Chapter IV: Overcoming All Odds Is What a Hero Does

“Something’s wrong. No sorcerer or Angelic Knight could’ve done this.”

Dantalian’s adorable face twisted in consternation as she bit her thumbnail. The end had suddenly come. In just a single month, several Archdemons had been killed. When the world was at peace, those who wished to rebel against the established order always appeared. And there were, of course, sorcerers among such villains. That was why the Angelic Knights were there to keep the peace.

However, Archdemons were another matter entirely. Even if they weren’t comparable to Dantalian, every other Archdemon possessed enough power to overwrite the laws of the world itself. Killing them one after the other so easily was unthinkable.

What’s more, it was said that Dantalian’s master in sorcery, Marchosias, was next on the kill list. Thus, Dantalian had, of course, gone out to resolve the incident and save her master.

“Do you hear me, Shere Khan? Save any surviving sorcerers, even if it’s just one.”

I knew that already, so I didn’t need her to give me those orders. Still, I was happy to be brought along on such a dangerous mission. If we could find even one survivor, it would be possible for us to gather clues regarding this incident. We had headed to Marchosias’s castle with such intentions in mind, but it was already a ruin by the time we arrived. There was a mountain of sorcerers, and not a single one still drew breath.

“But where’s Marchosias...?” Dantalian muttered, unable to find his corpse among them. “Oh, right. He wouldn’t get beaten so easily. He’s obviously still alive somewhere around here.”

As I nodded along with her idea to go look for him, a group of Angelic Knights suddenly surrounded us. Her usual innocent smile vanished as she sharply addressed them.

“I don’t know what you’re planning, but could you step aside? I doubt you’ve forgotten who I am.”

Despite her childish appearance, she was the Head Archdemon. Even if they challenged her with twelve Sacred Swords, they’d be no match for her. There were only around a hundred knights present, so there was really no need for Dantalian to do anything. Even I could’ve easily handled such numbers.

Or at least, that should’ve been the case. In the next instant, she was defeated. The one who’d fought her was the man leading these knights. I didn’t recognize him, but Dantalian was remarkably shaken.

“Why are you standing there...? Why, Marchosias?!”

If there was anyone out there whom Dantalian couldn’t defeat, it was her master who’d taught her sorcery, Marchosias. And that very same man was leading the Angelic Knights.

“It’s your fault that it’s come to this. You’ve made this world too damn peaceful.”

She believed more than any other in a world where nobody had to be hurt. She desired peace more than any other. And yet, that was what her master told her.

“Why...?! Weren’t you the one who told me to save the world?! That sorcerers could heal the world?!” she screamed in sorrow.

“I did,” Marchosias answered with a sigh. “But who told you to create such a half-assed, lackadaisical world?”

The word “evil” was made for men like him.

“It was a mistake to leave this to you,” he said. “Angelic Knights and sorcerers must hate and kill each other. And yet, you sought harmony. You even actualized it. That is your sin.”

I never remembered much of what happened after that. Before I knew it, the Angelic Knights were gone...and Dantalian and I were on the verge of death. I knew that the only reason I still breathed was because she’d protected me.

“Sorry...Shere Khan... Maybe...I was wrong...”

There was no way she was. By saving someone, and in turn having that person save someone else, the world would continue to turn. I believed in that ideal as well. There was no way it could be wrong. I gripped the hand she held out to me and could feel the pulse vanishing from it. Her life was fading away. But even so, Dantalian spoke in earnest.

“Shere Khan...eat...me...”

Even as she cried, she forced herself to smile.

“This is it...for me... But you can still... If you ingest...my mana...you can...survive...”

As a tigryn, I could absorb the mana of anyone I ate. If I ate Dantalian, I surely would have survived.

“Please...stop Marchosias... I don’t want...a world...where everyone...kills each other...”

In the end, I found myself incapable of refusing my beloved’s dying wish.

◇

On the third day of the battle, Shere Khan rocked in his wheelchair while watching four crystal balls. The first showed the Nephilims who’d set out for Kianoides, pushing forward without any fear as they tried to break the Angelic Knights’ encirclement. That part was going well.

The second showed Orias losing to Azazel in a deserted town, and Orias’s daughter driven into a corner. Azazel had somewhat too much of a commanding position there, but it wasn’t a problem. The vessel was already falling apart. She clearly wouldn’t last past this evening. Azazel would vanish if left at large.

The third showed Kimaris...and this one was a little unexpected. Shere Khan’s script hadn’t included him coming in contact with that. But this actually saved Shere Khan the hassle. It was a necessity to him, after all.

Finally, the fourth showed Zagan’s battle with the thirteen Archdemons happening directly overhead.

“How...does it feel? Having...what you wanted...to protect...suffer...by your own hands... Or perhaps...you don’t...feel anything?”

If that was true, Dantalian would never have met that painful end. He was the one who’d betrayed her and ruined this world. Having Zagan clash with him was, in a sense, a meager act of revenge. Shere Khan leaned back into his wheelchair as he recalled that fateful day.

I was far too late in every imaginable way.

Shere Khan had eaten Dantalian. However, by the time he’d dragged his wounded body back to town, everything had already ended. With the murder of Head Archdemon Dantalian, the remaining Archdemons took action against the Angelic Knights on a grand scale. They’d roused the Archdemons’ wrath. Their revenge was beyond description.

Conversely, this gave the Angelic Knights a reason to brand all sorcerers evil. The masses then entrusted their faith in the neat and pure Angelic Knights rather than the terrifying sorcerers, which led to the alienation of sorcerers. No matter how much Shere Khan shouted, nobody listened to him.

All he had left was the Sigil of the Archdemon from Dantalian’s right hand. He felt tremendous emptiness. Nothing awaited him after killing his beloved and eating her just to survive. He’d considered destroying the world many times over ever since that fateful day. However, Dantalian had wanted to save the world. And among all that despair, Shere Khan managed to find a way to bring her back, as well as a way to create a peaceful world where nobody fought...and nobody killed each other. He found a way to put all the cogs that had fallen out of place back to where they belonged.

And so, he’d created it—a copy of that girl from the days of yore. However, he’d lost her once again. He never once cared about his own life, but in the battle against Marchosias, he’d failed to protect her.

But the vessel I lost survived these last five years.

The vessel didn’t possess Dantalian’s memories, but she still had the same body and name as her. Thus, Shere Khan had no idea what to do with the girl.

◇

“Hey. Hey you. How about waking up already?”

He could hear someone’s voice. He didn’t recognize it. Were they speaking to him? His body felt heavy and his thoughts were slow. He tried opening his eyes, but couldn’t see anything. It was pitch-black. And within that darkness, a white silhouette suddenly appeared and looked at his face.

“Finally. You woke up. Can you understand me?”

“Umm, yes...”

She sounded like an adult, but looked like a little girl. She couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen.

An elf...?

Her ears tapered to a point. Her long white hair was fluffy like cotton candy, while her eyes were blue like a clear lake. She wore a simple, old-fashioned dress decorated with dignified ornaments, and had similar features to the girl Archdemon Zagan was deeply in love with. However, the first person to come to this man’s mind was someone else entirely.

“Lady Nephteros!”

“Hyah!”

He got up with so much vigor that the girl fell backward. Without even having the composure to try to help her, Richard remembered what had happened to him. After learning of how little time Nephteros had left in the world, when he’d had her in his arms, something had suddenly pierced his chest. The last thing he remembered was Nephteros screaming in despair.

“I have to go—!”

“Hey now, stop right there,” the girl said, cutting him off. “Do you even know where this is?”

“Huh...?”

Richard regained his senses when the girl suddenly tugged on his sleeve. Everything was pitch black as far as the eye could see. The sensation at his feet was nebulous. It was questionable whether there was even any solid ground beneath him.

“Where are we...?” Richard asked.

“Good question. To put it frankly...I suppose you’d call this hell?”

Richard couldn’t refute that claim.

“So I died...?” he asked.

“No. It seems you didn’t. You’re pretty popular, apparently. Those around you put in a lot of effort to save you and managed to keep you alive. Congratulations.”

“Oh... Thanks...”

This girl spoke in circles and remained vague, throwing him off a little. She didn’t seem to be trying to tease him, however. Just then, Richard finally realized that the girl was still sitting on the ground.

“Oh, forgive me. Are you hurt?” he asked as he held out his hand.

The girl stared at him as if criticizing him for a moment, then took his hand and replied, “Nope. You’re as much of a gentleman as you seem. That’s a relief.”

Richard felt ashamed. Even considering the sense of urgency driving him, he’d knocked down a girl and hadn’t even offered her a hand. As she stood back up, Richard realized that she was more petite than he’d thought. In fact, she only came as high as his stomach. She might’ve been taller than Alshiera, but just barely. He wasn’t sure how she’d interpreted his inquisitive gaze, but the girl broke into laughter.

“Oh, there’s no need to worry too much. My people are generally short of stature. Besides, despite appearances, I’m actually far older than you.”

“I-Is that so?”

Where was he? And who was this girl? With those thoughts in mind, Richard suddenly realized something.

Is she a prisoner here? If so, I can’t simply leave her.

As such, he held out his hand to her once more.

“I need to get back,” he said. “I don’t know which way to go, but would you like to accompany me? I believe it would be better than staying here.”

“Oh? You’ll help me? From the look of it, you don’t even have a sword.”

“Swinging a sword isn’t all there is to fighting. I’m still inexperienced, but I’ll exhaust myself to my fullest.”

“Then...I suppose I’ll have you escort me,” the girl said. She then took his hand and suddenly started walking.

“Um, where are we heading?” Richard asked.

“Tee hee! Aren’t you the one who said we’d be better off moving than staying still? Don’t worry, I doubt anything bad will happen.”

“Right...”

As they walked, the girl turned to him with a teasing look and asked, “Hmm. I thought you’d be barraging me with questions. Don’t you want to ask me anything?”

“Pushing a lady for answers on a first meeting is not the way of a knight.”

“Ha ha ha! I admire your refined senses, but there are times when women want to be asked questions. If there’s someone you have your heart set on, then you should keep that in mind.”

“Umm, that sounds rather difficult to differentiate.”

A woman’s heart was very complex indeed.

“Then you can just think of this as me talking to myself,” the girl started. “Let’s see, where to begin? Oh, right. I referred to this as hell, remember?”

“Yes.”

“I’m talking to myself. You don’t need to answer.”

“......”

She was a tiresome girl. Richard forced a smile onto his face, and after seeing that, the girl continued to speak, sounding almost satisfied with herself.

“In truth, I’m a sinner. Well, I suppose rather than just me, I should say that we as an entire race are. I’m certain we exhausted every villainy possible. I’ve even burned innocent citizens many times... Truly, many, many times...”

The girl’s smile turned hollow.

“Rebellions happened every day, and every time we suppressed them with our power. Alas, if only we’d fallen to ruin faster. However, we sinners still had families and friends. We had things we wished to protect. Thus, we couldn’t allow ourselves to quietly perish by their hands. How foolish we were.”

The girl slumped her shoulders, looking even frailer than before.

“That’s why we were destined to perish. And so we did. What I’m going through now is simply my due punishment. Still, there’s just one thing I can’t stand.”

Urged on by her resentment, the girl’s strides sped up.

“I can’t stand my power being used by someone to oppress others.”

Who exactly is this girl...?

As a humble knight, Richard didn’t possess enough information to take a guess. If Chastille or Kuroka were here instead, they would’ve been able to identify this girl as a seraph, but he didn’t even know that word. Nevertheless, he felt like she needed saving, just like Nephteros did.

“Humans are prone to errors. That goes the same for everyone. The best intentions could still lead to tragedy. Even if I’d had hope in someone, they could walk off the right path. My last master wasn’t like that at first. He was a gentleman just like you. But...”

What exactly had this girl experienced? She tried to continue earnestly pouring her heart out with trembling shoulders, but Richard cut in as if to tell her he’d heard enough.

“I’m just talking to myself here,” he said as she turned around with a blank look. “There’s a woman I’m in love with, but she doesn’t have long to live and needs to be saved. I’m certain I’d dirty my hands with any deed if it would save her.”

The girl drooped her shoulders in disappointment upon hearing his statement.

“However,” Richard continued, “even though I believe that, no matter what happens to her, I do not wish to be someone I would be ashamed of, especially in front of her. I wish to be a man who corrects wrongs and lives as an example to the people.”

Everyone in the world had a conscience and malicious intent. The two continuously affected one’s life. Any choice made by one person could seem correct to them, but wrong to someone else.

“People make mistakes. I know that for a fact. I mean, you never know if something you did is right until far later.”

Nobody out there always did the right thing in every single situation. If someone truly never made a mistake, they would’ve been beyond understanding, more god than human.

“That’s why I think if you try to live true to yourself, even if what you do is wrong, someone will surely respond in kind.”

The girl cracked a smile as she pondered his words.

“Hee hee! I’m grateful for your comforting words, but there are horrors out there that the world can definitely declare as firmly wrong.”

“Is that so? Didn’t you just tell me that you sinners had something you wished to protect? That you had no choice but to do so for their sake?”

“But burning innocent civilians is clearly an unjust act.”

Perhaps. But even so, Richard shook his head.

“Maybe. But maybe it’s precisely because you committed that unjust act that someone appeared to correct it. So, in a way, doesn’t that mean they appeared to ease your suffering?”

Angelic Knights disparaged sorcerers as evil and subjugated them. That was a virtue the masses desired from them. That was how it had been in the beginning, even if some distortions had developed over the course of history. However, those evil sorcerers also had families. Maybe they had people who were precious to them that they were just trying to protect.

And yet, while claiming that such things didn’t need consideration, the church took that virtue to an extreme and declared them an evil that had to be purged. That was what the late Cardinal Clavwell had done, and he had subsequently met his end as a result.

“You mean to say that everything that goes around comes around?” the girl asked.

“Yes. I believe even your suffering should come around to summon someone who can answer your hopes. Or at the very least, I would like to be that person.”

Perhaps Richard had made a mistake. Nephteros had been driven to the edge because he’d told her he loved her.

Still, I wanted to support her.

Even if it had been a mistake, even after getting lost in this place, that feeling hadn’t faded in the least. He wanted her to be happy...and he wouldn’t let anyone call that a mistake. He wouldn’t let anyone say it was meaningless. The same went for this girl’s suffering.

“How simplistic of you,” the girl muttered in exasperation.

“I’m ashamed to admit it, but you’re right.”

“But you have a point,” she said with a light nod. “That’s why we lost a thousand years ago.”

“A thousand years...?”

The first thought that came to Richard’s mind was Alshiera. Had this girl lived for such a harsh amount of time too? If so, words from someone like Richard wouldn’t provide any comfort whatsoever. And yet, the girl nodded in an unexpectedly pleased manner.

“Hee hee! Your little soliloquy was rather amusing,” she said. “It wasn’t what I hoped for, but it wasn’t bad either.”

She spun around on the spot cheerfully, then faced Richard once more.

“What awaits you from here on out is sure to be full of hardships that can be likened to hell,” she said. “Perhaps you yourself will be the one to create that hell. I wonder, will you still believe in what you just told me even considering that?”

Now that he’d been reminded of Alshiera, he couldn’t help but liken this girl’s behavior to hers. That was why he could understand. Her question wasn’t one meant to be answered with some half-baked resolve. Thus, Richard quietly closed his eyes and began questioning himself.

Even the choice one believed was best could go horribly wrong. There were cases where that could beckon a calamity akin to hell. When that time came, would someone truly be there to stop him?

“Yes,” Richard answered with a smile of conviction. “A man incapable of at least believing that much stands no chance of saving her.”

“In that case...please make me believe in those words as well,” the girl said, stretching out her hand as if asking for help. Seeing that, Richard took her hand firmly. “If you’ll answer my hopes, then I shall become your blade. Sacred Sword Camael shall be yours.”

With those last words, the girl vanished as if melting away into the darkness. The hand he’d had in his grasp was gone, and in its place was a greatsword.

“This is...!”

“I pray that this power shall not be the blade that cuts open the gates of hell.”

Richard held up the sword, which peeled away the darkness. There was now a body of water before him. Many fragments of shattered boats floated atop the lake of darkness. At its center was a mountainous wriggling shadow. It was a shadow of sludge, mimicking the form of the one he held dear to his heart. It was an incarnation of despair that was far beyond the power of a single Angelic Knight.

“Lady Nephteros. I’m coming to get you.”

Nevertheless, Richard dashed toward it.

◇

“Now then, which way should I go?” Kimaris mumbled to himself while pulling out the last sword that was sticking out of his shoulder.

He was in enemy territory, where Zagan had forced his way through. There were countless dead foes all around him. Shortly after Foll’s power had brought the battle to a halt, Shere Khan’s intervention had transformed the Nephilims into combat puppets. They could no longer be stopped through words or fear. The only way to stop them now was to meet them directly with a show of overwhelming strength.

During this time, Kimaris had exhausted himself by stalling the enemy headquarters. Even from afar, he could tell that the Angelic Knights were at a disadvantage. If he were to step aside, the remaining seven thousand soldiers would surge toward them. That was why he’d chosen to stand and fight.

He’d paid an appropriate price for such a choice, of course. He’d slain so many enemies that simply trying to count them would’ve been a ridiculous endeavor, and he’d had swords and spears stabbed into his arms, legs, and back to match that number. Even so, none had made it past him.

Reduced to mindless puppets, the Nephilims no longer possessed the capacity for independent thought. Though, they followed Shere Khan’s every command. Having judged that neither hundreds nor thousands of them would be enough to break through, the enemy advance had finally ground to a stop. Kimaris needed time to heal his wounds, but he could do that on the move.

Now that the enemy had stopped, he had to decide whether to follow Zagan’s orders and head to Shere Khan or not. However, he couldn’t ignore the Angelic Knights’ disadvantageous position either. He had been pondering over what to do for a while, when suddenly, he heard light footsteps approaching.

“That’s... Hmm, well, that won’t do.”

Kimaris’s sense of smell identified who was approaching him. He forced his wounded body up and turned toward the sound, spotting a little girl. It was the girl Zagan, or rather, Zagan’s friend Stella, had taken in as a little sister. Her name was Lisette, if Kimaris remembered correctly. She was running, apparently searching for something.

Suddenly, one of the surviving Nephilims swayed back to his feet in front of her. The girl’s face twisted in fear, but before anything else happened, Kimaris’s hand had already reached the soldier’s head.

“Rest in peace. Your fight is already over.”

The enemy soldier let out a shriek and quickly fell face-first into the dirt. Lisette’s mouth flapped open and shut as Kimaris smiled at her as gently as he could manage.

“Are you hurt?” he asked. “It’s dangerous out here.”

Lisette was scared, but her delayed response was more likely because she was out of breath.

“I have... I have to go,” she said between ragged breaths as she shook her head.

“Go? Go where?”

“To the man named Shere Khan,” she said in a rush, as if just calming down would be a waste of time.

Kimaris stared at the girl sternly.

Is she being manipulated? No, it doesn’t seem like it...

He’d already heard that this girl was very likely related to Shere Khan’s subordinates, Dexia and Aristella. Nevertheless, she was a civilian. She couldn’t fight. That was why she wasn’t one to run into a place like this spurred only by emotion.

It must have taken her significant resolve to make it this far.

Zagan was sure to hate the idea of letting this girl reach Shere Khan. Still, Kimaris sympathized with Lisette’s courage and determination. And so, he squatted down to match her eyeline.

“It’s very, very dangerous that way, you know?” he asked, just to be sure.

“I know.”

“I’m sure it’ll only hurt you to go there.”

“I know that as well.”

There was no hesitation whatsoever in her response.

“I see. Very well. Do you know who I am?”

“Mhm... You’re one of the Archdemon’s friends, right?”

“Yes. I’m going to be heading toward Sir Zagan now. The man you’re looking for, Shere Khan, will also be there,” Kimaris said, then paused for a moment and held out his hand. “Will you come with me?”

“Yes,” she answered immediately, taking his hand.

◇

“A-Archdemon Zagan!” Dexia screamed in sorrow.

How long had his battle with the first-generation Archdemons lasted? The sun had already set outside and it was currently in the middle of rising again. The former Archdemons were all sorcerers, which meant Zagan could devour their sorcery. His reserves of mana had held up thanks to that, but blood still poured from his body, so he’d finally been brought down to a knee.

I could beat them one at a time...

Present-day sorcery hadn’t advanced so little that it’d lose to sorcery from a thousand years ago. When it came to reinforcing his body, Zagan was several stages beyond them, and he’d been eating whatever sorcery they could manage, anyway. Despite this, they reacted fast enough not to be outdone by his movements and even managed to strike back at him. Even when he used his Shadow Sever, they dodged his fist. It was like a nightmare come true.

“Stay back. You’ll get dragged in— Heaven’s Phosphor Autumn Lightning.”

Black lightning poured down all around Zagan. It didn’t possess enough penetration power to cut through the abandoned mine to the lower levels, but there was enough lightning to cover the entire room. Every fork of electricity was made of Heaven’s Phosphor. A single graze would spell the end of anyone’s life.

Regardless, when the black lightning faded, not a single Archdemon had been defeated. The Hex Blades they wielded had no substance to them. They were blades of mana, so cutting off their supply of mana could make the blade vanish. Even if they were about to be struck by Heaven’s Phosphor, the Archdemons could simply erase the blade before the corrosion reached the hilt.

They’d fended off Autumn Lightning by striking the bolts out of the air and erasing their blades. Even the Archangels wouldn’t be able to mimic such a feat. In other words, these Archdemons all surpassed the Archangels in swordsmanship. Still, Zagan had known that they’d be able to block his attacks. He hadn’t fired Autumn Lightning in some vain last-ditch effort.

By the time the black lightning settled down, he’d reached the boy with silver eyes. He knew the boy’s Hex Blade wouldn’t reactivate in time, so Zagan’s fist mercilessly plunged toward his face.

“Gah!”

However, his fist grazed the boy’s cheek, and in return, he took a blow from the hilt of the boy’s sword. The other Archdemons finished reactivating their Hex Blades and came surging in, leaving Zagan with no choice but to get away from them.

Two figures were the central pillars of this fight.

Marchosias and this silver-eyed boy just won’t go down.

Marchosias had survived to the present era and developed his sorcery all the while. Thus, Zagan’s knowledge couldn’t compare to his at all. This old man gave the other Archdemons strength, healed them, and commanded them in battle. All attempts to deliver a fatal blow with Heaven’s Phosphor were avoided, and any other wounds had no lasting effects.

Zagan’s ability to devour sorcery meant that he could imitate any sorcery he saw, but this terrifying sorcerer was mixing easy-to-see sorcery with difficult-to-see sorcery to complicate his spells to the point where Zagan couldn’t devour everything.

However, even more troubling was the silver-eyed boy. This boy’s Hex Blade could tear apart Zagan’s fist. What’s more, even without Marchosias’s support, he could react to Zagan’s Shadow Sever and go on the offensive with deadly accuracy. Plus, even if the other Archdemons weren’t at their level, they still weren’t all that far behind.

I can’t break the puppetry at work either...

They were being manipulated by sorcery, but also not by sorcery. They’d definitely been created by sorcery, but they’d been crafted in such a way that a single word from Shere Khan could dominate the functions of their mind. They’d been made to function that way biologically. The only way to undo the control he had over them was to break down their minds, or their entire beings, and then remake them. It was theoretically possible, but not practical against opponents he couldn’t even touch.

Before he knew it, Zagan had been forced on the defensive and had used up all his power. Still, there was another reason for his inferior position aside from a simple gap in strength.

“I thought you were a complete stranger. How unexpected. I’m pretty shaken by all this.”

Zagan knew far too much to be unable to identify the silver-eyed boy.

This man is my...

What kind of man was he? What kind of life had he lived? Did he know of Zagan’s existence? What did he think when he first saw Zagan? None of that mattered. Or at least, it shouldn’t have. And yet, bewilderment, hatred, and other indescribable feelings welled up within Zagan.

Without giving Zagan the time to ponder such thoughts, the silver-eyed boy closed in.

“Shadow Sever!”

Zagan’s body accelerated so fast that he left his shadow behind. In an instant, he was behind the silver-eyed boy, lunging toward him with a killing blow, but the boy smoothly dodged as if he had eyes on the back of his head and swung his Hex Blade at him in response.

That reaction was enough to convince Zagan. This boy’s silver eyes were the same as Zagan’s. Much like how Zagan read the flow of his opponents’ sorcery to overwrite and absorb them, this boy read the flow of mana to predict any and all movements. That was why he could dodge Zagan’s fist so thoroughly and even counterattack. Their powers were hopelessly similar. So similar, in fact, that he could feel a connection to this boy.

Zagan gritted his teeth and used Shadow Sever to get away from the silver-eyed boy, lunging instead toward Marchosias, who was supporting the other Archdemons from the rear.

“MARCHOSIAS!”

Zagan didn’t want to say his name, but he screamed it. This man was an Archdemon and a hero from a thousand years past. Having taken a direct line to approach him, Marchosias was obviously capable of reading Zagan’s trajectory and blocking him.

Zagan dodged the first Archdemon to attack him by lowering himself beneath their blade. The next Archdemon ate his fist. It was a definite hit, but the feedback felt light. The Archdemon had jumped back to reduce the impact. Still, that was enough for Zagan to get through.

He met the next Archdemons in his way with punches and kicks or slipped by them. Zagan made it all the way to Marchosias and was now in range. At this point, no matter what the other Archdemons did, Zagan’s fist would reach first. Or at least, that was what he’d expected.

“Gah... Hak!”

Marchosias gently brushed aside Zagan’s killing blow. In the next instant, Zagan found himself upside down, slamming into the ground. He’d been warded off by martial arts. Even Stella and Kimaris weren’t this skilled. And yet, this reversal technique was one Zagan’s body knew to a bitter extent. It was how he’d had his arts drilled into his body, after all. He’d been trained by this very hand, the one that had given him bread when the only thing awaiting him had been dying of starvation in the alleys.

I already knew all this!

He’d already considered the possibility, but he’d hoped it wouldn’t be the case. He’d come here knowing he’d most likely meet him, yet he couldn’t help but feel betrayed. And now, having missed his killing blow, Zagan was left wide open.

“Ah...”

By the time he’d regained his senses, the thirteen Archdemons had swung their Hex Blades at him. Red droplets gushed into the air like a fountain. Bifrons had once said that the Sigil of the Archdemon was a seal created by cutting the Demon Lord’s body into chunks with twelve Sacred Swords. Right here, right now, thirteen Hex Blades plunged into Zagan’s flesh as if mimicking that tale.

◇

“Chastille!”

“I’m...okay. I can still...fight.”

Having faced “Nephteros’s” spear of light the moment she’d appeared, Chastille had suffered significant wounds. Had Barbatos not protected her from the shadows, quite literally, she’d be long dead. Chastille now used her wounded body to fight so that the others could get away.

“Hee hee hee! Will you keep playing with me? Oh, what an adorable child. What a lovely child. Just like my little fawn, you dance and dance without ever breaking!”

“Gh... Stop!” Chastille screamed. “Stop this already, Nephteros! You’ll really die!”

Following in the wake of her right hand, “Nephteros’s” left leg was starting to crumble away.

I can’t allow her to keep fighting!

Nephy was desperate, but the fighting wouldn’t stop. Orias’s wounds were deep. She was alive, but she couldn’t fight anymore. Asura’s right arm was broken. Chastille bought time while Nephy healed the two of them, but she was nearly at her limit. Even worse, the two Hex Wings Orias had staked her life on destroying had already reformed.

“That’s enough, missy.”

“But...”

Asura stood up. Nephy had somehow managed to stem the bleeding, but his right arm was still in shambles.

“My Hex Arm is back. A thousand years ago, this woulda been nothin’.”

With that, Asura charged toward “Nephteros” once more. As Nephy watched his back shrink into the distance, a voice called out to her from her shadow.

“I’m warnin’ ya... If it gets dangerous, I’m gettin’ outta here. I’ll take the crybaby with me too. Surviving is more important and all, you see.”

“I know. Please take care of Chastille.”

He was already going so far out of his way to help them out. Nephy was honestly grateful. She couldn’t possibly criticize him.

“Hey, ain’t it enough already?” Barbatos added bitterly. “You’ve done good. You even lived up to that idiot Zagan’s ridiculous request. Even if you back down now, nobody’s gonna complain or nothin’.”

Barbatos didn’t mention running away or giving up. Nephy truly did believe he was a kind man, even if Zagan claimed otherwise.

“I’ve got plenty of space,” Barbatos continued, opening the shadows. “When I take the crybaby, I can at least take all of you along for the ride as a freebie, ya know?”

Nephy was grateful for the offer, but she firmly shook her head.

“She’s my little sister.”

“Tch... Come on. Sure, you might feel that way, but she’s actually—”

“She’s my sister,” Nephy repeated in a tone far stronger than she’d imagined.

With that, Barbatos understood.

“You noticed...?” he muttered.

Nephy didn’t answer him. Instead, she smiled and said, “She really is kind, and cute, and my one and only little sister. She doesn’t even know her own birthday yet. After we celebrate Master Zagan’s birthday, we’ll try to find hers out next. And then, we’ll all celebrate together. To that end, she must survive!”

“Hah! You spout the same crap as the crybaby.”

Nephy found those words unexpectedly comforting.

“I’m happy to hear that. Chastille was my very first friend, after all.”

Just then, someone gripped Nephy’s hand.

“Ne...phy...”

“Mother!”

Orias had woken up, but was still seriously wounded.

“I’m...fine now... Save her...”

“R-Right!”

It was clear that she still required treatment, but Nephy nodded nonetheless. Orias then placed her other hand atop Nephy’s.

“I may have...been mistaken in my approach... This hand...might not have...been one...destined to take up a sword...”

“Mother...?”

“Nephteros reacted...when you reached out to her... Your hand...may reach her...”

The Sigil of the Archdemon on the back of Orias’s hand glowed and floated away from her body.

“H-Hey. The hell are you up to?” Barbatos murmured in bewilderment.

It was as if the Sigil of the Archdemon was looking at Nephy. She felt such pressure from it that it took all her focus just to breathe. Zagan and Orias suppressed such power on a daily basis. Any normal person wouldn’t have been able to withstand possessing it.

“Do you have the resolve to accept it?” Orias asked.

“Yes!” Nephy answered without hesitation.

If I can reach Nephteros like this, then I’ll accept anything!

Nephy held out both her hands, just like she once had out on that balcony in the castle. Zagan, who’d held out his hand with her that day, wasn’t with her now. Still, her desire to be by his side drove her to reach further. It felt like her body would be crushed. It felt like she would faint. Nephy gritted her teeth to rebuke her weakness for even considering such thoughts, then continued to stretch her hand out for the Sigil of the Archdemon.

“Gah...! Hey! Get away from there! It’s comin’ for you!”

She heard Asura’s voice. Nephy didn’t have the leisure to shift her gaze, but she knew “Nephteros” was coming toward her. She’d also reacted to the Sigil of the Archdemon, it seemed.

“Ugh...! I don’t get paid enough for this, dammit!”

Barbatos popped out of the shadows and constructed a barrier. Transparent shadowy walls surrounded “Nephteros” on all sides, halting her movements. No, technically, she remained in motion. Upon touching one wall, she appeared on the other side. That space was apparently an enclosed loop. In this alliance to save Nephteros, of all people, the one who risked his life at the very last moment was none other than Barbatos.

However, cracks rapidly formed on his barrier. It clearly wouldn’t last long.

You’ve bought more than enough time. Thank you very much, Lord Barbatos.

Nephy’s finger touched the Sigil of the Archdemon. Her right hand burned. Mana went wild inside her as if she suddenly had a second heart. And then, light burst out all around her.

“Go, Nephy... You’re the newest Archdemon... Use that hand to take hold of her...”

“Right!” Nephy yelled, the Sigil of the Archdemon glowing on her right hand.

Picking up Azazel’s Staff, Nephy ran off—

“Oh, Hex Wings.”

—with six wings at her back.

◇

The Archdemons’ Hex Blades mercilessly tore through all of Zagan’s limbs, but his eyes were never once tainted with the light of defeat.

I’ve been waiting for this!

The wounds appeared fatal, but every single blade had missed his vitals.

“Hm...?”

Bewilderment spread among the Archdemons. Small lights, which were akin to flowers, wrapped around their swords.

Heaven’s Scale Snowfield. It was an application of Heaven’s Scale with a focus on accuracy. That was what had caused the thirteen Hex Blades to deviate ever so slightly.

Zagan stiffened his muscles, using his own body to lock the Hex Blades in place. Zagan knew the Archdemons would reveal an opening once they were convinced they’d delivered the finishing blow. And when he spotted it, he rose off the ground and drove his first toward the Archdemon in front of him—the silver-eyed boy.

“Gah!”

The punch easily blew the boy away.

Finally... I finally landed a blow!

Zagan had to crush him before he regained his composure.

“Wh-What...the...?”

However, the moment Zagan tried to give chase, his knees buckled. Even if he was an Archdemon, this was his third continuous day of fighting. Despite the constant healing and reinforcement of his body, the accumulated damage had reached a point that he could no longer ignore.

My body...won’t move...

Luckily, it seemed Zagan hadn’t been the only one waiting for this moment. Just as the silver-eyed boy regained his balance, countless bats swarmed down in front of him.

“Alshiera?”

The incorrigible vampire had apparently been observing this battle. A slender arm stretched out of the bats and wrapped around the silver-eyed boy’s face, and then...of all things, Alshiera’s face popped out and locked lips with him.

A crack resounded in the air as something had shattered.

“It’s time for you to wake up, my dearest. This boy is not the one you’re meant to point your sword toward.”

Her voice was ever so sweet, yet ever so sorrowful. Had she reached him? The boy’s silver eyes glimmered with the light of reason. But Zagan had no time to simply sit there and watch. He was on his knees...and the other Archdemons were bearing down on him once more.

“Tch! Snowfield!”

Wounds left behind by Hex Blades were slow to heal, much like with Sacred Swords. This stalled Zagan’s reaction by the smallest of seconds. One of the swords he’d failed to avert closed in on his heart.

I can’t stop it!

The moment that thought crossed his mind, Zagan suddenly felt his body float into the air.

“Good grief. I don’t quite understand what’s going on, but I’m pretty sure I know exactly who you are.”

The voice was even more childish than the boy’s appearance would suggest. The silver-eyed boy had Zagan in his arms as he landed a good distance away from the other Archdemons. The boy—who was clearly younger than Zagan—placed Zagan down gently, then gave him a pat on the head.

“You hung in there very well. You’ve done better than anyone could’ve hoped for, really. I don’t think I have the right to say this after all this time, but I’m proud of you.”

Why was this strange boy he’d never met before acting so haughty? That thought should’ve run through Zagan’s mind, but his heart was filled with an incomprehensible sentiment instead. The corners of his eyes turned hot as he slapped the boy’s hand away.

“I’m plenty proud of my own life. I don’t need praise from the likes of you.”

He’d lived like a glutton in the alleys. He’d stolen from others and had killed people simply because he hadn’t liked them.

But even so, Nephy still loves me.

As such, no matter how dirty he got, he couldn’t possibly reject the life he’d lived.

“Heh heh... You resemble your mother,” the boy muttered.

“......”

Zagan didn’t even check to see whom the boy was looking at.

What has she felt all this time while staying by my side...?

The true meaning behind that compassionate yet lonely gaze she’d directed his way from time to time was...

“You can leave the rest to me,” the silver-eyed boy said, stepping forth with his Hex Blade at the ready. “You’re far too injured.”

“Mind your own business... I don’t know what era you’re from, but sorcery has advanced plenty since then.”

Zagan rose to his feet with the utmost composure. A faint light filled in the wounds that had been dealt to him by the Hex Blades. Heaven’s Scale Prayer Shell had even repaired wounds dealt by Hex Nails, so this was nothing.

With that, Zagan stood by the boy’s side.

“I see,” the boy said with a delighted grin. “Then let’s start over. We can fight them together—Zagan.”

Zagan had never given him his name, but the boy still referred to him by it.

“Hmph! Don’t hold me back.”

Zagan didn’t notice that, even as he spoke such cold words, a smile rose to his face. And upon seeing the two of them like that, the vampire in the distance silently shed tears.

◇

“Why...? Father...?”

Black Dragon Marbas had been pulverized in a single blow. Foll plummeted from its head and even forgot all about the wings on her back. The enormous wings and scales of the dragon before her weren’t even a shadow of their former selves, but she still knew who it was. There was no way she wouldn’t recognize him. That revolting and festering zombie dragon was none other than Foll’s father, Orobas.

Zagan and Nephy were her current parents...and both of them accepted and loved her as if she were their real child, perhaps even more than Orobas had. She knew this full well, but having such a being thrust before her—and attack her at that—made it impossible for her to maintain her composure.

As the ground drew nearer, she finally realized that she was on the verge of dying, but it was far too late to start flapping her wings. Just when she was sure she was dead, someone suddenly caught her in their arms.

“Are you all right, little lady?”

It was a young man with slit-thin eyes. He didn’t look like a sorcerer, yet he somehow twisted his body in the air and landed smoothly, absorbing the momentum from falling back to the ground in a splendid aerial maneuver.

“Who are you...?” Foll asked. She couldn’t recognize his face or scent, but there was a faint whiff of someone she did recognize wafting off him. “You smell like Alshiera...”

“Hmm, you can tell? As you’ve surmised, I have come at Lady Alshiera’s command. My name is Bato. I may not be all that strong, but I’ve come to support you.”

Support? As in fight? Against who?

Even though he’d been reduced to such a state, that was still her father. He was the legendary Wise Dragon Orobas, the closest being to a god. As his daughter, she knew his greatness better than anyone else. Was this man going to challenge such overwhelming strength? Foll trembled, unable to utter a word, as the zombie dragon opened its mouth.

“OoOooOOOoOooOoOH!”

She could see light gathering in its maw, so all the blood drained from her face. His breath attack wasn’t pointed at the battlefield, but at Kianoides.

“Sto—!” Foll roared, stretching out her hand and clawing at the air as the light of destruction poured forth.

“In the name of Hypnoel and the Silver-Eyed King, demonstrate your strength—Mirror of the Afterlife.”

“Neptunia’s Ainselph sings for you—Neptune’s Tear.”

A dome of light spread over Kianoides as if shielding the city.

Liucaon’s Holy Treasures?

Foll had seen this same scene when she’d been taken over by a curse. The breath of destruction collided with the shield of light. In an instant, a crack formed over the shield, but the breath attack also bent and shot off randomly into the sky.

“Are those the Silver-Eyed King’s descendants?” Bato asked in admiration.

Foll enhanced her eyesight with sorcery, spotting Lilith on the cathedral spire being supported by Selphy. Lilith smiled as she weakly sank to the floor.

“Heh. Heh... Heh... How’d you like that? The rest...is up...to you...”

She was too far away to be audible, even with sorcery, but that was what Lilith’s lips seemed to be saying.

“Right on! Leave it to me, Lilith!”

Following that, a black sphere burst into existence in front of Orobas.

“Furcas.”

The boy who should’ve forgotten all of his sorcery soared through the air and stood before Orobas, wielding a white Seraph Hunter in his hand.

“My friend. Allow me to put you to rest—Angelic Confession Metatron.”

The crimson flame took on the shape of a knight with none other than Raphael riding on its back.

Everyone’s fighting...

Zagan had said that Foll was the closest to being an Archdemon. In terms of strength, that was surely the case. This wasn’t arrogance. It was simply reality.

But everything’s suddenly turned upside down...

Overreaching could lead to failure. Even reduced to such a state, that was still Wise Dragon Orobas. Challenging such a being was the very definition of recklessly overreaching.

“But...” Foll muttered, putting her feet back on the ground. “But even so, that’s my father.”

Nephy and Zagan loved her and gave her a place to belong. They were her beloved mommy and daddy. But it was also true that Foll was a dragon, and the dragon she looked up to as her ideal was her real father. Thus, she couldn’t possibly allow him to be desecrated.

“I’m the one who mourns most for Wise Dragon Orobas.”

That was why Foll would fight.

“I shall accompany you,” Bato said with a reverent bow.

And so, Foll spread her wings and returned to the battle.

“Oh! Please wait a moment, little, I mean, my lady! I can’t fly!”

She felt like she heard someone screaming behind her, but Foll didn’t stop.

◇

“Kurosuke! Keep it together, Kuroka!”

A few moments earlier, Kuroka had opened her eyes upon having her shoulders shaken.

“G-Gah! Hak!”

Suddenly feeling that she couldn’t breathe, she broke into a coughing fit.

I fainted?

At most, she’d been out for ten seconds or so. The situation around her hadn’t changed all that much.

Shax let out a sigh of relief. With that, she finally realized she was in his arms. She unintentionally blushed due to that, but his next words brought her back to her senses.

“Raphael! Kurosuke is fine. Looks like her swords’ power protected her.”

Kuroka looked down at her own chest, where she saw a swarm of rainbow-colored butterflies fluttering about.

Right. I got stabbed, but...

Even though she was sure the sword had gone right through her heart, Kuroka was still alive. Moonless Sky had apparently protected her. Still, she hadn’t gotten away unscathed. A sharp pain still ran through her body.

Shax’s eyes were directed at the battle between Raphael and Andrealphus. Raphael swung his flame-wreathed Sacred Sword, but Andrealphus caught the blow easily enough. The ground at their feet caved in, but this didn’t agitate the Archdemon whatsoever as he took a swing of his own. The Angelic Knights around them were trying to provide Raphael support, but none were capable of getting close, let alone forcing their way into the battle.

“Take Kuroka and get the hell away from here!” Raphael yelled. “I’m the only one who can serve as his opponent!”

With Raphael’s swordsmanship and the flames of purification that obstructed sorcery, he just barely stood on equal ground against Andrealphus. Even Ginias and the two Juutilainens wouldn’t be able to pose a threat to the Archdemon.

Father...!

Kuroka gripped her shortswords and tried to get up, but Shax strengthened his grip on her shoulders to halt her movement.

“Well...I figured you wouldn’t run away,” he said with a feeble smile, sounding more understanding than resigned. “You got this, Kurosuke?”

“Yes!”

After answering him, she suddenly realized what had happened earlier and started darting her eyes about.

“Umm, but it hurts a little, so I’d like...um, some cheering up,” she whispered so that Raphael wouldn’t hear her.

“Huh?”

“You...called me by my name earlier, right?”

Shax’s face turned noticeably red, which was actually enough to cheer Kuroka up on its own. Shax’s mouth flapped open and shut while he oscillated between blushing and turning pale, but after a short while, he gave in and brought his mouth close to Kuroka’s human ear.

“I’ll do something about that geezer’s sorcery, so go wild to your heart’s content, Kuroka.”

“R-Right!”

Her heart thumped like a hammer had been taken to it, while her head was suddenly clear as could be.

As I am now, I can even defeat an Archdemon!

In the next instant, Kuroka lunged straight at Andrealphus.

“Kuroka?!” Raphael yelled.

The sword in her right hand was aimed at Andrealphus’s sword, while her left swung in an arc from his legs up to his head. Andrealphus twisted his body to dodge, but a spurt of blood spilled from his cheek. Now that his balance was broken, Shax came in next. His fist was layered in magic circles and cleanly struck Andrealphus’s wide-open flank. The Archdemon’s armor shattered with a dull crack. Unable to endure the blow, he tumbled across the ground and gained some distance from the trio.

“Kurosuke and I will take him. You go help the little lady. If Foll goes down, we’ve got no shot of winning.”

“Shax, you bastard...” Raphael muttered, both in anger and bewilderment.

“I’ll protect Kuroka!” Shax yelled as if steeling himself for what was to come. “I’ll definitely protect her! No matter what happens! She’s the one person I’ll never let die!”

Kuroka could feel the blood rushing to her face. Raphael’s eyes shot open, but then he let out a short sigh.

“Very well... I’ll leave her to you,” he said. Then, he turned to Kuroka and added, “Don’t die, Kuroka.”

“It’ll be fine. As I am now, I won’t lose to anyone.”

“Hmph, is that so?”

With that, Kuroka returned her gaze to Andrealphus. It appeared his Anointed Armor was no longer functioning, but such equipment was pretty much decorative when worn by an Archdemon. She couldn’t compete with him in terms of brute strength.

In that case, I’ll have to rely on my speed!

Andrealphus charged in with a thrust, the tip of his blade aimed precisely at Kuroka’s heart.

“Is that all?!”

Kuroka dodged by a paper-thin margin and swung both her swords. However, given his skill, it was hard to make up for her shorter reach. The tips of her blades carved through his armor, but she was one step short of reaching his flesh. Rainbow-colored butterflies then danced about as if to protect her.

“Moonless Sky...?”

She’d seen this phenomenon before when crossing blades with Asura and Bato the other day. And now, Kuroka felt like she knew how to use this properly.

Andrealphus rained down a chain of slashes. His sword rent the air. Even if she got away from its edge, she was sure it would still cut her apart. As such, Kuroka dared to step in toward her enemy. Naturally, this meant that Andrealphus’s blade would cut her clean in two...or, it was supposed to. Kuroka’s bisected body crumbled away into a swarm of butterflies, and she manifested right in front of him. She then immediately swept her sword up toward the sky. Andrealphus threw himself to the ground to get away, but she still managed to carve a deep gash across his jaw.

It’s a little different from teleporting. Feels like my body is shifting to another space.

She could definitely feel that her limbs and swords were there, but it also felt like they were somewhere else entirely. It was like the parts of her that shifted away were being supplemented by butterflies. As such, it became clear that this was a power that swapped out her body with these luminous butterflies. Perhaps Papillon would be a fitting name for it.

With this, I can make up for my reach!

Andrealphus continually delivered fatal blows, but each time, Kuroka used Papillon to nullify them and close in to strike in turn. Still, her opponent was the one lauded as the strongest Archdemon and Archangel, so naturally, he managed to block all her attacks too.

Clad in butterflies, Kuroka stood on equal ground with the strongest. Some of the mindless puppets even stopped fighting and were entranced by the spectacle. Or maybe it was Shere Khan who was watching through their eyes.

Sparks scattered. Butterflies danced. And as the fantastic crossing of blades continued, Andrealphus suddenly changed his approach.

“Aaargh...” he muttered, and glowing mana enveloped his sword. This strike had been the one to sever a dragon’s breath. Kuroka had no choice but to defend herself with Papillon.

No, he’s obviously predicted I’ll do that. He probably has something ready for the moment I use it. In that case, I’ll step in instead!

Kuroka reversed her grip on the sword in her left hand and used her right to intercept the slash. It was impossible for her to actually stop the mana-charged sword like this, of course, but she kicked off the ground and rode the momentum of Andrealphus’s attack to spin like a top and counterattack with her left sword. Andrealphus dodged hastily and brought his sword back to block Kuroka’s follow-up attack.

“Gah!”

The moment he blocked, her other sword struck the exact same spot. That was her Sword Hunter technique. When used from both sides like a scissor, even the most finely crafted blades could be snapped in two.

But it still won’t break...!

She failed to break his sword, but the intense attack sent Andrealphus’s body flying.

“Myaaah!”

Seeing that as a perfect opportunity, Kuroka unleashed a storm of slashes with both her swords. Andrealphus managed to block the first three strikes with his blade, but that was his limit. Even an Archdemon was incapable of defending against Kuroka’s unending barrage without at least having his feet planted on the ground. The fact that he’d even blocked three blows was actually worthy of praise. Blood flew every which way, but Andrealphus wasn’t the only terrifying enemy present.

“Kurosuke, behind you!”

The older Galahad closed in from behind, wielding a sword he’d picked up from another fallen soldier. Kuroka blocked the attack, but that meant one of her swords was no longer on the offense. Using that chance, Andrealphus rolled across the ground and got out of her range. Another voice then resounded in the air.

“Hya haaa ha! You’re strong, yeah? Like, really strong? But I’m the strongest!”

“Ugh! Decarabia!”

When last they’d fought, Kuroka had lost. As she was now, she was confident she could beat him, but taking on these three at the same time was another matter entirely.

“I won’t let you—Angelic Confession Raziel!”

A green gale blew through the area, and a moment later, a massive knight wielding a greatsword rammed Decarabia and pinned him to the ground.

“Owowowowow! The hell’re you?!”

Is he still right of mind...?

The other Nephilims were puppets deprived of their egos, but Decarabia was talking like normal. Well, he was pretty incomprehensible to begin with, so nothing he wailed about made any sense anyway.

“Father!”

The boy who’d been trembling and unable to hold his swords just moments ago now boldly took a swing at the older Galahad.

“I’ll hold things down here! You take care of Lord Diekmeyer!”

“Understood!”

Entrusting her back to the unexpectedly reliable boy, Kuroka charged at Andrealphus. Still, her opponent was an Archdemon...and the Head Archdemon, at that. His sorcery, which rendered all his opponents immobile, had already been completed.

“Void.”

All color vanished. All sound dissipated. A soundless and ashen world spread out with Andrealphus at its core. Even the butterflies protecting Kuroka stopped moving and faded to gray like they were simply a part of some old painting.

Time stopped. No, to be strictly accurate, Andrealphus accelerated to the point where it looked like time had stopped. When she last witnessed this power, Kuroka hadn’t even been cognizant of what was going on, but here and now, she definitely saw it and could tell clearly.

“I’ve been waiting for this—Void.”

She heard Shax muttering behind her.

“I’ve granted you power. I’m telling you this because I believe you can do it.”

Kuroka had no way of knowing that, before the battle, Zagan had told Shax that Andrealphus would probably appear on the battlefield. The power Zagan had granted Shax was exactly what was being employed now. Shax used Void, the very symbol of this Archdemon’s power. And he wasn’t just using it, he’d seen through it in the tiniest of instants so that Kuroka could move in this world. This man had also reached the realm of Archdemons.

“Hold nothing back and get him good!”

Urged on by Shax’s voice, Kuroka charged at the Archdemon once more. Andrealphus tore off his Anointed Armor. Kuroka lowered her body all the way to the ground and stepped in in a single stride.

Andrealphus’s blade came straight down. Kuroka intercepted it, stopping the blow and even pushing it back. That simple collision split the earth and sent electric bolts of mana running through the air.

Speed was strength. And here, Kuroka’s sword was even faster than Andrealphus’s. Facing someone even faster than he was inside this world had to be a first, even for him.

But I can’t let this continue for too long!

As they clashed at a speed so fast it looked like time had stopped, the shock waves wreaked havoc on their surroundings. Once this space came undone, Angelic Knights and enemy soldiers alike would get caught in the blast.

Kuroka suddenly plopped to the ground and kicked Andrealphus’s feet out from under him. Having been caught off guard by that, Andrealphus lost his balance. Using her momentum, Kuroka twisted her upper body and struck with her shortswords. She aimed for Andrealphus’s sword-wielding wrist. He saw through this, however, and held up his left arm. Thus, she sliced his left hand with a crunch, sending torn fingers flying through the air.

He sacrificed his hand?!

Andrealphus then used his fingerless hand to grasp one of Kuroka’s swords, halting her movements entirely. His sword-wielding hand was still fine. At this range, she wouldn’t be able to evade even if she let go of her sword, and Papillon couldn’t be activated in this world.

Andrealphus swung with all his might. She tried to stop the blow with her remaining sword, but couldn’t withstand the force and dropped it. Blood spurted into the air. His sword had cleaved her from her chest to her waist.

Not yet!

Her clothes had been blessed by an Archdemon and a high elf. Even after being cut up in such a brutal manner, Kuroka still had the strength to move. She pulled her shortsword free of Andrealphus’s grasp with brute force, mustering the last of her strength for one final slash.

Andrealphus’s sword arm fluttered into the air, severed from the elbow down. With that, Void came undone. Color returned to the world and intense pain ran through Kuroka’s body.

“Gah...”

She vomited blood. Her knees went weak. She couldn’t stand. The burden of entering that world mercilessly assaulted Kuroka’s body, paying no heed to her injured state. But even so, Andrealphus remained on his feet. He raised his fingerless hand overhead, bringing it down on Kuroka.

I can’t get away!

And the moment her body froze at that thought...

“I won’t let you touch Kuroka!”

...Shax’s magic-circle-covered fist dug into the Archdemon’s jaw. Andrealphus tumbled violently across the ground, bowling over soldiers as he went. When the dust settled, he remained on his feet atop a mound of corpses.

“He’s still standing...?”

Kuroka was down for the count. And having used the Archdemon’s Fist, Shax’s arm was a total mess. Shax had placed himself in front of Kuroka, resolving himself for certain death, when Andrealphus’s massive body started swaying.

“Gah... Gah...”

Andrealphus’s eyes peeled back, and he collapsed face-first onto the ground. This time, the terrifying Archdemon stopped moving entirely. Still, left with no time to bask in their victory, Shax cradled Kuroka in his arms.

“Kurosuke! Show me your wound!”

Now that he mentioned it, she remembered being cut. However...

“Huh?”

The wound was unexpectedly shallow. Her clothes had been torn apart completely, but the cut across her skin wasn’t all that deep. She’d actually suffered more damage from the burden of being inside Void than anything else. Kuroka then shifted her gaze to the ceremonial sword Andrealphus had dropped.

The blade had snapped halfway down, and what remained of its edge was covered in nicks, reducing it to nothing more than a metal stick. During their vicious crossing of blades, Moonless Sky had apparently ravished the elf-blessed sword.

“Ha ha... Dammit, Boss, how much defense did you pack into this thing?” Shax muttered, sinking to the floor weakly.

Nephy had bestowed her clothes with the power of Anointed Armor, and Zagan had woven his defensive sorcery into it as well. Relieved by that fact, Shax’s face suddenly turned red. He then took off his coat in a panic and placed it atop Kuroka’s shoulders. One beat later, she figured out exactly why he did that. The fact that he could see her wound clearly meant that he could see her skin.

“I-I-I-I-I-It’s okay! The wound is shallow...and nobody’s looking!”

“I-I-I-I-I know! I know! So don’t say it aloud!”

The two who’d brought the strongest Archdemon to his knees were blushing and huddled in the middle of the battlefield. Neither of them noticed the Sigil of the Archdemon floating away from Andrealphus’s right hand behind them, nor did they notice that Kuroka’s eyes had turned silver during her battle with Andrealphus.

◇

Around the time one battle was coming to an end, Ginias stood with his sword at the ready, facing his own family.

“Father...”

By the time Ginias was aware of his surroundings, his father hadn’t been home. The man was always swamped with work, so he’d return only once every year or so. Ginias’s father was the great man who’d served as the Head Archangel and had bestowed his own name to his son. The only image of him that Ginias really knew was his silent back as he led the Angelic Knights. Thinking back on it, he could easily count how many times they’d spoken. Nevertheless, on his birthdays—even if they didn’t meet—he’d always received a present from his father. Whenever he wrote to his father, he’d always receive a reply, even if it had taken some time. Yes, letters. That had been Ginias’s primary form of communication with his father.

In those letters, his father wasn’t the great Head Archangel; he was just a commonplace, gentle, and somewhat silly man. He had often complained about having unreasonable demands pushed on him by his superior—probably the pope at the time—which prevented him from enjoying his favorite liquors.

Anytime Ginias would succeed at something new, his father had praised him to the moon. Anytime Ginias opened up about his troubles, his father had cheered him up with awkward words—likely after spending much time pondering over what to write. They’d rarely seen each other, but Ginias truly felt loved.

The last letter he’d gotten was one filled with frivolous everyday chatter. His father had written that after his current mission was over, he’d be able to take some time off, so the two could have dinner together. At the end of the letter, he’d finished with an “I love you dearly,” as he always had.

Ginias crossed blades with the old Galahad. He could just barely put up a fight after wreathing his sword in Raziel’s wind. If his father was also wielding a Sacred Sword, this wouldn’t even have been a match. Nevertheless...

“Father. I’ve come this far. I now wield the same sword you once did. I reached the same status as you. I...I can finally stand alongside you!”

He wanted his father to look at him. He didn’t want to be looked at through those hollow, manipulated eyes. He wanted his father to see him properly.

“Ghhh! Shut your noisy trap already!”

Decarabia freed himself from Ginias’s Confession and charged in from the side.

“Back off! This is a battle between father and son!”

Ginias turned and slammed his fist into Decarabia’s face. He was somehow taking on the former Head Archangel and a former Archdemon candidate at the same time, making it clear that Ginias wasn’t first among the Archangels’ rankings due to his heritage.

“Oooooow! That hurt, dammit!”

However, Decarabia was a sorcerer who’d even injured Zagan’s hand. Despite his cheekbone caving in, he regenerated in an instant and charged at Ginias again without pause.

“Come back, Raziel!”

Ginias called his Confession, but was, unfortunately, a step too late. Decarabia’s fist closed in on Ginias’s wide-open back.

“Sorry. Looks like I overslept a bit.”

Someone’s hand caught his fist with absolute ease. She had the same scarlet hair and left eye as Chastille, but her right eye was silver and artificial. She’d caught Decarabia’s fist with her right hand and wielded a Sacred Sword in her left. She wasn’t wearing any Anointed Armor and was instead clad in torn ceremonial clothes that revealed the bandages wrapping her body beneath them. It was as if she’d flown out of a hospital.

“Stella!”

Ginias unintentionally raised his voice in delight, but he noticed that a look of bewilderment dominated Stella’s face.

“Big bro...?”

“Huh?”

Bro? She has a brother?

If he was among the Nephilims, that meant he was already dead. Stella stabbed her Sacred Sword into the ground and held up her bangs, revealing her silver eye.

“No, you’re not. He’s in here...so what’s this?” she wondered. She then took a look around her and said, “These guys are... Oh, that’s what’s going on. That’s pretty cruel...”

There was pity and lament in her eyes, an expression of sorrow that Ginias had never seen from her before.

“Ginias. You take care of that one. I have to fight this one.”

“Please leave it to me.”

Stella’s languid smile sent pain shooting through Ginias’s chest. After she turned to face her enemy once more, Decarabia flashed her an insane smile.

“A woman! Hey, you strong? You super strong? In that case, I’ll be the strongest if I beat you!”

Decarabia unleashed a vicious high kick as his fist remained in her grip, but Stella didn’t dodge. She took a direct hit to her temple, which made blood spurt from her brow.

“It’s okay... You don’t have to be the strongest. You’re more than strong enough. You protected me properly.”

“I don’t get what you’re spoutin’!”

Decarabia kicked and punched and kicked and punched, but Stella showed no sign whatsoever of trying to defend herself.

“You’ve done enough already,” she said, pulling out her Sacred Sword from the ground and thrusting it into Decarabia. “You can rest in peace. There’s nobody out here that you have to fight anymore.”

Decarabia stared at the Sacred Sword in his stomach curiously as Stella suddenly hugged him.

“Huh...? That’s weird. Did I wanna be the strongest...? Oh, right. My little sis. I’ve got a little sis. I wanted to get stronger. I wanted her to eat nice food, wear fancy clothes, and live a good...”

Stella held Decarabia in her arms until he finally perished. The expression on his face was far too peaceful for the last moments of a madman. And as Stella brought things to an end, Ginias exchanged blows with his father.

Stella is going through such a painful battle! I can’t afford to put on a shameful show!

Ginias kicked off the ground and put all his might into a downward slash. The old Galahad caught the blow and angled his blade to the ground. As a result, Ginias’s sword slipped down its edge. Using that opening, the old Galahad retaliated with a sharp sweeping slash. It was as if the attack was identifying the flaw in Ginias’s overly serious personality.

“How do I put this? Ginias, your sword is just way too honest. That’s why it’s easy to counter you.”

He’d had that pointed out to him many times already. Ginias pulled back his sword and blocked with his hilt.

“Aha! Pretty good. That’s right, you can use your hilt to block, huh?”

After being told that, Ginias had had his hair ruffled roughly. Having struck the solid lump of iron that was Ginias’s hilt, the old Galahad leaped back with a groan.

“Aaah, no, no, no. Don’t give chase just ’cause your opponent stepped back. They could be luring you in.”

Ginias held his ground and recalled his Confession. Seizing that chance, the old Galahad threw a knife at him. It was a wily trick one wouldn’t expect from the symbol of righteousness that was an Archangel. Still, this attack was one that reproached Ginias, telling him that a fight wasn’t just about locking swords head-on. Ginias calmly repelled the knife and sent his Confession forth. The enormous green greatsword mercilessly drove down toward the old Galahad.

“Confession is strong and convenient, huh? But don’t put all your trust in it. People like Zagan could dodge it easily.”

His opponent was the preceding Head Archangel, which meant he’d most likely wielded a Confession of his own. In that case, he was already familiar with its weaknesses. And just as expected, the old Galahad evaded the Confession’s strike with ease and thrust out his sword.

Ginias met the thrust with his blade. A loud clang echoed, and a broken swordpoint twirled in the air. Sacred Sword Raziel found itself firmly planted inside the old Galahad, having dug its way from his shoulder down to his heart.

“Father...”

“Aaah... How splendid. You’ve truly...grown strong...”

The father touched his son’s cheek with a blood-soaked hand.

“Father! Your mind!”

“You fool. Who cries like that in the middle of a battlefield?”

Ginias gritted his teeth, stopping the tears from spilling from his eyes.

“That’s much better,” the old Galahad said. “The one before you now isn’t your father. He’s your enemy. You fulfilled your duty splendidly and defeated your enemy. Puff your chest out with pride.”

With that, his father smiled at him one last time. After laying him down on the ground, something soft suddenly wrapped around him.

“Didn’t I tell you before? You don’t have to act that well-behaved.”

It was Stella. Once he’d been enveloped by her large breasts, everything he’d tried to hold back slowly leaked out.

“That man...was my father...”

“Mhm.”

The moment Stella had shown up, Ginias’s head had cleared up to a surprising extent. And then she’d entrusted this fight to him. He’d managed because he’d wanted to live up to her expectations. And yet, when she acted so kind to him, he couldn’t hold back his tears anymore.

“I wanted...to speak with him more... I wanted him...to praise me more... Waaaaaah!”

“Mhm... You did good, Ginias.”

Ginias could do nothing but cling to Stella and cry as he dropped his Sacred Sword.

◇

As the Angelic Knights’ battle neared its conclusion, Foll was fighting a battle of her own. The light of destruction built up once more inside the zombie dragon’s mouth.

“I won’t let you use that again!”

Furcas’s Seraph Hunter erased the light before the zombie dragon could unleash it. Even if the power of a dragon’s breath was immense, it could be stopped in its preparatory phases. The one who’d given them such information was the slit-eyed man running around beneath them.

“Please keep him from firing again! Boy, keep your distance and prepare for the next salvo!”

Foll spread out her wings and glided out in front of Raphael. She then took in a short breath as Raphael supported her back and held out his artificial arm. Immediately following that, two intense lights shot out. Foll’s and Orobas’s breaths mixed, surpassing mere incandescence and turning into plasma. However, when the light faded, the zombie dragon still stood there, appearing completely composed.

“He blocked it with sorcery!” Bato yelled.

Despite the fact that he’d been reduced to mere living dead, it was still possible for him to exercise his tremendous mana and wield sorcery. Not only that, but he could completely block the two instances of dragon breath. Dragons had tremendous resistance to all things magical, which was likely the reason Bato had Furcas stay back and focus entirely on obstructing the zombie dragon’s breath.

“Ranged attacks won’t work,” Bato said.

“Then we must strike it up close!” Raphael shouted.

There weren’t more than five people in the entire world who could surpass Raphael in close-quarter combat.

But Raphael won’t be able to reach him on his own.

Even though it’d been reduced to a zombie, this was still the world’s greatest dragon. Even an Archdemon couldn’t defeat such a being alone.

“Close combat, you say? I’ll help.”

A familiar voice resounded in the sky. Foll looked up and spotted a girl with both her arms restrained by her clothes.

“Levia?”

She was one of Zagan’s subordinates. Foll had spoken with her several times on the occasions she’d gone to Archdemon Palace to play with Alshiera. She was a siren just like Selphy, so she’d left quite the impression on her.

“Levia. You’ve got three minutes.”

“I know.”

Two people fell from the sky. One was Levia, while the other was a man with leather straps covering his face. If Foll remembered right, this was Behemoth. He suddenly put a key in the lock at Levia’s chest and undid her restraints.

“Graaaaaah!”

Levia shrieked as her body transformed into something surreal. She turned into a dragon with the long body of a snake. Much like how Behemoth transformed into a grotesque beast at night, Levia transformed into this form during the day.

“That’s a sea dragon?” Foll muttered.

The sea dragon snapped at the zombie dragon’s throat, slamming into the ground at the same time. The zombie dragon tumbled without hesitation, using his claws and tail to put up fierce resistance. However, the sea dragon wrapped around his enormous body, constricting down on him. The sound of something creaking and breaking could be heard, but this zombie dragon could wield sorcery.

“This isn’t good! Get back!” Bato yelled.

However, the sea dragon kept her hold. It wasn’t that she wasn’t paying attention to him or anything. She simply seemed to have lost all control of herself.

“Levia! Time’s up! Come back!”

These two lost their egos and turned into monsters when held by their curse. Levia’s limit for fighting while keeping her sanity was apparently three minutes. Behemoth ran toward her, but he was one step too late. The zombie dragon let out a deep groan as lightning burst from his body.

“Gah!”

Smoke billowed from the sea dragon’s entire body as she crumpled to the ground.

“Levia!”

Chains and straps wrapped around the sea dragon’s entire body. Her body shrunk rapidly, and in a few seconds, she was back to the Levia that Foll knew all too well.

“Sorry... That was the best I could do.”

“It’s okay. You did good.”

After giving Levia her thanks, Foll shot into the air right above the zombie dragon.

“Good grief... Don’t be so reckless,” Behemoth said to Levia.

“But...I wanted to help her...”

“Well, I get why.”

Levia withdrew from the battle in Behemoth’s arms. The sea dragon’s self-sacrificing attack hadn’t been in vain. The zombie dragon staggered to his feet and flapped his wings hard.

“My lady! He’s trying to take to the skies!”

“I know!”

If long-range attacks were ineffective, then allowing the zombie dragon to just fly away would spell doom for them. Foll swooped down and tore apart his wings with the black dragon’s claws. She ripped holes big enough to reveal bone, rendering the wings incapable of catching the wind.

However, dragons didn’t actually use their wings to fly in the traditional sense. It was a different matter for a youngling, but a dragon’s wings were simply too small to keep them afloat. So, how did a dragon soar through the skies? They did so by creating a torrent of mana with their wings and riding the flow of mana rather than the wind. Having lost a wing, the zombie dragon couldn’t lift off the ground. Not only that, but it lost control, sending mana rampaging in the air and throwing it off balance. However...

“He jumped?!”

With his rotten limbs, which were firmly planted on the ground, the zombie dragon rode the chaotic mana and leaped into the air. If this giant were to land, he would bring about unimaginable destruction. Even avoiding a direct hit wouldn’t help one escape from the shock wave and billowing earth that would follow. Even a Sacred Sword or Seraph Hunter wouldn’t be enough to slow such momentum. As such, Foll swooped down into the zombie dragon’s direct path.

“Run! Foll!” Raphael roared.

“No,” Foll said with a firm shake of her head. “If I don’t stop him, everyone will die. Heaven’s Scale!”

She held up both her hands and immediately invoked sorcery. It wasn’t Snowfield, since Snowfield wouldn’t be able to bring such mass to a stop. This was Heaven’s Scale in its original form. It had no defined shape. It was simply a sturdy shield.

“Zagan’s sorcery?” Furcas said, his eyes opening wide.

“But that won’t be enough!” Raphael yelled.

The zombie dragon crashed into Heaven’s Scale. The shield absorbed his mana, strengthening in a flash, but cracks quickly formed over its surface. It was unable to withstand the impact. However, Foll knew this would happen.

“Heaven’s Scale Threefold!”

Three layers of the invincible shield overlapped. The first shattered, scattering its mana, which was then subsequently absorbed by the second and third layer, strengthening them past their initial limits.

“Can it hold...?” Raphael muttered.

The second shield shattered. Only the third was left, but this one was strengthened by the mana from the previous two. The massive dragon’s descent seemed to halt, but he wasn’t simply waiting to reach the ground either.

“Graaah!”

A massive claw, its bones exposed through rotting flesh, slammed into Heaven’s Scale. The shield had already been at its limits, so cracks now covered its entire surface.

“Foll! That’s enough! We’ve escaped!”

Raphael and the others had managed to retreat.

But I won’t make it in time.

Even if she somehow escaped the impact zone, the zombie dragon would chase her. Foll had no means of getting away anymore. As such...

“No! Meet it head-on, my lady!”

Yes. She had no choice but to meet her enemy head-on. A second blow shattered the last shield. By that time, Foll had clenched her fist tightly and thrust it forth. This wasn’t Black Dragon Marbas’s claw. It was her own fist—one taught to her by Zagan.

Even as a young dragon, perhaps it would’ve been possible for her to get away by returning to her original form. Regardless, Foll chose to remain in her human one.

This is who I am now!

Her tiny fist collided with the zombie dragon’s claw.

“Graargh!”

The impact blew the zombie dragon’s massive body into the air once more. Foll flapped her wings and flew above it. She then linked her hands together and put all her strength into striking his back, sending him crashing down into the ground and obliterating the open plain. The dead had no sense of pain, however, so he quickly got back up and charged light in his mouth.

“I won’t let you!”

Furcas’s Seraph Hunter obstructed the breath attack once more.

“Boy! How many shots left?!”

“Two more!”

Furcas had already fired five times since he’d appeared. The Seraph Hunter possessed outrageous power, but it was limited by how many times it could be used. Thus, he couldn’t afford to waste a single shot.

“GraaaaaAaaaoooOOooOOr!”

The zombie dragon unleashed an ear-shattering roar. It was the chant for some distorted sorcery.

“Ah...”

Foll could see Nimbus—the wide-area annihilation sorcery she had used to suppress an army of eight thousand—from her vantage point in the sky. It spread out in the skies above the battlefield, enshrouded by sinister mana.

“I won’t let you!”

Why had Foll chosen this battlefield? She had, of course, wanted to give Chastille the chance to go save Nephteros, but that hadn’t been a reason to stick around.

This is where the most people could die.

And if people died, Zagan and Nephy would grieve. That was why she’d decided to come here.

“Please! Snowfield!”

Fragments of light danced about the battlefield. Unfortunately, they were far too fleeting to stop the rain of destruction entirely. Nevertheless, the sorcery developed for Foll’s sake spread far and wide to cover the entire area. And so, light poured down. The protective petals resolutely repelled the beams as they came, but it wasn’t enough to block them all.

“Dance! Gabriel!”

“Whirl! Sandalphon!”

A vortex of water and freezing air flew up from the ground. Crashing into each other, they created a block of ice that caught the light that had made it past Foll’s Snowfield. This was the work of the Juutilainen brothers. Foll didn’t know them, but they were Archangels who possessed Sacred Swords. They’d been the ones to grasp the flow of the battle and protect the other Angelic Knights.

The zombie dragon was now immobile, with his sorcery blocked. The first to take advantage of that fact was none other than Raphael.

“Let’s go! Orobas!”

Riding atop a flaming knight, he quickly closed in on the zombie dragon.

“Graaawr!”

Raphael was met by the zombie dragon’s remaining front claw as he held out his artificial arm.

“Burn to ash—Orobas!”

Raphael unleashed a dragon’s breath from his arm. Even if it was technically a long-range attack, he’d fired it at point-blank range, piercing the zombie dragon’s leg. With that, both the dragon’s forelegs were out of commission. Still, he paid no heed to the damage and snapped his massive jaws at the flaming knight. The Confession stabbed its sword into the gaping maw, but failed to stop the fangs from piercing it.

“Raphael!” Foll screamed.

By that time, Raphael was already up in the sky.

He used his Confession as a decoy and jumped?

Flames of purification wreathed around his Sacred Sword.

“Orobaaas!”

He rammed his Sacred Sword into the zombie dragon’s brow. After that, all light vanished from the dragon’s hollow eyes and he stopped moving completely. No blood flowed from the already dead corpse. His enormous body simply slumped over silently, stretching pitifully over the battlefield.

Foll had once believed this old man to be the target of her revenge and had tried to kill him. And here and now, he had definitely killed her father.

“Raphael...”

Nevertheless, she felt no anger. The old man who’d slain his precious friend silently shed tears of sorrow, after all. However...

“Not yet! There’s still something to it!” Bato screamed.

He was right. This was Shere Khan’s ace in the hole for dealing with Alshiera. Sheer size wasn’t enough to hamper that girl. There had to be some other kind of trap. Taking a closer look, they noticed destructive light pouring from the zombie dragon’s body.

“What...is this...?”

“It’s self-destructing! Finish it, quick!” Bato shouted.

Tension ran high through the battlefield. Even if it was now nothing more than a corpse, it was still Wise Dragon Orobas’s body. Despite being reduced to such a horrific state, he possessed mana beyond human comprehension. If that were to run wild and explode, just how much destruction would it cause? This wasn’t just a matter of friend or foe anymore. Kianoides, and perhaps even far more, was about to be reduced to a gaping hole.

“Confession—Metatron!”

Raphael reformed his Confession and slashed at the corpse. It was just too large, though. What’s more, the rampaging mana kept the blade from its mark.

“Tch! In that case, burn to ash—Orobas!”

The dragon’s breath drilled a hole through the body, but didn’t stop the rampaging mana.

“Gah!”

“Raphael!”

Raphael coughed up blood and fell to a knee. Dragon’s blood ate at his body. He’d used far too much of his strength.

“Uoooh!” Furcas yelled as he ran over. The Seraph Hunter shaved away some of the rampaging mana, but that wasn’t enough to reach the zombie dragon’s body. “Just one more...”

If he used his last bullet now, it would just be a waste. These three weren’t the only ones on this battlefield, though.

“Angelic Confession—Raziel!”

“Angelic Confession—Zachariel! With a little Antipode Wave!”

It was Ginias and Stella. Having finished their own battles, they’d formed their Confessions and charged at the zombie dragon. Three Confessions attacked in unison from all sides, but even so, not a single blade reached its mark.

“Even this isn’t enough?!” Raphael yelled.

The three Confessions were definitely slowly carving their way through the wall of mana, but they wouldn’t make it in time. The rampaging mana would reach its critical point far before they could.

Foll spread her wings and took to the skies, swooping back down at the corpse.

“My lady, what are you—?”

“Heaven’s Scale Snowfield.”

Petals of pure light surrounded the zombie dragon. Foll then spread out her arms and quietly quivered her lips.

“Divine Echo.”

The world trembled without a sound. Black Dragon Marbas and Foll’s roar resonated within Snowfield. The shock wave shook everything within its range and crushed the expanding mana, condensing it.

But it’s still not enough!

No matter how much of the outer layer of mana she shaved away, the raging furnace inside the corpse wouldn’t stop. Foll held both her arms forward and clenched her fists tightly as if to crush the very sky.

“Heaven’s Phosphor Starfall.”

This wasn’t Zagan’s Heaven’s Phosphor. It was one Foll had created herself, one only she could use. Zagan had taught her the fundamentals, but that was all. He’d freely given his own subordinates this power in the shape of Kimaris’s Typhoon and Gremory’s golem. He’d given them a blade capable of killing even an Archdemon, yet he’d never taught them the fundamentals. He’d never taught them Heaven’s Scale, the point of origin. That was because it had been Zagan’s starting point. He’d developed everything else by rearranging and adjusting Heaven’s Scale. If anyone else had that knowledge, it would be possible to create Dragon Form, Eastern and Western Sky, or an even greater power without Zagan’s instructions. This did, of course, mean it would also be possible to develop Heaven’s Phosphor. Heaven’s Scale was the very core of the Archdemon’s secrets, after all.

And yet, Zagan granted it to me.

He’d taught her Heaven’s Scale, not Heaven’s Phosphor...and now she understood why. It had been necessary. He’d already given her the secrets to developing Heaven’s Phosphor and even Heaven’s Ring all on her own.

Foll’s roar-amplified Snowfield turned black. She then brought it all down to bear upon the zombie dragon. Heaven’s Phosphor was sorcery that devoured all mana in its surroundings to create an eternal flame. This space was dominated by Foll’s roar and the zombie dragon’s rampaging mana. There was an unlimited supply of nutrition, causing the fleeting black wisps in the air to flare up like meteors and crash down onto the zombie dragon. There was no real way to describe the spectacle other than comparing it to falling stars.

Countless holes tore their way through the corpse. It was already caving in, having lost its shape as a dragon entirely.

Still?! Why’s it still going?!

And yet, the mana kept rampaging. The three Confessions continued hacking and slashing, but it still wasn’t enough.

“It’s no good... Everyone, run away...”

Foll had nothing left up her sleeve. And the instant that thought crossed her mind...

“I’m sorry for being late.”

The sound of countless flapping wings heralded the advent of a swarm of bats.

“Alshiera?”

“Foll. You’ve got it all wrong. This power—the power of destruction—is used like this.”

The vampire appeared in midair and placed her hand atop Foll’s. Starfall’s movements suddenly shifted. Even after piercing through the zombie dragon’s corpse, the meteors didn’t stop. Instead, they converged in one place, right over the heart at the core of all the mana. But if she did that...

“No... Stop. Alshiera. I can’t...suppress this...!”

The converging balls of Heaven’s Phosphor began devouring each other, and each and every one began swelling. Foll knew very well that it would eventually grow to a size that would bring about greater devastation than the zombie dragon’s self-destruction. And yet, Alshiera didn’t stop.

“It’s fine like this. The converging Heaven’s Phosphors will become so dense that they can no longer withstand the pressure, then burst, much like a dying star.”

Foll was scared. She knew now that this power shouldn’t exist. Even Zagan hadn’t reached this stage...or perhaps he had, and simply hadn’t given it shape yet. Regardless, this power was capable of destroying absolutely everything in the truest sense.

“Please don’t be scared. This is the god-killing power I used in my final battle. I’m sure you’ll be able to wield it. I’m sure you’ll be able to use it far better than I ever did.”

Foll looked at Alshiera’s face and noticed that her expression wasn’t one of a terrifying destroyer. The vampire only looked back at her with the affection and trust of a friend, which brought Foll’s trembling to a stop.

I see. Alshiera is entrusting it to me...

The girl didn’t have much time left. What kind of friend would Foll have been if she couldn’t respond to her wish under such circumstances? With that, Foll began controlling Starfall by her own will.

“Everyone, take cover! Get away from here as fast as you can!”

Perhaps Raphael could tell what was going to happen thanks to Orobas’s blood. He practically screamed his orders to the others. Everyone complied and promptly ran away from the zombie dragon. After confirming that, Foll looked at Alshiera, then gave her a slight nod.

“Heaven’s Phosphor Starburst,” the two said in concert.

A black light erupted, but there was no ferocity to it like Foll had feared. The color of nothingness, the void simply stretched out to the heavens and quietly vanished, leaving absolutely nothing in its wake. The enormous zombie dragon, the land covered in greenery, and even the atmosphere had all disappeared.

“Gah!”

Then the wind blew. It felt like a blast against Foll’s back.

No, this is actually the wind being sucked into the center of the explosion.

As the one who had invoked Starburst, she understood. The entire world had vanished there. That was why everything in its surroundings was trying to fill the gap.

This is the power Alshiera originally possessed...

When Alshiera had fought back in Atlastia, she’d used a power similar to Heaven’s Phosphor, or perhaps one even greater than it. She hadn’t even had her Seraph Hunters on hand, since she’d lost that power precisely because she’d tried to protect Foll.

Foll remained in a daze at the tremendous spectacle before her as Alshiera wrapped her arms around the little dragon’s shoulders.

“Foll... Let’s see him off.”

“Huh...?”

A single light remained at the center of the blast site. It was neither human nor dragon, nothing more than a small glowing sphere. Even its contour was vague, so fleeting that it seemed the wind could blow it away. And yet, Foll could tell exactly what it was.

“Fa...ther...”

His body had been annihilated. Not even his mana was supposed to be left. But what remained here was the final fragment of the great dragon, a tiny ball weighing a scant twenty-one grams. Supported by Alshiera, Foll gently descended toward it and touched the light.

“So warm...”

She could feel a gentle warmth pour into her. Foll’s father loved her just like Zagan and Nephy did. Being able to confirm that once more, the girl managed to answer him with a smile.

“I really loved you too. Bye-bye, father.”

The light flickered against her chest as if smiling, then faded away.

“Goodbye,” Alshiera said, still holding Foll in her arms as she saw off the light with a fleeting smile.

◇

As the battles between departed fathers and their children came to an end, another fight involving a father and child who should never have met raged on.

“Amii, Ose, Caym, Vine, Ronove.”

The silver-eyed boy swung his sword as he called the Archdemons’ names. There shouldn’t have been a big difference in swordsmanship between them, yet the five Archdemons were being overwhelmed.

Or not... I suppose this is his original strength.

Even if they had their memories from life, puppets weren’t capable of drawing all the power they’d once had. However, those known as heroes were troublesome types who calmly wielded more power than they actually possessed. The trigger for this was in the heart. To put it plainly, the last key for a hero, the very thing that made them a true paragon was...guts.

Five Archdemons were understandably enough to keep the silver-eyed boy occupied, so the sixth rushed in with a sword at the ready.

“Your movements are far too obvious, fool.”

Zagan planted his fist into the side of the Archdemon’s face, sending their Hex Blade flying. The silver-eyed boy caught it with his free hand.

“I’ll be borrowing this, Stolas.”

Now armed with a second Hex Blade, the silver-eyed boy struck his own sword, which had been locked in place by the other Archdemons. This blew them away, opening a path. His style really did resemble Kuroka’s.

“Western Sky, Eastern Sky.”

With his enormous gauntlets made of Heaven’s Scale at the ready, Zagan ran through the opening. He crushed the Archdemons charging at him with Eastern Sky’s palm, then warded off the next with Western Sky. It didn’t matter whether they tried to block with their Hex Blades or not. The Archdemons struck by Heaven’s Scale ceased moving.

“Foras, Berith...and Aym.”

The silver-eyed boy bisected the third Archdemon leaping at Zagan’s back.

“Bune, Ipos.”

Upon defeating one, two more attacked the silver-eyed boy. Their sword strikes were sharp and heavy. It took the silver-eyed boy everything he had just to stop them with both his Hex Blades. However, that also exposed their backs to Zagan.

“Out of the way.”

Zagan swung Eastern Sky, slamming the two defenseless Archdemons into the wall. Since they possessed the same silver eyes, the two of them could read each other’s movements with ease. They’d just met, but this father and child duo understood each other like comrades who’d fought by each other’s sides for a lifetime. Now, there was only one left.

“Marchosias!”

The silver-eyed boy charged straight at Marchosias. His opponent was Eldest—the man who’d reigned atop all Archdemons for a thousand years straight. He warded off the silver-eyed boy’s two swords and counterattacked with swordsmanship to match.

But with the two of us together...

Zagan closed in with Eastern and Western Sky, along with both his own fists. And yet, somehow, Marchosias warded off Eastern Sky and turned it back on Zagan. Luckily, Zagan blocked it with Western Sky in time.

“You think I’ll keep getting caught by that?!”

Marchosias didn’t have enough hands to handle more than Eastern Sky and the silver-eyed boy’s two swords at once. Zagan’s fists caught the old man on the jaw, then the torso, and then the face. He rained down blows on him like bullets.

“This is no time to be looking elsewhere.”

With Marchosias’s focus forced onto Zagan’s fists, the silver-eyed boy’s two swords closed in, and Marchosias was no longer able to stop them.

“Gah...! Hgggh!”

Zagan didn’t care if he was facing the greatest Archdemon to ever live. Nobody in history could possibly fight against two Silver-Eyed Kings at once. The silver-eyed boy pushed back Marchosias’s Hex Blade, finally creating a definitive opening. Finding his torso wide-open, Zagan drove in Eastern Sky.

I’ll end this here and now!

Zagan was about to take chase, but suddenly, the silver-eyed boy’s sword barred his path.

“No, keep moving! This isn’t your battlefield!”

“What are you...?”

Zagan turned around as the other Archdemons rose back to their feet. Some of them were actually down for the count, but more than half remained intact. Marchosias had been brought to a knee, but he was already upright again with his Hex Blade firmly in hand.

Even with two Silver-Eyed Kings present, defeating all of them would take more than a single minute. As such, the silver-eyed boy planned to take them all on alone.

“You can tell, can’t you? We were granted the same body, powers, and memories that we originally possessed, but that’s all. We’re...different from the originals.”

Zagan couldn’t respond. It was a question based on the notion of the soul. In the end, if one created a person with the exact same body and memories of the dead, would they truly be the same person?

If a person’s thoughts were composed of their memories, then the answer was yes. If one replaced the original and had them live the same life, they could surely continue their life without anyone around them feeling something out of place. Not even the original would’ve been able to tell the difference.

However, that was only if the person in question didn’t know. Once they knew the truth, the fabricated duplicate would resent the original. They wouldn’t be able to accept the truth of their existence.

Consider a case where the original was still alive. Even if the two shared the same memories, it didn’t mean they shared the same thoughts. And so, neither could recognize the other as themselves.

At the very least, the silver-eyed boy didn’t recognize himself as himself. Perhaps this was the reason Shere Khan had slaughtered blameless civilians despite claiming he wanted to save the world. If the originals still lived, the Nephilims would become a problem.

So he already understands...

In all likelihood, he’d felt something out of place during the battle and had ended up realizing it. Both he and Zagan could see the entire flow of mana, after all.

“Things are fine now,” the silver-eyed boy continued as he crossed swords with Marchosias. “But as time passes, we’ll slowly deviate from our original state. Since we possess false memories, we can’t amount to anything. So...this is enough.”

Zagan didn’t have the knowledge necessary to properly respond to that theory. So instead of answering, he pulled his pipe out from his breast pocket. He then brazenly lit it in the middle of the battlefield and inhaled deeply as if etching the taste of burning tobacco into his mind.

“This is...the first time I’ve felt so assured when leaving my back to someone in battle.”

Having someone understand how he would move, and being able to understand in kind was truly euphoric. It wasn’t something acquired through constant fisticuffs like with Barbatos. They hadn’t spoken, and they shouldn’t have known anything about each other. And yet, they just knew instinctively. It had been so pleasant it could be called serene. Just maybe, that was what it meant to be father and child. As such, Zagan was able to make a clear declaration.

“No matter who you actually are, I can accept you as a friend.”

The silver-eyed boy looked shocked, and then he gave Zagan an innocent smile befitting his appearance.

“A friend... Yeah. That sounds nice. Until we meet again, my friend... And one more thing. If possible, please take care of her. My original... No, I ended up pushing all my hardships on her.”

Zagan wasn’t so ignorant as to not know whom he was talking about.

It’s hard to accept, though...

Still, there had been plenty of clues hinting at that fact already. He probably only hadn’t realized sooner because he hadn’t wanted to accept it.

“Hmph...” Zagan sighed with a puff of smoke. “Don’t worry about such frivolous things.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

With that, Zagan turned his back to him.

“Archdemon Zagan! This way!” Dexia yelled from a hallway. She’d been staring at the battle with bated breath this entire time. “Hurry! It’s starting to collapse!”

The battle between Zagan and the thirteen first-generation Archdemons—as well as the battle between the silver-eyed boy and the remaining Archdemons—had caused the tunnels to cave in. Nevertheless, Zagan didn’t pick up the pace. He simply walked as if he was reluctant to part with the man who could very well have been his father, or perhaps as if he wanted to see the last moments of the first man he’d called his friend.

Even if you are a fake, the hand you placed on my hand was warm.

And as Zagan stepped into the tunnel where Dexia waited for him, the path behind him caved in completely.

◇

“Master Shere Khan...” Dexia called his name with trembling lips.

At the end of the gloomy tunnel, Shere Khan waited for them in an open space that had likely once been rich with minerals. He was seated with a stone pillar behind him, which was apparently some kind of device for sorcery, where the figure of a petrified Gremory could be seen.

“Should I say ‘long time no see’? You’re Shere Khan, right?”

“Indeed. I am...Shere Khan,” he replied, slowly turning toward Zagan as his wheelchair creaked. He then shifted his gaze. “You may...return to me, Dexia.”

“Eep...”

His mana-charged words blew toward Dexia. A crack echoed in the air as the mana flew back at him. Zagan had repelled it with his fist before it reached her.

“Don’t go trying that repulsive crap. She came here of her own free will to stand against you. I won’t allow you to trample over those feelings.”

Much like the other Nephilims, Dexia had obviously been implanted with the means to force her obedience. Zagan had known this from the very first moment he saw her. That was why the first thing he’d done after declaring he would protect her was to prepare a way to defend her from such domination.

“It won’t stop him if you’re already being manipulated, but it’ll block any new order he tries to convey.”

That was what he’d told her. It would be too difficult to intervene with existing orders, so it was impossible to devour sorcery to get rid of the order forcing the Nephilims to fight as well. Even Alshiera hadn’t been able to do anything until an uninterrupted opportunity had presented itself. Still, being able to prevent any new orders was more than enough. The equipment he’d given Dexia was armed with a barrier to reject Shere Khan’s mana, even.

“How...unfortunate,” Shere Khan said with a sigh. “She’s actually...my precious...subordinate.”

“Then...” Dexia started with a murmur. “Then why did you do that to Aristella?! Aristella said that she didn’t want to die! She cried because she hated the idea of being used like a tool! So why?!”

“I can just...remake her later. Relax,” Shere Khan answered as if that fact were obvious.

As always, the difference in common sense between Archdemons and others was far too large.

“Master Shere Khan, don’t you know?” Dexia said, sinking weakly to the ground. “There’s no replacement for the current us... Even if you make the same thing again, you won’t save Aristella and me.”

The same could be said for those who’d already been remade. The Silver-Eyed King also didn’t accept his current self as his old self. So really, this wasn’t salvation for them either.

“Well done. Your voice came out splendidly,” Zagan said, plopping his hand onto Dexia’s head. He then stepped in front of her and took a provocative puff of his pipe, and for some reason, Shere Khan narrowed his eyes nostalgically. Zagan couldn’t read the meaning behind that reaction as he quietly addressed the Archdemon.

“You’re twisted.”

“I never thought...I’d hear that...from an Archdemon,” Shere Khan said with a shrug.

“You’re twisted...but you’re right,” Zagan added. Dexia immediately doubted her ears, but he ignored her and continued. “I don’t know what you lost. But if it was someone near and dear to your heart, and there was a way to maybe bring them back, then it has to be attempted. That’s what it means to be human. In fact, I’m certain I would do the same.”

If he ever lost Nephy or Foll, Zagan might mimic Shere Khan’s actions. No, he definitely would. He was convinced of that, so even if the man before him was twisted beyond all hope, he couldn’t deny his logic. That was why Zagan continued to speak to him in a regretful tone.

“If we hadn’t met like this, I would’ve liked to talk about correcting your methods over a drink or something.”

He would’ve gone over the problems with the current method and helped search for an improved alternative. He could’ve even improved the quality of the Nephilims. By establishing such a method, would he have been filled with a sense of accomplishment? Or maybe a sense of hollowness?

Setting aside whether he would try to actualize it or not, there weren’t many theories that tickled Zagan’s inquisitiveness as a sorcerer more than this. He was sure he’d have lost himself in such research.

“I see...” Shere Khan said with a look of shock on his face. “Kimaris told me...that you...understand me.”

“That’s right. Today’s been a day of meeting people who could’ve been my friends,” he mused. Though, it was also a day filled with painful partings. “You’re right, but unfortunately, I’ll have to trample over your dreams and live up to my name as a king.”

That was why he couldn’t possibly leave Shere Khan at large.

“The suffering of my subordinates must be repaid in kind. It truly is unfortunate.”

“I also...find it...regrettable. You could...have been...my foremost friend.”

With those words as a signal, figures began appearing from the surrounding shadows.

“The power you used...to get past...the first Archdemons...was splendid. The ones here...are the Archdemons...from the second generation...onward...”

There were more than fifty of them around Zagan and Dexia.

“A-Archdemon Zagan...” Dexia said, trembling at Zagan’s side.

“Do not...fear. You will be...remade too...along with...my friend...”

Zagan cocked his head upon hearing them, as if he didn’t understand.

“What are you saying? I have no intention of becoming a Nephilim or anything of the like.”

“What...?”

The sound of a flame puffing into existence resounded through the room.

“Huh...?”

It fell from the ceiling. One puff, then another. The sounds kept coming down one after another.

“I truly could do with a watch. That’ll do for Nephy’s birthday present.”

“What...are you...talking about...?”

“Time’s up,” Zagan said with a shrug. “I told my subordinates I would end this by sunset. I can’t see the sun from here, but I suppose it’s about that time now.”

One puff, and then another. The sounds of fires forming and falling from the ceiling kept multiplying endlessly.

“Heaven’s Phosphor Showers of the Wailing Dead.”

◇

“The sun’s setting,” Foll said, looking up at the reddening sky all the while.

“Angelic Knights, return to formation!”

“It’s useless, we can’t fight anymore!”

“Are you suggesting we should simply abandon the town?!”

The Angelic Knights were shouting. They’d won the battle against the encircled Nephilims. The zombie dragon had been defeated. Kuroka and Shax had managed to strike down Andrealphus. Everyone had exhausted their strength to achieve these spectacular results.

Kuroka was badly wounded. The three Archangels had resorted to the continuous use of their Confessions and couldn’t fight anymore. Furcas had used all the ammunition in his Seraph Hunter. Foll no longer even possessed the strength to use sorcery to float.

Nevertheless, there were seven thousand remaining enemy soldiers—though Kimaris had defeated a sizable chunk of them already. Even Zagan had no hope of surpassing the eight-hundred-year-old Shere Khan on the field of war. And yet, the only ones panicking were the novice Angelic Knights and Ginias.

“All Angelic Knights,” Raphael said, somehow rising to his feet to relay orders. “Gather the injured and begin withdrawing. Aid any enemies that are still right of mind. If there are any, that is.”

“Lord Hyurandell! Why are you acting so calm?! The enemy army will be here shortly!”

Raphael returned Ginias’s gaze as if something had slipped his mind.

“I see... The message was for the Unification Faction, so it didn’t reach you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Erk,” Stella groaned. “What the heck is that? Zagan’s sorcery?”

“Huh?”

Multiple enormous magic circles coated the sky above them.

“Have you ever considered that there are far too few sorcerers here for a battle my liege gladly accepted?” Raphael asked.

“I-Is it not because they were forced to stay back, defend the town, and treat the wounded...?” Ginias answered.

There was that, but Zagan still had thirty other subordinates. Among them were those like Shax and Levia, who rivaled the former Archdemon candidates. If they had participated, this battle would’ve been far easier from the start. So, in that case, what exactly had they been doing this whole time?

“Time’s up. This battle is already over,” Raphael said as he gazed at the magic circles above them.

As if in response, something came dripping down.

“Rain...?”

Yes. The only way to describe the sight was rain. However, it was a sinister black rain. It heavily resembled Foll’s Starfall. And yet, unlike that, it poured down with the density of rain. They’d been unleashed from two thousand meters in the sky like falling arrows.

“Heaven’s Phosphor Showers of the Wailing Dead. The power Zagan created to annihilate everything,” Foll muttered.

Everything that had a physical form, no, even everything that didn’t, such as mana and aura, was thoroughly and utterly destroyed. Those touched by the black rain shrieked like crying devils. However, even though the rain poured over the entire battlefield, not a single drop so much as grazed the Angelic Knights or Zagan’s subordinates.

Zagan had said that he would bring this battle to an end. And coming from an Archdemon, those words implied the utter annihilation of all enemy forces. In other words, he planned to destroy every last person complicit with Shere Khan, leaving no exceptions whatsoever.

“That’s why our boss wanted all of Shere Khan’s forces dragged out into the open,” Behemoth said, holding Levia in his arms.

The goal in this battle was to get rid of all the Nephilims Shere Khan had created. And yet, Zagan wasn’t present for that. The Showers of the Wailing Dead was a collaboration of the thirty or so sorcerers left behind in Archdemon Palace. Its activation required Zagan’s consent, but he’d already granted Heaven’s Phosphor to all of his subordinates.

If possible, I wanted to bring the fighting to a stop before this had to be used.

That was why Foll had gone as far as unleashing Marbas to end the battle. Having said that, it had been far too impromptu a solution when faced with an Archdemon.

“Is this the work of the Silver-Eyed King...?” Alshiera muttered in bewilderment, looking up at the powerful sorcery falling from the sky.

“Alshiera, do you find it...unacceptable?” Foll asked.

She didn’t answer.

“I think this is another answer,” Foll said as she nested up against her friend. “To show no compassion to your enemies, but to refuse to abandon a single subordinate. To protect them absolutely. This is proof of that. That’s why he granted them this power.”

“He who binds people together... So this is another way to live, eh?”

“I’m sure it is.”

Before long, the slaughter concluded. Nothing was left in its wake. It was as if the ten thousand soldiers hadn’t existed to begin with.

“Do you not want to celebrate his birthday anymore?” Foll asked, squeezing Alshiera’s hand.

“That would be unthinkable...”

“Then you need to get ready. It’s time for Zagan to learn who you really are.”

“Yes, though that’s quite the distressing thought...” Alshiera replied with a troubled smile.

The red sky mixed with the darkness of the night, dying the world a faint purple.

◇

The constant downpour of Heaven’s Phosphor penetrated the mines and burned everything in the underground room. The Shower of the Wailing Dead that Zagan’s subordinates had put together was only active in the skies above Kianoides. The one happening here was what Zagan had spent the whole day preparing during his battle against the first-generation Archdemons.

Taking on thirteen Archdemons while only using Heaven’s Scale twice had been quite the handicap.

Well, it’s all over now.

Every last one of the terrifying Archdemons crumbled without being able to resist whatsoever.

“No matter how you roll the dice, this battle has been in your arena. No sorcerer would be foolish enough to brave the risk of facing you under such conditions.”

As a king charged with the lives of his subordinates, charging headlong into a battle with no prospect for victory would be the height of folly. In that case, he simply had to refuse the challenge from the beginning. In other words, Zagan hadn’t overturned the flow of the game atop the board. He’d knocked over the entire board and punched his opponent instead.

Still, I couldn’t let Shere Khan’s pawns slip by.

That was why he had to appear in person.

“Well, I didn’t think you’d revive all the Archdemons throughout history.”

Zagan had predicted clashing against the first-generation Archdemons, but he hadn’t thought Shere Khan would go this far. If he’d taken them all on fair and square, he would probably have died. This was the reason he so brazenly puffed at his pipe in the middle of enemy territory.

“What a...terrifying man... Meaning...I was the one...who got dragged...into your arena...?”

Upon hearing that, Zagan held his palm faceup, gesturing Shere Khan to move, before saying, “Stand. A man of your caliber must have something prepared for this eventuality.”

The Showers of the Wailing Dead had burned absolutely everything it had targeted without leaving a trace, but not a single drop had even so much as touched Shere Khan. Zagan hadn’t avoided hitting him, obviously. Shere Khan was an Archdemon.

“So you’ve...even seen...that far ahead...?”

Countless threads crawled out of Shere Khan’s body. They had caught the black raindrops for him. And whenever they burned out, he’d created more.

He must have put together this countermeasure using the Heaven’s Phosphor I once planted on Bifrons.

He did, of course, have a limit to how many threads he could create. If Zagan simply allowed the rain to continue pouring, he would eventually exhaust Shere Khan’s strength. He didn’t dare grant the man who might’ve been his friend such a pitiful death, though.

“Just one part...” Shere Khan said, the mana threads piercing his body and crawling under his skin. “After my body was destroyed by Marchosias...I could only move one part.”

The threads crawled through his entire body and fused with his nerves and muscle fibers. His withered limbs were suddenly filled with vitality as if rejuvenated, bulging with muscles as hard as steel. This was puppetry. This Archdemon, who’d manipulated thousands of Nephilims at once, could even use puppetry to manipulate his own body.

Shere Khan slowly rose from his wheelchair. His hood lowered, revealing the face of a man with such resolve that one wouldn’t believe he was on death’s door.

“But even though I only have that single part of me left, I am still the Tiger King.”

“Your revenge will be fulfilled now,” Zagan said to Dexia, keeping his gaze fixed on his enemy. “Don’t miss a single moment.”

“Understood...”

“How regrettable. It seems my little smoke break is over,” Zagan said, holding out his pipe upside down. He then tapped the pipe, sending burned-up tobacco falling from the bowl.

In that instant, both Archdemons kicked off the ground simultaneously.

“Hmph!”

The Tiger King swung his right arm. He had villainous claws sprouting from his fingers.

A variation of Hex Nails?

Zagan could sense the curse dwelling within them, one that would devour his body with a single touch.

“It’s useless!” Zagan yelled.

“Huh?!”

Zagan smashed the nails with a left punch, crushing the log-like arm behind them into a stump. Disregarding his broken right arm, Shere Khan swung with his left. However, Zagan still had his beloved kiseru pipe in his right hand. And he’d never once considered tossing his bride’s present aside. Thus, he took another step in and used his elbow to shatter Shere Khan’s wrist. He’d stepped too far, though, and was now in range of the Tiger King’s fangs.

Looks like I can’t dodge.

Shortly after confirming that fact, Zagan held out his right arm, his pipe still in his hand. Shere Khan’s fangs clamped down on his forearm, tearing through meat and piercing bone, but that was all.

“Gah...!”

Zagan strained his muscles with all his might, affixing Shere Khan’s fangs in place. With both his arms broken and his fangs stuck, Shere Khan could no longer move.

“It’s over.”

Zagan slammed his left fist into Shere Khan’s defenseless chest. He broke the Archdemon’s sternum, pierced his trachea, shattered his spine, and plunged his fist straight through him and out Shere Khan’s back.

“Splen...did...”

With those last words, Shere Khan coughed up a fountain of blood. As Shere Khan slowly fell to his knees, Zagan swung his right arm to the side, freeing it from the Tiger King’s fangs.

Even his fangs were cursed? How terrifying.

Despite that thought crossing his mind, there were no wounds left by the time Zagan finished checking on his pipe. He’d treated the bite with Prayer’s Shell.

Now prostrated on the ground, Shere Khan muttered something with a nostalgic look in his eyes, saying, “An easy victory...with a kiseru pipe in one hand... You were...always like that...”

“Hm...? What are you talking about?”

Shere Khan didn’t answer. The Tiger King simply had a tranquil expression on his face like a little boy. Zagan then suddenly remembered something as he gazed down at the dying man.

“Oh, right. I almost forgot to tell you the primary reason I had to defeat you.”

“What...is it...?”

If Alshiera or the like were here, they’d likely have stopped him, saying Shere Khan was already on his way to the afterlife. Unfortunately, the only one present to witness the battle was Dexia.

Zagan thrust his finger directly at Shere Khan, then declared, “Do you have any idea how many damn times my dates with Nephy went to waste because of you? That is the reason you had to die.”

Shere Khan was dumbfounded by the far too cruel declaration.

“Da...tes...?”

“You don’t know about them? It’s an excursion where you gallivant about with your loved one. It appeases the heart. It truly is time well spent.”

“Hah... Hah hah...” Shere Khan laughed vacantly. “To think...I’d be struck down...because of that... Aaah... I see... It’s because I couldn’t understand this...because I couldn’t predict why you fought...that I lost...”

Who in the world could’ve predicted that an Archdemon would come to kill him because he wanted to go on a date? Pretty much the only person out there was Barbatos.

“Archdemon Zagan... I could never...have beaten you...”

With that, the long battle against Archdemon Shere Khan came to an end.

◇

“[Thou art the one who governs the sun, the one who looses the arrow to avert calamity.]”

Straddling a broom, Nephy sang her song of celestial mysticism and flew toward Chastille.

“Nephy?”

She held out her hand, and Chastille immediately read her intention and grasped it, twisted her body in the air, and slung herself onto the back of the broom. “Nephteros” noticed the celestial mysticism in action, of course, but she remained there with a bewildered look and didn’t sing a song of her own.

“Hee hee... Apollon Diatrisi? What are you planning?”

With Nephy singing on her own, if “Nephteros” sang, she could hijack her celestial mysticism easily, and yet, she chose not to. No, she couldn’t sing. Instead, she wove a spear of light with her crumbling right arm.

“How foolish. How dreadful. You’d do better to vanish completely.”

“Nephy! It’s coming!”

The spear came flying in. Nephy skillfully manipulated her broom to evade “Nephteros’s” direct line of fire, but the spear simply changed directions and chased after her.

I can’t dodge it! In that case...

Nephy signaled Chastille with her eyes, then shot off high into the skies.

“[Thine harp can even charm the gods. Thine words sing of the future.]”

Golden lights spread out around Nephy as she rose toward the sun. As if converting the far too strong sunlight into an inferno, the radiance shaved away at the spear of light.

“Nephteroooooos!”

And then, slipping by the spear, Chastille leaped from the broom.

“How wretched!”

“Nephteros” tried to create another spear in her left hand, but that had started crumbling as well. This time, the destruction didn’t end at her wrist. It went all the way up to her bicep.

“Please—Azrael!”

Chastille twisted her body, swinging her Sacred Sword down in a circular arc. She didn’t realize that her own blood was running down its blade from the wounds she’d suffered thus far. And due to that, the light of purification that poured from her Sacred Sword took on the shape of a knight.

“This is...”

Clad in pure white armor, the knight wielded a slender sword and a shield. Angelic Confession. Chastille had learned swordsmanship from the legendary Angelic Knight Oberon and had fought her way out of multiple deadly situations at Archdemon Zagan’s side. She wasn’t self-conscious of it, but her power had long reached the point of Confession. However, it was actually “Nephteros” who looked utterly bewildered by the sight.

“Sister...”

Had Chastille unconsciously intended this? Or had the Confession acted of its own will? The white knight gently wrapped its arms around “Nephteros,” attempting to soothe it.

“Come back to us, Nephteros!” Chastille screamed, landing on the knight’s back. She then held out her empty left hand and placed it on her friend’s cheek.

“[Crowned by laurels, accompanied by deer and wolves, the one who circles around to night. With the moon as a sister, thine bow is both plague and medicine. Both poison and solace. Pour down upon all creation, and scatter blessings and ruin over the land.]”

While Chastille struggled to reach “Nephteros,” Nephy let go of her broom and started free-falling through the air. The radiance in the sky had likely thrown off “Nephteros’s” aim. Nephy passed right by the spear as it shot off and vanished into the distance. She then stretched out her arm, and her broom returned to her. A moment later, she stood herself up on the broom while continuing her descent. She needed both her hands for this. And so, Nephy held her left arm straight out and pulled her right hand back to her jaw.

“[This is both destruction and salve]—Apollon Diatrisi.”

A bow and arrow of celestial mysticism took shape in her hands, then rained light down onto “Nephteros.”

“Tee hee hee... What are you playing at?”

There was no destructive power behind the arrows. That was because Nephy had come here to save Nephteros. By exorcizing evil, the healing arrows of purification stopped the decay happening to “Nephteros’s” body by piercing her.

But it’s not fixing her!

The best the arrows could do was stop her body from crumbling more.

Nephy landed atop of Chastille’s Confession, then held out her right hand.

“Give Nephteros back to us...!”

Nephteros looked up at Nephy’s hand with eyes that Nephy definitely recognized. She reached out with her stump of an arm, which was missing everything from the elbow down, and both Nephy and Chastille grasped it firmly.

“How filthy! Don’t touch meee!”

“Nephteros” began struggling once more, shaking off the white Confession. Nevertheless, these two weren’t going to give up so easily.

“I’ll never—”

“—let go!”

No matter how much she struggled, how much she hit them, no matter how much mana she slammed into them, “Nephteros” couldn’t break their hold on her.

I’ll never let you die!

The healing light of mysticism poured down from Nephy. The more “Nephteros” struggled, the more her body destroyed itself, which Nephy was desperately trying to hold back.

“Unhand me at once! Unhand— Please! Please just let me go!” tears formed in Nephteros’s eyes as she wailed. “I can’t stand it anymore! Everyone’s going to die! Even though...he said...he loved me... Why are you trying to save me?!”

“Because you’re my sister!”

“Because you’re my friend!”

Nephy and Chastille’s answers overlapped splendidly.

“Aaah... Why did you come all the way out here...?”

Whom were those words directed at? Nephteros’s eyes didn’t reflect Nephy or Chastille’s figures.

◇

A girl cradled her knees as total darkness surrounded her. She couldn’t remember her name. Who was she? Why was she cowering in a place like this? The sound of a drop of water splashing echoed through the air, allowing her to realize that she was surrounded by water. Was it a lake? It seemed fairly wide and deep at least.

The sound of a splashing droplet echoed once more. It was getting on her nerves. She wanted it to be quiet. She didn’t know why, but she was extremely drowsy.

“——”

The sound of water grew more incessant. It almost sounded like a voice. It wouldn’t bother anyone if she just went to sleep, would it?

Oh, right. I feel like I’ve always been bothering others.

Hadn’t things gone past the point of no return due to her heinous deeds?

No. Please. I don’t want to remember.

She buried her face between her knees and blocked the sound of water from her ears.

“—teros—Neph—os—Lady Nephteros!”

She wanted it all to just stop. She didn’t want her name to be called. Getting involved with anyone would just cause them trouble and lead to a terrible outcome. Her living would just bring misfortune upon others. What purpose was there in a life like that?

“I won’t give up! I’ll definitely get you back!”

The sound of the water grew louder. Why wouldn’t it quiet down? Why was that gentle voice drawing nearer? She didn’t want to see that kind of thing anymore.

What kind of thing...?

She didn’t want to give it more thought. She knew that, but felt like it was something important that she shouldn’t have forgotten.

“Give Nephteros back to us...!”

She could hear a different splashing now. Give what back? If they wanted it back, they could just take it.

“I’ll never—”

“—let go!”

More splashes joined the cacophony.

No. Stop. I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to understand. I’m sure I loved them. I really, truly loved them. I was happy by their side. I was saved when she cried for me. He told me he loved me. They all accepted me. And yet, everything went to waste. Why? Why are you still trying to save someone like me?

“Because you’re my sister!”

“Because you’re my friend!”

Aaah, it’s really getting noisy.

It was getting so noisy that she tried opening her eyes a little. However, she regretted doing so immediately. Her body was sticky, filthy, and crumbling to pieces. She couldn’t even tell which parts were her own anymore.

It’s just like back then...

After being abandoned by her master and absorbed by the dreadful sludge, all she had been able to do was wait to vanish. Thinking back on it, she’d been tormented by nightmares ever since. The great Archdemon Zagan had saved her from the sludge and obliterated it, but he hadn’t gotten rid of the part corroding her spirit. She didn’t even know whether she was sludge or a person right now.

Suddenly, a man’s hand stretched out to her filthy figure as he said, “I’ll say it as many times as you want. I won’t give up on you. I love you. I won’t let you go without hearing an answer!”

He was covered in wounds and smeared in blood, but he kept speaking. Why was this person so desperate?

“It means you’re loved. How enviable.”

Before she knew it, there was an unfamiliar girl by her side. Who was this? She had no recollection of anyone who looked like her.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. This is akin to a dream, right? So isn’t it fine to have one or two fairies around?”

I don’t know what she’s saying, but I suppose she’s not here to hurt me.

“Tee hee hee... Not just me. This man here desperately reaching out to you, those calling you from the outside all this time, none of them will hurt you.”

So why does it hurt so much?

“Hmm... It’s probably because you’ve been through so many painful experiences. But that’s exactly why you deserve happiness.”

And how do I even accomplish that?

“Oh, that? It’s not all that hard. He’s reaching for you, so all you need to do is grasp his hand firmly. Simple, right?”

For some reason, her cheeks felt sopping wet. Why was that? She tried wiping her face and found crimson stains on her hands.

Oh, I remember now... This is blood. Richard’s blood... The blood of the man who died because he said he loved someone like me. That’s why I just have to disappear.

“Nephteros!”

That was the first time he’d ever said her name in such a strong tone, which made her jolt and raise her face.

“I’ve returned for you. Didn’t I promise? I won’t let you be alone ever again.”

His voice was so gentle that she spontaneously stretched her hand out toward him, but the arm she held out had no shape. Nevertheless, he grabbed her by that inhuman arm and pulled her whole body into an embrace. Held firmly in his arms, the depths of her chest felt helplessly warm.

I also...want to be with you...forever...Richard...

She didn’t even know whether she had a mouth to speak with anymore, yet he lovingly stroked her head.

“Let’s go back, Lady Nephteros.”

He had a sword gripped in one hand. It was a sword, but for some reason, it looked like the little girl who’d been there mere moments ago.

“—[This is both destruction and healing]—”

The little girl hummed a song and light fell from the sky as if in response, dyeing the pitch-black world pure white.

◇

“Nephy! That’s enough! You’ll die at this rate!”

Nephy had been continuously casting mysticism to keep Nephteros’s body from falling apart.

“No. I can’t. If I stop now, we won’t be able to hold it back anymore.”

After being struck by Apollon Diatrisi, Azazel’s presence had vanished. Nephy had no evidence to back her suspicions, but she was convinced that Azazel wouldn’t appear inside Nephteros ever again. However, the damage to Nephteros’s body had been grave. Zagan definitely had some means of saving her, but Nephteros wouldn’t hold out until he arrived. What’s more, after the battle with “Nephteros,” Nephy didn’t have any energy to spare.

“Nephy!”

Nephy’s vision warped as she finally fell to the floor.

“Please...don’t...vanish...”

“Nephy...”

That was the one and only instant Chastille had averted her attention from Nephteros.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

A swarm of crystals that rustled like falling sand surged toward them.

“Bifrons?!”

“Hee hee... Too slow!”

Chastille swung her Sacred Sword, but Bifrons slipped past it and snatched Nephteros.

“Not on my watch!”

However, there was one other person present who’d been wary of Bifrons. Asura brought his battered gauntlet down on the crystals coiling around Nephteros. A blow from his Hex Arm could have even damaged the crystallized Bifrons, yet...

“Sorry. Could you please stand down and let this child go?”

A muscular arm halted Asura’s strike.

“Who the hell are you?!”

“Archdemon Naberius. I’m friends with Alshiera too, you know?”

“Don’t fuck with me!” Asura roared. However, he couldn’t move. In fact, he couldn’t even muster enough strength to pull his Hex Arm free from Naberius’s vise-like grip.

“I never imagined you’d lend me a hand...” Bifrons said.

“Oh my, didn’t I tell you? I actually rather like you.”

“......”

Bifrons said nothing in response as he vanished with Nephteros in tow.

“No... Give her...back... Neph...teros...!”

They’d struggled so frantically. They’d exhausted every last ounce of their strength. She’d thought they’d finally gotten her little sister back, and yet, at the very last moment, everything had been stolen from them.