyone looked at her like she was filthy trash. Compared to those gazes, the boy’s eyes were those of someone looking at her like a proper person—even if there was something of a grudge behind them. Also, it turned out her guess about seraphs was right.

His actions felt like something of a rebuke for losing her presence of mind earlier. And so, although it was a little out of place, Nephy decided to bow lightly to the boy.

“Thank you for your assistance. Were you sent by Lady Alshiera?”

“Y-Yeah...” the boy answered with a confused look. “I’m Asura. Ashy told me to protect you two.”

“Then, though it seems that it doesn’t sit right with you, we’ll be in your care for a little while. We must save that girl,” Nephy said with a smile.

The boy—Asura—ruffled his hair like he’d been completely thrown off by her behavior, then replied, “Looks like you’re awfully different from the seraphs I know. Sorry for saying somethin’ so rude.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Thanks to him, she’d managed to regain her composure, so she didn’t feel like complaining at all.

“So wait, does that make you this friend Ashy mentioned having?” Asura asked with a grin.

“Huh? Umm...”

Nephy did, of course, see Alshiera in a good light, but could she claim to be a friend?

I think he’s probably referring to Foll...

Nephy pondered over how to answer for a bit when Orias cut in for her and answered, “A friend? Perhaps that would be me?”

“Hmm? How’re you related?” Asura asked.

Orias’s lips twisted in amusement and she said, “To borrow a childish term, I suppose you could call us mom friends.”

Asura wasn’t the only one taken aback by her answer.

Mom friends...? Does she mean they are fellow mothers? Lady Alshiera...a mother? Whose mother, then?

Nephy had promised not to pry at or ponder Alshiera’s identity, but she couldn’t stop her instincts in the moment.

“The time for small talk is over,” Orias said, turning a stern gaze toward “Nephteros,” who was brandishing her spear once more.

“Don’t take it head-on!” Asura shouted. “Aim for the Hex Wings. Oh, and don’t bother trying your seraph songs. It’ll be plundered by a higher-ranking seraph.”

“Seraph songs... Do you mean celestial mysticism?” Nephy asked.

Nephy had once stolen control of Nephteros’s celestial mysticism...and a similar phenomenon had apparently happened during the face-off with Orias.

If I can’t use celestial mysticism...then what can I do?

What could she do for Nephteros’s sake? With that thought in mind, Nephy came to a sudden stop.

“Hey! What’re you doin’?!” Asura yelled.

Nephy stood completely still out in the open. She then held out her hands toward “Nephteros.”

“Please come back to us, Nephteros.”

Both Asura and Orias looked on in shock at her pointless appeal.

This is the reason I came here!

Nephy didn’t truly believe her voice would reach, but “Nephteros” came to a sudden stop as she heard her continued pleading.

“I’ve learned when Master Zagan’s birthday is. Shall we go look for presents together and celebrate for him? I haven’t told Chastille about this yet, but Foll, Lilith, and even Lady Alshiera have all helped think up a plan to surprise him.”

Her words were completely out of place when directed at this divine monster. Nevertheless, Nephy kept talking.

“You have to be there with us, Nephteros. I don’t want to do this without you, so—”

“Tee hee hee... What a foolish child. What a pitiful child. Could you be quiet?” “Nephteros” said, tossing her spear of light.

“Nephy!”

Nephy saw the spear. She also heard Orias’s voice. But even so, she maintained her steadfast gaze on “Nephteros.” The spear pierced the ground, boiling the earth in a deep shade of red...far, far behind Nephy.

“I...missed?” “Nephteros” muttered, confused.

The spear had passed by Nephy by the tiniest margin. Seeing this, “Nephteros’s” insane smile had vanished and her face now displayed clear bewilderment.

“Gotcha!”

The crimson-haired boy charged in with another swing of his gauntlet, but “Nephteros” dodged into the air.

“Almost had you! Really thought I’d get one there.”

“What an irritating little fly.”

“Nephteros” swung her arm. That was all it took to create a shock wave capable of destroying the entire deserted village. In response, Asura’s gauntlet spread out like feathers, letting him float away from the blow and land right next to Nephy.

“Heh heh heh... That’s quite the fun way you’ve got of fightin’! Lemme give ya a hand!”

Nephy had no idea what Alshiera had in mind when she sent the boy over, but despite showing disgust at first, Asura stood to the fore to protect her.

“Did Camael not come this way...?” Asura muttered.

Nephy figured that was the name of a Sacred Sword, but due to the next spear of light being let loose, she didn’t have time to pay his words any mind.

◇

“Is he still not awake?”

Back in one of Archdemon Palace’s rooms, Lisette sat by a certain Angelic Knight’s prone body. His name was Richard. After having his heart gouged out, he’d been saved from the brink of death by Archdemon Zagan. However, even though his treatment was done, he showed no signs of waking up.

As a noncombatant, Lisette was also helping out in the kitchen, but it wasn’t like they were all working around the clock. They took shifts, so Lisette used her break to check on Richard’s condition.

The one who called out to her was the girl who shared her face. She had the same blonde hair, the same blue eyes. Even her small nose, her thin lips, her angled brows, her somewhat tanned skin, all of it was the same. She was apparently a sorcerer, but she wore a simple breastplate along with a longsword at her waist, making her appear more like a bandit.

“Miss Dexia.”

“Just Dexia is fine. It seems we’re not strangers and all.”

“Mmm... Dexia.”

According to Dexia, there was another girl out there with the same face as them, one that Dexia had to save.

“Are you heading out already?” Lisette asked.

“Yes. I just wanted to get another look at you before I left.”

Archdemon Zagan was mighty and dutiful. Now that he’d declared that he would protect Dexia, he was sure to do so. But even so, the enemy they were going to face was far too powerful. There was no guarantee that she would return safely. There was also no guarantee that they could save her sister. Lisette returned Dexia’s gaze, unable to find the right words to say to her.

“You can’t become like us,” Dexia said curtly, joining her hands behind her back.

“Huh?”

Lisette was left wide-eyed at the sudden change of topic.

“We were something like assassins,” Dexia muttered as if talking to herself. “Back then, we didn’t think anything of it. And after all the foul things we’ve done, there was no complaining if someone killed us at any moment. Even if this thing with Aristella didn’t happen, it would’ve ended up bad one day.”

Dexia paused there, then continued with a gloomy expression.

“I’m going to kill my master.”

Lisette gulped at the powerful declaration.

“I really only have the power to help out a little, of course...” Dexia added. “But that’s what I have to do if I wish to save Aristella...go to another Archdemon for help. I’m enacting revenge on my master by my own will.”

Dexia claimed to be artificially created, but what of it? As she was now, she possessed a far stronger will than Lisette ever had, and Lisette was wholly human.

“Our hands are already dirty,” Dexia said, finally looking straight at Lisette. “But you’re different. Yours are still clean, so I want them to stay that way. You can’t become like us.”

Her words were far too pure for someone with sullied hands, causing Lisette to clasp her hand tight against her chest.

“I-I’ve been living in the streets, you know?” she said. “I’m not as clean as you think I am.”

“No, you’re still clean. We were wrong, but if you can stay pure, I feel like we’ll be saved. It’s like a sign that we could’ve had such a future, so...” Dexia, a girl who’d once gone around killing people at her master’s command, spoke as if in prayer.

Before answering, Lisette embraced her, then said, “The Archdemon told me something once. No matter who you are, you deserve at least one chance to walk another path. You believe you were wrong, don’t you? You truly want to change, don’t you? Isn’t that why you chose this path?”

“Yeah...”

“So you can’t call yourself dirty. In my eyes, you look noble and pure.”

Dexia wrapped her arms around Lisette and began sobbing quietly. Lisette said nothing and gently stroked Dexia’s head in response. After a while, Dexia pushed herself back.

“I need to get going...” she said.

“Mmm...”

Dexia turned around to leave, but suddenly turned back as if remembering something. She then unwound the blue ribbon that was around her wrist and asked, “Hey, could you hold on to this?”

“Isn’t that important to you?” Lisette questioned, somewhat bewildered by the act.

“It is... This is Aristella’s ribbon. I’m the older sister, but I couldn’t protect her. She’s the one who helped me get away...” Dexia mumbled as she held the ribbon tightly to her chest, then smiled with tearful eyes. “When I returned to where she should’ve been, all that was left was this ribbon. And when I found her later, she wasn’t Aristella anymore...”

“Dexia...”

Despite the subject, Dexia’s expression wasn’t as gloomy as Lisette had expected.

“I will definitely save Aristella,” Dexia said. “And then, I’ll come back here with her. That’s why I’d like you to hold on to this.”

“Okay.”

Lisette couldn’t possibly refuse after hearing all that, so she carefully accepted the precious ribbon like the most fragile of treasures.

“Hey, Dexia?”

“Yes?”

“What kind of person was the master who made you two go through all this?” Lisette asked hesitantly.

“What kind of person was he...?” Dexia repeated with a lonely smile and a distant gaze. “I don’t even know anymore. He was kind, he praised us when we fulfilled our missions, he treated us when we got hurt...but he never taught us what exactly it was that we were doing. Even after that happened to Aristella, he looked far happier than sad.”

Dexia paused and shrugged to hide her unease.

“It might be unreasonable to begrudge him for that. We’re Shere Khan’s familiars, after all. But he’s a curse to me. I feel like me and Aristella will only truly start living once we’re free of him.” Dexia smiled as she said that, putting on a show of bravado. “When I set out into my new life, cheer me on, okay?”

“Mmm... I will. So don’t push yourself, got it?”

“Sure thing. I’m off, then.”

With that, Dexia left. After seeing her off, Lisette held her hand to her chest in grief.

What should I do...?

Her oldest memory was one of a large hand gently petting her head. She couldn’t remember the person’s name or face, let alone what kind of person they were, but she knew it was most likely an adult. She also remembered a few words. The person had taught her that people who were kind for no reason shouldn’t be trusted. Those words had saved Lisette during her five years in the alleys...and the person who’d said them to her may very well have been at Dexia’s destination.

Perhaps it was Shere Khan...?

If so, what was Lisette to do? Was he a good person? Was he a bad person? Well, he definitely wasn’t a good person. After all, Lisette had heard of the atrocities Shere Khan had committed, even if only in fragments.

But he knows who I am.

Zagan and Dexia had told her not to pry into her past. They’d told her to stay in the present. But if she let this chance go, she’d never get to meet him again.

Lisette turned around to look at the injured Angelic Knight, who showed no sign of waking up. Staying by his side was her role right now.

“But even so...”

Lisette stood up and walked out the door.

◇

“Archangel Arvo Juutilainen and Archangel Julius Juutilainen, hereby reporting for duty.”

Come morning, all the Angelic Knights in Kianoides deployed in the western region of the city. By going as far as including those who’d been off duty and those who had already retired, they’d gathered a hundred and fifty men. Two Archangels from outside Kianoides stood before Chastille and the gathered men now—Arvo Juutilainen and his younger brother Julius.

“We’ve brought those who can take up arms immediately. They may be inadequate when faced with such numbers, but use them as you see fit.”

Around a hundred Angelic Knights accompanied them. It wasn’t much compared to an army of ten thousand, but they were still reassuring reinforcements.

“Thank you for your assistance,” Chastille muttered in disbelief. “But why are you two here? And so quickly at that?”

“We have no choice but to respond when commanded by the Head Archangel.”

“The Head Archangel...? You mean Lord Galahad?”

As if in response to that question, Ginias walked out of the cathedral.

“We’re faced with ten thousand foes,” he said. “We have to treat this as an all-out war.”

He was still wrapped in bandages, but exuded a resolute air that one wouldn’t expect from a thirteen-year-old boy.

“How are your wounds?” Chastille asked.

“They’re fine. It seems you have a skilled sorcerer among your helpers. I’m sure that I can hold my own in battle now.”

“W-Wait a—!”

Chastille was already in a precarious position within the church. Even though she’d regained some trust after the incident with Raphael, mentioning that she had sorcerers in her employ before other Archangels could court suspicion. And yet, another voice, which was accompanied by hoofbeats, cut her off.

“We face this battle on a united front with sorcerers, so we should demonstrate that fact beforehand.”

“Lord Raphael?”

Raphael was wearing Valefor’s armor. His horse was also armored, making him stand out among all the Angelic Knights.

“Lord Hyurandell is the one who said to use my name when requesting reinforcements,” Ginias stated with a strained smile. “Though honestly, I didn’t expect you to respond so quickly.”

“Protecting this town means putting Archdemon Zagan in our debt,” Arvo replied, averting his gaze awkwardly. “Considering the blow to our honor the other day, we had no choice but to respond.”

“Uhhh, this Unification Faction of yours, was it? We’ve decided to join it,” Arvo’s brother added.

“Julius...”

“There’s no point in simply worrying about keeping up appearances, is there?”

Arvo sighed, then looked around the area and asked, “Is Lady Diekmeyer not here?”

Ginias shook his head and replied, “She suffered worse wounds than I did. She hasn’t regained consciousness yet.”

“I see...”

“But she should recover quickly. She’ll definitely come.”

Arvo went from finding this unbelievable to smiling pleasantly for some reason.

“Is that so?” he said. “She’s your precious partner and all, so that’s good to hear.”

“Wh-Why do you think that?!”

Chastille didn’t quite understand what he meant, but after thinking it over for a bit, she turned to Ginias and said, “Lord Galahad, I believe you should take command of this battle. I’m the one in charge of this town, but you’re the Head Archangel.”

Now that several units had rendezvoused, they needed to make the chain of command clear.

“Morale among the Angelic Knights won’t improve with a figurehead in charge,” Ginias said with a shake of the head. “There’s someone more suitable than me right here.”

With that, he pointed at Raphael.

Chastille nodded and responded, “I see. He possesses the most experience among us...and is also well-known among the sorcerers. Are there any objections?”

“None here,” Arvo answered. “We understand that Lord Hyurandell is being pursued by the church over false allegations, but even if it is just this once, I would like to fight by his side as an ally.”

His response almost made it sound like this had all been prearranged.

If Lord Raphael is to take command, then I’ll need to explain things to my subordinates.

Normally, as the one in charge of Kianoides, Chastille should’ve been the one to take charge of the troops, but there were far more suitable people present. What’s more, Chastille had experience leading small units, but she’d never taken command of over a hundred knights in battle. As such, nobody was more suited for this role than Raphael.

That was exactly why they’d gone out of their way to talk about this right before the battle. The Juutilainen brothers’ arrival was unexpected, but as members of the Unification Faction, they would’ve gotten notice of this already, so they’d gone along without needing any explanation.

Chastille turned back to all the Angelic Knights and yelled, “It’s just as you’ve all heard! I’m sure there are those among you who disagree, but I’d like your cooperation on behalf of this town!”

“Yes, ma’am!” they all replied reassuringly, saluting in perfect unison even though this force had been hastily assembled.

With that, our preparations are complete.

All that was left was to take on an army of ten thousand—well, eight thousand after what Zagan and Barbatos had done. Before long, a tremendous cloud of smoke rose from the enemy formation along with an explosive boom. That was the signal for the start of the battle.

“They’re coming!”

It was as if a mountain had begun moving. Their numbers were vast, but still far too little to be ten thousand.

“So few? It looks like there are only around a thousand of them or so,” Chastille said.

“There’s no need to attack fewer than three hundred enemies with their entire force,” Arvo observed. “It seems they plan to hit us in waves.”

“There’s that, but I believe the main reason is because my liege has removed all of their officers,” Raphael suggested. “What’s more, he should have destroyed some twenty percent of their forces. That’s more than enough to paralyze an army. As such, there’s only so many of them that can rise to the occasion.”

Even though they’d lost twenty percent of their forces, only two hundred or so of them were actually dead. The vast majority were only wounded. It took even more than those two thousand wounded to handle treating and moving around the injured, so compounded with the loss of every officer, it wouldn’t have been strange for the entire army to rout. In other words, this was all the enemy army could muster.

Still, they nearly outnumber us four to one.

The one advantage on Chastille’s side was that the enemy didn’t field much cavalry. There were fewer than a hundred horsemen. Archdemon Shere Khan could easily acquire weapons and armor, but preparing warhorses was another matter entirely.

“I see. So a battle really is determined by prior preparations,” Raphael said with a wry smile.

“What do you mean?” Chastille asked.

“Everything is playing out according to my liege’s tune,” Raphael said, then held up his Sacred Sword and raised his voice. “Juutilainen brothers, take your company and form a solid pack on the left wing before charging in. Galahad, your company will meet the enemy from the front. Lillqvist, your forces are to spread out thinly over the right wing. We’ll take on an echelon formation. Medical sorcerers join each group and support them.”

The echelon formation focused forces on the left wing. The idea was to break through the enemy’s flank. The dispersal of units was heavily weighted to the left, though, so this rendered the center and right wings somewhat weak. Plus, even without any officers, their enemies were heroes, veterans of many battles. It would be difficult to break through their lines just by concentrating their forces to one side. Also, if Galahad’s company taking on the enemy from the center were to fall back, Chastille’s company would be split apart and left with no choice but to scatter. It was a dangerous plan.

Well, here’s hoping it goes well... Chastille thought. She believed in Raphael, but most Angelic Knights hadn’t even considered a battle on this scale, let alone trained for one. Angelic Knights most often faced sorcerers, who weren’t the type to form large groups. No matter how perfect a plan was, executing it successfully was a different matter altogether.

“Very well,” Chastille said, swallowing her unease.

The Juutilainen brothers rushed off to the left wing. They were the cavalry, while Ginias and Chastille’s forces were the infantry. As everyone got into position, Kuroka stood next to Chastille.

“Kuroka, are you sure you don’t need Anointed Armor?” Chastille asked.

“I don’t. Zagan cast his sorcery on these clothes, so while they may look flimsy, they can at least repel any regular blade.”

“Ha ha... If Zagan has blessed them, then I trust that you’ll be safe.”

Zagan was mercilessly brutal toward his enemies but soft to the point of being overprotective of his family. He considered Kuroka family, so there was no need to doubt his blessings. Despite all that, there was no strength behind Chastille’s smile.

I wonder if Nephteros is okay... she thought as she recalled the face of her best friend. It was clear that something had happened to her. And yet, Kuroka and Barbatos wouldn’t tell Chastille what. When she realized they were hiding something, she’d nearly pressured them to spill the beans. However, she understood why they were hiding it.

This was Chastille’s battlefield. There were Kianoides’s hundred and fifty Angelic Knights, the reinforcements the Juutilainen brothers had brought, as well as Ginias’s company. If her mind was preoccupied with unnecessary thoughts, it would expose all their lives to danger. Even if she cast away her responsibilities and ran off to save her, Nephteros wouldn’t be pleased.

Right now, I have to focus on bringing this battle to a swift end.

Maybe she wouldn’t be able to accomplish anything by running to Nephteros’s side. Nevertheless, winning here was Chastille’s fastest path to her. Despite that, even if it had only been for a few moments, she’d gotten angry at Kuroka when the girl had taken all that into consideration and spoke to her.

“Um, Kuroka?”

“Yes? What is it?”

“Sorry about last night... I understand you were being considerate at the time.”

Kuroka stared back in wonder, then giggled.

“I didn’t take any offense,” she said with a smile. “I didn’t mention it last night, but I have many interesting stories of my travels. Some of them should please Lady Nephteros too. Once everything is over, let’s all celebrate together, okay?”

“L-Let’s! To that end, we’ll need to win this fight first.”

Kuroka really was a reliable girl. Having pulled herself together, Chastille addressed her forces.

“I’ll take the center. Kuroka will be on the right. Alfred, you three will take the left and support the other group.”

The right wing was thinly dispersed, so those in command had to be spread out as well. What’s more, Ginias was putting on a strong front despite not being in peak condition. Even disregarding his injuries, he must’ve felt something from Stella’s absence. After all, it was clear that he admired and was in love with her. Thus, she determined that the Three Knights of the Azure Sky were capable enough to keep up the fight while supporting him.

“Yes ma’am!” the Angelic Knights responded reliably and each dispersed to their own posts.

“Archers!”

The call came from Ginias’s company. The enemy formation was loosing arrows before the armies collided. There were a few hundred projectiles in the sky. Keeping forces in check with arrows was apparently a standard tactic in large battles in the days of antiquity. That was before the development of sorcery, however. The hundreds of arrows suddenly lost their momentum while still in the sky and tumbled to the ground pitifully without reaching their targets.

How reassuring it is to have sorcerers as allies.

Angelic Knights didn’t use bows because they were useless against sorcerers. The enemy probably possessed that level of knowledge already, as they showed no signs of wavering and continued their march.

“Charge!” Ginias’s voice rang through the air. A moment later, his company boldly collided with the enemy army. As the center of the formation, Raphael was there too, but the enemy still surpassed them in quantity and quality. Morale was high, but they were clearly being pushed back. And there were, of course, enemies rushing in on Chastille’s side too.

“Outta the way!”

A huge armored man led the enemy vanguard. He looked even larger than Raphael. Chastille was like a child before him, but he was the one left screaming in the aftermath of their collision.

“Wh-What?!”

The huge man had charged in with a shoulder tackle. Chastille’s slender arms should’ve never been able to stop such an attack, but the man had lost completely and had been blown back. Thanks to the blessings of Anointed Armor and her Sacred Sword, Chastille possessed physical strength capable of rivaling Zagan’s. With the enemy soldier now lying belly up like a frog before her, Chastille struck him across the face with the flat of her blade. His helmet shattered to pieces and he stopped moving completely.

“Don’t push in too far! Stop the enemy advance first!” she yelled as she swung her sword.

Enemy morale was low. It was enough for Chastille to be able to fight in her Anointed Armor. So long as they didn’t push too far, she could keep things on even ground while protecting her subordinates.

Unfortunately, the dent in the center affected the entire formation. The left wing of Chastille’s company being managed by the Three Knights of the Azure Sky was being pushed back. Due to that, Chastille’s forces in the center of her formation were also forced to slowly retreat.

Only the right wing being led by Kuroka didn’t yield a single step and somehow held its ground. If Chastille unleashed the full power of her Sacred Sword, it would be possible to cut her way through, but Angelic Knights weren’t as almighty as sorcerers. Doing so would exhaust her considerably, making it hard to keep up the fight. Ginias refrained from using his Confession as well and fell back precisely because he knew that.

We can’t hold out much longer!

Chastille’s subordinates were putting up a good fight for now, but they had far less experience than their enemies. Anointed Armor and medical sorcerers helped keep casualties under control, but they could no longer ignore the injured completely. Just as they started to lose their composure, the sound of stampeding horses thrummed over the battlefield.

“You made it!” Chastille cried.

It wasn’t the enemy cavalry.

“You’ve held out well! Juutilainen Company, here to assist!”

It was Arvo’s company, the ones who were supposed to be on the opposite side of the battlefield on the left wing. The left and right wings had met in a deployed echelon formation, which could only mean one thing.

“Hey, isn’t this really bad?”

“Tch! When the hell?!”

“What’s going on...?”

The enemy army stopped upon realizing the situation. Before they knew it, the force of less than three hundred Angelic Knights had completely encircled Shere Khan’s force of one thousand.

“As I’d expect of Lord Raphael, he commands splendidly,” Chastille said in admiration.

Cavalry didn’t really stand out much in battles against sorcerers, but they possessed unrivaled mobility in open field battles. Having come from afar, Juutilainen’s entire company was inevitably composed of cavalry, so they’d used the mobility to quickly encircle the enemy formation.

No matter how many enemies there were, only the front line could fight when encircled. The ones in the center wouldn’t be able to help with those in front of them blocking the way. They’d already proven that projectile weapons like bows were completely useless in this battle, after all.

Each hero might’ve been stronger than an Angelic Knight, but armed in Anointed Armor, the knights weren’t too far behind. Their equipment put them on equal ground.

If they had proper officers among them, they might’ve foreseen the movement of the cavalry, but...

Barbatos had assassinated every last one of them. An army without any command structure was pretty much only capable of endlessly charging forward. That was why they’d gotten encircled so easily.

“To all enemy forces,” Raphael shouted. “I understand that this is a battle you do not wish to participate in. Surrender. I guarantee all of you fair treatment as prisoners of war.”

His voice was probably being amplified by sorcery. It reached every corner of the battlefield with ease.

Now then, what will they do?

Even if they were exhausted, a force of ten thousand was being told to surrender by no more than three hundred knights. Normally, this would’ve been laughable, but it was possible now that they knew they were in a completely inferior position.

Zagan was a heartless king to his enemies, but he wasn’t a cruel man. Raphael had chosen this method to bring about the least number of casualties, having read his king’s intent.

Silence fell over the battlefield. Even the sound of the wind could be heard clearly for a while before it was broken by screams.

“Don’t fuck with us! Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you say that after carrying out that night attack?!”

It was rage born of struggling against the unreasonable. These heroes, who’d used their anger as a driving force to fight, had already crossed the point of no return. The encircled army took heart and gathered its strength.

“Hmph. Very well. You leave me no choice.”

Raphael had only offered to negotiate. Doing so didn’t really trouble anyone. He likely knew it would turn out like this. Nevertheless, he’d at least tried to respect his king’s desire.

Sorry, Nephteros. It looks like this is going to take some time.

The fight was only just beginning, and it was sure to be fierce. Even as her friend’s safety pained her heart, Chastille tightened her grip on her sword again...when suddenly, something fell from the sky. It landed between the encircled army and the seven thousand remaining soldiers in their camp. It had black scales darker than the dead of the night, giant wings that looked like they could cover the sky, and a tremendous tail that sprawled across the ground with the solemnity of a thousand-year-old tree.

“Back Dragon Marbas...!”

It was smaller than what Chastille had once witnessed, but Black Dragon was definitely here, its enormous body and majesty more than enough to shake the entire battlefield.

“Graaargh—!”

Its voice was far too frail to call a roar. It was more like a cry of grief, shaking the very sky. While holding her Sacred Sword tight, Chastille could tell that this was the concurrent chanting of several complicated spells at once.

“Defensive formation!” Chastille screamed.

Immediately following that, lights rained down from the heavens. The lights were as thin as threads. However, everything they touched burned and evaporated in an instant. Looking up, she spotted countless gigantic magic circles deployed over the entire open field. They didn’t only cover the battle either, but spread over the enemy camp to the rear where the remaining seven thousand soldiers remained.

Chastille knew the name of this destructive power. It was the wide-area annihilation sorcery, Nimbus—the lights of destruction that wiped out entire towns, which had courted Archdemon Marchosias’s wrath.

The truly terrifying part was that, despite the rain of light, not a single person was getting hit. Finger-sized holes drilled into the ground just ten centimeters to the right of everyone’s foot with deadly accuracy. She possessed destructive potential rivaling divine punishment, unimaginable precision, and the mana to aim at over eight thousand targets. Was there a single soul here who wasn’t awed by such power?

After mulling over it for a second, Chastille finally understood the situation.

Oh, she’s finally reached the realm of Archdemons.

The small girl riding atop the black dragon’s head spoke in a cold voice reminiscent of her father, directing her words toward everyone on the battlefield.

“Nobody move. Next time...I’ll strike you directly.”

A brief demand, but everyone present understood what she meant. Every single life on the battlefield was in the grip of her tiny hands. The heroes couldn’t so much as budge. Even the Angelic Knights, who were supposed to be her allies, remained rooted in place.

With the entire battlefield frozen due to tension and fear, the little dragon let out a yawn, then curled up on top of the black dragon’s head.

“Hang on! Don’t you have any demands?!” Chastille screamed inadvertently.

“Oh. You’re here...Horse Head,” Foll replied with a sleep look. She was supposed to be kilometers away, but it sounded like she was right next to Chastille. It was sorcery a little different from telepathy.

“And who do you think will protect this town if I don’t?!”

What did this girl think she was? Despite the current situation, it took everything Chastille had to desperately hold back her tears. However, Foll merely shot her a cold gaze before speaking.

“That’s not what I mean. Is this where you should be fighting?” she asked reproachfully.

“Wh-What are you...trying to...?”

“Nephteros is in the deserted town south of here.”

Chastille’s eyes shot open as soon as she heard those words.

“Foll, is that—?”

“Goddammit! You stupid little brat!”

Barbatos suddenly appeared above the black dragon’s head and grabbed Foll by the collar. Since she was much smaller than him, he held her up completely in the air, but she showed no signs of discomposure and grabbed his arm.

“Shut up, Barbatos. Chastille is the one who gets to decide.”

“Gaaah!” Barbatos howled in pain and fell to his knees due to her mana-charged words. With her feet back on the black dragon’s head, Foll shook off Barbatos’s hand and turned her eyes toward Chastille.

“There’s nothing you can do here. If you still want to protect the town, then stay for all I care. Decide on your own.”

“Foll...” Chastille mumbled with a troubled smile.

She really is becoming more and more like Zagan...

She’d come all the way here just to let Chastille leave.

“Please go ahead, Lady Chastille,” Kuroka said, running over to Chastille’s side. “I shall handle things here.”

Seeing that she rushed over to say that, Chastille knew that Kuroka had been fretting over having to keep quiet.

“Sorry, I’ll have to leave this to you,” Chastille told her.

“Of course.”

She then turned to the black dragon and said, “Foll...and Barbatos, thank you.”

“Tch...” Barbatos muttered in resignation. “You’re definitely not gonna live a long life.”

“I think you’re right,” Chastille agreed casually.

“Why do you gotta be so—?!”

“But!” Chastille yelled, cutting him off earnestly. “But...it’s not like I want to die. There’s a mountain of things I have to do. So...it’ll be okay. I’ll come back to you.”

Silence. Barbatos didn’t reply. Instead, the shadows at her feet wriggled.

“Come on... You’re going, yeah?”

“Yes!”

Chastille jumped into the shadow and hurried to Nephteros’s side.

“We should pretend we didn’t hear any of that...right?”

A strange awkwardness hovered over the Angelic Knights and enemy soldiers, but that story is better reserved for another time.

◇

“I see... That is...Orobas’s daughter... How terrifying.”

Shere Khan genuinely admired how the little dragon had suppressed an army of ten thousand soldiers with ease. Her tremendous mana, talent, and endless ambition had driven her to evolve remarkably. Her power was already in the realm of Archdemons, even. If she were to inherit a Sigil, it was entirely feasible for her to become an Archdemon who surpassed Zagan. One year ago, none of the Archdemons foresaw such a possibility for growth within her...except for Naberius, of course.

No...I suppose her meeting with Zagan was what drove her to such heights.

Perhaps that was the true power of the one who inherited the title of Silver-Eyed King.

Four crystal balls sat before Shere Khan. One displayed the Nephilims’ battle, while the one next to that showed Kimaris. Even after being broken by Zagan, the leonin had continued fighting and had crushed a thousand Nephilims. Now, it looked like he was exhausted and waiting to recover.

Kimaris has also shown strength far beyond what I imagined possible.

Contrary to expectations, Kimaris had managed to corner Zagan and had even stabbed him with a Hex Nail. Even though this hadn’t been enough to stop the Archdemon, this too was power gained through contact with Zagan.

The bestower. That is what Alshiera called the Archdemon’s heart. The one Zagan possesses.

This was likely a result of that power. Though, that clearly wasn’t all, as they also displayed the talent to form connections with others and manifest strength that surpassed what they were originally capable of. It was different from religious fanaticism. Perhaps it was a power that came to him precisely because he continued to identify himself as a king.

“The bestower... The quality...of a hero.”

The Nephilims Shere Khan had created were all heroes who represented the past. They were those who’d shown no fear in the face of death and had subsequently faded away into obscurity. However, martial strength wasn’t enough to change the world on its own. Simply being brave wasn’t enough either.

During each of their generations, there’d always been one true hero who’d guided them in the battle to change the world. There’d always been one who had changed all those who walked with them into heroes. Such a hero had been required one thousand years ago in the battle against the third Azazel, but had never appeared. That was why the world had devolved to its current state. That was why Dantalian had been erased from existence. If a true hero had shown up in that era, it wouldn’t have ended like that. Shere Khan let out a sigh of envy and grief at the thought.

There’s no changing what’s already happened. Instead, I shall save those who couldn’t be saved using my own methods.

To that end, Zagan was a hindrance.

“Now then...let us...rebalance...the scales.”

The battle currently favored Zagan. The Nephilim army had been completely suppressed. Even Asura and Bato, who’d been released to keep Bifrons in check, had become Alshiera’s pawns. Thanks to Dexia’s betrayal, Zagan was already right on top of his hiding spot. Shere Khan’s predicament could be called absolutely hopeless—exactly as he’d predicted.

First, I must rally the Nephilims.

He hadn’t created them as sacrificial pawns. He’d created them to become the first inhabitants of his new world. It would be troublesome if they didn’t survive. And as he was about to relay instructions, another crystal ball suddenly caught his attention.

“Oh. Looks like...the scales have...already balanced out here.”

Reflected in this ball was the scene of Azazel’s battle with Orias.

◇

“[The lights in the heavens are all stars. All that shines far and wide plummets into a conflagration. With no compassion, no grief, it simply judges and brings forth destruction. This is the prayer of retribution]—Asteri Exkrixis!”

“[The lights in the heavens are all stars. All that shines far and wide plummets into a conflagration. With no compassion, no grief, no fear, and no suffering. This is the prayer of forgiveness]—Astraea Exkrixis!”

Celestial chants overlapped. One brought forth a light of destruction that mowed down all in its path, while the other brought a quiet light that erased everything. The two opposing lights enveloped “Nephteros” at once. She flew away to escape them, but one of her left Hex Wings was destroyed in the process.

We finally got one!

A single song could be plundered from them, but singing in unison staved off that possibility. Nephy and Orias were of one mind in wanting to save Nephteros, after all. Despite having fewer Hex Wings, Orias had managed to drag the fight down to even ground. She really was an Archdemon. If she weren’t here, Nephy would already have been defeated. What’s more, the quick wits of Asura, who was intimately familiar with seraphs, were a major help in this battle.

“Hee hee hee... Hah hah hah!” “Nephteros” cackled despite losing a Hex Wing. “How scary. How frightening. You’ve really done it now.”

“This time I’ve got you!”

Using the light of celestial mysticism as cover, Asura leaped into the sky directly above “Nephteros” and brought down his gauntlet on a second Hex Wing.

Now they’re equal!

No, Orias had the Sigil of the Archdemon. With its assistance, she easily possessed more power than “Nephteros” in her current state. All that was left was to take out the remaining Hex Wings and render her powerless. However, “Nephteros” showed no signs of faltering and created a spear of light in her hand once more.

“Tch... Her power’s the same even though we’ve taken two Hex Wings. The hell’s goin’ on?” Asura asked, sounding baffled by the unknown phenomenon. Unfortunately, the answer to his confusion came shortly after.

“Huh...?”

Whose voice was that? Nephy? Or perhaps Orias? The right hand holding up the spear of light quietly crumbled away. It was like the hand of a broken clay doll, and it vanished into ashes before reaching the ground.

That power is born by sapping what remains of Nephteros’s life!

It seemed that life-draining power had finally reached the stage of physically destroying her body.

“Nephteros!” Orias screamed.

“Dodge it, woman!”

Was any parent in the world capable of remaining calm when faced with their beloved daughter’s body crumbling away irrecoverably before them? At the very least, Nephy would’ve been unable to bear it if the same thing happened to Foll. As such, that surely applied to Orias as well.

Orias had stretched out her hand to “Nephteros.” This had surely been but a momentary lapse in judgment. However, even though “Nephteros’s” hand was gone, the spear remained and had promptly been unleashed, aimed directly at the mother reaching out to her daughter.

Orias was unable to dodge or block the attack in her current state. Asura had noticed right away, but was too far away to do anything. The light capable of evaporating an entire town pierced right through Orias’s body.

“Mother!”

When the smoke from the explosion cleared, Orias was down on the ground without any of her Hex Wings.

“Ugh... Agh...”

She was somehow still breathing, but a red puddle quickly spread beneath her and her limbs were bent the wrong way. It was clear as day that she needed treatment immediately, so Nephy started running to her side without a moment’s hesitation.

She’s so far away!

Orias had been blown back by the explosion. No matter how fast Nephy ran, it would take more than ten seconds to get there.

“Tee hee hee! That was quite the pesky fly. But its life ends here,” “Nephteros” proclaimed as she held up her handless arm to finish Orias, forming another spear of light.

“Stop! Nephteros!” Nephy screamed in vain as “Nephteros” unleashed the spear.

“Tch!” Asura clicked his tongue and leaped in, but the spear was aimed downward. Even if they could evade a direct hit, it would be impossible to escape the explosion. Plus, Orias was already in a dangerous state where simply moving her would be a bad idea.

Asura faced the spear and intercepted it with an uppercut. His gauntlet wasn’t enough to defend against such an attack, which he understood quite well. His crimson fist didn’t meet the spear head-on, but instead struck the tip of the projectile from beneath. The airborne light, fully capable of melting the earth, bent at an acute angle, shooting off into the sky.

“Heh... Heh heh... I failed a thousand years ago, but this time I really pulled it off.”

However, Asura hadn’t gotten through unscathed. The gauntlet made of mana was now in tatters and the arm beneath it was a crumpled mess. That was when Nephy finally reached the two of them.

There was no way she could heal them in this situation. She knew that, but she was the only one who could save them. So Nephy held up Orias in her arms and prayed with all her might. Healing through mysticism was extremely effective, but it couldn’t possibly heal such a grave wound in so short a time.

“Sir Asura, your hand...!”

She attempted to heal Asura’s arm at the same time, but “Nephteros” was already preparing a third spear in the sky. She knew she wouldn’t make it in time...and the tragedy didn’t stop there.

“What’s going on here...?”

Chastille, who should’ve been on a faraway battlefield, froze in place as “Nephteros” adjusted her aim toward the new interloper.

◇

“RAAAAAAH!”

In the large open field outside Kianoides, the soldiers who’d been completely suppressed by Foll suddenly let out a loud war cry.

“What’s up with them?!” Kuroka yelled.

Their eyes... They’ve gone insane.

Kuroka couldn’t sense any reason in the enemy soldiers’ vacant eyes. It was a state commonly seen among those being manipulated by sorcery.

“They’re being controlled? This many at once?”

The war cry could be heard from both the thousand soldiers encircled by the Angelic Knights and the enemy headquarters far to the rear. In all likelihood, those who’d been rendered incapable of fighting by Zagan were also in a similar state. The Archdemon responsible for this was beyond the point of recovery, even for a sorcerer, making this feat all the more terrifying.

“How pitiful...” Foll muttered. She then deployed Nimbus once more, threatening to rain light from the skies. Nothing happened, however.

“GraAaAaaaAAAaaaaAAAAH!” an ominous and jarring roar boomed in the air. Due to the fact that she possessed far sharper hearing than most people, Kuroka immediately covered her ears and squatted to the ground. That was when it came into sight.

A hideously decayed dragon had its jaws clamped around Black Dragon Marbas’s windpipe. It possessed an enormous body that made even the black dragon look small in comparison. Judging by its size, it had to be centuries old. It probably had vibrant scales in life, but now those scales had rotted off, exposing its bones. It was a zombie dragon.

Was the reason it couldn’t be resurrected in as complete a state as the Nephilims because its power far surpassed the sorcerer’s capabilities? Or was it because the dragon’s tremendous resistance against sorcery hindered the process? In either case, the zombie dragon was stronger than the black dragon.

“Foll!” Kuroka screamed.

The little girl was shaken off the black dragon’s head and fell without even unfurling her wings.

She fainted?

Perhaps the zombie dragon’s attack had been more than meets the eye. Foll wasn’t even using sorcery to float. Not only that, but the black dragon’s massive body began crumbling away.

Kuroka had no way of knowing that the appearance of this zombie dragon was enough to shake Foll to the core so badly that she couldn’t maintain Marbas. She only understood why this was when she heard Raphael mutter something in a trembling voice next to her.

“It can’t be. Is that...Orobas?”

Kuroka felt the blood drain from her face. That was the name of the great Wise Dragon extolled in tales from a thousand years ago. It was also the name of Foll’s father.

“Ginias! Take care of things here!”

“Lord Hyurandell?!”

Raphael ran straight toward Foll without sparing anyone a backward glance, but unfortunately, an enemy soldier came down at him from the side.

“Out of the way you mindless slave!”

In contrast to his usual gentility—on the inside, at least—Raphael roared with unimaginable rage. He mercilessly swung his sword, but the soldier easily blocked the blow.

“Impossible... He blocked father’s sword?” Kuroka muttered.

Nevertheless, the power of a Sacred Sword backed by rage was dreadful. The enemy soldier’s helmet split in two. And with the helmet gone, a familiar scent suddenly assaulted Kuroka’s nose.

What...? What is this...?

Identifying the owner of the scent, Kuroka felt a sudden bout of fear overtake her. Locked in combat with the man, Raphael definitely realized who it was too. His eyes shot open in shock once he figured out what was happening.

“Y-You’re— Gh!”

“Lord Hyurandell! Leave him to—”

“Stay back, Ginias!” Raphael shouted. However, he was blown back in the same instant.

With that, everyone could see whom he’d been fighting. The man wore battered Anointed Armor with a gaping hole in the middle. He wielded a ceremonial sword blessed by elves, one that had been granted to him by the church. His hair and beard had grown long and unkempt, but none could mistake his face for anyone else.

“Archangel Michael Diekmeyer...?” Ginias muttered in a daze.

But this man had another name too—Head Archdemon Andrealphus. He was considered the strongest both as an Angelic Knight and an Archdemon. There was presently no vitality to his features, however. His eyes were vacant like all the other soldiers, showing no hint of reason behind them. The strongest had fallen into the hands of the enemy. None could keep their composure when faced with such a brutal reality. Not the Angelic Knights, and certainly not the sorcerers.

“Burn to ash—Orobas!”

Raphael was the only one to stand and fight as everyone cowered in fear. Despite being blown back, he held out his prosthetic arm and unleashed a violent blaze. This was the breath of the Wise Dragon that even surpassed his Sacred Sword. It was the divine providence of a dragon that could even overwrite the laws of the land. No substance in existence could maintain its form when burned by it. Unfortunately, the act only added to the hopelessness of the situation.

“Argh...” Michael muttered and swung his sword, splitting the surging blaze in two.

“Wha—?!”

It looked like some kind of sorcery had charged the sword, but that alone wouldn’t be enough to stop Raphael’s attack. Even if he couldn’t reach Alshiera’s level, his sword technique was the result of eight hundred years of diligent study, allowing him to cut even a dragon’s divine providence. Zagan had said that the power he’d granted Raphael could defeat any opponent, but it had failed to do so in this case. Thus, there was no mistaking his strength.

Even this monster couldn’t defeat Shere Khan...?

It was a little late, but the reality of whom exactly they were fighting was thrust before them. Still, even when faced with such an utter sense of despair, Raphael didn’t falter. He gripped his Sacred Sword in both hands and stood to face the human-shaped calamity, even though his face was that of a man resolved for death.

You can’t, father! If you fight like that, you won’t be able to come back!

“Take up your swords!” Kuroka screamed with all her might. “Assist Lord Raphael! He cannot fall!”

Her rebuke snapped the frozen Angelic Knights back to their senses.

“F-Fight! Protect Kianoides!”

The Angelic Knights roared and boldly set off to battle, but their opponents were heroes who no longer felt fear. Even if they were fully encircled, they didn’t feel any pressure.

Michael’s dull eyes slowly turned to Kuroka.

Back on that island, I couldn’t do a thing.

Kuroka had been completely overwhelmed by the pressure of the fight between Zagan and Andrealphus. It had taken everything she had to simply stand and watch without fleeing. However, if she stepped down now, she would lose everything precious to her—Raphael, the Angelic Knights, and above all else...Shax.

“Lord Hyurandell! I’ll fight with you!” Ginias, who was the closest, exclaimed as he started running to Raphael’s side. But before he got there, another enemy forced their way in between them. He was an old knight who looked about the same age as Raphael. He had chestnut hair with gray streaks and a mustache of the same color. His vacant eyes were green. He somewhat resembled Ginias...and upon seeing this man, Ginias turned white as a sheet.

“What...? No... Father...?”

The preceding Head Archangel Ginias Galahad I, the man said to have died in battle by Raphael and Wise Dragon Orobas’s side one year ago, appeared before them. The Nephilims were heroes of the past, the deceased of the past. And so, there was no reason to exclude someone who’d died a year ago. Even if he conducted himself with firm resolution, the young Ginias was a boy just shy of thirteen years old who’d only lost his father a year ago. How could he possibly remain calm when that very same father suddenly appeared as an enemy? The boy’s sword trembled in his hand as he let out ragged breaths. It was clear that he was hyperventilating.

“Hyahaaa! I’m the best! The best, I tell ya!” another strange voice screamed all of a sudden.

A storm of mana broke out and blew away dozens, friends and foes alike.

“That’s...Decarabia?”

It was the madman Kuroka had encountered on that uninhabited island in Liucaon—Archdemon Andrealphus’s personal disciple. One year ago, he’d been rejected as an Archdemon candidate due to his lunacy, but his strength was genuine. Kuroka felt something odd about this man’s arrival, though.

Nephilims. Resurrected heroes. Huh...? Isn’t that weird?

She didn’t have the time to ponder the thought, however.

“It’s no good. Things are falling apart.”

Three tremendous enemies had appeared at the same time, quickly surrounding Raphael. Maybe there were even more that Kuroka didn’t know about. There were likely those that the Angelic Knights recognized too. They were clearly shaken, and their encirclement of the enemy army was falling apart.

Once broken, the enemy army would surge toward Kianoides. Even if these heroes didn’t wish to do so, Shere Khan would make them. This was the one scenario Zagan had wanted to avoid the most.

If they break through here, Lilith, Selphy, and Kuu will be in danger.

With that thought in mind, Kuroka started running and bellowed, “Knights of the Azure Sky, I’ll leave things here to you! I’m going to protect Lord Raphael and Lord Galahad!”

Arvo Juutilainen was close by as well. Together, they’d be enough to fill in the gap caused by Kuroka leaving.

Kuroka ran through the chaotic battlefield. She plunged between an Angelic Knight and a soldier, bisecting the enemy as she passed. She jumped forward toward a knight who was losing his fight and had fallen backward, landing on the enemy he was fighting and using their face as a stepping stone to move forward. She then landed in the middle of an enemy formation, halting their momentum. They weren’t going to sit still and let her cut them down, of course, so they rushed her all at once. The wall of spears left no opening, threatening to tear Kuroka apart. And by all rights, they should have.

“Adelhide School—Misty Night.”

With exquisite footwork, she left afterimages in her enemies’ eyes. Even the kinetic vision of heroes wasn’t enough to help them keep up with her movements. She was like a black tempest. After cutting through the entire enemy formation, she landed among Raphael’s company, where she found a boy trembling as his late father pointed a sword at him.

“W-Waaah...! Huh?”

“Excuse me.”

Kuroka kept her grip on her shortsword and scooped up the young Ginias in her arm, pulling him away from the former Head Archangel.

“B-Behind you!”

Even if he was a puppet, this was still the former Head Archangel. He wasn’t one to let his enemies escape in the thick of battle. He caught up to Kuroka easily and swung his sword.

“Sorry. I’m in a hurry.”

Kuroka dropped Ginias...and rather than running, she slammed backward into her enemy. Caught by surprise, the old Galahad could no longer hit her with his sword. Kuroka then twisted around with her shortswords brandished.

“G-Gah!”

The old Galahad stopped her first sword, but the second followed shortly after.

“Hmph!”

With a high-pitched clang, the man’s sword snapped in half. This was the Adelhide School Sword Hunter technique. Just as the name implied, it aimed to break an opponent’s weapon. It was also the technique her late mother had specialized in.

It seemed even a puppet could be shaken. The old Galahad appeared to have no idea what had happened as Kuroka then put all her might into a roundhouse kick to his waist. His armor shattered with a dull crack, and the former Head Archangel flew back into a pack of enemy soldiers.

“She defeated Lord Galahad that easily...?” someone muttered in disbelief.

From the sidelines, everything had happened in an instant. All they’d seen was Galahad swinging his sword before his blade snapped in half and his body went flying. The strongest Archangel was undoubtedly Michael, but Kuroka was the strongest samurai. Her skills with a blade had already reached the peak of this era. Still, even if the battle with Galahad had only lasted an instant, Kuroka had shifted her focus away from another enemy.

“Look out, Kurosuke!”

“Huh?”

She thought she heard Shax yelling, but before she could even react, lethargy suddenly assaulted her. Michael’s ceremonial sword had plunged into Kuroka’s chest.

◇

“Hmph. So we’re finally going to meet in person.”

As both battlefields fell into hopeless situations, Zagan stepped foot into Shere Khan’s hidden base. He had his guide Dexia by his side. He couldn’t just toss her into this unarmed, so he’d given her a chainsword and basic enchanted equipment. That way, she had enough to at least defend herself.

Zagan looked up at the darkening sky and thought, I have one day left to fulfill my promise with Nephy...

As such, he planned to settle everything in one day. There was one major problem that stood in his way, however.

This is bad... My telepathic link with Orias was severed.

He’d set up a telepathic link to Raphael and Orias so that they could share information, but it had suddenly stopped functioning. He questioned whether Archdemon Orias could lose, but her opponent was “Nephteros”—Azazel. And so, he had to consider the worst. As such, he had to hurry.

He was at an abandoned mining facility a short distance from the fortress city Feo. It was only a small hill, so it probably hadn’t yielded much in its time. There were deserted buildings all over that had been used by the miners, so at a glance, it looked like there was nothing here at all. However, the path in front of him continued into a cave, which was where Shere Khan’s underground workshop was hidden—one that apparently used to belong to Bifrons.

“Master Shere Khan should be in the cave at the center of the mine. However, the layout is complex and there’s sorcery cast on it to turn it into a labyrinth, so—”

Ignoring Dexia’s warning, Zagan took a step into the mine.

“Ah, wait—!”

“Aren’t you in a hurry? Let’s just get going.”

The entire mine creaked in response to that single step, then let out a sound like shattering glass.

“No way... The whole labyrinth...?”

This maze had been created by an Archdemon, yet was broken with a single step. So long as it was sorcery, Zagan could devour it. Shere Khan surely didn’t believe that this would slow him down. Now that the labyrinth was broken, a Nephilim immediately charged out of the mine.

“Now then, time to do your job. Which way is it?”

Dexia raised her guard in a fluster as Zagan gently waved his hand as if warding off an incoming ball, striking the Nephilim in the head.

“Gyaaah!”

The Nephilim flew back and slammed into a wall, where he remained immobile. Zagan really had warded off the attacker casually, but that was no surprise, as any riffraff would’ve been crushed by his mana before getting close to him. The fact that he had to touch him at all meant that he had considerable strength. Dexia trembled in confusion, while Zagan briskly strode forward.

“Oh, p-please wait. I’ll lead the—”

“You stay behind me,” Zagan said, cutting her off. “They’re too much for you with the equipment you have.”

Dexia froze in place with her mouth agape.

“What...?” Zagan asked.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just, um...I didn’t think...that you’d protect me.”

Upon hearing that, Zagan realized that this girl had come here resolved for death. He let out a sigh. If he meant for her to die, he wouldn’t have gone out of his way to provide her with equipment.

“I told you that you’re under my protection. If you came here intending to die, then stop thinking such useless thoughts. You’re the one who keeps saying you want to save your sister. Tell me, do you plan on having her wake up only to find your corpse before her?”

“S-Sorry...”

The two of them proceeded through the mines, eventually coming upon an open room. There were rusty mine carts and pickaxes all over the place, while magic lights illuminated the most important spots. There were rails for the carts pointing in every cardinal direction, while the walls were reinforced with cut stone. Despite being in the center of a small deserted mine, this dimly illuminated room had a solemnity to it akin to a temple. It had likely been the core of the mining operations in the area.

“That path leads to Master Shere Khan’s laboratory,” Dexia said, pointing down one of the railways. “It’s also the cornerstone of his barrier, so he shouldn’t be able to leave that place. Also...Aristella is farther down the other path.”

It sounded like she would bolt off toward her sister at any moment. However, Zagan held up his arm to bar her path.

“Step back. It seems we’ll have to do some cleanup before we proceed any further.”

“Huh?”

Before Dexia even had time to process what he’d said, an ambusher leaped at them from the shadows. Zagan intercepted the attack with his fist, but he didn’t feel his blow connecting with some weakling. Instead, he felt cold and sharp steel.

“I see... I suppose the stronger ones are placed here.”

“Archdemon Zagan, your hand...”

Blood flowed from Zagan’s hand. The Archdemon’s fist had lost in the exchange. The one who’d attacked was still a boy who appeared to be around fifteen or sixteen years of age. His features somewhat resembled Ginias and Furcas. Seeing as he was a Nephilim, it meant that this boy had died at that age.

In his hand was a sword of light, similar to the one the man who was accompanying Alshiera had—a Hex Blade. Zagan could see why it was capable of injuring his fist. And after taking a look at the boy’s face, he furrowed his brows in confusion.

Silver eyes...?

The boy’s eyes were the same color as Zagan’s, and he had the same black hair as Kuroka. He should’ve been a complete stranger, and yet, his features remained stuck in Zagan’s mind.

The boy backed off to put some distance between them, allowing several others to line up alongside him as if obeying his commands. There were thirteen of them, including the boy, and every single one wielded a Hex Blade.

“Dexia. Keep your distance. This will take some time.”

“O-Okay...”

Seeing how Zagan’s fist had been injured, Dexia could tell that these opponents had strength far beyond her abilities. She retreated out of the room entirely. Once Zagan confirmed she had, he addressed his thirteen assailants even though it was questionable whether anything he said would get through to them.

“Nephilims are heroes from a thousand years ago, so I figured you’d appear...first-generation Archdemons.”

The fact that they all wielded swords backed Zagan’s prediction.

I see. This is why Shere Khan was confident he could take on all the other Archdemons by himself.

They were history’s strongest combat force—a group who’d once defeated Azazel. And if these were the first Archdemons, then that man had to be among them. Even Archdemons had feared incurring his wrath. Even Andrealphus had had no choice but to obey him.

Zagan shifted his gaze to the old man standing next to the silver-eyed boy and flatly said, “Eldest Marchosias.”

The previous owner of the Archdemon’s Heart that now dwelled in Zagan’s right hand appeared. He was the one who had placed that collar on Nephy...and in all likelihood, a man who Zagan would have had to risk his life to defeat, even in a one-on-one battle. And yet, he stood among twelve other Archdemons who matched his skill. Even as Zagan smiled arrogantly, he couldn’t halt the cold bead of sweat that ran down his cheek.