Chapter 1: A Discussion About the Reward

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t exactly the most graceful side of me to show,” Amelia said softly as she sniffled, finally pulling away after the long embrace. She took a quiet breath, straightening her posture in an attempt to regain her composure.

“No, not at all,” I replied, shaking my head. “But… um, are you two sisters?”

“Yes. Half-sisters, technically,” she answered.

“Oneechan is the queen’s daughter, and I’m the daughter of a concubine,” Helen added with a small smile. “It’s pretty similar to how things are with Blud.”

“I-I see…”

I blinked, trying to process what I’d just heard.

Who would’ve guessed there were two members of royalty sitting quietly in Class F all this time?

The realization hit me harder than I expected.

While I was still trying to wrap my head around it, Amelia turned to face me, her expression growing serious again.

“Seiichi-dono, I know I’ve already mentioned this, but you truly did save us. I mean, the way you handled the situation was totally unexpected, but still…”

“…”

“That’s exactly why we have to reward you properly.”

“I didn’t do it expecting anything in return,” I said quickly, raising my hands slightly in protest.

“You may feel that way,” Amelia continued, her voice calm but firm, “but the truth is we were saved. If we fail to repay you in some way, it would tarnish the kingdom’s reputation. Of course, I’m not saying we’ll just steamroll over your wishes for the sake of political protocol, but—”

“N-No, it’s okay. I’m not going to demand anything, especially not something that’d interfere with national business,” I said with an awkward chuckle. “Honestly, we can just drop the whole reward thing…”

This reminds me of the time I helped out Landzelf. The same reward talk came up then. People in charge of countries really have it rough, huh? I can’t imagine having to think through this kind of thing every single time something happens. It sounds exhausting.

I just helped because I wanted to. Why does it always have to become some formal ceremony? Can’t it just end with a simple “thank you” and a smile? Well, complaining about it wouldn’t change anything. And as I’d already said, I wasn’t about to bulldoze over national protocol just to push my own selfish ideas. Honestly, I can’t even do that; I’d break under the pressure in seconds.

At my response, Amelia let out a quiet sigh of relief. Then, straightening up once more, she adopted a thoughtful expression.

“Whew… I appreciate your understanding. But I’m still contemplating an appropriate reward for you. I mean, you stopped a war by yourself. What could possibly measure up to that?”

“Seriously,” Helen added, her voice filled with awe. “We’re talking about a full-blown war between the Kaizell Empire and the Varcia Empire… And you ended it singlehandedly, Seiichi-sensei.”

“Exactly,” Amelia muttered, resting her hand on her forehead. “There’s no such thing as an ordinary reward that could possibly be enough.”

The two of them groaned in unison, burying their faces in their hands.

Okay, yeah. I’m sorry about that.

But truth be told, I didn’t have anything in mind that I wanted anyway.

I’m not short on money. I don’t need new weapons or armor. I have everything I need.

When Landzelf had asked about the reward, I’d managed to smooth things over by agreeing to learn magic from Florio. At the time, I still couldn’t use magic properly, but somehow, that arrangement had been enough to satisfy everyone.

Now, standing behind Amelia, both Leyll and Swinn seemed equally troubled, their brows furrowed as they too struggled to come up with an appropriate reward for me. But it was clear none of them were getting anywhere.

The silence dragged on for a while before Amelia finally let out a weary sigh.

“No good. Nothing comes to mind. And I apologize for asking, but… Seiichi-dono, would you be willing to stay at the castle for just one more day?”

“Huh?”

“I don’t mean this as a replacement for your reward, of course, but we’d like to give you the best hospitality possible while we take a little more time to think. We’ll try to have something figured out by tomorrow. So, what do you think?”

“Uh…”

Well, the fighting’s over, so it’s not like I have anything urgent going on. I guess I should at least let Saria and the others know what’s happening.

“Yeah, I think that’s fine.”

“Really?! Oh, thank you!” Amelia’s eyes sparkled with relief. “Then please, stay in the same room you used last night! We didn’t exactly have the luxury of time yesterday, but this time we’ll prepare a real feast. And the castle has a huge bathhouse we’re quite proud of. Please, make sure to enjoy that, too!”

She beamed at me, her excitement palpable.

Come to think of it, Landzelf’s castle also had a bath. I suppose large baths are just a standard feature of castles. Maybe they serve as a symbol of power or wealth, or something along those lines.

As I was contemplating the connection between bathhouses and nobility, everything started moving faster than I could process. Before I realized, a maid had appeared and was already guiding me back to the guest room I had stayed in the previous night.

※※※

After Seiichi had left the room, Amelia and the others remained behind, still deep in discussion.

“I’ve asked him to wait until tomorrow for his reward, but…”

“Are you okay, oneechan? I mean… just from what we’ve talked about, it really doesn’t seem like there’s any reward we could realistically offer.” Helen glanced toward her sister with concern, her voice quiet but sincere.

“Yes, it’s difficult,” Leyll added with a slow nod. “Honestly, the scale of his achievement is so overwhelming, we don’t even have any point of reference to draw from.”

“Exactly,” Amelia sighed. “Normally, you’d focus on satisfying the person without overly taxing the treasury… But this situation? It’s different. I’ve been seriously considering what would truly satisfy him—not just what is politically safe or fiscally convenient.”

Amelia rubbed her temple as if to ease the pressure.

“It’s true…” she added. “Back when I had to hand out rewards to those idiotic nobles, the situation and my feelings were entirely different. I honestly have no idea what I’m doing anymore.”

Ideas for Seiichi’s reward were thrown around, but none stuck. The discussion circled endlessly, with each suggestion falling flat.

Seiichi hasn’t said a word about what he wants, but it was apparent he wasn’t hurting for money. And as for weapons or armor, nothing in the entire Varcia Empire could surpass what he already possessed.

It felt like the talks were doomed to spiral into a dead end.

But then, Amelia suddenly raised her head, her eyes filled with clarity and resolve.

“I’ve decided.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve… decided?” Helen blinked in surprise. “You mean, about the reward?”

All eyes turned toward Amelia.

She gave a calm, deliberate nod, saying, “Yes. I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to marry Seiichi-dono.”

“What?!”

The entire room froze in place, her declaration crashing into them like a thunderclap.

But Amelia didn’t flinch. She stood firm, her tone unwavering as she continued.

“Let’s be honest. Right now, there’s nothing the Varcia Empire can offer that would truly satisfy Seiichi-dono. So, in that case… the only thing left to give him is me, the Empress.”

“W-Wait a minute, oneechan! Are you seriously saying this?!” Helen shot forward, eyes wide with disbelief.

“I’m completely serious,” Amelia said, placing a hand on her chest with quiet conviction. “Fortunately, I’ve always had decent looks, and I’ve received no shortage of marriage proposals from royals and nobles in other countries. But I’ve turned them all down because I wanted to keep that card in reserve… for exactly this kind of moment. For the future of the Varcia Empire.”

Her voice dropped slightly, tinged with pragmatism.

“That said, I’ll admit, I’ve been thinking lately that I might be nearing the expiration date on this little strategy. After all, youth is power in these things, isn’t it?”

“T-That may be true.” Leyll was the next to recover from the shock. She spoke up hesitantly, her voice a careful whisper. “And yes, diplomacy by marriage is common among royals, but… using it as a reward? Isn’t that a bit extreme? I mean… from Seiichi’s perspective, this might just be a huge inconvenience. It might not even feel like a reward at all.”

“That’s true,” Amelia admitted with a wry smile. “Honestly, it might not be a reward.”

“T-Then why are you doing this?” Helen asked, clearly bewildered.

“Because at this point, the only things I can give him are myself… and my position. In other words, the throne of this country. Without Seiichi-dono, the Varcia Empire would have fallen. That’s just the truth.”

“I… I suppose that’s true…”

Amelia’s tone remained calm and unshaken. In her mind, there was no issue at all with the idea of Seiichi becoming king. After all, even if she married him and handed him the title of Emperor, she had every intention of continuing to handle all governmental affairs herself, just as she always had.

“In fact,” Amelia went on, her gaze distant yet sharp, “it might sound cold, but marrying Seiichi-dono would be a huge asset in diplomatic terms. That’s how powerful he is. His combat ability is utterly absurd.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Helen murmured, arms crossed, her brow knit. She knew firsthand just how ridiculously overpowered Seiichi was. The man wasn’t just a soldier or a mage: he was practically a walking natural disaster. Of course, such a person would be a diplomatic trump card.

Amelia gave a small shrug. “I mean, even if I offer myself to him, there’s no guarantee he’ll accept. But right now, I don’t have any better ideas. So… I’ll at least ask. That’s all I can do for now.”

With those words, the meeting about Seiichi’s reward came to a close, for the time being, at least.

Chapter 2: The True Reward

The next day, Amelia called me back to her office. After yesterday’s tense discussion about the “reward,” I wasn’t entirely sure how today’s meeting would unfold.

Not that I have any complaints, really. After that awkward discussion, she’d followed through on everything she’d promised: a proper banquet, an amazing bathhouse, and a five-star treatment all around. Honestly, I already felt like I’d received more than enough. If they tried to give me anything else, I’d start feeling genuinely guilty just for existing.

That thought was still lingering as I stepped into the room.

Amelia was already there, joined by Helen, Leyll, and Swinn. They were all gathered and waiting, but something felt off—a strange tension in the air, a restless energy.

Everyone looked kind of jittery.

I tilted my head slightly, puzzled. “Uh… so, you called me here. Does that mean you’ve figured out what kind of reward you’re giving me?”

“Y-Yes,” Amelia replied, her voice stiff. “We have.”

“I see…”

Silence followed.

Another beat passed.

“…?”

Wait. Didn’t she just say they decided?

And yet no one was saying a word. In fact, when I really looked, Amelia’s face was noticeably flushed.

Oh no. I felt a creeping unease crawl up my spine. I don’t know what’s about to happen, and I can’t explain why, but I have a really bad feeling about this. Like, terrible. The kind of twist that leads to endless complications later.

That bizarre sixth sense of mine, the one that only ever activates in truly unfortunate situations, was blaring like a siren. I was seconds away from turning on my heel and leaving when, whether for better or worse, Leyll, who had been standing quietly behind Amelia, finally intervened.

“Um… Your Majesty. If you remain silent like this, Seiichi-dono won’t have any idea what’s going on…”

“I… I know that!” Amelia snapped defensively, her voice cracking slightly. After a small cough to compose herself, she looked me dead in the eyes, her cheeks still burning crimson. “Seiichi-dono. I’m ready to tell you what your reward will be.”

“R-Right.”

Something in her tone made me instinctively sit up straighter. Then, without flinching, she raised her voice and made her grand declaration.

“Your reward is me!”

“Right, I—wait, what?!”

Wait… did she just say “me”? As in, herself? “I’m the reward”? No, that can’t be right. Maybe I misheard that. Maybe she said… “medal”? Or “meal”? Please tell me she didn’t just offer herself like that?!

“I said me!” Amelia barked, jabbing her thumb toward her chest. “I, the Empress of the Varcia Empire, am your reward!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa… Hold on a minute!” I flailed my hands in protest. “Can we not just leap straight to that?!”

“And why exactly should I wait?!” she shot back, visibly worked up.

“Wait, I’m the weird one now?!”

Isn’t wanting to pause and process this totally reasonable?! I haven’t caught up to the conversation at all!

“How in the world did we even get to that conclusion?!” I cried.

“You got a problem with it?!”

Amelia’s cheeks were scarlet, but instead of backing down, she stood tall, facing me with the kind of bold defiance you’d expect from a commander on the battlefield, not someone offering herself as a diplomatic prize. I had absolutely no idea how to handle this.

That’s when Swinn, who had been quietly watching from the back with a slightly strained smile, stepped in at last. “Why are you starting a fight?! Your Majesty, if you don’t explain things clearly, Seiichi-dono is just going to stay confused. Look at him… he has no idea what’s going on.”

“Hmph. He should just shut up and accept it.”

“That’s not how this works!” I protested. “You can’t expect me to just nod and say thanks like this is normal!”

Seriously, who could just accept something like this in silence?!

Swinn let out a deep sigh, the kind born of long service to a ruler with no brakes. “Yesterday, during the meeting, we agreed it would be a proposal, not a demand. Whether or not Seiichi-dono accepts was supposed to be his choice. So how did this turn into a hostage negotiation?”

“I-I know!” Amelia stammered, panic creeping into her voice. “But I’ve never done anything like this before, and I just… I don’t know what I’m doing!”

Swinn crossed her arms, completely unamused. “No one has experience with handing themselves over as a reward. That’s not exactly a thing people train for.”

Exactly! Yes! Thank you! I nodded along silently, overwhelmed with gratitude that someone in the room still understood basic logic. Swinn turned her gaze toward me, calm and composed, as if trying to gently talk down someone on the verge of losing their grip.

“Well, since Her Majesty can’t seem to explain herself properly,” Swinn said with a resigned sigh, “I’ll do it for her. To put it bluntly, the current Varcia Empire doesn’t have anything that would qualify as a proper reward for the service you’ve rendered, Seiichi-dono. Frankly, even at the empire’s peak, I doubt there was anything we could’ve offered that would’ve been worthy. That’s just how monumental your achievement is.”

“Huh.” I let out a noncommittal grunt, unsure where this was going.

“That’s why Her Majesty made the decision to offer herself to you.”

“Okay, hold it right there!” I cut in, waving both hands in protest. “I understood the whole ‘we don’t have anything to give’ part, but how does that jump straight to ‘so have the Empress’?!”

“It’s simple,” Swinn replied, as if the logic were obvious. “If Amelia-sama, the Empress of Varcia, gives herself to you, then in effect, the entire Varcia Empire is being handed over. The two are inseparable.”

“This is madness… Even if I was fighting to protect the Varcia Empire, if the outcome is just handing it to me, that defeats the whole purpose, doesn’t it?!”

“That’s where trust comes in,” she said smoothly. “You’re not the type to abuse power, are you? Even if the entire nation were in your hands, we trust you wouldn’t run it like a despot.”

“Well, no… I mean, I wouldn’t even know what to do with a country in the first place, so I’d just leave things as they are…”

“Exactly. Which is why, in our eyes, even if we did give you the empire, it would continue on as Varcia, unchanged. That’s the conclusion we came to.”

Okay… so now I get how they arrived at that ridiculous logic. But still, this is way too much. And besides… I already have Saria and the others. I’m not alone anymore.

While I struggled to process Swinn’s surprisingly rational presentation of a totally unreasonable idea, Amelia, who had been growing impatient all along, suddenly interrupted.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! What’s the problem?! You get me and the country! What more could you possibly want?!”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t bring myself to say ‘wow, lucky me!’ to something like that!”

I’m just a normal guy! A completely average citizen! Please stop expecting me to handle world-altering offers like it’s no big deal!

As I tried to hold onto what was left of my sanity, Amelia suddenly stopped scowling. Her brows lifted, her eyes sparkled, and her entire face lit up as if she’d just found a brilliant loophole in an impossible negotiation.

“That’s it!” she declared. “If just me isn’t enough, then I’ll throw in Helen, too!”

“Huh?!”

The synchronized shriek echoed through the room as Helen, who until now had managed to remain blissfully uninvolved, was suddenly dragged into the conversation.

“W-W-W-Wait! Oneechan, what did you just say?!” Helen’s voice cracked as she recoiled.

“There’s no helping it!” Amelia declared dramatically, her tone completely unapologetic. “This is for the good of the Varcia Empire!”

“Well, maybe, but still—!”

“If Helen’s not enough, then fine… Let’s throw in Leyll and Swinn, too!”

“M-Me, too?!” Leyll squeaked, blinking in alarm.

“Oof… she’s officially lost it,” Swinn muttered, her eyes going glassy as she stared off into the middle distance.

Helen and Leyll stood frozen, stunned by Amelia’s rapidly escalating madness, while Swinn seemed to mentally check out entirely. Meanwhile, I just stood there.

Can we please not ignore the guy who’s supposed to be receiving all these offers? This is exactly what I was afraid of. This… this right here was the terrible feeling I had earlier. And now it’s happening. Right in front of me. Which is why I wanted to leave in the first place!

Even as I stood mere steps away, the four women launched into a heated back-and-forth over who else could be “offered” to me, completely forgetting I was still in the room. I seriously started considering whether I could just quietly excuse myself and go back to my room.

Before I could act on that deeply tempting idea, a sudden knock echoed against the heavy wooden door of the office.

“What?!” Amelia snapped, clearly annoyed. “We’re busy in here!”

Despite her irritation, she allowed the visitor to enter. The door swung open, and a soldier hurried in, almost stumbling over his own feet.

“H-Her Majesty!” he gasped, breathless.

“What is it now?” Amelia frowned. “Why are you so worked up?”

“I-It’s the garden… Something’s happened to the garden! It’s a total disaster!”

What?

All of us exchanged puzzled glances. Without another word, we decided to head for the garden to find out what exactly had gone so horribly wrong.

Chapter 3: The Tree’s… Evolving?!

“What… what the hell is this?”

Guided by the soldier who had come crashing into the office, we rushed out to the palace gardens. And the moment we stepped outside, all of us froze in disbelief at the sight before us.

There, right in the middle of the courtyard, stood something utterly unthinkable.

“This… this giant tree wasn’t here before, right?!”

That’s right. A colossal tree, large enough to cover half the palace with its canopy, had appeared in the garden, seemingly overnight.

There’d definitely been nothing like it yesterday.

So, where did this even come from? Don’t tell me… is this some delayed effect from the magic I used back in the Sealed Woods? A surge of anxiety hit me as I considered that possibility. No, that’s not right. This feels different.

As I stood there trying to piece it together, that ominous sixth sense of mine flared again. Something about this just screamed trouble.

And sure enough—

“Oh my, Seiichi-sama. And everyone else, too. Looks like we’re all here.”

“…”

A deep, casual voice echoed from the tree itself.

Right before our eyes, a pair of eyes and a mouth appeared on the massive trunk as it began speaking to us like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I’d had a bad feeling. A really bad feeling. And yes, I had absolutely been right.

“It’s you?!” I shouted, pointing accusingly.

“Hm? What a strange thing to say. Of course it’s me. Clearly, I’m a tree.”

“I can see you’re a tree! That’s not the point!”

What I meant was not “a tree in general,” but that talking tree… oh, screw it. This is way too confusing.

While I found myself shouting at a literal tree in exasperation, the others could only stare blankly. Amelia looked stunned, Helen let out a sigh like she’d given up on life, and the whole situation.

“Haaah… well, it’s Seiichi-sensei,” Helen murmured, resigned. “It’s not that strange for him to have a talking tree in his life, I guess…”

“You’ve got it all wrong!” I yelled, spinning around. “I didn’t make this tree talk, okay?! This whole thing started with Amelia-san! She’s the one who gave the tree life in the first place!”

“Wha—hold on a second!” Amelia protested. “Yes, I did give it life, but only to keep an eye on you! It was just a small, ordinary tree! And once its job was done, its life force should’ve faded away. There’s no way it should still exist, especially this huge! What on earth is going on?!”

Even Amelia looked genuinely shaken; this had clearly gone way beyond what she’d intended. She had absolutely no idea how things had gotten to this point.

“Swinn,” Leyll said quietly, eyes still locked on the giant talking tree. “I don’t think I can follow this anymore.”

“You’re not alone, Leyll,” Swinn replied with a slow nod. “Honestly, I think this has more to do with Seiichi-dono’s influence than Her Majesty’s at this point…”

It seemed like Leyll and the others were starting to mentally check out, retreating into some kind of shared denial of reality.

Hey, could someone remind them to come back to sanity? Because I’d really like to check out too, if that’s allowed.

I still had no idea why or how this tree had grown so massive. As I stood there, grasping for an explanation, the towering thing opened its mouth with a disappointed air, its deep voice rumbling through the garden like a lecture from a disappointed schoolteacher.

“Oh, I see now. You’re all confused because my appearance has changed? That’s what’s got you so worked up? How cruel! Just because I’ve grown a little doesn’t mean you shouldn’t recognize me! Seiichi-sama, is our bond really so shallow that a simple change in size breaks it?!”

“You didn’t grow a little!” I snapped. “And what do you mean by ‘our bond’? Don’t go inventing imaginary relationships!”

All I remembered was being endlessly tormented by this thing every time it spoke.

“Anyway, never mind that—” I started to say, trying to steer the conversation back to reality.

“‘Never mind that’?!” it gasped, wounded.

“Focus. Why are you so damn big now?”

Ignoring its dramatic reaction, I headed straight into the core of the issue. When it spoke before, its voice was odd but tolerable. Now, with its massive body, the sound carried a strange weight, as if it were echoing directly into my mind. It was unsettling and more than a little ominous.

“Hmmm… Why did I grow, you ask?” the tree mused. “To be honest, I don’t really know myself.”

“What?”

“This morning, I just thought I’d root myself a little deeper into this garden, and well… here we are.”

“Wait, hold up… Were you planning to stay in the royal garden?!”

“Well, yes,” it said cheerfully. “You know… because I’m a tree. Planting roots, as they say.”

“Can I burn it?” Amelia asked flatly.

You know what? I wouldn’t object, but maybe let’s all take a deep breath first.

“I mean, okay,” I said, massaging my temples. “So you didn’t mean to grow this huge. But is there really nothing that comes to mind? Nothing you did or felt that might’ve triggered this?”

“Well…” the tree hummed thoughtfully. “I did choose to root myself here because my original role had ended. I figured I’d return to being a regular tree. But perhaps… after spending so much time with you, Seiichi-sama, a bit of your absurdity may have rubbed off on me.”

“Absurdity is contagious now?!” I blurted out.

“Huh… So basically,” Amelia muttered with a resigned sigh, “this is your fault, Seiichi-dono.”

“If it’s Seiichi-dono’s fault…” Swinn added.

“Then everything makes sense,” Leyll finished with a sigh.

“Can I cry now?” Helen asked, utterly defeated.

Why does it always come back to being my fault? And why does everyone just accept that so easily? I’m the most normal person here!

“Well, setting that aside,” the tree said, unfazed, “I’ve actually gained a rather useful ability along with this new form. I can now produce magical energy.”

“What?”

“Indeed. I generate the magic that now flows through this palace. Which means, everyone within the palace grounds will find that magic comes to them more smoothly and efficiently.”

“Wait… so you’re saying we won’t need to use the Chamber of Healing anymore?”

“Exactly. Though the part of the Sealed Woods that you carved out and re-enchanted with your own magic still emits mana, it’s only a fragment, limited in reach. It doesn’t extend far enough to affect the capital. That’s where I come in! I, the magnificent solution to that limitation!”

God, I hate how smug it sounds. But annoying or not, the truth was… this ability would be incredibly useful for the Varcia Empire. If this oversized, egotistical tree was telling the truth—and unfortunately, it probably was—then having it rooted here would improve the magical environment for the entire palace.

Amelia and the others, however, didn’t seem particularly excited. Their expressions ranged from hesitant acceptance to complete mental withdrawal.

As I gave them a sympathetic glance, the massive tree turned its attention back to me and struck a pose—well, as much as a tree could—with unmistakable smugness radiating from its bark-covered face.

“Well? What do you think, Seiichi-sama? Pretty impressive, right? You could say I’ve… branched out.”

“Yeah, and your obnoxiousness has evolved right along with you,” I muttered.

It was always annoying, but now it’s on a whole new level.

“In any case,” the tree continued, puffing itself up even more, “I’ve decided I will now live here in the garden as the divine tree of the Varcia Empire.”

“You’re seriously calling yourself a divine tree?”

“Well, no one else was saying it, so I figured I’d help move things along!”

Unbelievable. It’s way too positive about this.

Just as I was sighing in disbelief at how confidently it was declaring itself a national treasure, the tree lowered its gaze toward us, wearing the closest thing to a condescending smirk a tree could manage.

“Now then… are you sure you’re ready?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“I am a divine tree, you know,” the tree declared proudly.

“Says who? Yourself?” I responded flatly.

“I am not self-proclaimed! How dare you! Such blasphemous disrespect toward a godly being… Have you no shame?! Where is your reverence?! Come on now, kneel! Kneel!”

“That tree sure talks big,” I muttered, glancing over at Amelia.

“Let’s chop it down,” she said bluntly.

Without hesitation or emotion, she started giving orders to the closest soldier, probably to fetch axes, fire, or whatever was quickest.

“Gyaaahhh! Violence! I protest! This is environmental destruction!”

“It’s just one tree. Hardly an apocalypse,” she replied coolly.

“This is how humans destroy nature! One tree at a time!” the tree wailed, thrashing its branches dramatically.

That hit harder than it should’ve. I mean… it’s not wrong. Humans really are kind of selfish.

Not that this was the time or place for an existential crisis, but still…

“Are you sure you want to do this?!” it cried desperately. “Sure, Seiichi-sama may have resolved the immediate crisis, but what happens next? What if the Kaizell Empire starts questioning why their soldiers never returned and decides to attack again?! Wouldn’t having access to magic be rather convenient then?!”

“Well… I mean, yeah. It would be helpful,” I admitted, scratching the back of my head.

“Exactly, right?!” The tree’s voice brightened, its bark almost creaking with satisfaction.

But just as it sounded ready to gloat, Leyll tilted her head slightly, a thoughtful look crossing her face.

“But wouldn’t that also mean our enemies could use magic too?”

“Oh. Good point,” Swinn said with a nod. “And in that case, wouldn’t the Kaizell Empire, which is already more skilled with magic, actually have the upper hand?”

The tree fell silent.

Utterly, completely silent.

Watching it slump in defeat, Amelia gave a decisive nod and turned to the soldier again.

“Let’s go ahead and cut it down after all.”

“Have mercyyyyyyyyyyy!” the tree wailed.

Where did that so-called “divine tree” go? Just moments ago, it had been preaching about holiness and reverence. And now, it was clinging to life like a terrified civilian. The whole sight was so absurd that our sense of normalcy had already started to erode.

As the giant tree continued to wail pitifully, Amelia let out a long, weary sigh.

“Haaah… fine. We won’t chop you down for now. You did bring Seiichi-dono to us, after all. And honestly, having someone—well, something—that can produce magic isn’t entirely a bad thing.”

“O-Oh! Your Majesty!” the tree cried, trembling in relief.

“But the problem remains,” Amelia continued, her tone hardening as her mind shifted back to the larger issue. “Even if we can use magic again, we still need to figure out how to teach it. With most of the continent under Kaizell Empire control, bringing in instructors from other nations is practically impossible…”

Her words trailed off. Then, suddenly, her eyes lit up with realization.

“Wait… that’s it!”

“Huh? Oneechan?” Helen blinked, startled by Amelia’s sudden outburst.

“Helen, you’re going to teach us magic!”

“Huh?”

Before Helen could react, Amelia stepped forward, gripping her sister’s shoulders firmly, her eyes burning with conviction.

“You’re the only one in this country who’s actually studied magic firsthand!”

“Well, that’s true,” Helen admitted hesitantly, “but I only know fire magic… that’s all I can use.”

“That doesn’t matter! Just like swordsmanship, magic has a shared foundation, right?”

“I mean… yeah, the basics of controlling mana are the same across elements, but—”

“Then that’s exactly what you’ll teach us,” Amelia said, her voice steady and warm. “Start with what you know. We’ll build from there.”

“M-Me… teaching?” Helen murmured, staring at her sister in disbelief. Then, almost in a whisper, she asked, “You really think… I can be useful? To this country?”

Amelia didn’t answer right away; she simply met her sister’s gaze.

“Do you, oneechan?”

“Yes,” Amelia said without hesitation, her tone full of quiet pride.

At those words, Helen’s eyes began to glisten. Her lips trembled as tears spilled freely down her cheeks.

“H-Hey, what’s wrong?” Amelia asked, startled.

“I’m sorry,” Helen said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “It’s just… I’ve always wanted to help you. That’s why I went to Barbodel Magic Academy—to study, to be useful. But even there, I couldn’t use magic properly. I was a failure… and I started wondering if leaving home meant anything at all…”

Her voice broke as years of buried frustration surfaced, along with the longing to prove herself and stand beside her sister not as royalty, but as someone capable of making a difference.

At last, Helen began to pour out all the feelings she’d been holding in for years.

“I kept thinking… maybe I’d never be able to do anything. That I’d just end up useless, and that would be it. But then, thanks to you, Seiichi-sensei, I finally managed to use magic. Everything I studied wasn’t for nothing after all…”

Her voice wavered, and before she could say another word, the tears broke free.

“I’m so glad… I’m so happy… even someone like me can finally do something—for you, oneechan…”

“Oh, you idiot,” Amelia whispered softly, her voice trembling with emotion. “It’s not about being useful or not. You’re precious to me, Helen. Just being here… that’s enough.”

She wrapped her arms around her sister, holding her close as Helen cried against her shoulder. The quiet sound of sniffles filled the room, while Swinn and Leyll discreetly wiped their own eyes, pretending they weren’t moved but failing miserably.

Yeah, looks like they’ll be fine now.

Satisfied that the two sisters didn’t need me for the next few minutes, I quietly slipped away from the scene. Then, before anyone could notice, I activated a teleportation spell and warped back to Saria and the others.

※※※

“I’m sorry… oneechan,” she sniffled.

“It’s fine,” Amelia said gently. “So… will you take on the role?”

Helen wiped away her tears, took a deep breath, and nodded firmly.

“Leave it to me! I’ll teach everyone everything I know about magic!”

Amelia smiled, her expression bright with pride and relief. “Thank you, Helen. And Seiichi-dono, for everything you’ve done for us, including this… I think it’s only right that your reward be—”

She stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes darted around the room.

“Wait. Where’s Seiichi-dono?”

“Huh?” Helen blinked, looking around.

“Hold on… he was right here a moment ago.”

“He’s gone,” Swinn confirmed, scanning the area.

As the group stood frozen in confusion, a deep, resonant voice rolled through the courtyard.

“Are we looking for Seiichi-sama?” said the giant tree, its tone almost smug. “He’s already left,” it continued, matter-of-fact.

“Huh? L-Left? You mean he went back to his room?”

“No,” it replied with calm finality. “Back to his own country.”

“WHAT?!”

Amelia and the others screamed in perfect unison, their voices echoing across the courtyard.

“He left?! Just like that?! Without even accepting our reward?!” Amelia shouted, her jaw dropping.

“Maybe… maybe he thought it was too much trouble?” Helen offered meekly.

“Too much trouble?!” Amelia repeated, her voice climbing several octaves. She stood there trembling, her shoulders quivering in disbelief.

Leyll, sensing danger in the air, hesitated before whispering, “A-Amelia-sama?”

“Oh, he’s got nerve, I’ll give him that,” Amelia muttered darkly.

“Huh?” Helen blinked, confused.

Then, with a sharp tilt of her chin, Amelia threw her arms wide, glaring up toward the heavens.

“Fine! If that’s how he wants to play it, then I’ll hunt him down myself! He’s not getting away until he accepts my reward!”

“A-Amelia-sama?!” Leyll yelped.

“I don’t care what it takes! He’s going to accept me! Along with Helen, Leyll, and Swinn!” she roared, her voice ringing like a royal decree.

“Us too?!” the other three cried at once.

The decision, it seemed, had already been made inside Amelia’s head: they were all part of the “reward package” now.

“What? Any complaints?” she demanded, eyes flashing.

“Well, I-I mean…” Leyll stammered. “Seiichi-dono is a fine man, yes, but this is all happening rather suddenly…”

“Oh, come on! It’s not like any of you have boyfriends!” Amelia shot back without hesitation.

“That’s so cruel!” Leyll cried.

Swinn crossed her arms, looking unusually relaxed. “Honestly, I don’t mind. I’ve always been curious about marriage, but the idea of searching for someone sounded exhausting.”

“Swinn?!” Leyll gaped at her. “You’re fine with this?!”

Swinn shrugged with an easy smile. “Why not? Seiichi-dono is incredibly capable. You could do far worse.”

“Well, I—uh…” Leyll’s face turned bright red as she fumbled for words, unable to decide whether to argue or faint.

And just like that, the palace courtyard devolved into another storm of absurdity… again.

Leyll, who had almost been carried away by Swinn’s calm reasoning, hesitated uncertainly, clearly about to give in to the chaos.

Meanwhile, Amelia turned to Helen, her expression fierce with determination.

“Helen, you’re fine with this too, right?!”

“W-Wait, oneechan! Seiichi-sensei already—!”

“Do you like him or not?!”

“I-I mean, it’s not like I hate him, but—”

“Then it’s settled!” Amelia declared triumphantly, as if that were the most airtight reasoning in the world.

“T-This is insane…” Helen muttered, burying her face in her hands. She had long since realized that trying to stop her older sister in this mood was utterly pointless.

Off to the side, the divine tree gave a long, knowing sigh, its branches rustling like someone shaking their head in disbelief.

“Good grief… Seiichi-sama truly is the eye of every storm, isn’t he?” it murmured.

Whether that exasperated comment ever reached Seiichi himself… was another matter entirely.

Chapter 4: Into a New Dungeon

“And that’s the story of how I got back,” I said flatly.

“You really do just pop in out of nowhere, don’t you?”

After escaping—well, mostly safely—from Amelia and the others, I used Teleportation Magic to return to Terbelle, in the Kingdom of Winburg. From there, I headed straight for The Tranquil Tree, the inn where Saria and the rest were staying, and reported my return the moment I arrived.

“Welcome back, Seiichi! How did it go?” Saria asked, her voice bright and full of her usual cheer.

“Too much happened,” I sighed. “I’m exhausted.”

She blinked in surprise, tilting her head, but I couldn’t even begin to explain.

There were trees… more trees… and even more trees. Way too many trees.

I let out another long, heavy sigh, feeling the tension melt from my shoulders as the quiet peace of the inn reminded me just how far I’d come from that chaos.

To be fair, part of the reason I was completely wiped out wasn’t just the chaos with the trees; it was because Amelia had dropped an absolute bombshell about my so-called “reward.” That alone had drained every ounce of my energy.

As I slumped in my chair, still half-zoned out, Al crossed her arms and gave me a wary look. She hesitated for a moment, then asked carefully, “By the way, what happened to Helen’s homeland?”

“Oh, that? It’s fine,” I said without much thought.

“‘Fine,’ huh?” Al arched a brow. “You do realize Helen ran out of here as if her life depended on it, right? From what I heard, her home was under siege by both the Kaizell Empire and the Cult of the Wicked One. Two major forces at once. Doesn’t sound very ‘fine’ to me.”

I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. “Ah, those two? Yeah, they were kind of in the way, so I just dumped them—land and all—into the ocean.”

Al froze mid-blink. “You need to stop doing stuff like that.”

She said it so flatly that I almost laughed.

Why is she acting like I did something unreasonable? That was the most efficient way to solve it!

Al pinched the bridge of her nose, visibly struggling to hide her disbelief. “You can’t brush off something like that! Who even considers ‘dumping land into the ocean’ like it’s nothing?!”

“Well, they’d die if there wasn’t any ground to stand on, right?”

“That’s not the point!”

Yeah, I knew that. But honestly, even I wasn’t sure why I’d done it. Maybe it was one of those you don’t know until you try situations. Or maybe I’d just been swept up in the moment. Yeah… let’s go with that.

Either way, it definitely belonged in the Things I Regret but Can’t Undo folder.

Seeing Al bury her face in her hands, I couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for her. Still, I’d already accepted the truth: my body didn’t seem to follow the same logic as the rest of me anymore. It’s my body, but I can’t seem to control it. That’s… probably not ideal, is it?

I stared off into the distance for a moment before a sudden thought struck me.

“Wait—what about Routier and Origa-chan? What happened to them?”

Originally, the plan had been to visit the dungeon so Helen could level up, but during the chaos, Routier and the others had gone off to meet Lucius. It occurred to me that I hadn’t heard a word about them since.

Before I could ask further, Saria brightened as if she’d just remembered something. “Oh, right! About that, Seiichi… Origa-chan and the others went back into the dungeon!”

“Huh?”

Her words froze me in place. For a second, the exhaustion and the nonsense from earlier all vanished. They went back? Already?

“Originally, they were planning to wait until you got back,” Al explained, folding her arms. “But apparently the Cult of the Wicked One started acting suspicious, and since it looked like you’d be later than expected, they decided to head out first.”

“I… see.” I rubbed my chin, already feeling a headache forming. “So, Routier’s group right now is Origa-chan, Lulune, and Zora? What about Lucius and the Demon Lord’s army?”

Saria shook her head. “The Demon Lord’s people went back to their country, but Lucius said he had business in another dungeon, so he split off from Routier’s group. Oh, and Zeanos went with him!”

“Really?”

Now that she mentioned it, I remembered what Sheep had told me earlier, about two more dungeons that were about to be truly conquered in the near future. So that’s what Lucius and Zeanos were up to… They’d gone to free the Black Dragon God.

“Wait a sec… then which dungeon did Routier and the others go to?”

Al’s expression turned grim. “That would be the one where Routier’s father is sealed.”

“Huh?”

That meant they were heading there to break his seal and free him. According to what Sheep had said, if that dungeon were conquered in the truest sense, Routier’s father would be released from his imprisonment, since the very condition for its true conquest was to undo his seal.

Now that I thought about it, Sheep hadn’t actually said that particular dungeon would be conquered. He’d only said the dungeon of the Black Dragon God would be cleared.

And the other dungeon—the second one meant to be “liberated”—was said to be the place where the Cult of the Wicked One’s so-called deity, the Wicked One himself, was sealed away.

So that’s why the Cult’s been moving. If that seal’s weakening too, things are about to get really bad.

I ran a hand through my hair, sighing deeply. I just got back, and I already have too much to think about. Great.

“But what I don’t understand,” I finally said, “is why Routier chose to go to the dungeon in the first place. Could it be related to her meeting with Lucius and the others when we were there?”

Al nodded. “Yeah. From what I heard, she originally went to talk to Lucius about her father. That’s why they split off back then.”

“I see… or maybe I don’t.”

Nope. Still confused. The more I think about it, the less sense it makes.

While I was still trying to piece things together, Al suddenly snapped her fingers as if she’d just remembered something. “Oh, right! I almost forgot. Lucius left a message for you.”

“A message?” I asked, blinking.

“Yeah. He said, ‘When you get back, please help Routier.’ Apparently, according to him, she didn’t head to that dungeon to break the seal or to achieve some kind of ‘true conquest’ in the first place.”

“She didn’t?”

“Not exactly. I mean, Lucius said if the opportunity came up, she’d go ahead and finish it, but that wasn’t her goal. Don’t ask me for details, though. I’ve got no idea what he meant.”

I rubbed my temples, feeling the confusion deepen. “Right. Great. That clears up nothing.”

Still, even without Lucius asking, I was planning to help Routier anyway. There was no universe in which I’d ignore her. But if what he’d said was true, a true conquest probably isn’t possible.

Sheep may be a smug pain in the ass, but he doesn’t lie about things like this.

Then again, there’s always the chance something unpredictable could happen, something even he couldn’t foresee. Which, knowing my luck, probably will.

“Well,” I said finally, shaking off the thought, “either way, we should go after Routier and the others as soon as possible. Do you know where that dungeon is?”

Al nodded grimly. “Yeah. The place is called the Wailing Land.”

“The Wailing Land!” I echoed, eyes widening in shock. Then, after a long pause, I blinked and scratched my cheek. “Where’s that again?”

Al’s shoulders sagged as she sighed. “Yeah. I figured you’d say that.”

※※※

Meanwhile, some time earlier, while Seiichi and the others were still exploring the dungeon to help Helen train her skills…

Just as Lucius had feared, the Cult of the Wicked One had already taken control of the Wailing Land.

Deep beneath the sun-scorched expanse of the Wailing Land, two Apostles of the Cult of the Wicked One stood over a spread of parchment, quietly exchanging words.

“So it’s true,” one murmured, eyes scanning the desolate plain. “This land really does possess a power that strengthens monsters.”

“Of course it does,” the other replied with a thin smile. “It should, considering this is the place where the Demon King himself was sealed.”

He turned his gaze toward the gaping maw that scarred the earth before them: a vast, black pit that looked deep enough to swallow the world whole. The air above it shimmered with heat and menace, and strange runic symbols had been etched into the cracked ground around it, forming an intricate circle that pulsed faintly with otherworldly energy.

“Still,” the first Apostle said with a quiet snort, “the demonfolk really are fools. One of their own betrayed them, and now their king’s resting place, this sacred ground, belongs to us.”

“Don’t mock them,” the other replied with a cold chuckle. “They are but lesser beings, unworthy even of the Wicked One’s blessing. Reaching this place alone would have been far beyond their capabilities.”

“I suppose that’s true,” the first admitted. “In that sense, we should thank the hero who sealed the Demon King here in the first place. The only real downside is how close this site is to the Demon Kingdom.”

“Downside?” His companion laughed. “No, that’s perfect. To have their king so near and yet forever beyond reach. That bitterness, that helpless rage… all of it feeds our master.”

He wasn’t wrong. The dungeon where Routier’s father, the former Demon King, had been sealed lay just beyond the borders of the Demon Kingdom itself. But the path leading there teemed with powerful monsters. Even the mightiest of the Demon Lord’s army—Zolua, Zeros, and Jade among them—had never been able to approach it safely.

For generations, the demons had done nothing but despair from afar. And that despair was precisely what made the place so enticing to the Cult.

Thanks to the betrayal of a high-ranking defector within the Demon Kingdom, the Cult of the Wicked One had easily infiltrated demon territory and reached the Wailing Land without resistance.

And for those bearing the Wicked One’s blessing, the journey had been almost effortless. The divine corruption that clung to them repelled the monsters along their path. It was proof enough of how immense that power was.

“Soon,” one Apostle whispered, his voice trembling with fanatic joy, “our master’s resurrection will be upon us.”

“Yes,” his comrade breathed, eyes gleaming with fervor. “When that day comes, this world shall fall beneath His dominion.”

A third voice cut through their fevered reverence, low and calm yet heavy with command.

“That is why this place,” the newcomer said, stepping from the shadows at the edge of the circle, “is of utmost importance.”

The air around them seemed to darken in response.

“W–What?! L–Lord Yutis!”

The Apostles immediately dropped to their knees, bowing their heads low. The one who had appeared so suddenly before them was none other than Yutis the Omnipresent, one of the Divine Apostles of the Cult of the Wicked One, a being who had received not merely the god’s blessing, but His favor.

Behind him stood another figure, one whose presence seemed wholly out of place in such a desolate wasteland.

The man’s skin was a deep bronze, his black hair unkempt and windswept, his golden eyes gleaming like a predator’s beneath half-lidded lashes. With his hands shoved into the pockets of a worn leather jacket, he took in the barren surroundings with a lazy glance before finally turning to Yutis, brows furrowing in mild irritation.

“So… let me get this straight,” he said, his voice carrying an edge of amused disbelief. “You want me to guard this place?”

“Yes,” Yutis replied simply.

The man snorted. “C’mon, Yutis. There’s nothing here. You drag me all the way out to this wasteland for what, exactly? My power’s wasted in a dump like this.”

Yutis’s expression didn’t waver. “Don’t sell yourself short. Having you—the Resonant, Vitor—watch over this site is assurance enough.”

Vitor, “the Resonant,” tilted his head, golden eyes narrowing. “And remind me again why this place even needs guarding? Nobody’s gonna come for it. Hell, nobody could even if they wanted to.”

“Ordinarily, yes,” Yutis agreed. “But lately, I find it… difficult to be so optimistic.”

“Huh?” Vitor arched a brow. “I’ve heard that old bastard Nightmare’s been toying around in the Kaizell Empire, pumping out those ‘Transcendants’ of his for fun, but aside from that? Who’s left that could even reach this place?”

Yutis’s gaze darkened. “Have you forgotten? Three of our Apostles have already been eliminated. And not by soldiers of the Kaizell Empire.”

Vitor blinked, his smirk fading. “Then go after whoever did it. You’re good at that, aren’t you?”

Yutis’s jaw tightened, and for the first time, a flicker of genuine frustration crossed his face. “If only it were that simple.”

“Wait—” Vitor straightened, suddenly serious. “Don’t tell me your power doesn’t work on them?”

Yutis’s silence was answer enough. His lips twisted into a grimace of humiliation. “It’s… exceedingly vexing.”

Watching that rare display of emotion, Vitor exhaled a low whistle and muttered, “Well, damn. If it’s enough to get under your skin, this might actually get interesting.” He leaned forward, golden eyes narrowing in disbelief. “So… you’re telling me your power didn’t work? That’s hard to believe. You can see the past and future of us—of every Divine Apostle, can’t you?”

Yutis inclined his head slightly. “Yes.”

“Then you’re not weakened, are you? I mean, even I’m not that easy to read. And that bastard Suredeath—you can even see his future, can’t you? The guy erased every other possibility and even slaughtered his own past.”

Yutis gave a thin smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Indeed, his past is… annihilated beyond view. But the future always shifts. If one observes closely enough, there will always exist a single world line where it can be glimpsed. I must admit, though, it is not a future I care to visit myself.”

Vitor barked a laugh, the sound echoing across the barren plain. “Well, yeah! If he wipes out the whole timeline, there’s not much left to see, is there?” But his amusement faded quickly, and his expression turned serious again. “So, I just need to guard this place, right?”

“Precisely,” Yutis said. “Our master’s resurrection is nearly upon us. But even when He returns, His strength will not yet be whole. To restore it, we must harvest negative emotions from every corner of this world.”

“That part’s nothing new,” Vitor muttered. “But why this dump specifically?”

“This land carries the power to enhance monsters,” Yutis explained, his tone as calm and measured as ever. “And deep within lies the sealed Demon King. With any suitable vessel, we can force his body and soul together again. The result will be a formidable pawn under our control. A servant forged from the Demon King’s flesh and spirit will not fall easily.”

Vitor’s smirk returned, darker now. “And what happens to the Demon King himself?”

Yutis answered without hesitation. “He dies, of course. His consciousness would only be an obstacle. What we need are his remains—body and soul alike.”

He spoke the words as casually as if he were discussing the weather. Vitor chuckled, a low, wicked sound curling from his throat.

“Yeah. That tracks.”

“I’m glad we understand each other.” Yutis nodded with satisfaction, the faintest glint of superiority in his gaze. “Then I’ll take my leave. I trust you’ll handle the defense of this site.”

“Yeah, yeah. Leave it to me,” Vitor said, waving a lazy hand. “Not that anyone’s stupid enough to come here anyway.”

“Perhaps not,” Yutis replied. Then, his voice lowered slightly as his eyes flicked toward the Apostles still standing stiffly nearby. “In any case, do your jobs without troubling the Resonant.”

“Y-Yes, Lord Yutis!” they stammered in unison.

With that, Yutis gave a satisfied nod and vanished, his form dissolving into the heat-distorted air.

Vitor watched him go, then turned to the two trembling Apostles. “All right, you heard the man. Get back to work. Do what you always do.”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

One of them hesitated. “Um… Lord Vitor, what will you be doing?”

Vitor grinned, stretching his arms over his head. “Me? I’m gonna sleep.”

And with that, he simply dropped to the ground, folding his arms behind his head and closing his eyes as if the world’s fate weren’t hanging in the balance.

He didn’t know it then, but that would be the last rest he would ever take.

Chapter 5: The Demon God’s Resurrection

“Oh… ohhh…”

In the depths of a void so absolute it devoured even the idea of light, Yutis stood motionless, eyes wide with rapture. His breath trembled as he gazed at the formless expanse before him.

And then—

“You have done well, Yutis.”

The voice did not echo. It simply was, resonating through every atom of existence.

“Ah! M-My lord!”

Before him, the Darkness itself took shape. It was not a shadow or a being, but Darkness incarnate. It was as though the blackness surrounding Yutis was the entity’s very body, stretching beyond the horizon, beyond reason, infinite and all-consuming.

From that vastness, two eyes like twin amethysts slowly opened. Their glow pulsed with divine cruelty and unnatural warmth, as though mercy itself were but another form of dominion.

“It has been long indeed,” the voice murmured, its tone equal parts lament and triumph. “But at last… my seal is undone.”

“Yes… yes, my lord—the Wicked One!”

There could be no mistaking it. The being before Yutis was the god the cult had worshipped and bled for: their master, their reason, their apocalypse.

The Wicked One shifted His gaze, staring into the endless void beyond Yutis as though searching for something far greater.

“Now then… let us see how much of my power remains.”

The world—or what passed for one within that void—screamed. The space around Yutis convulsed, the darkness itself writhing under the strain of divine force. The Apostle dropped to one knee, unable to withstand the pressure.

“A-Ah! This… this is the power of my god!”

But the joy on his face faltered as the immense energy suddenly stilled. The Wicked One’s amethyst eyes narrowed, irritation bleeding into His voice.

“This? This is what remains of my might? No… no, this is nothing. This cannot be all that I am!”

Even anger itself seemed to distort the void. Yutis froze, struck silent beneath the weight of that fury.

“Have I grown so feeble,” the Wicked One murmured, voice low and trembling with contempt, “that I can erase only a few billion universes now?”

“—!”

Yutis could only stare in reverent terror. The idea of billions of universes meant nothing to him; he could no more comprehend it than a flame could grasp the sky. Yet to the Wicked One, that annihilation was a trivial proof of weakness, not strength.

It made sense, in a way. The gods had created everything: the cosmos, its laws, its life, and even the concept of creation itself. For a creator, unmaking was as effortless as exhaling.

And yet—

“Strange…” The Wicked One’s gaze flickered, shifting downward. “Why is it that I cannot erase this wretched star that kept me bound for so long?”

“What?” Yutis breathed.

“This world that dared imprison me…” His voice deepened, becoming a whisper that seemed to ripple through reality. “Why does it still exist?”

“That is…”

No matter how powerful his ability, Yutis was still a human. And no human could possibly understand what even a god could not.

Yet, for the briefest instant, an image of that unidentifiable existence flickered through his mind: the one responsible for slaying three of the cult’s Apostles, whose presence he had been utterly unable to trace.

The thought was gone almost immediately. Before a god’s displeasure, even a fleeting suspicion was dangerous.

“Forgive my presumption, my lord,” he said, bowing deeply. “But… perhaps the reason lies in the nature of this world. Your divine power, having been sealed here for so long, may have… fused with the planet itself.”

“Hmm…”

The Wicked One’s eyes narrowed, violet light swirling in contemplative motion.

“That may indeed be so. It is also possible,” He mused, “that the other gods, fearing my return, have tampered with this world. Infuriating as it is, their stature rivals my own. It would not be strange that their machinations remain beyond my sight.”

With that, His expression softened just enough to make the void itself breathe again.

“Very well, Yutis.”

“My lord,” Yutis answered, kneeling fully now.

“To act in this state is meaningless until I reclaim the power I once wielded… at least the strength I possessed before my imprisonment. You understand that much, do you not?”

“Of course, my lord.”

“Good. Then I shall remain here, gathering what strength I can. You will continue as before: use the Divine Apostles and the lesser Apostles alike. Let them harvest despair, hatred, envy… every stain upon the hearts of mortals. Those emotions are the seeds of my restoration.”

“Yes, my lord!”

Yutis pressed his forehead to the ground, trembling with fervent devotion. He believed that would be the end of his orders. But the god’s voice continued.

“In addition to that…” The tone deepened, a hint of anticipation coiling within it. “There is something else I require you to find.”

“Something… to find?” Yutis looked up, hesitant.

“Yes. If my memory serves from the moment before my sealing… when my power clashed with that of the other gods, something was born.”

“Born?”

“Indeed. I was imprisoned before I could discern its nature. Even now, I cannot recall what it was. But whatever came into being back then, it was something neither I nor the gods ever anticipated. Do you understand what that implies?”

The void seemed to tighten around him, and for a moment, Yutis felt as though he were peering into the edge of a truth not meant for mortal minds.

“My deepest apologies, my lord. I do not—”

“Do not understand?”

The Wicked One’s voice cut through the void like thunder given thought. “Yutis… I am speaking of something that neither the gods, nor even I, could have foreseen.”

“What?” Yutis’s eyes widened.

The very idea was heresy to reality itself. The gods were the creators of all things: of time, of life, of reason, of being. They were omniscience embodied. And yet the Wicked One was saying that something had been born outside even their understanding.

“When my power clashed with theirs,” the god continued, “something took form. It can only be a crystallization of that divine collision: a raw embodiment of power itself. The gods would never seek to use such a thing. They are creatures of stasis. But neither could they destroy it. It is beyond even their grasp. More likely… they sealed it away, somewhere on this world.”

“I-I can’t see how that’s possible…” Yutis whispered.

“You will find it,” the Wicked One commanded, His voice now deep enough to make the void quake. “Find it, and offer it to me. I shall wield it to surpass them all.”

“B-But, my lord! Such a thing must be… unspeakably dangerous!”

“Dangerous?” The god’s laughter rolled like an earthquake. “Perhaps. Or perhaps not even danger itself could touch me. I care not. For the sake of vengeance, I will seize it, whatever the cost. With that power, I will ascend beyond all gods… and at last create the world I desire.”

As that vow reverberated through the infinite darkness, Yutis bowed low, trembling beneath the pressure of divine hatred.

“Yes, my lord! I, Yutis, will find it and bring it before You. I swear it upon my very soul!”

“Good. I am counting on you…”

And with that final murmur, the god’s form dissolved—His vast presence fading into the black, as if the Darkness itself were reclaiming Him.

※※※

“Aah-choo!”

I, Seiichi, sneezed so violently that my neck cracked.

At that moment, I was on my way toward the so-called Wailing Land, following the directions Al had given me. Everything had been going smoothly until my nose suddenly started itching.

“Ugh… great. Someone’s probably talking about me,” I muttered. Not that I’m famous enough for rumors to go around… right?

As I mulled it over, Saria glanced up at me, worry clouding her bright green eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh… yeah. Probably.”

“‘Probably?’” Al frowned, her tone a mix of teasing and skepticism. “It’s hard to imagine you catching a cold in the first place. Actually, are you even capable of getting sick?”

“I can! Right? Wait. I can, can’t I?”

“You don’t even know?” she said flatly, her gaze fixed on me as if I had just declared that I didn’t understand how breathing works.

Come to think of it, she had a point. Since coming to this world, I couldn’t remember a single time I’d gotten sick. Sure, I’d almost died once—thanks to the Forest of Endless Heartbreak and those lovely poison mushrooms—but illness? Not once.

Well, whatever. If I really can’t get sick, that’s great news. I mean, yeah, it might mean I’m not exactly human anymore, but let’s not split hairs.

Al shielded her eyes from the blazing sunlight, squinting toward the horizon. “Still, the sun’s brutal out here…”

She wasn’t wrong. The sun burned bright and merciless overhead, and the landscape around us had begun to change as the grass thinned and the trees faded away, leaving the earth barren and dry. No monsters, no people, just wind and heat.

“Hey, Seiichi,” Al said, glancing over at me with a grimace. “Aren’t you hot in that outfit? Just looking at you makes me sweat.”

“Huh? Not really.”

She groaned. “You can’t be human.”

“That’s harsh!” I protested, though she kind of had a point. Thanks to my stats—and, well, the gear I was wearing—heat didn’t really bother me.

Al wiped sweat from her brow, while Saria, walking beside us, didn’t seem the least bit affected.

“See?” I said quickly, desperate for backup. “Saria’s fine too, right?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. I don’t really feel hot.”

“Yeah, but Saria’s a monster,” Al shot back.

“Oh, right.”

Sometimes I forgot. She looked so human most of the time that it was easy to overlook the fact that she was, well… a gorilla.

Feeling the grave I’d just dug for myself, I decided it was time to change the subject.

“Hey, uh… the Wailing Land we’re heading to is near the Demon Kingdom, right?”

“Yeah,” Al replied with a nod.

“So does that mean we’ve already crossed into demon territory?”

“Nah. The route we’re using is the most direct path straight to the Wailing Land. We’ll reach it without ever setting foot in the Demon Kingdom.”

“Huh… I wonder if Routier and the others went through the Demon Kingdom instead?”

“Most likely,” Al said, shading her eyes as she looked toward the horizon. “The Wailing Land sits right next to it. Safer to travel that way, too, especially with the Demon King’s army escorting them. Protecting the royal line was their original job, remember?”

“Ah, right…”

I’d completely forgotten about that. The Demon King’s army wasn’t just a military force; it was their duty to guard Routier and her kin. Kind of easy to overlook, considering they’d been trained directly by the first Demon King, Lucius himself.

“Now that I think about it,” I said, frowning, “if her father’s sealed so close to their borders, why hasn’t anyone unsealed him yet?”

“That’s… a good question,” Al admitted. “Maybe they didn’t have a way to break the seal? Or maybe it’s something only you can do?”

“Me? Why would I be the key to unsealing anything?” I waved a hand. “Besides, if that were true, why did Routier and the others go ahead without me? It doesn’t make sense.”

Both of us tilted our heads, equally lost in thought, until Saria’s voice suddenly rang out, sharp and alert.

“Hey! There’s a monster!”

“Huh? Oh, right. Now that you mention it, it feels like ages since we’ve seen anything alive.”

Of course, that wasn’t technically true—we’d been surrounded by people before setting out—but as the landscape grew harsher and emptier, the world had gone eerily still. No humans, no beasts… just endless stretches of cracked earth and heat shimmer.

When I followed Saria’s gaze, I spotted a creature that looked vaguely like a two-humped camel. The difference was in its humps: they glowed a deep, molten red, rumbling and spitting embers like miniature volcanoes.

The instant its gaze locked onto us, hostility flared in its eyes.

I didn’t waste time. “All right… let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

I activated Analysis.

“Huh… ‘Camel-Daruma, Level 402’?” I squinted at the name hovering above its head. “Daruma? Isn’t that what those round, red Japanese dolls are called? Where’s the ‘Daruma’ part supposed to come in?”

Before I could make sense of it, the creature began trembling violently.

“Hiiiii-hin!”

“Wait… That’s a horse whinny?!”

It looked like a camel, sure, but camels don’t sound like that! Even my donkey doesn’t… well, okay, my donkey talks, so maybe I’m not one to judge. While I was still reeling, the monster’s twin humps began to swell like volcanoes. In the next instant, they erupted, sending fountains of magma spewing into the sky.

“Whoa?!” I stumbled back, bracing myself for the inevitable rain of molten death. But instead—

“Hiiiii-hiiiin!!”

“Wait, what?!”

The magma poured straight back down onto the camel’s own head. I blinked in disbelief. Did it really just… dump magma on itself? The molten liquid splashed across its body, cooled instantly, and hardened into a black shell. In seconds, the creature’s once-lean frame had turned into a smooth, round lump of lava, with only its camel head poking out on top.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered. “Now, it turned itself into one of those little round dolls…”

The monster tilted its head proudly, the only part of it that could still move, as if showing off its new shape.

“Hi-hin.”

“That smug look… Ugh, you’re proud of this, aren’t you?!” Grinding my teeth, I glared at the creature’s unshakable grin. That face is so punchable. Still, I had to admit, curiosity won out over irritation. “But, uh… how exactly are you supposed to attack like that now?”

“…”

We just stood there, staring each other down, the smug camel-ball radiating self-satisfaction, and me radiating deep confusion.

A cold breeze drifted between the Camel-Daruma and me. Which was odd, considering we were standing in the middle of a blazing wasteland.

“Hiiiii-hiiiiiin!!”

“You’re just… yelling at me now?! That’s your move?!” I exclaimed. Apparently, the thing had no real means of attack. It threw its head back, mouth wide, and from within came a pink, fleshy-looking sac, followed by a stream of thick white liquid. “Oh, gross! What even is that?!”

“Hey,” someone said.

“Huh?”

“Hi-hiiiiiiin?!”

Before I could process what was happening, Saria, who had somehow shifted into her gorilla form without me noticing, strode forward and flattened the poor monster with a single punch.

“Uh… Miss Saria? That was… merciless.”

“He threaten. I strike.”

Ah. The Law of the Jungle. Pure and simple.

While I stood there, half-stunned and half-impressed, Al, who had stayed silent through the whole bizarre encounter, let out a weary sigh.

“Honestly… it was a monster, so yeah, killing it makes sense. Still, you didn’t really need to, you know? It wasn’t doing any harm. Anyway, can we move on? I only stuck around because you wanted to watch the damn thing.”

“Oh… uh, right. Sorry about that.”

Apparently, she’d been humoring me. I really need to stop getting distracted by stupid monsters.

As we left the scene, I couldn’t help thinking again about how wildly diverse the creatures in this world were. There were so many strange species that it was almost impossible to be surprised anymore.

But none of us—not me, Al, or Saria—stopped to question the fact that even that ridiculous Camel-Daruma had been over level four hundred. If we had, maybe we would’ve realized sooner why no one had ever dared break the seal so close to the Demon King’s land.

Chapter 6: Unknown Monsters

“Faaah… man, that was a good nap.”

“Ah! Lord Vitor!”

The man they called Vitor the Resonant, one of the Divine Apostles of the Cult of the Wicked One, yawned and scratched his head as he rose to his feet. Around him, the lesser Acolytes stationed at the Wailing Land snapped to attention, their spines stiffening as though his casual awakening demanded reverence.

Vitor, however, paid them little mind. Stretching his shoulders, he strolled over to one of the nearest Acolytes and spoke in his usual lazy drawl.

“So? How’re things looking?”

“Huh? H-how are things?” the Acolyte stammered, thrown off by the question.

“Yeah, you know. When I came here, Yutis told me all this crap about ‘monster amplification,’ and ‘a sealed Demon King,’ and whatever. But that’s pretty much all I know.”

Within the Cult of the Wicked One, the hierarchy was absolute. At the pinnacle stood the Wicked One himself. Beneath that godlike being were the Divine Apostles: entities granted power beyond mortal comprehension. Below them were the Acolytes, who in turn were ranked internally by strength and usefulness.

The researchers assigned to the Wailing Land were hardly warriors. Their combat skills were negligible, but their scholarly value—especially in magical biology and forbidden technology—earned them a rare degree of autonomy. Still, they were considered part of the organization’s lower tiers.

To have a Divine Apostle standing in their lab was akin to a mortal audience with a god. And yet, this “god” seemed to have no idea what was happening here. That alone was enough to leave them speechless.

Vitor raised an eyebrow at their silence. “Hey, I’m asking you a question. You’re not planning to keep secrets from me, are you?”

“N-No, of course not!”

“Then start talking,” he said, waving a hand toward the cavernous room around them. “You’ve got all kinds of interesting toys lying around here.”

His golden eyes swept the laboratory with open amusement. Towering glass capsules lined the chamber wall to wall, filled with luminous liquid that shimmered like mercury. Suspended within each tank was a sleeping creature, mutated forms Vitor had never seen before, even in his long, blood-soaked existence.

The place didn’t look like it belonged to this world at all. The sterile glow, the alien hum of unseen machinery; it was more reminiscent odf a realm beyond the stars.

“Damn,” Vitor muttered, whistling low. “All this is… Yutis’ handiwork, huh?”

“Y-Yes, Lord Vitor! I’m surprised you could tell.”

He smirked. “C’mon. You think I wouldn’t notice? Half this stuff doesn’t exist on this planet. Only Yutis could’ve hauled it here. Not like any of us could just walk off this rock. Even with all our power, immortality doesn’t mean much when there’s no way to leave. Only Yutis, and maybe that freak Genpel, can manage that. And even then, Genpel can’t do it without Yutis’ help.”

He said it casually, but the room grew cold at his words. To talk about traveling beyond the world as easily as crossing a street—to suggest that their cult had already gone beyond planetary limits—was to remind everyone just how far above them these “Apostles” truly were.

“I see… makes sense,” Vitor muttered, his voice a low rumble of vague interest. Then, jerking his chin toward the nearest tank, he added, “So what’s the deal with this thing?”

The Acolyte he addressed flinched but hurried to answer. “Y-Yes, Lord Vitor. The creature you see in this chamber is a new species of monster, born from extracting and splicing the genetic material of this world’s native beasts. We combined those with the highest compatibility to create… something superior.”

Vitor cocked an eyebrow. “So you can’t just mix whatever you want together and hope for the best?”

“Ah, no, my lord. Even among monsters, genetic compatibility must be respected. If we ignore those natural limits, the result collapses; the body simply can’t sustain itself.”

“Then why not have Destora deal with the ones that don’t make the cut?” Vitor said with a lazy grin. “He could just wipe out the failures until only the strongest survived. Problem solved, right?”

The Acolyte’s expression twisted painfully. “W-Well, actually, one of us did try to ask him that once…”

“Oh?”

“He was killed immediately.”

“Ah. Yeah, that tracks.” Vitor nodded, as though that were the most natural thing in the world. “Now that I think about it, there’s no way that maniac would bother lending a hand with something like this.”

“N-No, of course not. Still, even without his help, the creatures we’ve produced here are immensely powerful. The plan is to use them as instruments to harvest negative emotion, the energy our Lord feeds upon.”

“Right, right. Monsters that serve as emotional batteries. Efficient.” His tone was a mix of amusement and approval. “So how close are you to making that work?”

“Almost there, Lord Vitor. Just a few more calibrations.”

“Good. Then that takes care of the monster part.” Vitor turned, golden eyes gleaming faintly in the sterile light. “Now about the Demon King that’s supposed to be sealed here… What’s the story there?”

“It would be faster to show you, my lord.”

At the Acolyte’s prompting, Vitor followed him toward a wide mechanical screen, another piece of technology far beyond this world’s limits, undoubtedly smuggled in by Yutis. The Acolyte adjusted several switches, and the black surface flickered to life, displaying moving images.

There, captured in grainy, distorted clarity, was the ongoing research surrounding the sealed Demon King: ritual diagrams, pulsating restraints, and glimpses of overwhelming power trapped within containment rings.

As the recording played, Vitor’s easy smirk vanished. His golden eyes widened, reflecting the shifting light of the screen.

“What in the hell…” he breathed. “That thing—”

“This,” the Acolyte said, gesturing toward the flickering projection, “is the culmination of our research. Unfortunately, the Demon King’s ego remains intact, so its abilities haven’t reached full awakening yet…”

“Oh, come on,” Vitor muttered, a sharp grin curving his lips. “You’re telling me this isn’t complete? Then what happens when it is?”

The Acolyte straightened, his expression filling with unearned pride. “Once fully awakened,” he said, pausing for effect, “it will be invincible.”

“Ha!”

The single, derisive laugh carried enough weight to make the room tremble. Vitor’s amusement bled into something darker, and when his eyes lifted to meet the Acolyte’s, their golden gleam turned predatory.

“Invincible, huh?” he murmured. “Guess we’ll have to test that, won’t we?”

No one answered. The air itself seemed to tighten under his gaze. A thick, suffocating wave of killing intent rolled off him, pinning every Acolyte in the chamber where they stood. Not one of them dared to breathe.

Then, just as suddenly, the pressure vanished. Vitor exhaled, stretching his neck with an easy smile as if nothing had happened.

“Relax. I’m just messing with you. I don’t think it could beat me, but killing the damn thing might be annoying. Makes me wonder, though…” His grin widened, sharp and boyish at once. “If Destora fought it, how do you think that would go?”

He appeared genuinely amused by the thought. His eyes still sparkled with excitement as he pointed at the image of the Demon King.

“Anyway, hurry it up. Get this thing finished, and figure out a way to deal with whatever’s left of that ego. I want to see the final product for myself.”

“Y-Yes, my lord!”

“And tell me something,” he added, glancing at the projection again. “You’ve gone and created this monster, but is it actually going to listen to orders? Because if it turns on us, that’ll be a pain in the ass.”

“We’ve already accounted for that, my lord. In the early stages, we embedded a control mechanism directly into its body.”

Vitor snorted. “Hah. If that thing really works, then calling it ‘invincible’ was a stretch, don’t you think?”

The Acolyte froze, words failing him.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Vitor said, his tone light but his gaze unblinking. “Still, I’m curious. Make sure you test that control thoroughly. I want proof it works.”

“Y-Yes, Lord Vitor!”

“Good. Then I’m off.”

The Acolyte blinked. “Off? You’re leaving already?”

When Vitor suddenly turned and started walking toward the exit, every Acolyte in the chamber froze in confusion.

A few stunned seconds passed before one of them finally snapped out of it and called after him, panic edging his voice.

“L-Lord Vitor! Where are you going?! If you wish to rest, your quarters here are still prepared—”

“Idiot,” Vitor interrupted with a grin, not even glancing back. “If I’m heading out, what other reason could there be?”

“Huh? What do you—oh!”

Before the Acolyte could finish processing his realization, the shrill wail of sirens ripped through the facility.

“What was that?”

“R-Report from the outer perimeter! We’ve detected humans!”

“Humans?! Impossible! No one but us could ever reach this place!”

“It must be a mistake—”

“It’s no mistake!” the panicked Acolyte blurted, his face pale. “And, um… there’s something else.”

“Well? Spit it out.”

“There… there are only four of them!”

“What?!”

“Four people made it all the way here?!”

“That’s absurd!” another snapped, disbelief spreading through the room. “Forget that. Are the facility’s camouflage systems active?”

“I’ll check immediately!”

“No, hold on,” a senior Acolyte interjected, already moving toward a console. “This might be a rare opportunity. Send out one of the prototypes. Let’s see how our creation handles live targets.”

“At once!”

The laboratory erupted into motion as alarms blared, terminals flashed, and researchers shouted orders across the floor. Yet Vitor, the center of their hierarchy, barely seemed to notice. His golden eyes were already fixed somewhere beyond the reinforced walls, as though he could see straight through them.

“Four, huh?” he murmured, a delighted smile tugging at his lips. “Didn’t think there were still people out there capable of reaching this place.”

He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous.

“Well then…” His grin widened. “Let’s see if they can entertain me.”

And with that, his form shimmered and vanished without a trace.

※※※

“There’s nothing… absolutely nothing here!” Lulune shouted, throwing up her arms as the dead, cracked earth stretched to the horizon.

“Lulune, you’re too loud,” Routier said quietly, her gaze steady as she scanned the empty flats.

Having left several days before Seiichi’s group, Routier and her companions had finally reached the outskirts of the Wailing Land. The journey from the royal capital of Terbelle had taken weeks, and with camping gear strapped to her back, Lulune glared at the wasteland as if it had personally offended her.

“Can you blame me for yelling?!” Lulune snapped, rounding on Origa. “We left before Master Seiichi came back because you said there’d be new, undiscovered food here! Am I wrong?!”

“You’re not wrong,” Origa replied in her usual flat tone, blinking up at her. “I was just surprised you were so quick to leave Seiichi-oniichan behind for a snack.”

“Then what is this place supposed to be?!” Lulune demanded, sweeping an arm across the barren view.

“A wasteland,” Origa said.

“I can see that!” Lulune barked, then turned in a slow circle, taking in the cracked soil, the heat shimmer, the total absence of even a single blade of grass. “There isn’t even a weed, let alone something edible!”

“Still,” Origa murmured, tilting her head, “if it’s an unknown land, then it’s unknown. Nothing existing here is… not strange.”

“Gaaaah! I’ve been tricked!” Lulune howled, clutching her head.

“Um… is she okay?” Zora asked, hovering beside Origa with a worried look. “She’s growling like she’s about to shapeshift into something else.”

“She’s fine,” Origa said without missing a beat. “It’s normal.”

“Is she always like this?!” Zora squeaked.

“The glutton never learns. That’s the problem,” Origa added, then turned to Routier with a small, careful look. “By the way… Routier-oneechan.”

“H-Huh? Oneechan?” Routier blinked, startled by the address.

“Mm. Oneechan,” Origa repeated. “Is that bad?”

“N-No, not bad,” Routier said, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “It’s just… I’m an only child. No one’s ever called me that before.”

“If it’s not bad,” Origa said simply, “then it’s fine.”

“Y-Yeah. So… what is it?” Routier asked, blinking at Origa’s sudden question.

“How much farther to our destination?” Origa asked in her usual soft monotone.

“Oh, that? We should be almost—”

“E-Everyone! There’s a monster!” Zora’s urgent cry cut her off.

At once, Routier and Origa snapped into battle stance, weapons raised and eyes scanning their surroundings.

Up ahead, in the direction they’d been traveling, the silhouette of a quadrupedal creature emerged from the shimmering air.

“Strange,” Origa murmured, narrowing her eyes. “I didn’t sense its presence.”

“I didn’t either,” Routier said, her expression tightening. “But if Zora says it’s there, then it’s real.”

“The atmosphere feels like those undead-type monsters we saw in the dungeon where Zora-oneechan used to live,” Origa added quietly.

“Oh… that explains why we couldn’t feel its presence.” Routier’s eyes widened with understanding, then refocused on the approaching figure.

The creature lumbering toward them resembled an elephant from Earth, but its body was covered in yellow fur. Its face was like that of a baboon, yet its eyes were sunken and dark, empty like voids. Two twisted horns jutted from its forehead, and around its neck grew scales that shimmered like a dragon’s hide.

“What… is that?” Routier breathed, her voice a low whisper of awe and unease.

None of them had ever seen anything like it before.

Maintaining her stance, Origa raised a hand, activating her Analysis skill. A moment later, her eyes went wide.

“What?”

“Origa-chan?” Zora asked, worried by the sudden change in her tone.

Origa’s lips parted slightly as she continued staring at the creature, her voice dropping to a tense whisper. “I used Analysis just now… but its name came up as a string of random symbols. Gibberish.”

“Symbols?” Routier echoed.

“Mm. And more than that—” Origa’s hand trembled slightly as she lowered it. “It doesn’t have a level.”

“No level?!” Routier gasped, the color draining from her face.

The moment Origa finished speaking, both Zora and Routier fell silent.

In this world, every living being bore an absolute truth: the idea of a level. Gaining strength meant increasing that number; challenging it could lead to death. A creature without a level was either an outsider from beyond this world or a divine being above it: a god.

Not a lesser god like the Serpent God from Zora’s dungeon, nor the Black Dragon God who once slept beneath the mountains, but something far greater. A true god, the kind that shaped creation itself.

Even the restless spirits drifting through the underworld were free of levels, for they no longer lived. And then there was Seiichi, who hadn’t stepped beyond the system but caused the system itself to flee from him. His level existed in name only, a hollow symbol without meaning.

Because of that, none of them had ever encountered an enemy that truly lacked a level. Seiichi might have qualified, but since no one could even read his status anymore, they had never realized it.

Now, faced with this unknown monster, the group could do nothing but stand frozen.

The creature’s empty eyes turned toward them.

A low, broken groan rose from its throat, making Origa’s heart seize.

This cold feeling… Something’s wrong. I need to get out. Now!

Following her instincts, she threw herself sideways as the ground she just occupied exploded in a cloud of black mist, writhing and swallowing the air before dissolving into nothingness.

“W-What was that?!” Zora cried out, eyes wide.

“I don’t know,” Routier said sharply, sword raised. “But it’s hostile.”

“I-I figured that much, but still…” Zora’s voice cracked as the thing shifted again.

“No good,” Origa muttered, her gaze fixed. “We don’t have enough information.”

Each time they tried to move closer, the creature’s hollow gaze would snap toward them, and the black miasma would lash out again, forcing them back.

They couldn’t tell what it was, how it attacked, or even if it could be touched.

“Should we wait for Seiichi-oniichan?” Origa asked softly.

Routier hesitated, biting her lip. If this really is what it looks like… waiting might not be enough.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

Just as Origa had said, if Seiichi were here, everything would be resolved in an instant. Or rather, Routier thought grimly, he probably wouldn’t even realize there was anything to solve in the first place.

The truth was, they had no idea where Seiichi even was, whether he had already set out or was still halfway across the world. That uncertainty gnawed at her. The thought that the Cult of the Wicked One might already be tampering with the dungeon that sealed her father sent a chill down her spine.

It was the same fear she’d felt back when she hadn’t been strong enough to even approach this land. And now that she finally possessed the power to stand here, that anxiety had only grown sharper.

Even so—

“You’re right,” Routier said at last, steadying her voice. “If we push ourselves and fail to even reach the dungeon, it’ll all be for nothing. So for now, we should—”

Before she could finish, the mysterious creature in front of them suddenly went flying.

“What the—?!” she gasped.

“What are you doing?!” Zora shouted in disbelief.

“You glutton… Reckless as always,” Origa murmured flatly.

Somehow, without any of them noticing, Lulune had slipped past their formation and launched herself straight into the monster’s guard, driving a thunderous kick square into its torso.

The impact sent the creature spinning through the air, and before gravity could reclaim it, Lulune leapt high after it, twisting midair in a perfect forward somersault. Using that momentum, she brought her heel crashing down on its abdomen.

The ground roared as a shockwave rippled outward, carving a crater deep enough to swallow a carriage. At its center, the monster lay limp and unmoving.

Landing lightly at the crater’s edge, Lulune’s eyes sparkled as she gazed down at her handiwork. “Dinner!” she declared triumphantly.

“Idiot…” Origa muttered, pressing her fingers to her temple.

Routier and Zora could only stand there, mouths agape, watching as the dust settled around their overzealous companion.

Sometimes, Routier thought with a weary sigh, it’s not the monsters we have to worry about. It’s her.

Chapter 7: The Glutton’s Wrath

“Well, I have to admit, for a moment there I thought it was all over… But look at that! There really was an undiscovered delicacy waiting for us!”

While the others were still tense from the mysterious monster’s sudden attack, Lulune, utterly unbothered by the danger, had followed her appetite and kicked the creature halfway across the field. After endless days of trudging through wasteland without so much as a bird in sight, the first living thing she’d seen in a while had sent her excitement through the roof.

Origa pressed a hand to her forehead, exhaling softly. “Glutton, I have to ask… Does that really look like food to you?”

“What else could it be?” Lulune shot back, arms folded, looking proud of herself.

“Wrong question,” Origa said flatly. “Are you planning to eat it?”

“Of course I am!”

“Are you sane?”

“Perfectly sane.”

“No… definitely insane.”

“I said I’m sane!”

Lulune’s indignation was almost childlike, but Origa ignored it and continued, her tone as calm and cold as ever.

“Glutton. This monster… it’s unknown. You understand that much, yes?”

“Hm? Well, sure, I’ve never seen one like it before.”

“Then you realize how dangerous it is to charge headlong into a creature you don’t understand?”

Lulune waved her hand dismissively, as if brushing away the warning. “You say that, but I saw plenty of things like this back where I used to live.”

“What?” Origa blinked, genuinely startled.

Her shock was mirrored by Routier and even Zora, who had spent years surviving inside a dungeon. None of them had ever heard anything like that.

Unfazed by their confusion, Lulune went on as if discussing the weather. “Hmph. Before my master bought me, I lived in a so-called monster shop. Beasts like this were brought in all the time. The shopkeeper nearly died every single time, but it wasn’t that rare.”

The three of them stared at her, speechless.

Monster shop? What kind of place sells things like this?

They didn’t even know why Lulune would have lived there in the first place. After all, they still had no idea she was, technically, a donkey.

Ignoring their collective disbelief, Lulune turned back to the fallen monster, eyes sparkling once again.

“Well then… Back when I was still at that monster shop, the shopkeeper always got in my way before I could take a bite. But this one… What kind of flavor does it have, I wonder?”

Drool ran freely from Lulune’s lips, her golden eyes gleaming with unrestrained hunger. Origa, Routier, and Zora could only stare, frozen somewhere between horror and disbelief.

And then, another voice joined the scene.

“Well, well… what kind of sloppy face is that supposed to be?”

“—?!”

The four of them reacted instantly, leaping back in unison. None of them had sensed anything: no killing intent, no presence, not even the faintest disturbance in the air. Yet suddenly, a man stood where no one had been a heartbeat before.

His skin was bronzed, his black hair fell in uneven strands around his sharp features, and his golden eyes glimmered like those of a predatory cat. With a wry smirk tugging at his mouth, the man—Vitor, the Resonant—regarded them lazily.

Origa’s pulse spiked. She could barely steady her breathing as she asked, voice low and measured, “Who are you?”

“Who, me?” He tilted his head, almost amused, then let his expression twist into something cruel. “I’m Vitor, ‘the Resonant.’”

“Resonant?” Origa echoed the name, but before she could finish, his figure flickered and vanished.

What?!

“Where did he—?”

“Right here.”

“Ugh!”

“O-Origa!” Routier cried, but by the time she turned, it was already over.

Vitor’s voice sounded right behind her, smooth and mocking. Origa spun instinctively, crossing her forearms to guard, just as an impact like a battering ram exploded against them.

The world blurred.

A shockwave rippled through the barren ground as Origa’s small frame was hurled backward, sliding across the cracked soil. When she forced her eyes open, she caught sight of Vitor standing exactly where she had been, one leg still raised and the afterimage of his kick lingering in the dust.

He had moved behind her, struck, and returned to his stance, all in the span of a blink.

Too fast!

Origa hit the ground hard but, with a grunt, managed to stabilize herself in midair and land on both feet. Her arm throbbed, yet she kept her balance; the dust still tingled on her tongue when Zora and Routier reached her, concern evident in their expressions.

“Ar-Are you all right?!” Zora panted, reaching for Origa.

“Mm. I’ll manage,” Origa said, forcing a smile though her arm burned where it had taken the strike.

“Let me see your arm. Demon King’s Light,” Routier said, and before Origa could answer, she felt the warmth of Routier’s palm. A soft, black light—strangely gentle—spilled from Routier’s hand and pooled over the swollen knot on Origa’s forearm. The pain faded as the light worked; the bruise smoothed, redness retreating until the skin looked almost as it had a moment before.

It doesn’t hurt anymore…

Origa breathed, surprised. “Routier… thank you,” she added quietly.

“Don’t mention it,” Routier replied, pulling her hand back as if the spell’s comfort were still a fragile thing. Her gaze flicked to Vitor, sharpened with suspicion. “But why did you strike without warning, then hold back while I healed? What’s your purpose here?”

“W-What is he?” Zora demanded, scowling at the bronzed man who had appeared like a shadow and struck like a gust of wind.

Vitor yawned, large and lazy as if they were merely an annoyance tugging at his sleep. “Purpose? I came for fun.”

“For fun?” Routier repeated, incredulous. Her hand tightened on her sword hilt.

Vitor’s grin soured into something like disappointment. “Ah, too bad. You lot are hopeless.” He shook his head, genuine boredom creasing his face. “Why didn’t you attack while I was off-guard? Why wait while she healed? Wanting even a little amusement—that’s the entire reason I hadn’t finished you off.”

His tone left no doubt that he’d expected a show. He looked them over with casual contempt: at Routier, the Demon King’s daughter; at the strange woman with a serpent’s air; at the black-furred catkin who watched from the shadows; at the others clustered with wary expressions. Vitor’s voice softened with a sneer. “You came all the way out here, and you think you can keep your motives secret? You’ve made your purpose clear just by being here. That’s enough. You’ll die for it. That’ll be the end.”

He spoke as though the outcome were already decided, as though their lives were a minor amusement whose result had been foretold from the moment he blinked awake.

“Enough out of you!”

Routier’s fury broke like a flame, and with a sweep of her arm, she called forth her power. “Demon King’s Hands!”

The ground split under the surge of magic. As before in Zora’s dungeon, vast hands of black fire erupted upward, but now there were two. Her recent growth had doubled the spell’s form and strength.

The twin hands crashed down with blistering heat, claws of flame tearing the air apart as they descended upon Vitor.

He didn’t even flinch. His golden eyes remained half-lidded, his expression bored. With a lazy flick of his arm, he easily brushed off the attack.

The black fire vanished like mist. A violent wind burst from the backlash, slamming into Routier’s group.

“Ugh! N-No way!” she gasped, struggling to brace herself against the gale.

Vitor’s voice cut through the wind, calm and contemptuous. “You really don’t get it, do you? If I hadn’t spoken first, that beastkin of yours would’ve died from my opening kick. I could’ve torn through you all before she even healed. The only reason I didn’t was to enjoy it a little longer. To see if there was anything worth using among you.”

His eyes drifted past them, uninterested now, toward the monster Lulune had killed earlier. A faint scowl touched his lips.

“Tch. When I saw that thing back at the facility, I thought they’d made something interesting. Turns out it’s just garbage.”

Anger roughened his tone as he lifted his hand and slashed it through the air. A column of raw magic dropped from the sky like a hammer. In an instant, the creature’s corpse vanished, erased so cleanly that not even dust remained.

“Well. That’s one mess cleaned up.” Vitor rolled his shoulders, eyes glinting. “Now, from here on out—”

“Huh?”

“What?”

A confused voice cut through his words. Frowning, Vitor turned toward the sound.

As Vitor called out, causing Origa and the others to instinctively leap back, Lulune stood motionless. She had been silently lost in thought since the very beginning, staring blankly into the bottom of the crater. All this time, even in the face of a mysterious creature’s corpse, her mind had been singularly fixated: How should it be cooked? What type of dish would best enhance its flavors?

“My meal… Where’s my unknown delicacy?” she mumbled, eyes wide in disbelief.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me… Even now?” Origa muttered, utterly appalled. The battlefield had just witnessed a titanic clash that had torn the earth apart, and yet Lulune hadn’t registered any of it. She hadn’t even noticed.

Lulune didn’t react to Origa’s dismay. Instead, she kept scanning the now-empty crater, desperately searching for even the tiniest trace of the monster that had completely vanished, not even dust remaining.

“W-Where did it go? That long-awaited, utterly unknown taste… where has it disappeared to? This wasteland is so desolate! I’ve waited so patiently, hoping and waiting… and now that I’ve finally located my meal… where is it?”

“L-Lulune-chan… this is too much…” Zora murmured, covering her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes.

To her, raised as she was within the dungeon and untouched by the harsher cynicism of the outside world, Lulune’s sorrow was heartbreakingly pure, so raw that Zora couldn’t help but tear up.

For more grounded individuals like Origa and Routier, her reaction was simply beyond comprehension. They were stunned speechless, caught somewhere between pity and exasperation.

Vitor, too, was no exception.

“Man… I thought it was bad enough you hadn’t even noticed us this whole time, but seriously? You don’t get what’s going on here at all, do you?”

“‘What’s going on’? My meal disappeared… isn’t that what matters most?” Lulune replied, eyes still roving over the desolate ground.

“You really don’t get it,” Vitor sighed. Unable to resist, he jabbed back with a dry remark, but quickly reined himself in. Squaring his shoulders, he fixed Lulune with a cold, unwavering stare. “All right then. Clearly, we can’t move forward with you around. I’ll start by erasing you, just like that creature. And once that’s done—”

“What did you just say?”

“Huh? Wha—GAAAGH—!”

Before Vitor could process what happened, an explosive force slammed into his gut. One moment, he was standing, and the next, he was airborne.

The blow was devastating. It crushed nearly all of his internal organs in a single strike, and blood gushed from his mouth in a crimson spray.

As he stared in shock at his own battered state, eyes wide with disbelief, Vitor caught sight of Lulune still standing on the ground, one foot lifted and frozen mid-kick.

“You’re the one who erased it,” she said coldly.

“W-What are you—”

Before he could even finish the sentence, Lulune vanished again. An instant later, a brutal impact slammed into Vitor’s side, sending his airborne body hurtling sideways like a ragdoll.

In that fleeting moment, Lulune had launched herself into the air and delivered a flying kick, knocking him across the battlefield.

Origa and the others could only stand there, speechless, completely overwhelmed by the sudden shift.

“Y-You… what are you—gah?!”

“It was you.”

As Vitor tumbled to the ground, trying to push himself upright, Lulune came down like a hammer. Her heel crashed onto the top of his skull in a vicious axe kick, driving him headfirst into the earth.

The impact was catastrophic. Just like the mysterious monster she had downed before, Vitor’s body carved a massive crater into the ground beneath him.

Lulune landed lightly on her feet, completely unfazed. Standing over his shattered frame—his bones now pulverized along with his organs—she looked down at him with chilling detachment.

“Grudges over food,” she said, voice low and final, “are absolute.”

“I don’t get this girl,” Origa muttered under her breath.

That one line perfectly summed up her state of mind. Nothing about Lulune made sense: her origins, her strength, her motives. She was an enigma wrapped in a hunger.

Still, now that the seemingly insurmountable threat of Vitor had been brought down, it felt like they could finally breathe again, just for a moment—

And then it happened.

“—Kuh… ku hu hu… ku ha ha… KAH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!”

The grotesque laughter erupted from the figure who should’ve been unconscious, or perhaps worse: Vitor himself.

Origa and the others recoiled in disbelief, and even Lulune’s brow twitched upward in surprise.

Vitor slowly, almost mockingly, began to rise from the crater.

“Damn… that hurt. Oh yeah, that really did something! You pack a punch, you know that? Ha! This is great! You’re fun, girl!”

Vitor rose to his feet, his entire body still drenched in blood, bones broken from head to toe after Lulune’s brutal assault. But from every open wound, faint trails of smoke began to rise, and before their stunned eyes, the damage began to reverse.

The flesh stitched itself back together. The bones, crushed just moments ago, realigned and healed with a sickening ease.

Routier’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Th-The wounds… they’re vanishing?”

“I’m sure I kicked him hard enough,” Lulune muttered, frowning deeply. She gave her foot a casual shake, almost as if testing the sensation that still lingered from the impact.

Vitor let out a short, amused laugh at her comment.

“Oh, you definitely did. Hell, I was impressed… didn’t expect you to hit that hard. You busted up everything in me. Bones, guts, the whole damn lot.”

“Then why,” she asked sharply, eyes narrowing, “are you still standing?”

“Because that’s just how this body works.”

He cracked his neck with a loud pop, rolling his shoulders as if testing out a freshly tuned machine. By this point, his frame was completely restored, as if nothing had ever happened.

Then, with a feral grin stretching across his face, he stepped forward.

“Well then… now that I know you’re worth my time, let’s kick things up a notch. Go on… entertain me!”

Lulune didn’t flinch. Her gaze turned icy, lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Fine by me. Honestly, I wasn’t satisfied with just that small taste of revenge, so go ahead. Take every last bit of it.”

And with that, Lulune and Vitor collided once more.

Chapter 8: Seiichi and the Others, Forever Unchanged

“Still… the destination’s a lot farther than I expected,” I muttered absently.

“Hm?” Saria looked over, tilting her head.

It had been about three days since we’d left Terbelle, and the thought just slipped out. Judging by Saria’s nod, though, she was feeling the same way.

“Now that you say it, yeah! We’ve been walking forever!”

“Right? I knew I wasn’t imagining it…”

“But maybe it feels long because there’s no one around? Not even any monsters.”

“Ahh, good point…”

She was right. Ever since we ran into that Camel-Daruma thing, we hadn’t encountered a single monster.

In fact, there was nothing out here, not a single living creature, not even a blade of grass.

It didn’t really affect me, but watching the sweat pour off Al and Saria made it pretty clear how hot this place was. I mean, it’s not like I can’t feel the heat because of my equipment or anything, okay? I actually took it off only because Al said I looked too hot just standing there. But even without it, I didn’t feel hot at all. Honestly, at this point, I’ve pretty much given up on pretending I’m still human.

Even with the blazing sun directly overhead, I wasn’t sweating in the slightest.

If I keep thinking about it, it’ll start messing with my head, so let’s just put that aside for now.

Still, Saria was probably right; the trip felt so long because there was nothing around us. No distractions, only endless, empty heat.

That’s when Al, who had been listening in with an exasperated look, chimed in.

“You keep saying we’ve walked a lot, but in terms of distance covered per day? It’s not that impressive. It just feels longer because there’s nothing to break it up. Saria’s right.”

“Really? Huh… I guess the only time I remember going on a long trip was when we headed to Barbodel Magic Academy.”

“Sometimes I forget, given how ridiculous you are in combat, but Seiichi, you’ve never actually done long-term travel before, have you?”

“Wait… did you just call me ridiculous?!”

It’s true, though. When it comes to raw power, I’m completely off the charts, but when it comes to basic adventuring experience, I’m basically a newbie. The contrast is pretty wild when I stop and think about it.

As I stood there stunned by Al’s blunt commentary, she gave me a dry, half-lidded stare.

“Try reflecting on your own actions before acting shocked.”

“Isn’t this normal behavior?”

“It is not normal!”

This is absurd. I mean, if anyone here should count as your average, everyday guy, it’s gotta be me… right?

“Well, whether or not you count as normal doesn’t really matter at this point.”

“W-Wait, doesn’t matter…”

“Just remember one thing. When you go on an expedition like this, you’re supposed to camp out and sleep in the field. So, what have we been doing?”

“Uh… we teleport back to Terbelle with magic, sleep in a comfy inn bed, then start again from the same spot the next day?”

“Right. And you still think any of that is normal?”

What the hell… Somewhere along the line, I apparently stopped being a normal person. And I wasn’t even trying to…

Now that she mentioned it, she was totally right. I hadn’t made any preparations for sleeping outdoors. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that I might need to. Meanwhile, Al always kept a full camping kit stocked in her item box, ready for whenever we needed it.

This is the difference between someone who’s been an adventurer for years… and some clueless schmuck pretending to be one.

And I was never going to forget the look on Al’s face—blank, lifeless, spiritually transcendent—when I casually said, “Huh? Why not just teleport home and come back tomorrow?”

I mean… why wouldn’t you choose the more comfortable option? If there’s a bed, I’m gonna use it. That’s just common sense. Let’s all agree on that, okay?

Anyway, I was pretty sure Routier and the others who left ahead of us were actually camping out like proper adventurers. Zora probably didn’t know much about that stuff, since she grew up in a dungeon, and Lulune… well, she was a lost cause. But even if Routier had that sheltered noble girl vibe, she’d been traveling with members of the Demon Lord’s Army for a while. There’s no way they wouldn’t have taught her how to handle herself in the wild.

Besides, they’ve got Origa with them, the one who seems the most used to traveling alone. She probably had it covered.

“Still… doesn’t the ground around here feel kinda uneven to you?” I asked, frowning.

“Yeah, totally! One wrong step and I might trip,” Saria agreed, watching her footing carefully.

“Right? And even if we haven’t seen any living creatures, it’s starting to look like something’s been through here.”

At first, the land had been nothing but sun-scorched earth, dry and cracked beneath our feet. But now, the terrain had changed, riddled with holes as if something had burrowed into it. Just as Al had pointed out, we started noticing bones scattered here and there. Animal bones, by the look of it. Whatever had once lived here was long gone, but the traces remained.

We were still in the middle of that conversation, walking and scanning our surroundings, when something suddenly caught our eyes.

A massive shape loomed ahead, its form looking strangely… plantlike.

“Hm? What’s that?” I asked, squinting into the distance.

“No idea,” Al replied flatly. “Well, considering we haven’t seen a single plant this whole time, and now one huge, ridiculously obvious one shows up right in front of us… Yeah, no one would blame us for being a little suspicious,” she added, narrowing her eyes.

She had a point. Up until now, not a single blade of grass had grown in this wasteland. And yet, there it was, a giant plant towering in the distance. Anyone in their right mind would be on high alert.

As we got closer, the whole thing came into view. The “flower” at the top of the plant looked exactly like the muzzle of a cannon: big, round, and ominously hollow. It practically screamed that it was going to shoot something.

“Uh… I mean, I’m pretty sure we’re all thinking the same thing here, but… we should probably avoid that thing, right?”

“Obviously,” Al replied, her cheek twitching as she nodded.

I mean, come on. It’s obvious now… Those holes in the ground? That plant’s the culprit. Case closed.

I immediately turned on my heel, intent on putting some distance between us and that botanical death machine. But then, just as we were about to move, the giant plant turned, aiming its cannon-like flower directly at us.

“—! Get down!” Al shouted.

We dove, scattering in different directions just in time. A fraction of a second later, something tore through the air at terrifying speed, blasting straight into the spot we’d been standing.

When the dust settled, we looked back at the impact site, hearts pounding. Embedded in the ground, still smoking, was something about the size of a human head: a massive seed, by the look of it.

“W-Whoa, that scared the hell out of me.”

“Yeah… anyway, let’s just stay away from—”

But before I could even finish, the seed began to split open.

Right before our dumbfounded eyes, it grew. Rapidly.

Within seconds, a replica of the original cannon-flower plant burst from the ground, stretching up toward the sky just like the first.

That’s how it spreads?! It shoots seeds like artillery and grows copies of itself?! That’s cheating!

“Y-You’ve gotta be kidding me…”

Al winced, her cheek twitching with tension as she spoke. But honestly, I felt the exact same way.

And then, just as we were still reeling from the first blast, both the original plant and the one that had just sprouted fired again, launching more of those cannonball-like seeds straight at us!

“Whoaaaaaa?!”

“W-What are we supposed to do against this?!” Al yelled as she desperately ducked and weaved to avoid the barrage.

Every time we dodged one of the shells, it would hit the ground, sprout a new plant, and that one would start firing too. The attacks multiplied by the second!

“Tch—take this!”

Suddenly, Saria’s face shifted, becoming unmistakably gorilla-like, as she timed a blast of fire magic to intercept an incoming seed.

The seed exploded midair under the intense flames, but from the shattered husk, a spray of smaller seeds burst out like buckshot, raining down on us from above!

“Waaah!”

“Saria?!”

“I’m fine!”

The seeds had detonated almost right in front of her, but she’d somehow managed to dodge all of it in the nick of time.

Still… what the hell is this plant?!

It fires seeds like cannonballs, and if you try to burn them, they explode into a scattershot of mini-seeds? That’s totally insane!

While I struggled to process the absurdity, Al swung her axe, batting aside one of the incoming seeds as she shouted, “Burning them makes them explode, but if you use a normal weapon, you can just knock them away!”

“G-Got it!”

No, but really, did Lulune and the others actually make it through this area? They must’ve, right? There’s no way they got taken out by these things, right? Those bones we saw earlier. That’s not them, right? That’s not how this story ends, is it?!

The thought alone was enough to send a shiver down my spine. I shook my head quickly, trying to banish the image. Nope. Not going there. Bad luck to even think it.

But that left one question still burning in my mind: what even is this plant?!

Dodging another incoming blast, I activated Analysis.

“That tells me NOTHING!”

Come on… Question marks for both the name and level? Seriously?

And why was this thing appearing here of all places? That kind of stat screen is something you’d expect from a final boss, not just some random roadside encounter.

I couldn’t even get close due to the endless barrage of seeds. Every time I dodged one, a new plant appeared. And with it, even more projectiles. It was a literal nightmare.

I mean, I’d probably be fine even if I got hit… but if I start casually tanking explosive plant artillery, I’m really just drifting further and further away from being human. And I’d prefer not to dwell on that, thanks!

“Damn it! If we can’t get close, we’ve got no way to fight back!” Al shouted, swatting away a seed mid-air with her axe.

Watching her, an idea suddenly popped into my head, so I went for it.

“Take this!!”

“Seiichi?!”

As another seed flew toward me, I stepped forward and swung—using the blade of The Rapier of Festering Hatred, also known as Black, like a baseball bat.

With a sharp crack, the seed launched back the way it came, whistling through the air and slamming directly into the flower-shaped muzzle of the plant that had fired it.

A perfect hit. Like a line drive back at the pitcher.

Apparently, the other plants hadn’t been expecting one of their own to get taken out. Whether or not they had emotions, they definitely paused, their movements slowing as if stunned by what just happened.

Did I just confuse a plant?

I raised a hand to shield my eyes and watched the seed soar into the distance, genuinely impressed.

“Ooh. Not bad. That actually worked.”

“The moment you’re involved, worrying about situations like this really is a waste of energy,” Al muttered, sighing like she’d aged ten years in five seconds.

Wait… is that a compliment? I think that was a compliment!

I started swinging The Rapier of Festering Hatred again, half-hoping another seed would come flying my way. Just then, I noticed Saria making the same shading gesture with her hand, watching the seed disappear over the horizon, until her gaze sharpened and she spoke up.

“Oooh… hey, wait. Seiichi?”

“Hmm?”

“The seed flew off somewhere… do you think it’s okay?” Saria asked, shading her eyes as she looked after it.

“Huh?”

“I mean, didn’t those seeds sprout new monsters? Or whatever those things are, when they hit the ground?”

“Ah…”

I hadn’t even thought about that until she said it.

W-Wait. Did I just mess up?

Right on cue, the surrounding plants, until now frozen in confusion, suddenly sprang back to life as if jolted by the memory of what they were doing. And this time, their attacks came faster, harder, as if driven by anger.

“See?! This is what happens when you take down their buddy in some weird-ass way!” Al shouted while furiously deflecting another incoming seed with her axe.

“They’re mad about that?!”

And hey, “weird” is sort of rude, don’t you think?

Still, I couldn’t deny it. They were probably pissed because I nailed one of their own with its own seed.

What stuck with me more, though, was what happened afterward. The plant I smacked down had disintegrated into particles of light like always… but this time, it hadn’t left behind a single drop item.

I remembered Zora saying back in the dungeon that drop items weren’t guaranteed, but until now, every monster I’d defeated had dropped something. Always.

So what gives? Could it be… that these things aren’t actually monsters?

Thinking back, even that shady monster shop Lulune used to work at had UMA—unidentified mysterious animals—mixed in.

I wanted to stop and piece it all together, but the plants clearly weren’t going to give me time for that. First things first: I needed to wipe out the ones in front of us.

“Hey, Al!”

“Hah?! What now?! I’m kind of busy dodging for my life here!!”

“S-Sorry! Just… There aren’t any human settlements nearby, right?”

“Does it LOOK like there are?! We didn’t see a single living creature on the way here, much less a village!”

“Fair enough.”

In that case, I guess it’s fine if I keep knocking the seeds away like before.

I mean, fire magic could work too, but unless we burn them completely, those things just explode into more seeds, which makes everything worse. Besides, Al and Saria were already overheating in this environment. No point adding more fire to the mix.

And if there aren’t any people living around here, then even if one of those seeds takes root somewhere else, no harm done, right? Honestly, if anything, some greenery might actually benefit this sun-baked wasteland a little.

“So with that settled… Batter Seiichi’s stepping up to the plate!”

“Take this seriously!!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Despite getting scolded, I kept swinging The Rapier of Festering Hatred like a baseball bat, sending seed after seed flying back to its source. One by one, the monstrous plants exploded into light and vanished, clearing the area at last.

Chapter 9: Vitor the Resonant

“Hmph!”

“Guhah?!”

Lulune’s sharp kick slammed squarely into Vitor’s gut, carving a clean, gaping hole through his abdomen.

To any normal eye, it looked like a fatal, undeniably lethal blow. Blood sprayed from Vitor’s mouth as his body went flying. But even before he hit the ground, smoke began pouring from the wound. In mere seconds, the gash had sealed shut, and his body returned to its original, unblemished state, as if nothing had ever happened.

“Aaah, that’s the stuff… not bad at all! More! Come on… entertain me more!”

Wearing a look of unhinged ecstasy, Vitor charged with blinding speed. Lulune, in contrast, wore the expression of someone watching a mosquito buzz around her ear: annoyed, bored, and just a little bit tired of this nonsense.

She didn’t dodge. Instead, she waited calmly, then delivered a flawless spinning kick to the side of his skull just as he closed in.

There was a sickening crack as his skull fractured, the impact surely enough to pulverize even his brain. However, moments later, he rose again, completely unscathed.

Lulune let out a weary sigh.

“You talk a big game, but you’re nothing special. Just lie down already.”

“Don’t be like that! Don’t leave me hanging now! Come on… give me more!”

Despite the obvious, severe pain he felt each time he was struck, Vitor only grinned wider, completely unaffected. His regenerative ability might be supernatural, but so was his insanity. His ability to laugh through such agony sent a visible shiver through Origa and the others, their faces twisted in disbelief.

And yet… Lulune alone remained unfazed.

In fact, as she watched him, a flicker of familiarity appeared behind her eyes.

He reminds me of someone… No, of several someones… back at the guild headquarters, with Seiichi.

Vitor continued to charge again and again, relentless in his madness. His speed was utterly beyond what Origa or anyone else in their group could handle, but Lulune remained composed. Without even breaking a sweat, she effortlessly parried every attack, answering each one with a counter as elegant as it was destructive.

He regenerated. She remained untouched.

No matter how many times Vitor rushed her, he never landed a single blow. Meanwhile, Lulune struck back with cold efficiency, every hit delivered with the dispassion of someone swatting at flies.

Eventually, even she had had enough.

With a voice like a razor slicing through the air, she spat the words at him:

“That’s enough. I have more important things to do. I don’t have time to waste on the likes of you.”

“Lulune!”

Routier’s breath caught.

She had thought Lulune was only ever focused on food, on flavor, on chasing strange creatures for the next taste. But here she was, clearly remembering why they’d come to the Wailing Lands in the first place: to rescue Routier’s father.

So she didn’t forget… Routier thought, overcome with emotion.

And Lulune was right. They couldn’t afford to waste any more time. The Cult of the Wicked One might already be doing something to her father. Every second counted.

The appearance of Vitor had only deepened their suspicions, and with it, the urgency to reach their destination grew.

It wasn’t just Routier and Zora who looked at Lulune differently now. Even Origa, who was usually the harshest critic when it came to Lulune’s antics, was staring at her with an expression of surprise and, perhaps, renewed respect.

“I need to find a whole new kind of unknown food, as soon as possible!”

“Lulune…”

Yeah. She hasn’t changed at all.

At that moment, Vitor, blasted away yet again for who knew how many times, got back on his feet. Still unscathed. Still smiling. His body showed no sign of wear, no fatigue, no indication that his regeneration had any limits. He dusted himself off like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Tch… The problem with you run-of-the-mill types is that you don’t appreciate the beauty of a moment like this. But I get it. I do,” he said, cracking his neck.

“Huh?”

“You don’t get it? Fine. Let me spell it out for you.” His lips curled into a twisted grin. “I’m saying I’ll stop holding back.”

“After all that pathetic flailing, you still have the nerve to act like you’ve been toying with us?”

Lulune narrowed her eyes, her expression tightening. She had no idea where he was getting this absurd confidence from, but she could already tell she wasn’t going to like the answer.

Vitor, seemingly unconcerned by her disdain, casually rolled his shoulders and stretched out his arms as if loosening up for a game. His wolfish smile widened.

“Come on now, you don’t go all out when you’re just having fun, do you?”

He rushed in again. Same movement. Same speed. There was nothing different about it, and Lulune’s expression twisted in visible irritation. She threw another kick, this time with real force, and aimed it straight at Vitor’s stomach.

“Gh—! GAH—!”

“…?! Glutton?!”

But it wasn’t Vitor who went flying.

It was Lulune.

She crashed backward, blood flying from her mouth, eyes wide with disbelief.

The kick had landed. Everyone saw it. Vitor hadn’t dodged. He hadn’t blocked. He had taken it, full-force.

And yet, somehow, he was still standing.

And she was the one sprawled on the ground, a fresh bruise blooming on her abdomen where she had just attacked.

“Wh–What… the hell?”

Even as she swallowed the blood pooling in her mouth, Lulune had no idea what had just happened.

She hadn’t let her guard down. Her strike had connected. She knew it had. And yet, she had been the one sent flying.

She wasn’t the only one baffled. From the sidelines, Origa and the others had seen nothing unusual. One moment, Lulune was on the offensive. The next, she was blown away as if by some invisible force.

As for the likely cause of this bizarre reversal—Vitor—he merely stood there, rubbing his stomach with an expression of mild annoyance.

“Man… soon as I get serious, the thrill’s just gone. No tension, no fun.”

“W-What?” Lulune’s breath was ragged, her voice laced with confusion and anger.

“Huh? C’mon, don’t give me that look. You’re the one who gave me those hits earlier, remember?” he said, flashing a toothy grin. “I just let you take them instead. What’re you looking so close to death for?”

“Gh…!”

Lulune surged forward again, vanishing from view in a blur of speed. This time, her spinning kick struck him clean in the temple before he could so much as flinch.

And yet—

“Gah!”

“Hm? A roundhouse kick this time? Nice shot. It hurts, doesn’t it? Ha ha ha!”

The one who went flying, again, was Lulune.

Worse, the damage was showing exactly where she had attacked him.

Every blow she dealt to Vitor… rebounded onto her own body.

What the hell is going on?!

“You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden. Where’s all that fire from before, huh?” Vitor taunted, arms spread wide as he closed in, as if daring her to try again. His voice was laced with mockery, every word flaunting his inexplicable advantage.

But before he could get any closer—

“I won’t let you!”

A shout cut through the tension.

Zora, who until now had been unable to keep up with the pace of the battle, stepped forward. She tore off the enchanted glasses that had been sealing her power and locked eyes with Vitor.

Instantly, stone began to spread from his feet upward. His toes and heels turned grey, stiffening into solid rock.

“Huh? What the…”

“Demon Lord’s Hand!!”

“Oops.”

With Vitor’s feet turned to stone, he could no longer move from the spot. Seizing the opening, Routier rushed forward and swung a blazing fist, formed entirely from jet-black fire, straight at him.

But Vitor merely leaned back with a casual sway of his upper body, effortlessly dodging the blow.

Not that the hit needed to land. The attack had never been meant to injure him; it was just a distraction, a feint to buy a sliver of time.

And it worked.

In that instant, Origa dashed in, scooped up Lulune, and leapt back, putting much-needed distance between them and Vitor.

“Glutton… You okay?”

“Ugh… U-Unforgivable… I’ve had this throbbing pain in my stomach for a while now, and… and I’ve completely lost my appetite…”

“This is serious…”

Origa’s eyes widened. For Lulune to lose her appetite… That wasn’t just unusual. That was catastrophic.

Cradling Lulune in her arms, Origa rejoined Routier and the others. Meanwhile, Vitor, still tilted backward from his dodge, straightened up with a look of disappointment, then turned his gaze toward them.

“Aaah, seriously? Not only do the small fry jump in with cheap tricks, but even that snake girl over there, who I actually had a tiny bit of hope for, turns out to be a letdown.” He clicked his tongue, eyes narrowing. “Do you people even want to entertain me?”

“‘Entertain’ you? We’re not fighting for your amusement,” Routier replied coldly. “We’re fighting… to move forward.”

“No can do. You’re all going to die here. That’s the only outcome.”

“T-That’s not true!” Zora shouted. “I sealed your legs! If you try to move, they’ll shatter!”

Vitor responded with deep, amused laughter, completely unbothered.

“Ha ha ha! You think you sealed my legs? What a joke! Those ‘eyes’ of yours must be blind!”

“Wh-What are you… huh?!”

Zora froze.

Unbelievably, the stone that had crept up Vitor’s legs was gone.

There was no trace of petrification. No stiffness, no discoloration. His legs looked perfectly normal, as if nothing had ever happened.

“N-No way…”

Zora wasn’t the only one stunned. Even Routier and the others were shaken by the sight.

Normally, the petrification status was absolute. Once a person had fully turned to stone, they were essentially dead unless someone else used a rare alchemical solvent or powerful magic to reverse it.

So how is he just… standing there? Like it never happened?

In this world, petrification was universally regarded as one of the most dangerous status ailments, right alongside paralysis. Unlike more common afflictions, its effects were difficult to reverse and could render even the strongest helpless in an instant.

That said, if only a part of the body, like a hand or foot, was petrified, the condition could often be cured by the person themselves using magic or a potion, without relying on anyone else.

Vitor’s foot had clearly turned to stone.

And yet, he hadn’t used magic. He hadn’t applied any potion. He’d done absolutely nothing… and still, the petrification was gone.

Zora stood there in a daze, unable to comprehend what she’d just seen. Vitor, meanwhile, flashed her a savage, toothy grin.

“More importantly… are you sure you’re not worried about your foot right now?”

“Huh?”

Zora’s heart skipped a beat. She glanced nervously down at her leg and froze. Somehow, without her noticing, her foot had turned to stone.

“No… no way…”

“I’ll fix it…” Origa said calmly, already reaching into her pouch to retrieve a curative item.

“Do you think I’ll let you?” Vitor growled.

There was no chance he’d stand by quietly.

The instant Origa moved, he charged forward with ferocious speed, closing the distance in a heartbeat.

“Not happening!”

Routier fired a spell to intercept him, but her magic missed; he was too fast, too fluid, his body impossible to track with the naked eye.

“Heh. Too slow. Now then… say goodbye to your foot.”

“Tch! Gah?!”

“Huh?”

Lulune had forced herself up again, blood still trailing from her lips, and launched another desperate strike at Vitor.

Just like before, the impact rebounded straight onto her. Her own attack carved into her body, and she went tumbling across the ground once more.

Vitor glanced down at her coldly, sighing in irritation.

“Just as I thought. As soon as I get serious, you all fall apart. Acting tough when you’re this weak… it’s pathetic. You’ll never overcome my power.”

“That’s not something you can just decide…”

“Huh? Oh?”

Before he could react, Origa was already behind him, silent as a whisper. She slipped into position and locked her arms around his neck in a chokehold.

Origa wound one of her legs around Vitor’s, locking him in place as she tightened the chokehold. It wasn’t just about cutting off his breath; she was physically restricting his movement.

From an outsider’s perspective, it might have looked like a reckless, suicidal move. But Origa wasn’t just anyone anymore.

After challenging a dungeon alongside Seiichi, she’d become one of the Transcendants. Her stats were far beyond the norm. And she had one more plan in mind.

“Zora… Routier. Now.”

“Y-Yes!” Zora responded, eyes sharp.

“Got it,” Routier exclaimed, gathering her strength.

“Take this,” Lulune growled.

Using the moment of opportunity created by Lulune’s strike, Zora, who had just been healed by Origa, turned her uncovered eyes toward Vitor. He was still trapped, held firmly in Origa’s grip.

Normally, a petrification gaze like Zora’s would risk affecting anyone in its line of fire, but her power worked only on whatever her gaze directly landed on. Origa, being smaller and mostly obscured behind Vitor’s bulk, was safe from the effect.

This time, Zora wasn’t aiming for his legs; she was aiming to kill.

Her gaze locked on Vitor’s face, and sure enough, the stone began to spread.

“H-Huh?”

Vitor’s confusion turned to panic as his skin cracked and greyed. His cheeks, nose, and brow turned rigid, the petrification crawling upward from his eyes.

Still holding tight, Origa spoke softly, her voice calm and clear.

“You didn’t dodge our glutton’s attacks… But while you were getting hit with Zora’s petrification just now, you dodged Routier’s spell.” She narrowed her eyes. “Your ability only works on one opponent at a time. That’s why you couldn’t nullify both Zora’s petrification and my chokehold. You couldn’t reflect them both.”

“Y-You… little brat!”

Vitor’s face twisted in fury, but the motion froze as the stone overtook him. From his eyes up, his entire face was encased in grey, the petrification creeping down toward his jaw.

“And to finish you off—”

“I’m going to burn you alive.” Routier stepped forward, her eyes blazing.

Behind her, it wasn’t just a black flame-wreathed hand. A towering giant of jet-black fire materialized, rising like a demon born of vengeance.

“You’ll burn with me!” Vitor screamed, thrashing in Origa’s grasp as the last of his mobility slipped away.

“I’m only going to burn you. Isn’t that obvious?”

“Damn you—GRAAAAAAAHH!!”

The black-flame giant behind Routier lunged forward, its colossal arms reaching to crush and incinerate Vitor once and for all…

But in that very instant—

“—Just kidding,” Vitor said.

“Huh? Wait—ghk?!”

“O-Origa-chan?! What—ah!”

“Origa?! Zor—GAAAAAAHHHHH!!”

It all unraveled in a single breath.

Origa was suddenly yanked backward, an invisible force strangling her by the neck. Her fingers clawed at empty air, desperately trying to pry it loose. Zora, who had just turned her gaze into a weapon of stone, was now completely petrified herself, statue-like, unmoving. And Routier was engulfed by the very flames she had summoned to destroy Vitor, the fire turning on her in writhing black heat. The demon-flame giant didn’t stop. It didn’t hesitate. It didn’t care who it was burning.

In mere seconds, the entire coordinated counterattack was torn apart. And Vitor stood among their fallen forms… completely unscathed. Not a bruise. Not a burn. He gazed down at them with casual cruelty, like a child looking over broken toys.

“So? How’s it feel?” he said, his voice low and taunting. “You had that moment, didn’t you? That little spark. Maybe we can win. And then… bam. Gone.”

He crouched beside Origa, who still writhed weakly, trying to breathe, her limbs trembling. Vitor leaned in, a twisted smirk on his face.

“You know, it’s always the small fry who think they’re clever. They believe that if they think hard enough, maybe they can land a hit on someone stronger. But you know what?” He tapped her forehead with a single finger. “They’re small fry for a reason.”

His voice dropped to a whisper.

“Doesn’t matter how smart you are. A weakling is still a weakling. That’s just how the world works. Right?”

“Ghh… ah…”

“What’s wrong?” he whispered mockingly. “Can’t breathe? Funny. That’s exactly what you were doing to me, wasn’t it? Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to do things to others that you wouldn’t want done to yourself?”

He chuckled, then turned away, disinterested now that the fun had ended. His eyes wandered across the fallen girls: Zora frozen in stone, Routier unconscious and scorched, Origa limp and gasping.

“Aaah, what a letdown. Not a single one of you had what it takes to entertain me.”

“No…”

Barely lifting herself off the ground, Lulune stared at the aftermath before her.

No… this can’t be… This can’t be what happened.

Just then, as if suddenly remembering her presence, Vitor turned his gaze toward Lulune. A slow, sinister smile curled across his face as he began walking toward her.

“Well, well… That’s right. I almost forgot,” he said, voice brimming with mock cheer. “You gave me such a good time earlier. I owe you a little something in return, don’t I?”

“Wh-What are you…”

“What do you mean, what?” he replied, chuckling. “I’m going to give back exactly what you gave me. Blow for blow.”

As he grinned, seemingly lost in some twisted fantasy of revenge, a chill ran down Lulune’s spine. For the first time since arriving in the Wailing Land, she realized it: this man in front of her was more dangerous than Demioros, the Apostle who had once attacked Barbodel Magic Academy. Far more dangerous.

This… this is bad.

She tried to move, but her body wouldn’t respond. The lingering damage from before was still weighing her down, leaving her completely helpless.

Vitor advanced one step at a time, savoring every twitch, every flicker of fear in Lulune’s eyes. He lived for this: the moment his prey realized just how absurdly powerless they were. How broken the rules of reality had become.

Vitor still didn’t understand.

He didn’t know what true absurdity looked like. He didn’t know that there were people in this world for whom even “impossible” had already given up.

There was a human—if he could even still be called that—for whom both reason and common sense had long since raised the white flag.

“Well then… shall we get star—GUUUUUUUAAAAAAUUUUUUUUHHHHH?!?!”

“?!”

Suddenly, something faster than sound collided with Vitor’s gut.

The impact twisted his body into a violent spiral, launching him like a ragdoll through the air. And whatever had struck him didn’t stop; it tore right through his abdomen, breaking the sound barrier with a thunderous boom that gouged a deep scar into the earth.

“Gah—! Wh-What the—GHHK?!”

Before he could recover, another supersonic projectile smashed into his cheek, snapping his head around with such force that his neck spun a full rotation.

It was the kind of attack that should’ve been fatal. And yet, like before, his body instantly regenerated.

Even so, he staggered as he rose again, unsteady, gasping.

“Wh-What is this… What’s happening?! The wounds are gone. I healed! I healed, didn’t IIIIII??!!”

It didn’t matter. Whatever it was, the assault didn’t let up.

From above, below, from every direction, it rained down.

One after another, a hailstorm of supersonic strikes tore through Vitor’s body like divine punishment.

Lulune stared blankly at the scene before her… until she suddenly sensed one of those flying objects heading straight for her.

She still couldn’t move, her body frozen from the earlier damage. So instead, she caught the high-speed projectile with her mouth.

“Guh—?! Hm?”

Despite having been launched at supersonic speed, she bit down, crunching the thing in her mouth without a second thought. It was absurd, really, but somehow, not out of character for her.

As she ground it between her teeth, she paused, tilting her head slightly. “Is this… some kind of seed? But what is this taste… this sensation?” Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t hate it.”

After swallowing the strange object, Lulune’s gaze turned back to the sky, following the stream of projectiles that were still barreling toward Vitor.

“This is food. A type of food I’ve never seen before!”

Her hunger ignited like dry grass to a spark.

She leapt into action—still wounded, still shaky—but now driven by a primal need. She began catching the flying objects with her mouth, hands, and even her feet, stuffing them down with wild precision. One after another, she devoured them without pause.

Of course, she couldn’t catch them all. A handful slipped past, continuing their path toward Vitor.

“Tch! I missed another one! What a waste!”

She clenched her teeth. Vitor’s suffering was irrelevant to her; what infuriated her most was that he was getting even a single bite of the unknown food flying through the air.

Curiously… though her body had been battered moments ago, she now stood fully healed. Even more… something strange was happening. A pulsing strength was flooding through her limbs.

Not that Lulune cared. That detail, to her, was utterly trivial.

What mattered was that she was eating something new. Something unknown. And that, above all, was sacred to her.

Even if it wasn’t of this world. Even if it wasn’t meant to be consumed.

“LIKE HELL I’M LETTING YOU HAVE THISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!”

“NOOOOOOOOO, GIVE IIIIIIIIIIIIT BAAAAAAAAACK TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Vitor, impaled by a storm of sonic projectiles and pinned in place, howled in sheer agony, both from the damage and from the sight of Lulune devouring his mysterious tormentors with delight.

Chapter 10:The Glutton Transcends the Cosmos

As the barrage of mysterious projectiles continued raining down, Origa felt the crushing pressure around her neck suddenly vanish. She collapsed forward, gasping desperately for air.

“Kahh! Gahh, guh—haa… haa…” she choked out between ragged breaths.

She clutched her throat, struggling to draw breath. Having been on the verge of blacking out from oxygen deprivation, every gulp of air now burned. What she wanted more than anything was to fall over and rest until her lungs stopped aching, but she knew she couldn’t afford to. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself upright and quickly scanned the battlefield.

What she saw left her speechless.

“Bubububububububububububububuuu!”

“Moreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!”

There stood Vitor, his body riddled again and again by high-speed projectiles so fast even Origa’s eyes couldn’t track them. Beside him was Lulune, puffed cheeks and wild hair flying, shoveling those very same projectiles into her mouth with gleeful abandon.

“Routier… Zora…”

Origa stared at the two with a blank expression.

I saw nothing.

Making that silent decision, she turned away and hurried to Routier’s side, who still lay unconscious on the ground. Pulling out a recovery potion, Origa carefully poured it over her.

“Ugh… Wh-Where am I?”

“You okay?”

“Y-Yeah… Ah! Wait, what about him?!”

“I don’t know.”

“Huh?”

Routier blinked in confusion at Origa’s calm tone, but quickly turned her gaze to their surroundings.

“—Buheh! —Guheh! —Agah! —Pugyo! —Hibeh! —Pupa!”

“NOT ENOUGH—IT’S NOT ENOOOOOOOOOOOOUGH!!!”

“Let’s pretend I didn’t see that.”

Routier made the exact same decision Origa had.

“Zora…”

“Mhm. I’ll undo the petrification now.”

Drawing a shimmering vial from her pouch, Origa moved to Zora and poured the contents over her. The stone encasing her began to crack and flake away, until finally Zora’s body was freed.

“Hah—! O-Origa-chan! Routier-san! Are you okay?!”

“Yeah. We’re fine.”

“So am I.”

“Th-Thank goodness… Wait, where’s that guy?!”

Zora had good intentions; she truly did. Like everyone else, she was focused on ensuring her friends’ safety. But unlike Origa and Routier, when she glanced toward the chaos just a few feet away… she simply couldn’t look away.

The surreal, unthinkable scene before her was too much for her eyes to ignore.

“U-Um… what exactly is going on over there?”

“Who knows?”

“Wh-Who knows?”

“It was already like that when I woke up.”

“I-I see… So I wasn’t seeing things after all.”

Routier stared off into the distance, as if trying to escape from reality.

After all, the person who had completely thrashed them earlier was now getting torn apart by some incomprehensible flying objects, and to top it off, Lulune—who should have been just as beaten—was eating those flying objects. Her emotional state was more than understandable.

From Routier’s perspective, Vitor was a dangerous threat. Ideally, they would like to take him out while he was getting hammered by the mysterious barrage, but since they still didn’t fully understand his power, they couldn’t recklessly make a move.

On the other hand, ignoring Vitor and moving forward would require them to protect the injured Lulune while navigating through the flying storm, something clearly beyond their current capabilities.

The only silver lining was that none of them had been caught in the chaos… yet.

But even if they were lucky enough to escape, there was no telling what Vitor might still be capable of. He clearly had long-range options.

Unable to act, they could only silently watch the surreal scene unfolding before them. Then finally, the mysterious barrage came to an end.

What remained was a ground carved up like shredded paper, a thoroughly battered Vitor, and Lulune, cheeks puffed out and chewing, yet somehow looking dissatisfied.

“Tch… What a waste… an unforgivable waste! How many of those delicious things did I let escape?! My mouth is far too small to devour them all!”

“The glutton’s talking nonsense again.”

Despite having been completely wrecked just moments ago, Lulune looked full of energy.

Normally, catching supersonic seeds with one’s mouth would be utterly impossible. Still, for Lulune, the embodiment of appetite and a consumer of the Fruit of Evolution, it was just another day.

Still wary of the battered Vitor lying on the ground, Origa and the others quickly rushed to regroup with Lulune.

“Glutton.”

“Hm? Oh, it’s you guys. Are you all right?” Lulune turned toward them, casually brushing off the chaos around her.

“Well… more or less. We were this close to dying just a few minutes ago,” Origa replied, still catching her breath.

“I-I still can’t believe I petrified myself with my own power. How pathetic.” Zora added, looking ashamed.

Before the mood could settle, Origa’s expression grew serious. “Forget that for now. We need to get out of here. I still don’t understand how his power works, but if we can avoid fighting him head-on—”

“Ahh, damn it… You pieces of shit!”

The seething voice cut her off. The group froze and instinctively turned toward the sound. There, already healed from his previous injuries, stood Vitor, his body upright, his eyes burning with hatred.

Once fully standing, he glared daggers at them, the malice in his voice palpable. “Hey, who said you could run? Huh?!”

Origa flinched at the sheer weight of his presence.

“This doesn’t make any sense. What the hell were those things flying at me?! My body’s healed, so why the hell won’t the pain go away?!” Vitor gripped his sides, frustration pouring out of every word. “My body’s been reset over and over again, yet it still feels like I’m being torn apart!”

“Reset?” Origa echoed under her breath, confused by his phrasing.

Vitor scowled at them, then shook his head as if trying to clear it. “No, my ability hasn’t stopped working. I know it hasn’t. That much is obvious; those weaklings started breaking apart just from hitting me. If that bastard who shot those things at me is still alive, there’s no way he didn’t get shredded by the backlash. He should be dead by now. But then… why? Why does my body—this body that should be completely hollow—hurt so goddamn much?!”

As his voice rose to a scream, a violent shockwave of magical energy exploded from his body. Origa and the others braced themselves as the force threatened to blow them away, barely holding their footing.

Back when Vitor first started using his strange ability to reflect damage, Lulune’s attacks had clearly hurt him; he had even said so himself. But now, his twisted expression showed a pain far deeper than anything they’d seen before. His body bore no wounds, and yet his agony was unmistakable.

Bloodshot eyes locked onto them as Vitor let out a crooked, almost deranged grin.

“One more time. I’ll drag you all back into hell one more time. I’ll use the pain you give me to test the limits of my power.”

Vitor staggered toward them with unsteady steps, but his murderous intent was clear. Origa and the others wracked their brains, trying desperately to decide how to act.

Running wasn’t an option; only Lulune had the speed to possibly outrun him. If Vitor targeted Routier, Origa, or Zora, escape would be impossible. Standing their ground and focusing on defense also wasn’t viable—he was simply too powerful. And attacking would only replay the nightmare; his ability would just reflect it all back at them again.

None of them had a solution. Not Origa, not Routier, not even Zora. All they could do was stare helplessly at the steadily approaching Vitor.

All of them, except one.

“If you’re that desperate for stimulation… then I’ll give it to you myself.”

“L-Lulune?!”

Without warning, Lulune stepped forward, arms crossed and feet firmly planted between Vitor and the others, shielding them with her imposing presence.

Seeing her stand tall, Vitor stopped in his tracks and sneered.

“Well, well, look who’s found her spine. Didn’t you just finish eating dirt a few minutes ago? You figured it out by now, haven’t you? You’re no match for me. You can’t even entertain me.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Lulune said flatly. “Now that I’ve eaten that unknown food, the only one who could hope to stop me is my Master.”

“You’re oddly self-aware,” Origa muttered, unable to stop herself from commenting on Lulune’s unnervingly calm assessment.

From Vitor’s perspective, she hadn’t changed at all. He let out a snort of derision.

“Hah! Even if those weird flying things were edible somehow, what the hell does that have to do with your strength?”

“By eating those seeds, I have obtained the universe within my body.”

“What is that glutton even rambling about now?” Origa muttered again, this time with obvious concern, as Lulune deliberately placed a hand on her stomach.

Even Vitor looked confused now, a twitch of disbelief pulling at his cheek.

“Did you just say… the universe?”

“I came to a realization,” said Lulune solemnly. “If I want to consume everything I desire, my mouth alone will never be enough. Therefore, the only option is to create a universe within my body.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Vitor replied, narrowing his eyes.

“Same,” Routier muttered, echoing his confusion.

Despite being enemies, Vitor’s reaction was identical to that of Routier and the others. None of them had the slightest clue what Lulune was going on about. Yet Lulune, utterly unfazed by their reactions, spoke with an air of absolute confidence.

“I don’t need you to understand. Enough with the chatter… Come at me.”

“I’ll kill you,” Vitor snarled.

In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance between them. Channeling his magic and the powers granted to him by the Cult of the Wicked One into his fist, he drove a devastating blow into Lulune’s abdomen.

“Die, you damn glutton!”

“Lulune?!” Origa shouted, horrified. She hadn’t expected her to just stand there and take the hit without even trying to dodge. She immediately tried to rush to her aid.

But—

“H-Huh? Lulune doesn’t look hurt at all?”

“You’re kidding,” Zora breathed.

“I-I could’ve sworn that hit landed.”

If even the ones watching up close were this confused, then Vitor, the one who actually delivered the attack, was beyond stunned.

“What the hell? How are you still standing?! That blow was packed with enough power to sink a continent if I’d aimed it at the ground!”

“It tastes awful.”

“Tastes what now?”

Ignoring Vitor’s disbelief, Lulune sounded genuinely disappointed.

“Just now, I consumed all of your energy, every bit of impact, every trace of force. And I’m telling you… it tasted terrible.”

“What… What are you even saying?!”

“I told you, didn’t I? I’ve created a universe inside my body.”

“That’s not an answer at all!”

He was absolutely right. That made no sense whatsoever. But Lulune let out an exaggerated sigh, as if she couldn’t comprehend how someone could fail to understand something so simple.

“Haa… dealing with idiots is exhausting.”

“Are you looking down on me in this situation?!”

“Listen up and listen well. I’ve created a universe inside my body; more precisely, a black hole. Thanks to this, I can now eat endlessly. And not just that. With the power of this black hole, I can now consume food that is far away—as long as I recognize it, I can eat it. I reached this state by eating that mysterious food from earlier.”

“Even hearing that doesn’t make it any clearer!”

Vitor was utterly lost, but if Seiichi had been here, he probably would have instantly thought of a certain round, pink, and extremely popular character.

“And I also realized something else: food doesn’t have to be taken in just through the mouth. That’s why I’ve transformed my entire body to function as a mouth. This way, I can increase how much I can eat at once!”

“That’s disgusting! And I still don’t get it!”

Even her enemy was calling her gross. At this point, no one had any idea where Lulune was headed in life. Hard to believe she had once been a donkey.

“I don’t need you to understand. Just vanish already.”

“Lulune, wait, no—that’s not okay!”

As if declaring that she’d had enough, Lulune casually launched a powerful kick at Vitor. Routier shouted in alarm, trying to stop her, but Lulune’s attack didn’t slow in the slightest; it slammed into Vitor’s abdomen with full force.

At that moment, Vitor felt an incredible impact and began to grin.

“Ha! Now you’ll—ghobah?!”

Before he could finish his smug taunt, Vitor coughed up a mouthful of blood and collapsed on the spot.

“N-No… way! H-How?!” Vitor clutched his stomach and collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain from injuries that refused to fade, no matter how much time passed. As Origa and the others stared in stunned silence, Lulune alone looked down at him with cold eyes. “W-What the hell did you doooo?!”

“I kicked you. That’s all.”

“J-Just kicked me?! Then why, why are you unharmed?!”

“Don’t say ridiculous things. If I kicked you, then obviously the one who should be hurt is you, isn’t it?”

“N-No! M-My insides are empty! It’s not about organs or anything like that! It’s conceptual. Because I am empty inside, no matter what kind of attack I take, the damage and wounds just revert back to nothing!”

“…”

“And that’s not all! I-I can use this hollow body of mine to resonate any damage I take with the one who attacked me! That’s why… the fact that you’re still standing—”

“You talk too much.”

“Buhela?!”

“Huhh”

With no mercy, Lulune drove a clean kick into Vitor’s face, cutting off his rant just as he was getting to the core of his ability.

She clearly had no interest in what he was saying, but for Origa and the others, it was enough to piece together a rough idea of what Vitor’s power actually was. They still couldn’t quite grasp what he meant by having an “empty body.” Still, they did understand the basics: his hollow form allowed him to force any damage he received to “resonate” back into his attacker, effectively damaging them instead.

While Vitor was known by the moniker Resonant, the explanation suggested that Echo might have been more appropriate. Still, the key difference was that he wasn’t just deflecting attacks; because he had no internal structure, no damage ever accumulated inside him. This allowed him to reflect all incoming harm without any consequence, and that destructive feedback was what earned him the name Resonant.

None of that mattered to Lulune. She had no interest in the intricacies of some enemy’s power. To her, the whole explanation was trivial. She merely looked down her nose at the battered, unconscious Vitor and snorted.

“Hmph. He sure went on about something or other, but to me, someone who has eaten an unknown food from beyond, such things are meaningless.”

“Yeah, the glutton’s seriously messed up.”

At Origa’s words, both Routier and Zora nodded in agreement.

Chapter 11: The Accidental Messiah

“Hm? Hey, isn’t that a person over there?” Saria inquired.

“Huh?”

“I don’t see anything,” Al said flatly.

A little while after we had taken down those weird plant monsters, Saria suddenly spotted what looked like a human figure in the distance. And she was right: there was someone way out there. It’s the kind of thing only someone like Saria, who’s more beast than person, would be able to spot from that far.

Wait. Hold on. I can see it too now. Let’s not dwell on that.

“Could it be Origa and the others?”

“I’m not sure,” Al replied. “They left way before we did. I’d expect them to already be inside Routier’s father’s dungeon by now.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

As I listened idly to their conversation, something suddenly struck me.

“Wait a sec…”

“Hm? What is it?”

“Those seeds I deflected earlier… didn’t they go flying off in that direction?”

“Oh.” Hearing my words, Al’s expression froze in place. Then he turned to me with a very solemn, almost regretful look. “So you finally killed someone.”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO! Don’t say that! Pleaaaaaase!”

Crap, crap, crap! What if… I fired those seeds thinking nobody was around! They were flying at ridiculous speeds! If one of those actually hit someone… No, no, no, I don’t even want to think about it!

“L-let’s go! We’ve gotta hurry and check if they’re okay!”

“Pretty sure it’s too late,” Al muttered.

“Stop saying things like that!!”

I mean, when I hit it, it made a “pop!” kind of sound as it tore through the ground. That’s not normal! But I… I refuse to believe I hit anyone!

But if I did… then I’ll turn myself in… somewhere. I have no idea where exactly, but I will.

No. If I actually killed someone, I’ll go back to the underworld myself and bring them back, no matter what.

With that kind of grim resolve fueling me, we rushed toward the figure in the distance. As we got closer, their shape became clearer… and to our shock, it turned out to be Origa and her group.

“Wait. Origa-chan?!”

“Ah, Seiichi-oniic—!”

The moment Origa spotted us, she ran straight at me and threw herself into my arms.

“W-What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Seeing you, Seiichi-oniichan, made me feel safe.”

“R-Really?”

As I gently patted Origa on the back to calm her down, I glanced around to take in the situation, and…

“Um… what exactly is going on here?” I asked.

“Do you think I’d know?” Origa exclaimed.

“Yeah, didn’t think so.”

“Lulune is stepping on someone, but who is it?”

Just like Saria said, when I turned to look at Lulune, I saw a man in absolutely tattered condition lying at her feet, seemingly unconscious. Routier and Zora were just staring blankly at the scene, as if their brains had short-circuited from trying to process everything.

“Ah! Wait, did something come flying this way earlier?!”

“Huh?”

“I mean, uh… back when we were traveling, there was this plant monster that launched a seed or something, and I hit it back in this direction.”

“That explains it.” Origa nodded, as if everything suddenly made sense. Then, she hugged me again. “Thank you, Seiichi-oniichan.”

“Uh, y-you’re welcome?”

I had no idea what I’d done, but somehow, I was getting thanked for it.

After clinging to me for a little while longer, Origa finally lifted her head and began explaining the situation.

“The guy that glutton is stepping on? He’s with the Cult of the Wicked One.”

“The Cult of the Wicked One?! Oh, right. Wasn’t there something about them possibly using the place where Routier’s father is being held?”

“Yeah. And that guy… he’s an enemy known as ‘Resonant.’ He was incredibly strong.”

“Someone with a title like that… means he’s one of those, huh?”

“Wasn’t he the same type as that other guy? The one we ran into in the dungeon with Helen… ‘Suredeath,’ doesn’t it?”

“Oh! The one who healed us, right!”

“Saria. That guy used to be way more dangerous, you know? He only turned weird because of Seiichi.”

“Because of me?! Well… yeah, that’s fair.”

That guy had some insane ability that could instantly kill any existence or concept. But because my body responded with something ridiculously simple like ‘it doesn’t work, so it doesn’t work,’ his ability didn’t affect me at all.

Come to think of it, if his power had been something like ‘it works because it works,’ then maybe a logical contradiction would’ve occurred, and he wouldn’t have even been able to activate it in the first place. Seriously, what’s going on with my body?

Even though I didn’t mean for it to happen, just thinking ‘Isn’t this a bit unfair?’ caused his ability to morph into some kind of healing power instead. Wait, that means I actually did something good, didn’t I? Well, whatever.

As we exchanged that little banter, Origa suddenly widened her eyes in surprise.

“Seiichi-oniichan, you’ve fought someone like that guy, too?”

“Yeah, sort of. Though we didn’t really fight much… he seemed like he outranked the Servants of the Cult of the Wicked One. More like one of their top leaders.”

“Didn’t he say he was an ‘Apostle’ or something?”

“Ah! Yeah, that was it.”

Man, calling them ‘Apostles’ as the rank above Servants is pretty on-the-nose. Not even sure what the difference is. Well, still a better naming convention than Seiichi Magic or whatever I come up with, that’s for sure!

“I see. That makes sense now. That guy really was that strong.”

“Huh?”

“All of our attacks got reflected straight back at us. And on top of that, he could heal all damage instantly. It was totally one-sided.”

“No way! Are you okay? Are you hurt?!”

Worried, I quickly looked her over again to make sure she wasn’t injured. Origa gave me a small smile.

“I’m okay. Just when I thought it was all over, something strange came flying in from out of nowhere.”

“Huh?”

“Whatever that thing was that came flying in… it tore that guy’s body to shreds. And then, the glutton started eating it… and for some reason, after that, her attacks stopped getting reflected. That’s how we ended up like this.”

“What is Lulune?!”

“That’s what I’d like to know.”

Wait, so the one who got hit by my batted-back seed was that Apostle guy?! No way. Could that be the effect of my ‘Accidental Messiah’ title? I’ve never been so glad to have that weird title!

Still, there’s something strange about this. If the seed I hit actually struck that “Apostle,” or even landed around here, shouldn’t it have taken root and grown into another plant?

Maybe the act of hitting it caused it to lose its viability as a seed? I mean, at sonic speed, it probably got pulverized anyway… Yeah, forget it. Everyone’s safe, and that’s what matters!

Still… Lulune just keeps heading in stranger and stranger directions. Not that I’m in any position to judge, but seriously.

Think about it, she ate the seed I hit, you know? Isn’t that weird?!

“According to the glutton, eating whatever that thing was apparently created an entire universe inside her.”

“What the hell does that even mean?!”

Yep. She’s definitely weirder than I am. A universe inside her stomach? I always thought her belly was like a black hole, but now it’s no longer a metaphor. What even is she anymore? She used to be a donkey, didn’t she?!

Completely baffled by the direction Lulune was evolving toward, all I could do was cast healing magic on everyone except the Apostle currently being stepped on by Lulune.

“Huh? Ah! Seiichi!”

“Seiichi-san, you finally caught up!”

Noticing that their injuries had suddenly been healed, Routier and the others snapped out of their daze and rushed over to me.

“Thank goodness… With you here, I feel so much better.”

“Same here. As long as you’re around, Seiichi-san, I feel safe!”

“I-I’ll do my best to feel safe too.”

Am I really that reliable? I mean, I’m usually the reason things get out of hand in the first place…

Noticing us, Lulune gave the unconscious cultist beneath her a hard kick and trotted over. Yikes… that kick just landed a direct hit on the guy’s most important area… I grimaced at the sight, but Lulune, completely unfazed, approached with sparkling eyes.

“Master! I’ve realized something!”

“R-Realized what, exactly?”

“My mouth has a limit to how much it can eat. So, I’ve decided to eat with my entire body instead!”

“What are you talking about?”

I don’t think I’m capable of understanding a single word she just said.

As I was checking to make sure Routier and the others were unharmed, Al looked down at the frothing cultist and asked, “Glad we found each other again and all, but what do we do with him?”

Routier frowned deeply. “Leaving him here would be dangerous. What if he causes more trouble?”

“Then, should we just kill him? I mean, my attacks didn’t work, so we’d have to ask the glutton to do it.”

“Hey. Why should I have to go through the trouble—”

“There’s unknown food in it for you.”

“I’ll crush his skull right now.”

“Waaait!! Stop right there!” I barely managed to stop Lulune, who’d been tempted by Origa’s bait and was already charging toward the cultist, brimming with enthusiasm. “We should take him to Landzelf-san and have him dig deeper into the Cult of the Wicked One. Last time those cultists attacked, the Apostle was taken away by someone else before we could question him.”

“Oh, right… Now that you mention it, after Seiichi disappeared, we brought that guy Destora to the king, too. This is probably a good idea.”

“But… this guy’s power is the real deal. What if he wakes up while we’re transporting him?”

“That’s where Seiichi comes in. He can just neutralize his ability, right?”

“Then we’re safe.”

“Wait, we’re just assuming I can do that?!”

No, I mean… I get it! It’s better if he doesn’t have that kind of terrifying power in the first place, but still!

Saria tilted her head, puzzled by my reaction, and spoke with innocent curiosity.

“You can do it, Seiichi. Right?”

Yeah, yeah!

“I do not appreciate that kind of confidence!”

The moment Saria said it, everyone nodded in agreement. Which… only made it worse! That’s basically just saying I’m not even human anymore, isn’t it?!

And where did they get the idea that just because they could do it, I could too? When did we decide I operated under the same logic as everyone else? There’s no way it would just work like that!

“Wait, seriously?!”

And that’s the result?!

So that guy just got synced with a rock?! One of the random pebbles lying around?! From executive officer of the Cult of the Wicked One, to a literal stone?!

I mean, I can’t even begin to imagine what kind of stats a rock has. He probably can’t even talk anymore. Then again… maybe he can? Either way, all his powers are gone. No more special abilities, no spells, no skills; just a rock’s status now. Not that I’ve ever checked what that is.

Al must’ve picked up on the absurdity of the situation from my outburst, because he shot me a half-lidded glare full of suspicion.

“I don’t know what just happened, but, did one of your busted Skills go off again?”

“Uh, well… kinda. That cultist over there? From the Cult of the Wicked One? My Skill synced him with a rock or something, so now it looks like he can’t use any of his abilities.”

“What the hell are you even talking about?”

That’s exactly what I want to know!

Seriously, the same status as a rock? I can’t believe those words actually came out of my mouth. I’d be laughing if I weren’t the one saying them.

“A-Anyway! Looks like he’s powerless now, so I’m gonna go drop him off with Landzelf-san real quick!”

“Wait, hey!”

I didn’t give him a chance to stop me. If I let this conversation drag on, it was only going to cement the idea that I wasn’t even human anymore. So, before anyone could say another word, I hoisted the limp man off the ground and cast my teleportation spell, vanishing in an instant and reappearing in the royal capital, Terbelle.

Technically, I could’ve teleported directly into the royal castle… but yeah, that definitely would have crossed the line. I’m pretty sure that counts as trespassing. And besides, Landzelf is the king. I may be getting desensitized to a lot of things, but even I know better than to just drop in on royalty unannounced.

Still, walking through the city with a grown man slung over my shoulder wasn’t exactly subtle.

“After him! Don’t let that maniac get away!”

“Aha ha ha! Gentlemen, weighed down by your heavy armor. Do you truly believe you can defeat me? Come now! Show yourselves before the truth!”

“Shut up, you damn pervert! Today’s the day you go down!”

“C-Captain! A suspicious man is trying to talk to little girls in the plaza!”

“Aaaaaargh! Why is everyone unhinged today?!”

Yeah, maybe I was fine.

Compared to those guys, I barely registered on the threat scale. The city guards were already doing their best to chase down far more troubling individuals. Honestly, good for them. It’s almost heartwarming. Yep, looks like another peaceful day in the kingdom.

Feeling weirdly reassured by that, I finally arrived at the royal castle. And, for some reason… the guards just let me walk in. No questions. No checks.

Wait, really?

I mean, yeah, I just said things seemed peaceful, but come on, that’s all it takes to get into the palace?

Still scratching my head over it, I spotted someone running toward me from deeper inside the grounds. It was Louisse, looking worried.

“Teacher! What’s going on?”

“Oh, ran into what looked like a high-ranking guy from the Cult of the Wicked One while I was out. Lulune already took him down, so I brought him back.”

“I-I see… But if he’s really an executive, restraining him must’ve been incredibly difficult.”

“Nah, it’s fine. My skill synced him with a rock or something. His status is basically… stone-level now.”

“As expected of you, Teacher. You exist in a realm far beyond my understanding!”

HA HA HA! Same here! I’ve got no clue what’s going on either!

With a far-off look in her eyes, Louisse called over a few guards, and I handed off the limp cultist to them. As they carried him away, I glanced back at the entrance, still wondering about how I got in so easily.

“Come to think of it, when I got here, I just walked right into the castle. Nobody stopped me. Is that… normal?”

“Oh, that’s because of who you are, Teacher.”

“That doesn’t even start to address the question!!”

“But it is a valid reason, Teacher,” Louisse said with complete sincerity. “First of all, every soldier stationed in this castle knows who you are. And if, hypothetically, you were to go on a rampage, well… we’d have no choice but to give up.”

“Wait, what?! You’re telling me they let me through because they’ve already given up on stopping me?! I wouldn’t rampage in the first place! And even if I did, you should still try to stop me!”

“At the very least,” she continued, unfazed, “we know that anyone capable of reducing someone’s status to that of a rock… is far beyond our ability to handle.”

“Yeah… I’ve got nothing to say to that.”

Louisse wasn’t wrong. Not even a little.

And once again, I’m being treated like I’m not even human…

Unable to take any more of this weird, respectful fear, I made a quick exit. With a flash of magic, I activated my teleportation spell and returned to where Al and the others were waiting.

※※※

“All right,” Al said the moment I reappeared. “Seiichi’s back. Let’s move.”

I’d barely returned from Terbelle, and the whole group was already packed up and ready to go.

“The dungeon where your dad’s being held… is it close, Routier?” I asked.

“Yes. Really close now. Just a little further.”

“Great! I’m so excited!” Saria chirped, bouncing with enthusiasm.

“Yeah…” Routier smiled faintly, but there was tension behind her expression, her eyes heavy with something unspoken.

Of course, she’s worried. Knowing the Cult of the Wicked One, there’s no telling what kind of messed-up things they might’ve done to her dad.

“All right then,” I said, taking a breath. “Let’s head out.”

Just as Routier had said, the destination came into view not long after we set off.

Ahead of us yawned a massive pit in the earth, with stone stairs spiraling down into its cold, dark, and foreboding depths.

“This is it, right? This is where your father is?”

“Yeah.”

Al scanned the area, then clicked his tongue in disbelief as he stared at the damage.

“Are you kidding me? Your attack shockwaves reached all the way out here?”

Just like Al had guessed, it looked like the seed I batted back had passed through this area, too. The ground was torn up in several places, with deep gashes clawed through the earth and a battlefield-like scar left across the terrain.

As I stood there, staring at the damage with a tight twitch pulling at my cheek, something strange caught my eye.

“Huh? Hey, Routier.”

“What is it?”

“Over there, near the dungeon where your dad’s supposed to be. The ground right next to it… doesn’t it look like there’s a huge hole, like it was scooped out cleanly?”

“You’re right…”

Next to the dungeon entrance, the earth had been hollowed out into a massive, perfectly round crater. It wasn’t jagged or chaotic; instead, it was a smooth, unnatural gouge in the ground. It looked more like something had punched a hole out of the earth than like something had exploded.

That… doesn’t look like my doing. Right? Please don’t tell me it was me again.

“Doesn’t really seem like this one’s your fault,” Al said as she crossed her arms and scanned the area, her brow furrowed.

“Yeah. The seed you knocked back definitely tore things up,” Saria agreed, nodding. “But this is different. It’s almost too clean, like only one spot was carved out.”

“But, who would do something like that here?” Zora asked, her voice low with concern.

Everyone fell silent, thinking. But no answer came.

What made it worse was that the crater wasn’t in the dungeon… it was right next to it. Why carve out just that one area and leave the rest alone? None of it made sense.

“Well… standing here isn’t going to solve it,” I said finally. “We should focus on finding Routier’s father for now.”

“You’re right!” Saria replied, her cheer pushing the group forward.

Still… that crater’s too clean. Too deliberate. I don’t like it.

Even so, we left the mystery behind for now and stepped into the dungeon where Routier’s father was supposed to be waiting.

※※※

While Seiichi and the others descended into the dungeon, disaster was already unfolding nearby at a secret facility belonging to the Cult of the Wicked One.

“What the hell… What is this plant?!”

“Y-Yes, I under—GYAAAAAAHHHHHH!”

“What even is this thing?! Is it supposed to be a plant?!”

The facility had been constructed with high-level optical camouflage, making it virtually undetectable to the naked eye and to even magical senses. It was designed to avoid detection by any means, no matter how sophisticated.

When Seiichi and the others entered the dungeon, they didn’t even notice the building nearby.

And under normal circumstances, not even high-end camouflage could slip past Seiichi’s awareness.

But this time… the building hadn’t just gone unseen.

It was gone.

Without anyone realizing—not Seiichi, not his companions, not even the cultists inside—the entire facility had been relocated. Teleported to another planet.

Yes, the very world itself had intervened. As if deciding, “This subplot isn’t worth wasting Seiichi’s time,” the planet had quietly removed the building and dropped it somewhere else, all without fanfare or explanation.

And so, the crater next to Routier’s father’s dungeon, the one that had puzzled them all, wasn’t from the seed impact after all. It had been created when the structure was forcefully extracted from the earth and flung to an entirely different world.

The new planet had an atmosphere, gravity, and environment similar to their original one; it was technically habitable. But whether that counted as good luck for the Cult of the Wicked One… was highly questionable.

The worst part?

The transfer happened just moments after several of the strange plant seeds Seiichi had deflected had slammed into the building.

So when the Apostles inside finally realized what was happening, it was already too late.

They hadn’t just been hit.

They’d been hit… and launched to space.

Vitor hadn’t been the only casualty. The cultists in that facility had been pulverized just as spectacularly.

Now, stranded in an alien world and under siege by invasive plant life, the surviving Apostles scrambled for cover, panic rising with every second.

But there was one more thing they hadn’t realized yet.

They weren’t alone on this planet.

Unknown ecosystems. Unknown predators. Unknown… monsters.

“—GRRRUUUAAAAAAGHHH!”

“Eeeeeeeeek! W-What now?! What the hell is that thing?!”

“I-It’s a monster! It looks humanoid, but it’s carrying some kind of unknown gear!”

“W-Wicked One! P-Please, save us!”

No matter how loud they screamed, their god would never hear them.

Because this world… this planet… was one of many abandoned by the gods eons ago. A forgotten relic in a discarded corner of creation.

“A-All right! Use the specimens! Unleash the experimental monsters! Let them fight it off!”

“I-It’s the control system, sir!” the Apostle stammered. “We were drawing energy directly from the planet’s core, but the supply has been completely cut off! We can’t control the specimens anymore!”

“What?!” The leader’s eyes went wide. “Y-You don’t mean… No… it can’t be!”

But it was.

The worst possible scenario had arrived.

“GyaaaAAAHHH!”

“Kehehehehehehehehe!!”

“HISSSSHHHH! HSSHHHH!”

One by one, containment capsules burst open, releasing the monstrous bioweapons sealed inside.

Each of them had been designed for perfect obedience. They were imposing and devastating, but only under one condition: they had to remain on their original planet. That’s where the control systems had been calibrated, using energy only that world could supply.

But no one had ever planned for interplanetary travel.

How could they have? Who in their right mind would account for the entire facility being teleported to another world?

Now, with the planetary energy severed, the artificial lifeforms the cult had created no longer had a master to obey.

The failsafes were gone.

And the monsters turned feral.

“They’re out of control! We can’t stop them!!” another Apostle screamed as a mutated beast barreled through a reinforced wall like it was paper.

“This is it! We’re finished! It’s all over!!”

Panicked cultists scattered in every direction, shrieking like madmen as their carefully engineered creations descended upon them without mercy. The air filled with howls, hissing, metal tearing, and flesh rending.

Amid the chaos, the leader, the highest-ranking Apostle in the facility, stood frozen. Staring at the carnage in disbelief.

“Impossible… What is this? What’s happening to us? We were chosen. We were the ones favored by the Wicked One. So why?”

There was only one answer.

One truth that none of them would ever comprehend:

There existed something far more unreasonable than any god.

A human named Seiichi.

And that alone… was the reason they were doomed.

Chapter 12: The Night King

“Hey… we’ve been going down for a while now. How much further is it?” I asked, my voice echoing softly down the stone passage.

We’d already descended deep into the dungeon, where Routier’s father was supposed to be imprisoned, and we were still going. For what felt like forever, it had been nothing but stairs.

The interior wasn’t too dark. Torches lined the stone walls, flickering gently in their brackets. Still, it was strange. Every dungeon I’d explored up to now, even the simplest ones, had chambers, passageways, or winding mazes.

But this one?

Nothing. Not a single fork in the path. No rooms. No monsters.

Just stairs.

“Hey, Routier,” Al said, her voice skeptical. “You sure he’s really down here? It’s been half an hour at least, and all we’ve done is walk downstairs.”

“He’s here,” Routier answered firmly. “I can feel it. There’s no mistake.”

“Grrrgh… Then, at the very least, they could’ve thrown a monster or two in here! How’s a girl supposed to eat like this?!” Lulune growled, tail swishing in frustration.

“Glutton. That’s not normal,” Origa muttered, unimpressed. “Not seeing monsters is a good thing. Means we’re not wasting stamina.”

“If we did run into monsters, we could just eat them and recover stamina. It’s a net gain, really. Plus, we’d get to try something new and exotic.”

“I’m done talking to you.”

With a long, exhausted sigh, Origa turned away.

Yeah… feeding Lulune human food is definitely in my top three life regrets. Never again. Seriously.

As I trudged forward, shaking my head, we reached something new, at last.

A door.

It was the first one we’d seen since entering the dungeon. No elaborate design, no glowing runes or mystical carvings. But it was thick. Solid. Reinforced in a way that practically screamed important.

“This is…” I ran a hand along the frame. “Al, you getting anything off this?”

“Hm? Well, I can’t say for sure without opening it,” she said, narrowing her eyes as she studied it, “but from all the dungeons I’ve crawled over the years… this kinda gives off boss-room vibes.”

“Wait, already? Boss room? Just like that?”

“Yeah, I know it sounds sudden. Normally, I’d say no way. But with dungeons, nothing’s ever certain. Remember the one Zora was in? That place threw logic out the window.”

“Fair point,” I muttered, nodding.

As I absorbed that unsettling reminder, I noticed Routier standing silently in front of the door, her eyes fixed on it with intense focus.

“What’s wrong, Routier?” Saria asked gently, tilting her head.

“My father’s presence… is just beyond this door.”

“Huh?! Y-You mean, Routier’s father is already right on the other side?!” Saria gasped.

“Probably,” Routier replied softly, eyes still fixed on the door.

“Well, whatever the case, if we’re about to meet him, that’s great news, right?” Lulune said with a toothy grin.

“And your real reason?”

“I want to hurry up and get through this so I can eat!”

“Routier… it’s okay. You can just ignore the glutton,” Origa said flatly.

“R-Right,” Routier replied, nodding uncertainly.

“Origa?!”

No, Origa’s got it exactly right.

As Routier pressed a hand to the thick door, Saria stood beside her, gazing at it as well, though with a puzzled expression. Her head tilted slightly, ears twitching.

“Hm? What’s wrong, Saria?” I asked.

“Oh. Uh… hmm… It’s probably nothing,” she said, rubbing the back of her head.

“Nothing? Did something feel off?”

“It’s not exactly that something feels wrong… The presence I’m sensing beyond this door really does feel like Routier’s, so I’m sure her dad’s there. But still… there’s this weird haze, I guess? It’s hard to describe, but it’s not clear-cut.”

“Is that your wild instinct talking again?” Al asked, serious now.

“Yeah. I think so.”

“I see…”

It might’ve sounded like a lighthearted exchange, but no one in the group took Saria’s instincts lightly. Her so-called “wild instinct” had saved us more than once.

If she’s uneasy, we should definitely be cautious going in.

Still… what really caught me off guard was how casually Saria had said, “The presence feels like Routier’s.” Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

But I didn’t sense a damn thing.

Sure, during my time training in the Underworld with Lucius and Zeanos, I’d learned how to detect presences in combat. I could feel when someone, or something, was nearby.

But distinguishing the type of presence? Who it resembled? That was still way out of my league.

How does she do it? It all feels the same to me… Just vague auras and pressure. That’s it.

As I stood there pondering this mostly useless mystery, Routier seemed to reach a decision.

Silently, she placed her hand on the door, her fingers trembling slightly, but her eyes steady.

“Yeah. I’m okay now. Let’s go.”

With her voice steady, Routier pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The rest of us followed close behind, only for the scene beyond to bring us to a stunned halt.

“Huh?”

“What is this place?”

A star-filled night sky stretched endlessly above us.

Just like Zora’s dungeon, this one, supposedly where Routier’s father was sealed, seemed to defy the very laws of space. It wasn’t a room, or a cave, or a passageway. It was… a world. An open, surreal world.

There were no buildings. No walls. Just a vast field of grass under a moonlit sky, dotted with stars too bright, too perfect to be real. Something that looked like a moon hung high above us, but given that we were in another world, it was probably a moon-like celestial body. Still, it bore an uncanny resemblance to Earth’s moon, down to its size and silvery glow.

If it’s that similar in size to the one I saw back on Earth, then… this world can’t be that far from Earth, can it? No, that’s ridiculous. I’m overthinking it again.

As the last of us stepped through, the heavy door behind us slowly creaked shut, then vanished entirely.

“What the—?! The door’s gone?!”

“Mm… Completely gone,” Origa said calmly as she examined the space where it had once stood.

Even as I stood there blinking in disbelief, she was already confirming what I feared. The doorway had simply ceased to exist.

Which meant we were now sealed inside.

I was pretty sure we could still teleport out if it came down to it… and worst-case scenario, I could always blow a hole through the ceiling like last time. But still…

This place really doesn’t feel like a dungeon.

The air carried the crisp, clean scent of the outdoors. A breeze whispered across our skin, cool and gentle, far too natural for an underground illusion. The sensory details were flawless; not just a fabricated simulation, but something alive. And honestly, no rule said these dungeon spaces had to be fake.

Still, compared to what I’d felt in Zora’s dungeon, this place felt even more convincingly “outside.” If someone told me we’d stepped into another world entirely, I might’ve believed it.

Either way, standing around wasn’t going to get us anywhere. We pressed forward into the open field.

Compared to the blistering wastelands of the Wailing Lands, this area felt positively refreshing. A gentle breeze moved through the tall grass, and the open landscape was a sea of green under the starlit sky.

We kept our guard up as we moved, watching for signs of danger.

Then suddenly, Routier came to a stop.

“Ah…”

“Hm? What is it?”

Routier suddenly stopped in her tracks. Her eyes widened, locked on something ahead. The rest of us followed her gaze and saw him. A man stood alone in the middle of the open field, not moving, simply watching us.

He wore the uniform of the Demon Lord’s army, cloaked in a crimson mantle that fluttered gently in the breeze. His build was robust, with a broad, battle-hardened frame. He carried the air of someone who had survived countless wars. His face was sharp and weathered, radiating strength and quiet resolve. But more than anything, what drew our attention were his features: slicked-back hair and eyes that exactly matched Routier’s.

Routier stood frozen, staring at him as if the world had stopped. “F-Father…”

That single word struck the air like a chime in a still forest, and with it, we understood. There could be no mistake. This was the man we had come all this way to find: her father. Now that I really looked, I could see the resemblance in the curve of the jaw, the color of the eyes. Still, I couldn’t help but blink in surprise. He’s way more intense-looking than I imagined. Honestly, I’d expected someone more like Lucius or Zeanos: refined, maybe even gentle. This guy looks like he could bench-press a boulder.

As I stood there processing that unexpected visual, the man took a step forward. He didn’t look threatening. In fact, he smiled with a calm, warm expression that softened his otherwise stern face. He extended both arms, as if welcoming her into an embrace. “It’s been a long time, Routier.”

Her breath hitched, and tears welled up in her eyes. “Father!”

I didn’t know how long they’d been apart. Maybe months. Maybe years. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was this moment, this long-awaited reunion. Routier, unable to hold back any longer, broke into a run. All the emotions she’d held inside—hope, grief, longing—exploded into motion.

But before she could reach him, a voice rang out.

“Wait… Routier! Stop!”

Saria’s voice, sharp and urgent, cut through the air. Then, to our shock, she moved faster than any of us could react, wrapping her arms around Routier from behind and pulling her to a halt. The momentum was broken, and Routier stumbled, bewildered.

“Sa… Saria?!” I stared at her, stunned. “Why are you stopping her?!”

Everyone was frozen with confusion. Even Routier looked back at Saria in disbelief, her face twisted in hurt and incomprehension. But Saria didn’t loosen her grip. Her ears were up, body tense, and her narrowed eyes were fixed not on Routier, but on the man ahead.

Then she spoke, her voice low, sharp, and certain.

“You’re not her father… are you?”

“Huh?”

“Who are you?” the man asked coldly, narrowing his eyes. “Why are you interfering in a family’s reunion?”

Routier froze in place, eyes wide in disbelief. Her father, if he truly was, frowned in clear irritation, the warmth from just moments ago already gone from his expression.

The sudden shift in atmosphere left everyone rattled. Origa and Zora looked around anxiously, unable to grasp what was happening. Even Al, normally unshakable, stood speechless, clearly unsure what to say. Honestly, I wasn’t doing much better. The only one who seemed unaffected was Lulune, who had completely tuned out the situation and was busy scanning the area for monsters… or more likely, something edible.

Routier pulled free from Saria’s arms and turned on her, eyes fierce. “Saria, don’t say things like that. There’s no way I’d mistake my own father. That man is my real father.”

“No! No, you’re right, he is your real father… but also not!” Saria cried, flustered. “I mean, it’s him… but it’s not!”

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say. Stop interfering,” Routier snapped, her voice shaking with emotion as she began walking toward the man again, undeterred by Saria’s warning.

Saria’s arms reached out instinctively, but this time, she didn’t try to hold Routier back. Instead, she turned to me.

“Seiichi! Please, stop her!”

“Seiichi… are you going to stand in my way too?” Routier asked quietly, her voice trembling now with hurt rather than anger. She stared at me, searching my face for an answer.

“Huh?” I blinked, completely lost.

I had no idea what was happening. Routier was convinced the man before us was her father, no doubt in her voice. But Saria—usually so gentle, so carefree—was practically begging me to believe he wasn’t. Or… that he was, but something was wrong.

This is bad. I’m completely lost here…

My gaze shifted back and forth between the two girls. Saria looked at me with pleading eyes, desperately hoping I’d understand what she couldn’t put into words. Routier met my eyes too, but hers were steady, unwavering. She truly believed.

But among all the confusion, there was one thing I knew without a doubt.

I trust Saria.

I didn’t know if what she was sensing was part of her “wild instinct” or something else entirely. But I did know this: Saria would never say something like this without a reason. Not without being sure.

“I’m sorry, Routier. I believe Saria. I can’t let you go over to that man.”

“What if I force my way through?”

“If you try that, I’ll get unreasonable enough to stop you.”

Routier kept glaring at me, as if daring me to back down, when an unexpected laugh cut through the tense air. It started low, then cracked into something ugly and high. “Ku ku ku… ku ha ha ha ha ha!”

“F-Father…?” Routier whispered, as if hoping it was some trick of the wind.

The laugh came from the man we’d thought was her father. He covered his face with one hand and let out another round of laughter, the sound wet and delighted. “Delicious irony! How perfectly ridiculous. My own daughter cannot see through me. What a fool’s tale.”

“W-What—” Routier choked, confusion and something like dread spreading across her face.

But the man’s smile twisted uglier. He lowered his hand and spoke, his voice turning soft and cruel. “Yet it is irritating as well. I had been intending to kill that daughter of yours with this body… but your meddling has ruined my plan.”

“F-Father? What are you saying?” Routier’s voice broke into a stunned whisper.

She was staring at him in disbelief, but the thing wearing her father’s face only smiled more broadly, eyes glittering with malice. “You still don’t understand? I am not your father. Your father’s dead.”

Routier went slack. The world seemed to tilt; her knees gave out, and she dropped down as if someone had cut the legs from beneath her. “Routier?!” I lunged forward to catch her, heart pounding.

“Bastard!” Al barked, rage flaring. She launched herself at the man with the speed of a blade, intent on cutting him down.

The man barely glanced up. “Such a brutish woman,” he said, amused. “Do not stand before me… prostrate yourself.”

At his command, Al crumpled as if an invisible hand had shoved her down from above. She didn’t fold onto her knees; rather, some unseen pressure pressed her into the ground and held her there, strain painting her face as she fought against it. Her arms pumped, her breath came hard, but the force pinned her to the earth like a weight from the sky.

“Oh? You resist my words?” the thing purred, enjoying the spectacle.

“Y-You pompous fake noble bastard… shut the hell up!”

The words slipped from Al’s gritted teeth like venom. The man’s expression darkened instantly, fury rising behind his eyes. But before he could react, Origa had already moved. Taking advantage of the momentary opening, she appeared behind him in a flash of silent motion. With precise, practiced grace, she drove a kunai straight at his neck.

“Target acquired.” The blade hit its mark, sinking deep into his throat. And yet, the man didn’t fall. He winced, annoyed, but that was all. The wound barely bled. His face twisted more in irritation than pain. “Persistent little insect…”

Just as his focus snapped back to her, another figure slipped in low, so quiet and swift he almost didn’t notice.

“Clear out!”

“Hah?! Who—! Gah?!”

Saria slammed her fist into his exposed gut with staggering force. The impact was so powerful that the shock visibly rippled out through his back, tearing through the air. The surrounding grass bent violently under the concussive wave.

The man was suddenly lifted off the ground, flying through the air like a kicked barrel and heading straight for Lulune, who was still calmly scanning the field, completely unfazed by the chaos.

“Don’t interrupt me. I’m busy looking for food.”

Without even sparing him a glance, Lulune pivoted and lashed out with her leg. Her heel struck him clean in the side, folding him over midair with a muffled thud.

“Guboah?!”

He was sent careening through the air, flipping end over end like discarded trash before vanishing into the distance.

Watching the entire scene play out in a blur, I could only stand there, stunned.

“Uh… I mean, I was about to step in, too. I didn’t like what that guy said either… but it looks like that wasn’t necessary,” I muttered to myself.

“S-Seriously…” Zora murmured beside me, equally dumbfounded. “Actually, is he still alive?”

She had a point. Under normal circumstances, Origa’s strike alone would’ve been fatal. That kunai wasn’t just sharp; it carried a special effect that induced powerful status ailments. He should’ve been paralyzed, bleeding out, or worse.

But right now, we had more important things to worry about than the human projectile.

I turned to Routier, who still hadn’t moved.

“Routier… are you okay?”

“My father… is dead.” She barely seemed to register my voice. Her eyes were blank, her words a whisper. She just stood there, trembling, unable to process the truth she’d been forced to hear.

“I… I don’t even know what to say,” I admitted, voice small and useless. Back on Earth, when I heard my father was dead, I couldn’t take it in either. If the man standing there truly wore Routier’s father’s face, then someone was using that face to deceive us. And that was unforgivable. Still, after what Saria and the others had just done, I couldn’t imagine him getting away unscathed.

Then the man chuckled, soft at first, then breaking into a harsh, joyless laugh. “Ha ha ha. How surprising.”

“—?!” Al’s hand balled into a fist, ready to move.

“I thought… I had surely pierced his core…” he muttered, voice oddly fractured.

“Hm. I felt the kunai sink into his neck for sure. Did he have the same kind of power as that cultist?” Origa asked, squinting at him.

It was impossible to deny what we’d seen: the man who’d taken Origa’s kunai, who’d taken Saria’s blow, had simply walked away as if nothing had happened. The obvious thought was the same one Origa had voiced: this was the sort of ability the cultists had, but nothing in Saria’s or the others’ behavior suggested any lingering effect. The man’s grin soured at that implication.

“Who do you compare me to?” he snapped, offended. “How insolent!”

“So who are you, then?” I demanded, stepping forward despite the lump in my throat.

He sighed as if answering a child. “Hah… ignorance is a terrible thing. You don’t even know me? Fine. I will tell you. I am ‘the Night King.’”

“Night King?” The words were unfamiliar; everyone exchanged puzzled glances. None of us had ever heard that title.

“I am the Night King! Ruler of this place that belongs to the night! How could you possibly hope to defeat me?” he boasted, voice swollen with mockery.

“You won’t know until you try!” I shot back before I could stop myself.

“Seiichi, no!” Al snapped.

“Ugh?!” I blinked, already regretting my own mouth. Great. That was not the time to be bold.

The man merely laughed again, amusement glittering in his eyes as if daring us to make the attempt.

In a flash, I closed the distance between us, ready to deck this so-called “Night King” into the next continent. Just as I was about to let the punch fly, Saria’s voice rang out behind me, sharp and urgent.

“Seiichi, wait!”

Because of her shout, I held back even more than I already had. I was planning to pull the punch enough not to destroy the world, of course, but now I eased off to something more like a firm slap from hell. Even so, my fist connected cleanly with the Night King’s face and sent him flying far, far into the distance.

Watching his form vanish into the horizon again, I turned to Saria with a frown. “S-Saria? Why’d you stop me?”

“Because… that body still belongs to Routier’s father,” she said quietly.

“Huh?”

“Exactly right, girl.”

“Huh?”

Somehow, the Night King had already come back, despite me sending him airborne toward what should have been the far edge of the grassland. He approached us calmly, rubbing his nose where my fist had hit. Unlike when Saria or the others had attacked, he actually seemed hurt this time.

He cast a wary glance in my direction, muttering under his breath.

“Th-This makes no sense… How could the ruler of night… be harmed?”

“I’m not following a word of that,” I said flatly. “More importantly, how’d you get back here so fast? I definitely punched you all the way to next Tuesday.”

At my question, he seemed to snap out of his daze. He puffed out his chest and gave a smug, if slightly crooked, grin.

“Hmph… You truly do not understand, do you? I am night itself. And night… is me. As long as this land remains under night’s dominion, I am present within it. In the realm governed by darkness, there is no such thing as ‘too far’ for me.”

So basically… he had some kind of night-themed teleportation ability. That made sense.

“Which is precisely why, within this dominion of twilight, I am—GAAAHHH?!”

“?!”

Suddenly, he clutched at his chest, staggering backward in visible pain. Alarmed, we all took a cautious step back.

And then, he gasped out a name.

“Rou… tie… r…”

“Eh? F-Father?”

Just like that, the oppressive, arrogant aura he’d exuded shattered. The Night King’s entire demeanor shifted: his posture faltered, and his eyes lost that cruel gleam. For the first time, the voice that emerged sounded human.

Chapter 13: The Morning Rushes In

The Night King’s presence shifted in an instant. The arrogance drained from his posture, and he collapsed to the ground, falling to his knees with a ragged gasp.

“Guh!”

“Father!” Routier cried out, already rushing toward him.

“Routier! Wait—” I reached to stop her on instinct, but to my surprise, it was Saria who held me back this time, not the other way around.

“Seiichi! It’s okay now!” Her voice was calm, certain. Completely different from before.

“Huh? What do you mean?” I asked.

“That man right now… that’s really Routier’s father. No question about it.”

“What?”

Now I really don’t get what the hell is going on…

Hadn’t that guy, the Night King or whatever, just said Routier’s father was dead?

While I stood frozen in confusion, the man—Routier’s real father, if Saria was right—struggled to lift his head, straining to speak through the pain.

“Nngh… not much time… listen closely.”

“Father, what’s happening—”

“Listen!”

“Y-Yes!” Routier flinched at the sudden force in his voice, her body tensing. But after a breath, she nodded quickly, eyes focused and obedient. Her father managed a faint smile.

“Good girl… Listen well. I… I’m being possessed. By something else. Something calling itself… the ‘Night King.’”

“Something else?”

He nodded weakly, breath shallow.

“Yes… Those lunatics in the Cult of the Wicked One… they used me… tampered with my body…”

Routier’s hands clenched into trembling fists as the words fell from his lips.

“What they implanted in me… you’ve already seen it for yourself. The Night King. A being that, true to its name, holds unfathomable power within the night. At night, it becomes… practically invincible. You could even call it… a god.”

“A… a god?” I echoed, barely able to process it.

“Like the Black Dragon God?” Routier asked.

“It’s on a different level. The Night King cannot be harmed or killed while night lasts. Not by magic, not by skill, not even by their so-called Wicked One…”

Hold on. That’s… absurd. An enemy who literally can’t take damage at night? What the hell are we supposed to do with that?!

We’ve fought guys with skills like “Suredeath” and “Resonant,” abilities so broken you’d think they were the final boss, right? But now there’s something even worse, something stronger than even the deity those cultists worship? That’s insane.

Seriously, what’s the Cult of the Wicked One even trying to do? Create something stronger than their god? And then… what? Control it? What part of that sounds like a good idea?

Wait a second, if everything Routier’s father said is true, then why did that Night King guy look like he was in pain when I hit him? Was that my imagination?

As I wrestled with that thought, Routier’s pale face turned toward her father. Her voice trembled, but she managed to speak.

“Th-Then… what do we do? How can we stop it?”

“There’s… only one way,” he said between shallow breaths. “You must… bring about… the morning.”

“Morning?” Routier repeated, brow furrowed.

The answer threw us all off. What kind of weakness was that?

Is it just because he’s the ‘Night King’? Is he weak in the daytime? Seriously? That’s way too simple.

Judging by the looks on everyone’s faces, I wasn’t the only one who thought that. Routier didn’t seem to understand the danger either, but her father, reading her expression, pushed forward.

“When morning comes… my will becomes stronger than his. I… can suppress the Night King’s mind… seal it away.”

“In that case—!”

“But… on this world… that’s impossible.”

“W-What? Why not?!”

“This planet… has no morning.”

“Huh?” The response came in unison.

Every single one of us stared, blinking.

No morning?

What the hell does that even mean?! Isn’t this just a dungeon?

I mean, sure, it looks like a starry night sky, but it’s underground, right?

Seeing our collective confusion, Routier’s father grit his teeth and forced himself to keep speaking.

“This place… is not a dungeon. It’s… another planet. You are no longer… on your world.”

“—!”

Wait, what?! When the hell did we hop planets?! We just walked down a staircase! A staircase!

I stared at the grassland around us, the endless starry sky overhead… and suddenly, the logic broke down. No dungeon I’d ever seen had felt this real. But if he was telling the truth, then…

We weren’t underground.

We weren’t even on the same world anymore.

“Because… there is no morning… in this place, that creature… is invincible. And worse still…” Routier’s father drew a shaky breath, his voice strained and flickering like a dying flame. “Because I am sealed here… no one… can teleport out of this world.”

“What?” I asked, instinctively taking a half-step forward.

“In other words,” he rasped, “you have no choice… but to defeat him… here… in this world without dawn…”

“But… Seiichi-oniichan’s magic can break seals,” Origa offered, stepping forward with quiet confidence.

Routier’s father, however, shook his head slowly, as if that kind of hope hurt more than despair.

“This is a seal… and yet it is not. To me, it is a prison. But to him… it is a convenient blessing. A gift. Undoing it… would change nothing…”

Routier’s lips trembled. “No… Then there’s no way to beat him…”

“I thought the same at first,” her father admitted. “But if it’s that man…”

“Wait, me?” I blinked, pointing to myself. “What did I do?”

His eyes, tired but certain, met mine. But before he could say more, his body suddenly convulsed. He clutched his chest, and a terrible scream tore out of his throat.

“Gghhh… GRAAAAAAHHHHHH!!”

“Father!!”

“Routier, no!” Saria shouted.

Through clenched teeth, his voice scraped out one final command. “K… Kill… it…”

“Father!! Stay with me!” Routier reached out, trying to crawl toward him, but Saria, now in her gorilla form, grabbed her in a blur and leapt back just in time.

An instant later, Routier’s father’s hand lashed out like a blade, striking the space she had just vacated with terrifying force, as if trying to gouge something from the very air.

Then, in the space of a breath, the shift happened again.

The warmth and humanity in his face vanished completely. In its place returned the suffocating, regal malice of the Night King.

“Ghh… hahh… hahhh… That wretched soul is persistent. It must’ve been that punch earlier. What kind of impact was that… to force him out like that?”

“Give him back!” Routier screamed, her voice cracking. “Give my father back!”

Without waiting for a reply, she summoned a massive giant of black flame behind her, the air around it rippling with heat and power. With a shout of pure fury, she sent the flaming titan crashing toward the Night King with a punch that shook the very ground beneath our feet.

But the Night King didn’t so much as flinch.

He didn’t attempt to dodge Routier’s flaming titan. The massive, blazing fist crashed into him with thunderous force. And when the dust settled, he stood exactly where he had been, utterly unscathed.

“Hmph. Foolish girl,” he sneered, brushing nonexistent debris from his shoulder. “Did your dear father not explain it properly? I am invincible upon this land. Invincible!”

As his arms spread wide, the darkness around us responded like a living beast. It twisted and condensed in midair, forming into dozens of black spears. A heartbeat later, they rained down from above like a lethal storm.

“Tch.” I stepped forward without hesitation.

“Seiichi!” Routier shouted in alarm.

I drew the Rapier of Festering Hatred and gave it a casual sweep through the air. The black spears shrieked toward us, then scattered into mist as my blade sliced through them, dissolving into nothingness.

The Night King’s face twisted with irritation.

“Cursed wretch! A mere insect deflecting the might of my power! If I could just consume that girl’s father entirely… then I would become complete!”

“Complete?” I asked warily.

“Yes!” he spat. “That man and I… we are light and shadow. Once I devour him, I will inherit his ‘light’ as well. And when that pathetic remnant of the Demon King vanishes with him, the seal will break, and I’ll no longer be bound to this world!”

“You think we’re gonna let you buy time for that?”

I didn’t wait for an answer.

Just as I’d done back in Zola’s dungeon, I raised my rapier toward the sky and unleashed a slash—precisely calibrated to skirt the edge of this world’s structural integrity. A colossal arc of destruction carved upward through the heavens, disappearing into the black beyond with a sound like the sky itself tearing open.

“Huh,” I muttered.

The Night King froze. His posture slackened. Then, with a helpless sputter, he collapsed into a sitting position, visibly pale.

“D-Did no one tell you?!” he shrieked. “Th-This is no dungeon! This is an entirely separate planet!”

So it really is another planet, huh…

Then, couldn’t we at least have gotten something cooler than a flight of stairs as our portal? Some cosmic scenery? A wormhole? Starlight reflecting on crystal walls? No? Just… mossy stone bricks all the way down?

Yeah. Definitely felt like a missed opportunity.

If I didn’t have to worry about the rules of this world, I could probably slice through a dimension on a bored afternoon. The thought brushed my mind as casually as a fly; then, another popped up. Wait… did that slash I just sent into the sky even matter? Was that all for nothing?

“Uwaa… that’s a shock…” Al murmured, still sitting on her rear.

“W-What are you? Are you even human?!” the Night King sputtered, eyes wide and unblinking.

“I-I am human!” I snapped, affronted on principle. Seriously, rude.

Still, it was weird. For an entity who claimed invincibility, he looked uncomfortably frightened of me. Maybe there’s something to this? I decided to test it.

“Hey, there is one thing I want to check,” I said, stepping forward.

“W-What?!” he warned.

“Could I maybe… beat you even if it wasn’t morning?”

Silence swallowed him, then spread to everyone. Dead silent.

Wait, seriously? So that’s what Routier’s father meant when he looked at me like I might be the answer.

“Is that so? Then let’s end this,” I said, already making the decision before the room could start arguing.

“W-Wait… no!” Al scrambled to her feet and lunged, but the Night King moved fast, putting distance between us like a cornered animal.

“You really intend to kill me?! You’d squash me like an insect?!” he howled.

“Yeah. Your plan was to consume Routier’s father, right? He told us killing him would end the seal. And honestly, after all the trash talk—don’t lecture me about morals!” I shot back.

“Silence! I am no mere creature! I am the rightful ruler of this world! Do not compare me to you filth! And… do you even realize what you’d do? If you destroy this body, the faint remnant of that girl’s father will die too!”

“?!” The words hit me like a blunt instrument. For a second, I hesitated.

The Night King’s grin widened, venomous and triumphant. “Ha-ha-ha! See? You can’t bring yourself to strike, can you? To truly annihilate me, you must obliterate this vessel. Do that, and the part of her father you cling to will vanish. Will you still attempt it? Huh?!”

“That’s—” I started, the implications coiling cold in my gut.

Damn it… After hearing that, how the hell was I supposed to strike?

The moment I hesitated, the Night King immediately sensed it. Emboldened, he puffed out his chest and launched into a self-congratulatory monologue, laughing like a Saturday morning cartoon villain.

“Ha-ha-ha-ha! Of course, it is I who shall prevail! Had morning arrived, the girl’s father would’ve overtaken me. The mental balance would’ve shifted, and I would have been extinguished! But the fools who call themselves the Cult of the Wicked One… they used the man’s seal to create me, tethering me to this world where night is eternal! Here, there is no celestial body to bring dawn. No sun. No morning. In this place, morning will never come!”

His voice boomed across the grasslands, mocking, arrogant, triumphant. It was clear he believed nothing could threaten his victory now. That infuriating sneer said it all: You’ve lost, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

I thought of activating my Synchronization Skill to merge our minds, force unity of spirit, just like I’d done before in other desperate moments. But the moment I seriously considered it, I realized the horrifying consequence: the skill would latch onto the vessel—the body—and in this case, the one in control of that vessel was the Night King. If I activated it now, it would be Routier’s father who would be erased.

And worse still, my current version of the skill had no way of singling the Night King out. No workaround. No precision targeting.

Maybe there was a way to separate them that I just hadn’t figured out yet… but if I couldn’t think of it now, when it mattered most, then it was as good as nonexistent.

Saria and the others clearly saw the same problem. They stood frozen in place, jaws clenched in frustration, eyes blazing with helpless fury. Every muscle in Saria’s body was taut, trembling with the need to act, but like me, she couldn’t move without risking Routier’s father.

And then—

“I’ve decided,” Routier said softly, stepping forward.

We all turned to look at her.

She wasn’t crying. Her expression wasn’t twisted in pain or grief. She was calm, frighteningly calm. But behind that calm… was resolve. The kind that makes your stomach sink.

“Seiichi.”

“Yeah?”

“Destroy the Night King.”

“Huh?” I blinked.

She actually said it… Routier told me it was okay to kill her own father. The words hit me so hard I almost laughed at the absurdity. The Night King heard them too, and the smug composure he’d worn a moment ago snapped like glass. Panic flared in his eyes.

“W-What are you thinking?! If you annihilate me, the part of her father that remains will be erased forever!” he spat.

“I know,” Routier said, voice steady. “But your plan is obvious… you’re just stalling so you can swallow his spirit and become complete, aren’t you?” The accusation landed true; the Night King faltered, mouth opening and closing as if struck.

“Guh! Y-You—!” he choked, and rage made him savage. The darkness around him writhed into a whirl of spears and tendrils, and he hurled everything at us in a desperate, screaming onslaught. “Die! Die! Die, you trash! Burn, burn, burn!”

I didn’t hesitate. I countered each of his assaults with a swift, decisive strike of the Rapier of Festering Hatred—blade arcing through the night and shredding shadow into mist. Still, the Night King never relented; he fought like a creature with no alternative, clawing to drag whatever remained of Routier’s father into himself even as he lashed out.

Do I really have to blow him away along with the father he’s using? The thought knotted in my gut. No. That’s not the only option. My body’s been through worse than this; I don’t break that easily. Morning doesn’t come? Then call it.

“Routier.” I took a step closer, voice low but clear.

“Seiichi… please.”

Routier’s voice trembled, tears brimming in her eyes as she pleaded. She wasn’t just scared; she was entrusting me with everything.

I gently rested a hand on her head, giving her a soft pat, then turned to face the Night King.

“Damn it! Just a little more… just a little more and I’ll be complete!”

He was shouting now, desperate and panicked, clawing for a victory slipping out of reach.

But I didn’t respond. I simply closed my eyes and focused, drawing in a quiet breath.

“Seiichi?” Routier blinked in confusion. “What are you doing? If we wait too long, my father will…”

“It’s okay, Routier!” Saria said with a reassuring smile. “Seiichi’s got this.”

“Huh?”

“Please,” Altria snorted, folding her arms. “It’s not like this is anything new. He’s always pulling off ridiculous stuff.”

“Altria…?”

“There’s no need to worry. We all know how absurd and insanely reliable that guy is.”

“Yeah,” Origa nodded softly. “With Seiichi-oniichan… things always turn out in a fun way.”

“Fun?” Routier repeated, still unsure.

Then even Zora added her voice, calm and filled with quiet conviction. “I also thought it was impossible that I’d never see the outside world again. But now… I’m here because I believed in him. So, you can believe too.”

“Zora…”

That’s when someone else chimed in, someone who’d been focused entirely elsewhere until now.

“What are you even worried about?” Lulune said flatly, glancing up from where she’d been hunting for food. “If Master’s here, there’s literally nothing to fear. Just relax and think about eating or something.”

“F-Food?!”

“That only applies to gluttons…”

Lulune’s completely absurd comment shattered the tension like a stone breaking glass, and Origa immediately fired back with a sharp retort, her voice dry and annoyed. It was classic Lulune: throw out something ridiculous and wait for someone else to clean it up. And just as typical was Origa, stepping in without hesitation to play the voice of reason.

Even in the middle of that chaotic rhythm, I felt it: every one of them trusted me. That trust ran deep. I could see it in their eyes, in the way they looked at me now. And honestly, I was grateful. I really was. Still, just this once, I needed to say it:

I’m not that irrational. Or that crazy, all right? Yes, maybe I’ve gained a few new tricks recently, and perhaps I’ve pulled off a couple of stunts that turned heads, but it’s not like I’ve gone off the deep end! I’m still me! Just… me, slightly upgraded!

Anyway, all of that was beside the point. Right now, I had something much more important to focus on.

I was about to create a new spell from scratch, one that would literally summon the morning. It had been ages since I’d done that. My palms tingled with nervous energy, and my heart beat a little too fast in my chest. This wasn’t just a spell. It was a lifeline—a desperate answer to the impossible.

All right… morning. What does “morning” even look like?

The first image that came to mind was rush hour: crowds flooding into train stations, commuters with dead eyes, cups of convenience-store coffee in hand, and the sound of closing train doors ringing in their ears. Sure, that was morning. But that was Japan’s morning—a stressful, chaotic slice of reality—not the peaceful, bright image of “dawn” I was looking for in this spell.

“Seiichi-oniichan, your face looks kinda intense right now,” Origa muttered, squinting at me.

“I’m starting to get worried… Are you sure you’re okay?” someone else added, unease creeping into their tone.

“I-I’m fine! Probably! I think!” I blurted out, forcing a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.

No, no, no… focus! Think! There had to be something else. Early risers? Morning practice? School assemblies?

Ughhhhhh! None of this was working!

I thought it would be easy. Just picture “morning” and shape it into magic. But now that I was actually trying, I realized how vague, how abstract that idea really was. The concept of morning wasn’t a single image; it was a feeling—a shift. And trying to pin it down was like trying to catch sunlight in your hands.

“Haa… haa… Just… a little more—!”

I was breathing hard now. My vision blurred at the edges from strain.

“…! Seiichi, hurry!” Routier’s voice cut through the noise like a blade. “The Night King… he’s almost done!”

My stomach dropped. No time. The Night King was seconds away from fully absorbing Routier’s father. If I didn’t act now, we’d lose him, and possibly everything else. The gravity of it slammed into me like a wave, but instead of focusing my mind, it scattered my thoughts further.

I was trying—really trying—but the panic was killing my ability to concentrate. My imagination wasn’t keeping up. Every image I summoned slipped away like mist before it could take shape. I had to simplify. I had to stop overthinking.

Okay. The sun. Just focus on the sun itself. Pure light. Warmth. A sky turning gold at the edges.

But no… Wait. That was too literal. If I actually summoned the sun… I could see it now: the spell manifesting a celestial body, a blinding orb of nuclear fire crashing down and vaporizing the entire planet in an instant. Yeah, not happening.

This spell had to be symbolic. It had to call the morning, not unleash it like a doomsday weapon.

Call the morning… let the morning come… morning has arrived…

Morning has come!

And then, just like that, something clicked.

A single, vivid image surged up from the depths of my mind: pure, radiant, and unmistakably morning.

And then, it happened.

“Ha… Ha ha ha! It’s over! At last… at long last, I shall—!”

“—Cock-a-doodle-dooooooooooo!”

The world stopped.

No, really. The entire world just… froze.

Wait… What the hell did I just say?

I had been so entirely absorbed in forming the spell—so focused on visualizing the image in my mind—that I hadn’t even noticed what actually came out of my mouth.

Blinking in confusion, I slowly looked around.

Saria was smiling as if she had just witnessed something beautiful. Lulune gave a mysterious little nod, as if everything had gone exactly as she expected. But Al had a hand pressed to her forehead in disbelief, and Origa, along with the other girl, just stood there, mouths slightly open, frozen in stunned silence.

And the Night King—yes, even him—was staring at me with an expression that could only be described as, What the hell is this guy talking about?

Uh-oh…

I tilted my head, trying to process what just happened, and then a voice rang out inside my mind, calm and mechanical, like an automated system announcement.

…

“COCK-A-DOODLE-DOOOOOOOOOOO?!”

What kind of spell name is that?!

I mean… okay, yes, fine. I had imagined a rooster crowing when I thought of “morning.” That was the image I was going for. I can’t deny that. But did I really say it out loud? That loudly?!

Still clutching my head in both hands, I let out a strangled groan of embarrassment. Al, veins visibly throbbing on her temple, finally broke the silence.

“Just to be clear, I have to ask. You’re not screwing around, right?”

“I-I’m not!” I shouted, snapping to attention like a cadet under inspection.

“Oh, really? Is that so? Because there’s no way in hell I can believe that!” Al roared, her voice rising with disbelief and outrage. “Do you even understand what kind of situation we’re in right now?!”

“I-I know, okay?! I know! I just… I was trying to create a spell to deal with this whole situation, and the name sort of… slipped out while I was doing it.”

“The fact that you’re creating magic on the fly is already insane, but that name?! Couldn’t you have come up with something better?!”

Honestly? I agreed with her.

We had been in the middle of a tense, do-or-die standoff, and with a single shout—Cock-a-doodle-dooooooo!—I’d shattered the atmosphere into a million pieces. Just like that, all the tension evaporated. The gravity of the moment? Gone. How did it even come to this?

As Al continued her lecture, voice rising and veins popping, I stood at attention like a scolded schoolboy. Meanwhile, the Night King, who had been staring at me in dumbfounded silence, finally snapped back to reality.

“Hah?! I… I was caught off guard by a word I never expected to hear in this dimension, but enough of this! It’s over! My ritual is comple—”

But he never got the chance to finish.

The world changed.

Not gradually. Not the slow fade of twilight into day. It happened in an instant. The night was ripped away, replaced by blinding daylight as if someone had flipped a cosmic switch.

“Huh?”

It wasn’t some poetic dawn blooming softly across the sky. No, this was sudden. One moment it was night, the next it was morning… and I mean full-blown morning. When I glanced upward, I saw a star—not the actual sun, but close enough—radiating sunlight in a blaze of golden brilliance, flooding the world below with its rays.

If I had to assign a sound effect to what I was seeing, it would’ve been something like, “TA-DAA!” That’s how abrupt and dramatic it felt. Like the sun had just made a grand entrance, stage left.

The Night King stood frozen, his eyes wide as he stared at the sky in disbelief. Then, all at once, he started to smoke.

“Gah?! I-It can’t be! Impossible! Why… why has night ended in an instant?!”

The answer, of course, lay in the spell I had just created.

Still under Al’s verbal barrage, I quietly pulled up the description of the magic that had somehow changed the course of everything.

I stared at the text, deadpan.

No matter how many times I reread the name, it didn’t get any better.

It was such a majestic, over-the-top, magical ability—Celestial Summoning, no less! A spell system that sounded powerful, noble, maybe even sacred. And yet… the name. The name.

Why did it have to be this ridiculous?

All I’d wanted was to make it morning. But apparently, since this world didn’t even have a sun, the only solution was to summon one. That was the logic my subconscious had gone with. Honestly, the more I thought about it, the more concerned I became, and I’m the one who invented it!

Still… that last line was a nice touch. At least it could help wake people up.

Well, mornings make people sleepy, right?

At the very least, with this spell, I’d never have to worry about being late again!

“Hey! Are you even listening to me?!”

“S-Sorryyyyyy!”

Al’s furious voice crashed into my thoughts like a hammer, and the second I looked up and saw her glaring at me with that death-stare expression, I dropped to my knees and bowed so low my forehead touched the ground—an instinctive, desperate apology.

She still looked like she had a few more choice words locked and loaded, but after a sharp inhale, she forced them down with a heavy sigh.

“Ghh… haaah… Well, I guess the end result was good. Morning came, so… whatever.”

“S-So… does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“I’m not actually mad, all right?” she muttered, brushing her bangs back with a hand. “It’s just… when you clown around like that, it makes me feel like I’m the idiot for ever taking things seriously.”

“I understand completely, and I’m very sorry!!”

Oof. That hit harder than getting yelled at.

Seriously, I could take the scolding, but that look of weary disappointment? That was way worse. Still, I needed her to understand this much:

I wasn’t intentionally messing around. I wasn’t trying to turn a crisis into a joke. That spell? That name? They are honest reflections of me thinking hard and doing my best, which is arguably even worse, now that I say it out loud.

While I kept my head lowered in apology, Saria, Origa, and Zora had already turned their attention skyward.

“Wooow! It really became morning all at once!” Saria said, practically sparkling as she stared up at the now-clear sky.

“Mm… Bright,” Origa mumbled, squinting into the light.

“It’s… it’s incredible! Even on a different planet, the sky turns the same color!” Zora exclaimed, eyes wide with awe.

“It really does!”

“It’s blue…” Origa added quietly, as if confirming something profound.

Then there was Lulune. With the sudden blast of daylight clearing the battlefield, her eyes went bloodshot as she whipped her head from side to side, scanning the landscape like a predator on the hunt.

“With this visibility, I can finally see—! Where is it?! Where’s my breakfast?! Wait… It’s all grass?! You expect me to eat this?!”

“You were a donkey to begin with, weren’t you?!”

Don’t lie to us about not eating grass, you fraud.

And just like that, whatever tension had remained in our group was completely gone. The urgency, the seriousness, the drama were all things we had steamrolled right past. What was left was a chaotic, ridiculous mess of people yelling about grass and morning skies.

Routier, watching from the side, looked completely lost as she took in our group’s complete breakdown of composure. All she could do was stare at us in baffled silence.

“Umm… what exactly happened just now?” Routier asked hesitantly, her brows furrowed in confusion. “It suddenly turned into morning, and now no one seems even remotely tense…”

“Don’t sweat the small stuff,” I replied, casually waving it off. “Morning’s here now, right? That’s all that matters.”

“I-I guess? But… wait. Why did we need it to be morning in the first place?”

“Ah.”

The moment she said it, I froze.

Right… the Night King.

We had all become so absorbed in the absurdity of the spell, the name, the arguing, and the unexpected sunlight that we totally overlooked the major villain. I quickly looked around in surprise and shifted my focus toward him—

“Wh-Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?!” The Night King was shrieking. “Why… why is no one paying attention to meeeeee?! Why won’t anyone notice meeeeee?! Someone… help meeeeeee!”

Smoke was billowing from his entire body. He was clearly in agony, writhing on the ground, wheezing, and clawing at the air.

Was he going to be okay?

Not that I wanted him to be okay. Ideally, he’d just… fade out of existence and spare us the trouble. But that smoke made me wonder if it was just magical feedback or if his flesh was literally melting off. If it was the latter… yikes.

I crept a little closer and examined him cautiously. His skin didn’t look burned or melting, at least not visibly. No bubbling, no open wounds. Just a lot of smoke and screaming.

“Phew… looks like he’s physically fine!” I said with relief.

“I AM NOT FINEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Hey, just to be clear, I wasn’t checking on him. I was checking to make sure Routier’s father’s body was intact. The Night King had possessed him, after all. My priorities were in the right place.

The Night King, still wailing, eventually lost strength and sank to his knees.

“T-This… isn’t… how it was supposed… to—”

“Dad!”

Just as his body lurched forward in a collapse, his aura shifted. The moment was subtle, but unmistakable. The darkness that had clung to him like a second skin fell away, and something gentler took its place.

Routier noticed it too. With a gasp, she dashed forward and caught him before he could hit the ground.

And then—

“Mm… where… am I?”

“Dad… It’s me. It’s Routier. Can you recognize me?”

Her voice trembled, tears already beginning to well in her eyes. Her father blinked slowly, then looked at her with a warmth that had been absent for so long. He reached up with a shaking hand and gently brushed away the tears clinging to her cheeks.

“Yes… I recognize you. Of course I do.”

“D-Dadddddd!”

With a cry that carried the weight of everything she had been holding back, Routier broke down in his arms, sobbing without restraint.

Chapter 14: What Hellsmoke Saw

It was a long-awaited reunion between father and daughter, so the rest of us chose to give them some space. Quietly, we stepped back and watched over the two of them from a respectful distance.

There must have been so much they wanted to say. So many unspoken thoughts and memories waiting to resurface. But both Routier and her father seemed to understand the gravity of the situation; they spoke only briefly before the two of them began making their way toward us.

“I’ve heard everything from Routier,” her father said, his tone calm but commanding. “Allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Zephal Beaut—Routier’s father, and the current Demon King. Thank you… for helping my daughter.”

He bowed his head low in gratitude.

Zephal Beaut, the Demon King. The very one who, moments ago, had been possessed by the Night King. And now here he was, speaking with the gravity of a sovereign, yet the warmth of a father.

Panicking a little, I rushed to return the gesture. “N-No, please! I’m just glad I could be of help!”

“No need for such humility,” he replied, straightening. “Without your power, I would have been completely devoured by the Night King. It’s only right I ask, what is your name, brave one?”

“Ah, um… Seiichi Hiiragi.”

“I see… Seiichi-dono. You have my deepest thanks.”

His words carried a quiet strength, reflecting not just gratitude but also recognition. As he turned his gaze toward me, even Saria and the others naturally straightened their postures. The tension returned; this time not from fear, but from the burden of what nearly happened.

If I hadn’t finished the spell in time… Zephal wouldn’t be standing here. None of this reunion would have happened.

I really had cut it that close.

Still, there was one thing that bothered me. A small, ridiculous detail, but it wouldn’t leave my mind. For some reason, it felt important to know. So I decided to ask.

“Um… can I ask you something?”

Zephal nodded, his expression firm. “Of course. If I can answer it, I will.”

He straightened a little, clearly preparing himself for a serious question.

And so, with all the weight of my sincerity, I asked:

“Assuming you had been absorbed… what would the Night King have been called afterward?”

“That’s your question?!” Al barked from behind me. “Out of everything you could possibly ask right now, that’s what you’re curious about?! And it’s bad luck to even say that out loud!”

Okay, fine. Maybe it wasn’t the most appropriate question. Maybe it was a little ominous.

“But don’t you kinda wanna know?”

“I mean, now that you said it, yeah, kinda, but that doesn’t mean it’s worth asking! Aren’t there more important things to ask the Demon King, y’know?!”

“More important things?”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Al threw up her hands, incredulous.

But honestly, I wasn’t joking. I didn’t really have anything else I wanted to ask Zephal. Nothing burning, nothing pressing. I was genuinely just curious about the name thing.

Though now that she was getting worked up about it, I had to wonder… did Al have something she wanted to ask?

Watching our exchange with a solemn expression, Zephal gave a firm nod.

“Indeed. I imagine he would have taken the name… The All-Day King.”

“Huh… Makes sense.”

“Wait, you’re seriously answering that?!” Al exploded. “And that name is so lame!”

She was on fire with comebacks today.

Honestly, I’d been betting on something like The Day-and-Night King myself, but The All-Day King… yeah, that’s pretty awful. Then again, Day-and-Night King would’ve been just as embarrassing. And let’s be real, I’m in no position to judge anyone’s naming sense. I’m the guy who accidentally created a world-shaking spell called Cock-a-doodle-doo. That’s the kind of person I am.

While Al massaged her forehead like she was nursing a migraine, she finally exhaled a long, heavy sigh and turned back to Zephal with a serious look in her eyes. “All right… jokes aside. I need to ask something real.”

“Go ahead,” Zephal replied, his tone steady.

“Are you absolutely sure the Night King is completely gone from inside you?”

“Without a doubt,” he said confidently. “I devoured his will entirely. He no longer exists within me. There’s no need to worry.”

“I see…”

Routier tilted her head slightly, watching Al as she narrowed her eyes in thought. Something was clearly still bothering her.

“Altria?” Routier asked softly.

Then—

“Just to be safe. Seiichi,” Al added.

“Yeah?”

“Check him.”

“Me?”

“You can do it, right? No, you will do it.”

“That’s not a request! That’s a verdict!”

Zephal raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised, but not offended. “Hmm… To think that you could even confirm something like that. The fact that this world has morning now is already astonishing, but to verify whether the Night King has truly been purged… You must be quite the exceptional man, Seiichi-dono.”

“Mhm… Seiichi-oniichan is amazing,” Origa added, utterly serious. “He’s not even human.”

“Origa-chan?!”

I’m human, okay?! It says so right there on my status—

Wait…

That thing’s still AWOL, isn’t it?

Where are you right now, status window?! How far did you wander off?!

“Ahem! Well… I don’t know if I can really pull this off,” I said, clearing my throat and straightening up. “But I’ll give it a try.”

“I suspect it’ll be a waste of effort,” Zephal replied, though not unkindly. “But I’ll leave it to you.”

So, now the question was how to determine if the Night King was still inside him.

Should I use Magic Creation once more and conjure a mind probe spell?

No. No way. Not unless it’s the absolute last resort. I don’t want to use that skill again today… not after the Cock-a-doodle-doo incident. Who knows what kind of name would come out this time?

Still, I kept the option in my back pocket just in case.

As I was wracking my brain, a thought struck me, something I hadn’t been able to try back when Zephal was still under the Night King’s control.

Now that Zephal had reclaimed his body, what if I used the Synchronization skill? If I could align his spiritual signature to match the number of mental presences around him—that is, to reflect only a single consciousness—then the Night King, as a foreign entity, should get purged automatically, right?

It wouldn’t just detect him; it would eliminate him. One shot, double payoff. Definitely worth trying.

So, without any further hesitation, I activated the skill.

“GYYYAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH—”

…

The scream echoed away into the distance like a dying firework.

We all fell silent.

Most notably, Zephal, who had been radiating smug confidence just a moment ago, slowly averted his eyes, looking deeply uncomfortable.

I couldn’t believe it. There really was a fragment of the Night King still clinging to him?

Everyone was frozen in place, their expressions a mix of disbelief, discomfort, and are you kidding me right now?

To cut through the awkwardness, I clapped my hands and forced a change in topic.

“S-So! Anyway! We’re done here, right? Let’s, uh… get out of this place!”

“Yes! Let’s go!” Saria jumped in quickly, glad for the escape route.

“Ghhh… So, in the end, there was no unknown food to be found here after all.” Lulune muttered bitterly.

Still, we’d rescued Zephal, dealt with the Night King, and confirmed everything was safe. That was mission accomplished as far as I was concerned.

I turned to leave, only to hear Zephal speak again behind me, his voice low.

“I cannot leave.”

“Huh?” Zephal’s words left Routier frozen in place, eyes wide with disbelief. “W-What do you mean… you can’t leave?”

“Routier…” he began gently, voice grave. “So long as I was under the Night King’s control, this land was considered a blessed domain. But now that I’ve reclaimed both my body and mind, this place has reverted to its original purpose: a prison. A seal meant to contain me. In other words, leaving this place is—”

Nope.

That conversation was clearly heading into melodrama territory, so I decided to cut it off before it snowballed any further.

Time to finally put this spell to use.

With a flourish, I activated my long-unused spell: Li●coln President.

At long last, this weirdly named magic had its moment. A ring of golden light flared to life, encircling Zephal’s body. It glowed for a moment, then burst apart in a flash of sparkles. The entire process took seconds.

And the look on Zephal’s face?

Honestly, I felt bad for thinking it, but… it was kind of hilarious.

He stood there blinking, mouth slightly open, wearing the most baffled expression I’d ever seen on a Demon King.

“Huh?”

“That seal thing? Yeah, just broke it. You’re good to go now.”

He didn’t respond. Not immediately, anyway. I could see him mentally processing what I’d just said. And when it finally clicked, he snapped back into action, waving his hands in a panic.

“W-Well! Even if I can leave… this planet isn’t our own, is it?! I told you that, remember? You might be able to get out of this place, but what about returning to your home world? None of us may be able to go back!”

“Hmm… Can’t we just use Seiichi’s teleport magic or something?” Al said casually, as if she were suggesting taking the bus home.

“We can,” I answered with a shrug. “No problem.”

In fact, when we first got here, I thought the ceiling was solid and hit it with a normal slash… only to find out I could tear open space itself. That’s right, my body just knows how to connect dimensions now.

Yeah… that’s definitely a red flag.

Zephal stared at us as if we were aliens, which was understandable, really. After a long, stunned silence, he finally broke it, sounding exhausted and completely worn out.

“E-Even if we could return to our original world… what about the Cult of the Wicked One?! I recall there being a facility just outside this dungeon, crawling with their members! Not just their average grunts, either! Their Servants are stationed there, some of the most powerful monsters they command! And worse, there are even Apostles, beings of terrifying might!”

I blinked. “Cult of the Wicked One facility? Did anyone see anything like that when we entered this dungeon?”

“Nope,” Al said flatly.

“I didn’t see anything like that either,” Saria chimed in brightly.

“Actually, come to think of it, I haven’t even seen the Cult of the Wicked One since we beat one of their Apostles,” Origa added, her voice cool and matter-of-fact.

“Right? That’s what I thought,” I said, nodding along.

“And besides…” Origa continued, “Seiichi-oniichan can use teleportation magic. There’s no need to warp back to the entrance of this dungeon at all. We could just go somewhere safer.”

“Exactly,” Al agreed without hesitation.

I looked over at Zephal.

So… anything else you’re worried about?

At my glance, Zephal slowly brought both hands to his face and groaned into them.

“This is mortifying…” he muttered. “I-I was the one who said goodbye like it was a final farewell between father and daughter! I prepared myself for that!”

“Dad…” Routier said softly. “Seiichi’s just… unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable?” Zephal lowered his hands, then gave her a look of disbelief. “This goes far beyond unreasonable! Do you realize what just happened?! He broke a high-level divine seal without an incantation! He can open teleportation gates between planets without any special equipment or arcane rituals! That seal was crafted by the hero of the previous age. He sacrificed his life to bind me! And now you’re telling me this one guy just waved his hand and undid it?! I’m not even the one getting disrespected here… the hero got done dirty too!”

“It’s okay. With Seiichi, abnormal is the baseline,” Routier replied, nodding solemnly.

“Huhh?! Routier, I mean this kindly, but you should really aim for someone a bit more grounded! I know you’re used to him, but seriously… he’s not even human anymore, is he? You just casually mentioned he beat an Apostle! Do you understand how insane that is?!”

“Geez, thanks for the glowing endorsement!” I snapped. “Yeah, okay, maybe I did steamroll all your dramatic tension, but come on! Was that really necessary?! I’m gonna cry, seriously!”

“Anyway! We can go home now, and that’s what matters, right?!”

“Y-Yes… you’re right.”

“Great! Then this conversation is officially over! Initiating teleport!”

Without giving anyone time to argue, I activated the teleportation spell and let it expand to envelop the group. The magic shimmered around us, grabbing hold of our bodies and lifting the weight of gravity and space itself.

In a blink, we left the surface of this strange world.

Just in case Routier and the others wanted to head straight back to the Demon King’s domain after this, I chose to teleport us to the point in my travel history closest to their territory. Just a bit of thoughtful planning, that’s all.

※※※

“Phew.”

The capital of the Kaizell Empire: Walzard.

In the heart of the city stood the imposing Zesal Castle, a symbol of imperial grandeur and dominance that loomed over the capital skyline like a shadow cast by power itself. And from the rooftop of a distant building, a lone man glared at it with eyes as sharp and cold as a hawk surveying its prey.

His gaze swept over the city like a predator on the hunt. Every alley, every courtyard, every tower; nothing escaped his vision.

“It’s been a long time, way too long.”

The man spoke with a low, simmering voice, each word pushed through clenched teeth as if he was grinding his resolve into shape.

He lifted his head slightly and looked beyond the buildings, beyond the lights, as if he were seeing something far, far away.

“Just a little longer, and I’ll finally avenge you.”

The one he’d lost—someone irreplaceable—had died because of this empire. And for years, the man had followed every lead, every whisper, gathering information with tireless obsession.

And now… finally… it was time.

The man known as Hellsmoke was ready to claim his revenge.

In his hands was a bundle of worn documents: intel reports, maps, hand-drawn diagrams.

He flipped through them again, scanning repeatedly to ensure nothing had changed and that everything would proceed smoothly.

“Over the past few months, the Emperor has suddenly stopped showing his face,” he murmured, eyes narrowed. “No public appearances, not even in the audience chamber. Initially, I suspected he might have died… but I’ve personally seen servants still bringing food to his chambers. And if he were dead, he wouldn’t be directing those damn invasions anymore.”

These reports weren’t cheap. Hellsmoke had poured a fortune into gathering them, hiring multiple informants from all over the empire’s underworld. And he hadn’t just taken their word for it; he’d verified every detail himself, cross-referencing reports, watching troop movements, tracking diplomatic patterns in neighboring countries.

The man left nothing to chance.

“I didn’t rely on just my own eyes. I hired others and paid them well. Set watchers on the castle. And ever since that bastard locked himself in his chambers… every person who’s gone in eventually came out. Not one stayed behind. That means there are no guards left inside. Not anymore.”

The Emperor of the Kaizell Empire suddenly going into isolation was strange, even concerning. But to Hellsmoke, the cause was irrelevant.

All that mattered was: Right now, the throne was vulnerable. And that made this… the perfect moment to strike.

“That bastard Helio, the so-called Phantom Mage and one of the king’s closest advisors, is neck-deep in coordinating the empire’s invasions,” Hellsmoke muttered under his breath. “And for some reason, even that Kingblade bastard isn’t guarding the king anymore. Looks like he’s off running his own little op.”

As the alias Kingblade crossed his mind, Hellsmoke recalled his past battle with the man known as Zakia, a memory laced with pain and anger.

And with it, the word he himself had once spat out with contempt: puppet.

“Heh. Looks like he’s not a puppet anymore…”

The thought hung in the air for a moment before Hellsmoke pulled a cigarette from his coat—a signature habit—and lit it with a practiced flick of his lighter.

He exhaled slowly, smoke curling around his lips.

“Well, whatever. Right around the time the king went into lockdown, that bastard Helio started pumping out Transcendants using some kind of artifact. It was like a damn nightmare, but fortunately, all those enhanced freaks are off fighting a war right now… with Helio. Which means I don’t have to deal with them.”

Hellsmoke had once considered the possibility that even the Emperor himself, Sheldt, might have used the artifact and become a Transcendant. But at this point, it didn’t matter.

If he had, then so be it.

Compared to everything Hellsmoke had prepared for, that possibility barely registered as a threat.

“The last problem would be the king’s personal assassins, but according to the info I bought, they’ve been deployed on assignments by Helio,” he said with a bitter chuckle. “At this point, who’s really running the empire?”

He blew another plume of smoke into the night sky.

“This is it. You couldn’t ask for a better opportunity. The bastard king is completely unprotected.”

Under normal circumstances, someone of the Emperor’s rank would never be left unguarded.

And if anyone was to stand at his side, it would’ve been Zakia, the Kingblade himself.

But Zakia wasn’t there.

In fact, his entire Second Division had vanished from the public eye, now operating somewhere deep in the shadows of the Kaizell Empire. And based on the intelligence gathered, Zakia was personally leading them.

That alone meant only one thing: Zakia was planning something. He was no longer the king’s sword. He was acting independently. And whatever it was he was preparing to do… it wasn’t guarding the throne.

With Zakia gone, Hellsmoke had no reason to hesitate.

Because in this empire, Zakia was the strongest man alive. If he wasn’t present, then there was no one left who could truly stop him.

Helio might still pose a threat, sure. The Phantom Mage had his reputation. But Hellsmoke had prepared for him, too. Nothing Helio could do would derail his plan now.

He took another drag of his cigarette, eyes narrowing as he glared at the audience chamber windows of Zesal Castle.

“Honestly… I’d love to just shoot the bastard from this distance and be done with it.”

But it wasn’t that simple.

He’d already tried that once. And ever since that failed assassination attempt, the castle had implemented countermeasures.

Direct sniping was no longer an option.

For Hellsmoke, the task wasn’t impossible, just difficult. But his goal wasn’t attempting to kill Sheldt; it was succeeding in killing him. And with no sign of the Emperor anywhere near the windows, there was nothing to aim for. A clean shot was out of the question.

He crushed the half-burned cigarette between his fingers, dropped it to the rooftop, and lit another.

“Hah. All right, time to move.”

Exhaling once to steady his heartbeat, Hellsmoke stepped off the edge of the building and plunged into the air. His coat snapped in the wind as he landed silently on the next rooftop, then the next, moving like a shadow toward Zesal Castle.

Tonight’s operation was built on timing, and the current situation offered the best he was ever likely to get.

More than that, this was the culmination of years of preparation. Ever since Zakia had thwarted his first attempt, Hellsmoke had pushed his body beyond its limits.

He had trained relentlessly, fighting enemies stronger than himself, surviving battles that nearly killed him, even resorting to black market drugs to enhance his body. Through agony and obsession, he had forced himself upward. At last, he stood among the ranks of the Transcendants, just like Zakia himself.

Without a sound, Hellsmoke slipped into the castle grounds. Every step erased its own echo; every breath dissolved into the dark.

No signs of life in the corridors… huh.

Once, these hallways had been bustling: nobles strutting in arrogance, soldiers marching in shining armor. Now, the place was dead quiet.

Extending his awareness, Hellsmoke spread his perception throughout the castle, using his honed senses and augmented skills to search for presences.

This is… strange. Way too quiet. Even the nobles who usually live near the castle aren’t moving. Their entire district feels empty.

He remembered how, not long ago, the nobles of the Kaizell Empire had reveled in obscene luxury, throwing nightly parties fueled by the taxes drained from their starving citizens. But now, even that excess had vanished. The city streets were still, drained of light and sound.

Don’t tell me… they’ve noticed me? He frowned, pausing in the shadows of a grand marble column. No. Even if they had, the empire wouldn’t need to mobilize the entire court just to catch one man. Not when they’re mass-producing Transcendants. And they sure as hell don’t know that I’ve become one myself…

As he drew closer to the throne room, a hollow knot of unease tightened in Hellsmoke’s chest. If he let this chance slip, he had no idea when another opportunity would present itself. Still, he shook his head to snuff the thought out.

Don’t second-guess. There’s only one objective. He told himself. Kill that bastard king. If it costs me my life, so be it.

He had steeled himself to die for this assassination; every scrap of preparation, every risk he had taken up to this point, had been oriented toward that single end. The castle felt almost deliberately deserted as he moved through it—an absence so complete it set his teeth on edge—and finally he came to the door he had been hunting for.

There should have been guards at the entrance to the audience chamber. There should have been sentries on duty, the clack of armor, the low murmur of palace business. Instead, the heavy doors stood mute and untouched, keeping a horrible, expectant silence. Hellsmoke closed his eyes for a heartbeat and pushed his senses outward.

No mistake… there’s only one presence in this room. I can’t tell if it’s the king or not, but if the intel’s right, he’s the only one in there… and he doesn’t seem to have noticed me.

The realization that his longed-for moment was within reach made his right hand itch. He flexed the fingers wrapped in the black, uncanny gauntlet fitted there and checked its condition as if the motion were part prayer, part ritual. He had once fought Zakia wearing a wine-red gauntlet with a similar effect, and it had been useless against that man. Zakia’s reach had exceeded what the old gear could connect with.

So Hellsmoke had upgraded. He hadn’t only pushed his body to the brink; he had carefully engineered his tools. The new piece, his Black Death Mage Bow Gauntlet, was designed to change the terms of engagement.

Its mechanics were simple in description and terrifying in implication: the gauntlet could create arrows out of raw mana, stockpile them in a pocket of subspace, and call them back into the world on command. More importantly, it could forge arrows saturated with Hellsmoke’s full, concentrated magical force, each one a projectile crafted at the extreme limit of his power.

Now, the heavy door to the audience chamber waited, and beyond it lay the culmination of everything he had spent his life planning for.

He had prepared for this down to the last detail: a hundred arrows in all—fifty ordinary shafts for quick, reliable shots, and fifty more saturated to the limit with raw mana, each one an absolute hammer aimed to pierce even a Transcendant.

This is it, he told himself. I’ve done everything I can. Kill Sheldt, and then—

Hellsmoke closed that thought off like a door. He stepped into the audience chamber with the cold certainty of a man who had already chosen the price of his action. He had rehearsed the moment in his mind a thousand times, and now, finally, he was acting on it.

But then—

“Huh?!”

A sound escaped him, a question without intention. There was something in the room, but it was not what he had expected.

Whatever sat before him was not human.

He’d seen horrors before, but this was something else entirely: a heaving mass of flesh that writhed with motion, muscles swollen so grotesquely they looked as if they might burst, a bulk so enormous that calling it human felt absurd. Its face was a ruin of what once might have been a face: fangs bared in a permanent, slobbering grin, features puffed and distorted into a hideous caricature, veins bulging across skin taut and blistered. Balding patches showed through coarse flesh; the eyes were dead, lacking any trace of reason. It ate with obscene hunger, shoveling food into its mouth and smearing itself in grease and sauce as if the act of feeding were a sacrament.

What is this thing? Is it even human?

Hellsmoke hadn’t even freed an arrow from subspace—his plan had been for a clean execution the second he saw Sheldt—but now his hands hung suspended by disbelief. The room smelled of oil, blood, and a sweetness that made his stomach roil. The thing showed no sign of noticing him; it kept consuming with animal patience, oblivious to the world.

“—So? How is His Majesty’s condition?” a voice asked suddenly.

“—?!”

The unexpected question snapped Hellsmoke out of his trance. Instinct took over; the arrows he’d readied loosed in a flurry toward the direction of the voice, each shaft a blur of lethal intent.

But—

“Well, well. How barbaric, attacking without warning. You really are a savage, aren’t you?”

Another voice echoed through the chamber, calm and amused, but from an entirely different direction. Hellsmoke’s eyes snapped toward it, only to find Helio, the so-called Phantom Mage, standing there without a scratch on him, a smug smile curling across his face.

“You! What the hell are you doing here?!”

“What, is it really so strange to find me in this place?” Helio asked innocently, as if the question genuinely puzzled him.

“Don’t play dumb. You’re supposed to be leading the army.”

“Oh? For someone who’s been gathering so much intel, it seems you’ve missed a rather important detail, hmm?”

That smirk… that mocking, condescending smirk, it told Hellsmoke everything.

“A projection,” he growled. “You’re just a damned illusion.”

“Bingo,” Helio said cheerfully, tapping a finger to his temple. “And at my level, an illusion doesn’t just look like me; it thinks like me. I can project my consciousness into it perfectly. So yes, I can delegate command to the illusion while handling other matters myself.”

“That’s an awful lot of confidence,” Hellsmoke muttered, narrowing his eyes. “Do you think your army can win without you?”

“Oh, they already are winning,” Helio replied smoothly. “And you know that better than most, don’t you?”

Hellsmoke said nothing, but silence was answer enough.

The truth was undeniable. The Kaizell Empire had already swallowed most of the world. Scattered resistance movements still fought back, forming rebel factions in remote corners of the continent, but their time was running out. The mass-produced Transcendants Helio had unleashed were simply too overwhelming.

“Besides,” Helio continued, casually brushing imaginary dust from his shoulder, “I have… other things to attend to. I can’t be wandering off from the castle every time a war needs winning.”

“Other things?” Hellsmoke snapped. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing you’ll be left out of, I assure you,” Helio said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

“Tch… What the hell are you playing at?!”

Hellsmoke didn’t wait for an answer. With a snap of his hand, he conjured and released an arrow directly toward Helio’s smug face, aiming straight for the bridge of the nose.

It passed through harmlessly. Even the smiling figure before him was nothing more than illusion.

“Pointless,” Helio said from nowhere and everywhere at once. “You’ll never find me. Zakia and his little crew may think they’ve gone unnoticed, but they haven’t. Not by me. Their efforts, like yours, amount to nothing.”

Hellsmoke lowered his hand slowly, grinding his teeth in frustration.

“Whatever. I don’t give a damn where you’re hiding. You’re not the target.”

He turned his gaze back toward the hulking, grotesque thing that had once been Emperor Sheldt—the mountain of twisted muscle and decaying humanity, still gorging itself like an animal, oblivious to their exchange.

“My goal,” Hellsmoke muttered, his voice low and cold, “is to kill that bloated freak you still call a king.”

Helio only laughed, the sound bubbling up loud and bright in the cavernous chamber.

“Aha ha ha ha ha! Kill His Majesty, you say? Impossible. Utterly futile. You could never do it.”

“You—”

“But since you’ve come all this way… His Majesty, a toy has arrived.”

“Ug… daa…?”

At Helio’s words, the monstrous mass finally turned its head toward Hellsmoke.

That single action was enough. Hellsmoke felt his body lock as if invisible hands had immobilized him. The presence before him evoked every kind of disgust: unsettling, sickening, biologically repulsive, and his limbs simply wouldn’t obey. What is this thing? The idea that the target he had come to kill might not even be human anymore tangled his mind in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

Then the thing moved.

Its motion was slow and terrible. Muscle rolled under mottled flesh; the creature’s bulk shifted like a living boulder, and Hellsmoke had barely time to register the momentum before the thing struck.

“—!”

He was hurled across the room. His body smashed into the stone wall with a sickening crack. Blood burst from his mouth as he tasted iron and pain.

“Gah—! Wh-What the—” he managed between coughs.

“DAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH—!”

There was no mercy. The creature—Sheldt, or whatever remained of him—unleashed a storm of fists. They fell with the careless force of someone crushing a rotten pillar; each blow shattered plaster, dented stone, and hammered Hellsmoke’s limbs until he could no longer stand. Even as someone who had pushed himself into the ranks of the Transcendants, Hellsmoke found his body broken and spat out like refuse.

From across the room, Helio’s eyes were alight.

“A-Amazing…! This is the Kaizell Empire’s…! No, the Weimar Empire’s secret technique!”

He laughed with a fervor that bordered on obsession. His voice, rapturous and unhinged, faded into the clamor of wreckage and Hellsmoke’s ragged, failing breaths; it no longer reached the man crumpled against the wall.

Just as Hellsmoke’s breath was starting to hitch in shallow, broken gasps—his body pulverized, consciousness flickering on the edge of darkness—Helio, as if suddenly remembering something, turned toward the creature beside him.

“Oh yes, yes… I nearly forgot. Your Majesty, that will be enough now.”

“Daa… daa? Gabi… gugeh… bububu…”

“Hyuu… hyuu…”

At Helio’s command, Sheldt, or rather the monstrous thing he had become, let out a few sputtering noises before withdrawing. Apparently satisfied, or perhaps simply losing interest, he turned away from Hellsmoke’s crumpled form and went back to gorging himself.

“Well then. As for this one—”

“I’ll be taking him,” someone said.

“—! Lord Yutis!”

The voice came without warning, crisp and serene, yet carrying with it an authority that made Helio instantly drop to one knee. Yutis had appeared without sound, as if conjured from shadow itself.

“May I?” he asked, glancing toward Hellsmoke. “I trust it’s no trouble if I take him?”

“O-Of course! Please, by all means… use him however you see fit!”

As Helio stammered through his approval, Yutis snapped his fingers.

A ripple of black mist enveloped Hellsmoke’s body. When it cleared, he was gone, vanished without a trace, not even the blood he’d spilled remaining on the floor.

“Hellsmoke, was it?” Yutis murmured, a trace of amusement curling on his lips. “Yes… he may prove quite useful.”

“Ah! So that’s your intent… to make him one of ours, then?” Helio said, his eyes lighting with admiration.

“That’s right.” Yutis answered with an elegant nod, his tone casual but laced with confidence. “In any case… it’s been a long time, Helio.”

“I-It has indeed, my lord!”

“There’s no need to be so formal. Thanks to you, the world has sunk into glorious chaos… and at long last, the Wicked One has returned.”

“—! T-The Wicked One… has truly returned?”

“Yes.”

At his confirmation, Helio trembled, overcome with emotion.

“O-Oh… finally… at last!”

“That’s right. However…”

“Hm? Is something wrong, my lord?”

Helio tilted his head, puzzled by Yutis’s reaction.

“Unfortunately,” he began with a faint sigh, “the Wicked One, having slumbered for so long, is not yet able to wield His full power.”

“—! Th-That’s terrible news…! Is He going to be all right?”

Yutis gave a small nod, calm but somber. “That is precisely why we must continue our work: filling the world with negativity, despair, and hatred. The more the world decays, the faster He will regain His strength.”

“But of course!” Helio exclaimed, instantly recovering his enthusiasm. “There are only a few regions left on this continent that we haven’t yet conquered. In fact, I was just considering the time ripe to launch an offensive on the neighboring continents as well.”

“That would be ideal,” Yutis said approvingly. “However… things have grown a little more complicated for the Cult of the Wicked One. Acting openly has become… unwise.”

“What do you mean?” Helio asked, his expression darkening in suspicion.

Yutis’s lips pressed into a tight line, his voice laced with distaste. “Someone, or perhaps some group, is systematically eliminating our members. We’ve also lost contact with Destora the Suredeath. That alone is a grave concern. We cannot deny the possibility that even he… has been taken down.”

“Y-You mean an Apostle has been defeated?!”

Though he bore the feared title of Phantom Mage, Helio was, in the end, merely an Apostle of the cult. Upon hearing of Destora’s potential demise, even he couldn’t hide his shock.

That was how terrifying the Apostles were.

Especially Destora… even among the Apostles, his abilities stood out as particularly monstrous.

He had once boasted, with complete conviction, that he could kill the Wicked One Himself… and that the only reason he hadn’t was because he simply didn’t feel like it.

And terrifyingly, the Wicked One had acknowledged this.

Even gods could not afford to dismiss Destora.

Humans, after all, were meant to be lesser—beings created by gods, who could be undone with a single stray thought from their makers. But Destora was different. He was one of those rare, irregular anomalies, not born from divine intent, but from chaos, chance, or something far older and more incomprehensible.

The same was true for Yutis and the other Apostles.

They were not beings granted their power. They were power itself, born from the cracks in reality where even gods had no control.

That existence… though reminiscent of the Fruit of Evolution, was fundamentally different. Destora’s ability had manifested naturally—an anomaly, yes, but still born from within the system of reality. The Fruit, on the other hand, was not of nature.

It had been forged in the unimaginable: a collision of divine forces—the gods and the Wicked One—a celestial clash so overwhelming, it birthed something completely outside the known bounds of existence.

Naturally occurring abilities, no matter how warped or divorced from divine origin, can still be detected, categorized, and understood.

But the Fruit of Evolution?

It defied even that.

It was a true unknown—an entity that not even gods or demons could fully comprehend. In a way, it was exactly the kind of food that Lulune had been dreaming of all this time.

As for Destora, bearer of the concept of Suredeath, he was believed to be unbeatable. No being across any space, time, dimension, or reality could escape his reach.

Or at least, that’s what had been believed.

Yutis’s voice grew quiet, touched with a cold clarity.

“If Destora’s whim had ended and he’d decided to move against us, we would already know. There wouldn’t be any warnings or games. And yet… nothing. Not even the Wicked One, nor I, nor Genpel have suffered any harm.”

Helio’s throat tightened as a disturbing possibility crept into his thoughts.

“C-Could it be that… Lord Destora is behind the disappearances?”

His voice trailed off, as if ashamed to finish the accusation.

Yutis gave a faint chuckle, his smile unreadable.

“That was one possibility. But… another, far more likely answer has revealed itself. Someone else has been hunting the Apostles. And they’ve been at it for quite some time now.”

Helio stared, stunned.

“S-Someone like that exists? But we, as Apostles, carry the power of the Wicked One himself! For us to fall to some… some nobody…”

“I thought the same,” Yutis said, eyes narrowing. “But those who marched on the Kingdom of Winburg and those sent to overtake Barbodel Magic Academy were all slain. And when I attempted to identify the cause using my power…”

A tense silence.

“I saw nothing.”

Helio’s face drained of color.

If Yutis—one of the Apostles, the highest beings under the Wicked One—was unable to trace their enemy… then something was very, very wrong.

Because even among Apostles, there were rules. Destora and Yutis were natural irregularities, not beings created by the Wicked One. They existed outside the divine order, but they still understood one another. Their powers couldn’t override each other, but they could perceive one another.

But this mysterious entity? It existed beyond even that balance.

And yet, despite everything, Yutis’s powers had no effect on it whatsoever.

“How infuriating… It may be premature to blame that one directly for our recent losses, but still… both the Kingdom of Winburg and the Valshe Empire survived the previous assaults. And now, they’re leading the charge in hunting down and purging the Cult of the Wicked One.”

“Ah, that reminds me… We’ve yet to hear back from the first unit we sent into the Valshe Empire. I’d assumed they were just enjoying themselves over there…”

“They were likely interfered with. Or wiped out entirely.”

“Th-That’s absurd! We sent in an entire team of Transcendants! Surely they couldn’t have been defeated so easily!”

“An unpredictable factor has entered the board. It’s not just the unknown presence that’s been disrupting our plans; Winburg’s Sword Knights have grown strong enough to stand against even our Apostles. And let’s not forget their queen—the ‘Lightning Empress,’ an S-Rank adventurer in her own right. She’s been sniffing around for some time now, and frankly, she’s become a serious nuisance.”

“I-I see…”

“That’s why, for the time being, I’ll be focusing on the tasks our master entrusted to me while quietly recruiting new pieces behind the scenes. I’ll also be warning the other Apostles not to draw unnecessary attention. As for you, since you’re the Grand Vizier of this nation, I want you to keep stirring chaos in the world above.”

“But of course! Leave it to me!”

Helio responded with zealous enthusiasm, and Yutis gave a satisfied nod before snapping his fingers.

At once, a vortex of shadow opened behind him, swirling like a tear in reality.

“Well then, I’ll be off… Oh, and that meat puppet over there—looks promising, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Lord Yutis! We used a forbidden ritual passed down through the Valshe Empire. The results speak for themselves!”

“The power is impressive, certainly… though it’s unfortunate there’s no intelligence or will to speak of. Still, it’ll serve well enough as a pawn. I’m counting on you to make good use of it.”

“Understood!”

Once more, Helio dropped to one knee as Yutis vanished into the shadows, leaving behind only a whisper of darkness.

As the last trace of his magic faded, Helio slowly stood and allowed his thoughts to drift back to the one known as Hellsmoke, who had already been taken away for further experimentation.

“Honestly… Did he really think killing the king would set this world right? What a sweet little fantasy. As long as human greed exists, hell will never end. He’ll be lucky if he’s reborn as one of our pawns.”

With a sneer, Helio cast a cold glance at the grotesque creature Sheldt had become—a hulking mass of misshapen flesh—and then turned, sweeping out of the chamber without a word.

Chapter 15: Toward the Next Goal

After freeing Zephal, Routier’s father, we safely returned to our own world. But once we were back, it was time to part ways with Routier and Zephal.

“I know I’ve said this already, but… thank you. Truly.”

“If it weren’t for all of you, my father wouldn’t have made it. Thank you so much.”

The two of them bowed deeply in unison, which made the rest of us panic a little.

“Please, lift your heads! We’re just glad we could help, really.”

“Yeah! And honestly, I didn’t do anything! Seiichi took care of everything all on his own!”

“She’s right. This whole thing would’ve been over even if it was just Seiichi there.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Y-Yes! If anything, I was the one slowing everyone down…”

“Well, I did get to try some mysterious food, so I guess I should be grateful for that.”

One person clearly missed the point… but still, every one of us told Routier not to worry about it.

Honestly, Saria and Al keep saying I did everything myself, but it never really felt that hard. Saria was the first to notice something was off with Routier’s dad. Al kept a cool head through it all and kept the rest of us grounded. They both contributed more than enough.

“If you ever have a chance to visit the Demon Kingdom, we’ll give you the warmest welcome possible.”

“Well then… until we meet again.”

With those parting words, the two of them turned and headed back to the Demon Kingdom.

Watching them go, something suddenly struck me—we never saw Sheep.

Even though Zephal, the Demon King who’d been sealed away, was now freed, it didn’t seem like the dungeon had been marked as fully conquered. Last time, even without a true clear, Sheep still showed up with a letter. But this time, not even that.

Well, I guess we didn’t teleport back to the entrance like usual. We came out somewhere else entirely. Maybe that’s why.

But then… what are the actual conditions for a true conquest?

No matter how much I thought about it… I couldn’t figure it out. That sheep better not have forgotten about me. You still alive out there, buddy?

The thought crossed my mind, but with no message and no sign of Sheep, I was left without answers.

After that, we made our way back to Terbelle without any issues. It had been a long day, and with everything that had happened, we all went straight to bed.

Then the next morning—

We were all gathered at The Tranquil Tree, the inn we were staying at, sharing breakfast together.

“Well, there’s nothing we urgently need to deal with for now…” Al muttered thoughtfully, stretching her arms behind her head. “So what do we do? We haven’t taken on any requests lately… Maybe it’s time we picked one up?”

As she spoke, Saria shot her hand up with sparkling energy.

“Ooh! I wanna go visit the orphanage!”

“Me too…” Origa said softly, nodding in agreement beside her.

Zora blinked at the two of them, tilting her head in confusion.

“U-Um… What’s an orphanage, exactly?”

“Oh, right. You’ve been in a dungeon this whole time, huh?” Al said, turning toward her. “An orphanage is a place that takes care of kids who don’t have parents. They raise them until a certain age. Depending on the country, the facilities and government support vary, but here in the Kingdom of Winburg? They offer better care than almost anywhere else.”

“Wow… That sounds amazing,” Zora murmured, genuinely impressed as she nodded.

Just then, Origa quietly tugged at the hem of Zora’s sleeve.

“Zora-oneechan…”

“Yes? What is it?”

“You should come with us too…”

“M-Me? You want me to come?” Zora blinked in surprise. “B-But… I mean, look at me…”

She trailed off, lifting her hand to her hair—or rather, to the writhing mass of snakes that made up her “hair.” Being of the serpentkin, Zora’s head was crowned with living serpents instead of standard locks. We were all used to it by now, but it was clear she was still worried about scaring the children.

“It’s okay!” Saria beamed. “The kids are all super sweet!”

“Everyone gets along,” Origa added with a tiny nod.

“And besides,” Saria went on proudly, “they were so excited when I transformed into a monster!”

“W-Wait, hold on—Saria?!” I blurted out. “You transformed into Goria at the orphanage?!”

“Huh? Yeah, I did!”

I couldn’t help but react. That bit of news definitely needed a follow-up.

So she’d already gone full monster in front of the kids… and they were happy about it? Seriously? Man… those kids are made of stronger stuff than I thought.

When I went to pick Saria up from the orphanage, she’d been in her human form, so I’d just assumed she’d stayed that way.

“The caretakers at the orphanage are really kind,” Saria said with a cheerful smile. “I think Zora-chan would have a great time there too!”

“Zora-oneechan is kind…” Origa added quietly. “I bet the kids will love her.”

“R-Really? You think so?” Zora asked hesitantly, her fingers curling into the hem of her sleeve.

“Well, you won’t know until you try,” Al said with a shrug. “In this town? Hair made of snakes is basically just a cute personality trait.”

“Wait, what? Snake hair counts as a cute personality trait?!”

It kind of does around here…

Al wasn’t exaggerating. In this town—or rather, especially around the crowd at the Guild Headquarters—everyone’s so wildly unique that Zora’s hair barely registers as strange. Just yesterday, when we dropped off those kids, they were playing tag with soldiers as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

As I found myself staring into the distance, Al turned toward Lulune.

“By the way, Lulune… what about you?”

“Me?” Lulune tilted her head, then placed a hand on her stomach. “Well, I’m hungry, so I think I’ll eat something!”

“We’re literally eating right now,” Al said flatly.

How are you hungry while you’re in the middle of a meal? That makes no sense. Is this because she ate that seed I smacked her way? Did it mess up her evolution somehow? I mean, yeah, Lulune’s eaten a Fruit of Evolution before, but still…

“Ahh… well, whatever,” I sighed. “Let’s just let Lulune do her thing.”

“Wait, what?! That’s it?!” she cried, looking betrayed.

“Altria-oneechan’s judgment is sound,” Origa murmured with a small nod.

“In any case,” I said, looking around at everyone, “it sounds like you all have things you want to do. So—”

“Hm?” Al interrupted, suddenly cutting herself off mid-thought.

She turned to look straight at me.

And it wasn’t just her. Saria, Origa, Zora, and even Lulune all had their eyes fixed on me now.

“Wh-What?” I asked, leaning back instinctively.

“What do you mean by ‘what’?” Al raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t said what you’re doing yet.”

“Huh? Me?”

“Yeah, exactly,” Al said, folding her arms as she stared me down. “You’re the only one who hasn’t said what you’re doing today. So… I mean, if you’re free or whatever, y-you could… maybe take a request with me?”

Her voice faltered, and her cheeks turned red. It was a rare sight to see Al flustered and awkward. And honestly, the offer was pretty tempting.

Before I could stop myself, the words slipped out of my mouth in a quiet murmur.

“I just… want a day off.”

“Huh?” Al blinked in confusion, clearly not expecting that answer.

The others glanced around at each other, sharing the same stunned expression.

“A d-day off… like, what? You mean going out shopping on a holiday or something?” Saria asked hesitantly.

“I mean, yeah, that’s one way to do it… but I was thinking more like…” I looked up at the ceiling, searching for the right words. “I just… wanna have fun.”

“Have fun?” Al echoed, her brow furrowing as she gave me a puzzled look.

Then her expression shifted, as if something had suddenly clicked.

“Right… You’re from another world, aren’t you?” Al asked, tilting her head. “So how do people in your world spend their days off?”

“Huh? Well… let’s see. You’d go hang out with friends, maybe go somewhere fun…”

Not that I ever had that kind of experience in high school, thanks to all the bullying. The last time I did anything remotely like that was back in elementary school.

“Or just stay home and be lazy,” I added.

Al frowned, looking almost offended. “That’s it? You get a whole day off, and you waste it lying around doing nothing?”

“You’d be surprised how common that actually is,” I replied with a shrug. “Especially once you’re an adult. Depending on where you work, some people are so drained they literally spend their entire day off sleeping.”

I know not everyone is like that… but it’s not exactly rare either.

“All right then,” Al said, squinting at me. “Let me flip the question. Isn’t there anything you can only do in your world on a day off?”

“Only in my world?”

That seemed to catch the others’ attention, too. Saria leaned in with sparkling eyes.

“Ooh, yeah! I wanna know!”

The rest of the group nodded in agreement, clearly curious.

But when it came to things that were unique to Earth… the obvious answers were stuff like amusement parks, arcades, places built just for fun.

And yeah, there are some entertainment venues in this world… but they’re all aimed at adults.

Places with hostesses, gambling halls, stuff like that. Not exactly family-friendly destinations.

Honestly, there’s nothing here like an amusement park where families can go to laugh and play together…

Arcades, for instance, relied on Earth’s unique energy source—electricity—and intricate machines, so there was no way something like that would exist in this world.

Amusement parks, on the other hand… if you incorporated magic, they could probably create attractions that were even more exciting than the ones back on Earth.

As I finished explaining, Al nodded with a thoughtful expression, genuinely impressed.

“Wow… so in your world, there are places where anyone can just go and have fun, huh?”

“Amusement parks sound fun,” Origa said softly, her eyes lighting up with quiet curiosity.

“Right? I’d love to go sometime!” Saria added with a grin, practically bouncing in her seat.

Hearing her say that got me thinking.

Wait a minute… is it actually possible for me to go back to Earth someday?

I mean, we’ve already traveled between planets. Interplanetary travel was a thing now. That much had been proven.

Yeah… I feel like it might actually be doable.

Of course, it’s not something I could check right away. Not with the Cult of the Wicked One still stirring up trouble. And if I were going to return seriously, I’d want to do it when Shouta and my senior Kannazuki were around.

“Then how about this?” Al said, folding her arms. “Is there anything in this world that’s similar to what you did back on… what was it? ‘Earth’?”

“Huh?” I blinked. “Well, let’s see…”

Al leaned in, egging me on. “Remember how hot it was in the Wailing Lands? What would you usually do on days like that?”

“Oh, summer stuff? Well, back on Earth, we’d go to pools or the beach to cool off and relax. Swimming, playing in the water, that sort of… wait.”

I stopped mid-sentence, something dawning on me.

Come to think of it… I’ve never gone to the ocean in this world.

“Huh?” Saria tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, technically, there was that one time… when I dumped a bunch of Kaizell Empire soldiers and one of the Cult’s Apostles into the ocean… along with the land they were standing on…”

Al squinted at me in disbelief. “And it didn’t occur to you that there might be something insane about that situation?”

Yup. No arguments here.

She’s absolutely right. What the hell was I even doing? Just going with the flow, I guess. That whole scene’s a walking disaster. Honestly, I updated my personal cringe archive just yesterday, too…

“A-Anyway,” I said, clearing my throat, “what I’m trying to say is I’ve never really gotten to enjoy the sea here. You know, like properly.”

“The ocean, huh…” Al muttered, crossing her arms. “Now that you mention it, it’s been years since I’ve been that way myself.”

“What’s the ocean like?” Saria asked innocently, tilting her head.

“Huh? Wait… Saria, you don’t know what the ocean is?” I blinked, surprised.

Saria looked genuinely puzzled, which made Al’s eyes go wide with shock.

“Nope! Before I started traveling with Seiichi, I lived in the forest the whole time!”

“I know you’re technically a monster… but thinking about a beautiful girl like you living alone in the forest all her life… Man, that’s just hard to wrap my head around,” Al muttered.

“Huhh?! Al just called me beautiful! He he!” Saria giggled, cheeks flushed with delight.

“Yeah, and it really doesn’t match up,” Al added dryly.

Still, Saria beamed with a bashful grin. She was so cute it was almost easy to forget that deep down… she was a gorilla. A really adorable gorilla, but still.

“Well, that explains Saria,” I said. “But what about the rest of you? Like Origa and Zora, have you two ever seen the ocean?”

“N-No,” Zora said quickly, shaking her head. “I’ve heard the name before, but I’ve never actually seen it in person…”

“Me neither,” Origa added softly. “Even when I went to other countries on requests, I always traveled by land. I never visited any coastal nations.”

“I see…”

“That tickles,” Origa murmured as Al gently patted her on the head.

She’d probably been to more places than any of us back when she was under the Kaizell Empire’s control, but I doubt she ever got to actually enjoy any of them.

“And Lulune… well, never mind.”

“Huhh?!” Lulune cried. “Lady Al! Isn’t that a bit cruel, singling me out like that?!”

“I mean… I honestly don’t know how I’m supposed to handle you…” Al replied, looking exhausted already.

“If even Al, the party’s designated voice of reason, gives up on me, then I’ve got no hope left!” Lulune wailed. “You too, Master?!”

“Hey, it’s not like I want to be the one constantly pointing things out,” Al said, sighing. “If you all acted like normal people, I wouldn’t have to say anything.”

“Wait, are you saying I’m not normal either?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re the least normal one here!” she snapped.

This makes no sense.

No way Lulune’s way less “normal” than I am. Just look at her. You can’t tell me that’s what a regular person looks like. I should be offended.

I let out a sigh and shrugged. “Whatever. But hey, if none of you’ve ever been to the ocean, then this might be the perfect chance to go.”

“Yay! A group trip!” Saria cheered, her voice full of excitement.

“Well, not right away,” Al added quickly. “You all had stuff you wanted to do today, right? Like Saria and Origa said. Let’s each do our own thing today, then head for the ocean tomorrow or something.”

“Agreed!” we all replied in unison.

It was a good call on Al’s part, and the rest of us were happy to go along with it.

As we were wrapping up breakfast, the inn’s waitress and resident poster girl, Mary, came over to collect our empty dishes, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey, hey, Seiichi-san,” she said, leaning in mischievously. “Are you guys going to the ocean?”

“Hm? Yeah,” I replied with a nod. “We just decided.”

“Oooh, lucky you,” she said, smirking. “Going to the beach surrounded by such cute girls… Seiichi-san, you’re living the dream.”

“I-I mean, yeah, I guess so…” I mumbled, suddenly flustered.

Now that she mentioned it, I was about to go to the beach with a group of incredibly cute girls: Saria, Al, Origa, Zora, Lulune… Yeah, okay. That realization hit me all at once, sending a wave of embarrassment through my body.

Saria kept smiling as if nothing had changed, but even Al, who was usually composed, had turned red and was now fidgeting awkwardly.

“But still,” Mary added, tilting her head, “why the sudden decision to go to the ocean?”

“Huh? Oh yeah…” Saria blinked. “I get that Seiichi wanted to go since he hadn’t been before, but… why’d you say you wanted a day off in the first place?”

“Ah… right,” I said, glancing up as I tried to retrace the events. “Well, think about it. We just got back from a dungeon yesterday, right?”

“True,” Al nodded.

“And before that, we were in another dungeon with Helen. Then, somehow, without even realizing it, I ended up in the Valshe Empire and got roped into a war. And then I chucked the entire enemy force into the sea…”

“Wait, WHAT?” Mary’s voice cracked. “You got caught up in a war? And excuse me… what do you mean you threw the enemy into the sea?!”

“Ah, thank goodness…” Al muttered with visible relief. “I was starting to think I was the crazy one… but no, that reaction’s totally normal.”

“Wait, what?! Altria-san, why are you crying?!” Mary cried, pointing in disbelief. “Every word out of Seiichi-san’s mouth has been pure nonsense!”

“It’s all true, though,” I said casually.

“I’m going to lose my mind. I’m going back to work,” Mary muttered, holding her head like she had a migraine before stumbling off to return to her duties. Honestly? Rude.

“Well, anyway,” I said, brushing it off, “the point is, a lot’s happened lately. Things have been pretty hectic. Not that I’m physically tired or anything; in fact, I feel fine. And being an adventurer is kind of a freelance job, right? You take on requests, or you don’t. It’s not like I’m tied to a schedule, so it’s not even like I feel like I’m really working and… Wait, then why do I want a break?”

“How should I know?!” Al snapped. “That’s exactly what we’ve been asking you!”

Wait… crap. Am I thinking like a corporate drone right now? Have I become a workaholic without realizing it?

“R-Right! Mental fatigue! I’ve got emotional stress! Probably… Maybe. Or not? Ugh, why do I want a break?!”

“Yeah, no. You’re taking a break,” Al said with a dead-serious expression.

This is bad. If I keep going like this, I’ll turn into one of those people who literally forget what a day off is.

No, Al’s right. I have to rest. For my own sake, if nothing else.

“Haaah…” I sighed. “Yeah, now that I think about it, I really have been busy. And it’s not like we’ve got any urgent quests right now. Taking a break while we can doesn’t sound so bad.”

“I agree,” Origa said quietly. “Last night, after we got back, I stopped by the information broker to ask about the Cult of the Wicked One. But it doesn’t seem like they’re moving at the moment. As for the Kaizell Empire, they haven’t made another move since they failed to invade the Kingdom of Winburg.”

Wait… she went to an information broker last night?! That’s amazing. I’m more shocked that such a profession actually exists than I am by the fact that Origa knows how to use one.

And just like that, with no enemies breathing down our necks and no deadlines hanging over our heads, we decided on our next destination.

We were going to the ocean.

※※※

While Seiichi and the others were finalizing their plans for a seaside getaway, far away—hidden in the ruins of an abandoned village on the outskirts of the Kaizell Empire—the empire’s summoned heroes, Karen Kannazuki, Shouta Takamiya, and their companions were…

“H-Huh?! Seiichi-kun in a swimsuit?!”

“Wait, did you just say Sei-chan is going to the beach?! In a swimsuit?!”

“What the hell are you two even talking about?” Shouta muttered coldly.

Karen and Airi looked absolutely stricken, like the sky had fallen. Their faces were twisted in despair, as if they had just learned the world was ending. Shouta, meanwhile, stared at them with the emotional investment of a man watching paint dry.

They were supposed to be in hiding, after all, taking refuge in a forsaken village far from the Kaizell Empire’s reach.

And yet… this was their concern.

Karen and Airi stared at him in disbelief, like they were questioning his very humanity.

“Shouta… do you really not understand?” Karen said, her voice trembling. “Seiichi-kun… in a swimsuit… in front of other girls. This is a disaster!”

“Right?! This isn’t a drill! This is a situation!” Airi added with dramatic flair. “How can you just sit there like it’s nothing?!”

“Okay, wait… am I the one who’s wrong here?” Shouta asked, looking around helplessly.

“No idea,” came a calm voice beside him.

The one who replied wasn’t Karen or Airi; it was none other than Blud, a former student of Class F, the same class Seiichi had once taught.

Shouta turned to him. “Seriously. You get it, right?”

Blud remained unshaken. “Focus. Even if this is the frontier, that doesn’t guarantee safety. Soldiers could still pass through. The Kaizell Empire’s been stirring up conflict all over the continent lately. It wouldn’t be strange if they’ve already dispatched troops in this direction.”

“Tch…” Karen bit her lip in frustration.

“Yeah… if we get spotted, it’s all over,” Airi admitted, visibly sulking.

Blud’s voice, calm and logical, seemed to pierce through their emotional theatrics, and both girls fell into reluctant silence.

But how had Karen and the others ended up traveling with Blud in the first place?

The truth was… a string of coincidences.

After the closure of Barbodel Magic Academy, Blud had returned to his homeland: the Kaizell Empire.

Returning home came with baggage—namely, his older brother and First Prince of the Empire, Theobolt. It was obvious Blud would be hounded by him the moment he stepped foot back inside the capital.

So Blud didn’t wait. As soon as he returned, he took his loyal maid Lilian and fled. But Theobolt was already one step ahead. He anticipated the escape and closed in with his personal knights, ready to capture Blud, and ensure he was punished.

And just when things looked grim—

“I’m back.”

“Hey, brought some food!”

“No signs of trouble outside!”

Three familiar voices rang out: Agnos, Berard, and Leon had arrived.

The three had gone their separate ways after leaving the academy, but they’d all remained worried about Blud’s situation. Agnos had taken the lead, gathering Berard and Leon, and the three had come together to help Blud just in time.

Thanks to the timely rescue, Blud and his companions had successfully escaped the imperial capital. Now, they were hiding deep in the frontier, holed up in an abandoned village so remote it had long been forgotten by civilization.

Meanwhile, the heroes summoned by the Kaizell Empire had also begun relocating after the closure of the Barbodel Magic Academy. But in the middle of that process, Karen Kannazuki had made a bold suggestion: to break away from the main group. Following her lead, she and her closest allies slipped away and eventually found their way to the very village where Blud had taken refuge.

Fortunately, the soldiers of the Kaizell Empire weren’t expecting anyone to attempt escape. Because of the Armlets of Subordination clamped around the heroes’ wrists, they assumed resistance was impossible. The idea that someone might flee never crossed their minds, so their surveillance had been lax, and that lapse had given Karen her opening.

The way the soldiers had begun treating them lately had been the final sign. Karen had sensed it. Their status as heroes was slipping; soon, they would no longer be guests or honored warriors; they would be tools. Weapons. She could feel that day coming. And though she’d hesitated, wondering if it was right to abandon the others, she’d finally made her choice. She’d acted.

Those who followed her were a tight-knit circle: her childhood friend Shouta Takamiya, Airi, and Airi’s small group of friends.

And—

“U-Um… Are you sure it was really okay for us to run away like that?”

That uncertain voice belonged to Youko Hino.

Her presence here was no accident. Karen had personally invited her.

Why?

Because she had learned something that shook her: back when Seiichi had been bullied, when no one else had lifted a finger, Hino had been the one to reach out to him.

Something I couldn’t do…

For Karen, that made Hino someone worth respecting… and someone she couldn’t ignore. She admired her. Envied her. And, above all, believed she was worth saving.

She also remembered the time Seiichi had stepped in to protect Hino from a group of delinquent girls. That memory had left a strong impression on her. After that, Karen had begun keeping an eye on Hino, watching from afar. And when she found out that Seiichi had removed the Armlet of Subordination from Hino’s wrist, just as he had for her and Airi…

There’s no way I could leave her behind after that.

Of course… the fact that Hino was now the third girl Seiichi had freed from those armlets made both Karen and Airi a bit… uneasy.

Still, what mattered now was that they’d escaped. Karen and her group had shaken off the Empire’s control, and now they were staying as far from towns and settlements as possible. They moved cautiously, traveling through uninhabited forests and wild terrain to avoid detection.

It had been sheer coincidence.

While out hunting for food, Agnos, Berard, and Leon had stumbled across Karen’s group in the forest. Recognizing each other from their academy days, they’d exchanged updates and information. And before long, they’d naturally begun traveling and living together.

Now, the freshly hunted monsters were being butchered, with Berard and Leon working in tandem to break down the carcasses. Agnos could handle the task if needed, but given his naturally rough approach, the job was better left to the more precise hands of his companions.

The meat was passed along to Lilian, Blud’s personal maid. Calm and competent as ever, she moved smoothly into cooking preparation, her hands a blur as she lit the fire and began seasoning with a skill that suggested years of training.

Even the heroes had started pitching in: Youko Hino, along with Eri, Shouta’s girlfriend, took the lead in assisting with prep and logistics.

As they all worked together, Shouta glanced over at Berard and the others, then turned to Blud.

“Still… we’re all just sitting here like this. What exactly are you planning to do?”

Blud closed his eyes in silence for a moment before answering.

“If I had it my way,” he said quietly, “I’d live out the rest of my life in peace. But given my position, that’s not something I can afford.”

“Huh? What the hell does your ‘position’ matter now?” Agnos interjected with a scoff. “Screw all that political crap. Just ditch the Empire and head to another country.”

“Agnos,” Blud said, opening his eyes and fixing him with a level gaze, “even you understand it’s not that simple. The Kaizell Empire has already swallowed up nearly every nation on this continent. There’s nowhere left to run.”

“Didn’t you say the Kingdom of Winburg is still standing? Sounds like a plan to me. Let’s head there.”

“That peace won’t last,” Blud replied firmly. “Even now, Kaizell’s soldiers have begun acting… unnaturally. And besides, the Kingdom of Winburg is far from here. Reaching it would mean crossing through multiple border nations. Especially for those fleeing Kaizell, the roads and checkpoints leading into Winburg will be under heavy watch.”

“But why?” Shouta asked, his brow furrowing. “Why go so far just to keep people from leaving?”

“The answer’s obvious,” Blud said coldly. “If citizens escape, the nobles lose revenue. And they can’t have that.”

Karen let out a sharp breath. “Hmph… I already knew that, but hearing it laid out like that really drives home how rotten this empire is.”

“K-Kannazuki-senpai!” Shouta said quickly, flinching. He moved to stop her, but Blud simply shook his head, unbothered.

He didn’t disagree.

“That’s just how it is. It’s the truth. This village—this ruined, forgotten place—was one of many that collapsed under the weight of my father’s relentless taxation.”

“That’s awful…”

Shouta could only whisper the words, stunned. Across from him, Blud stared off into the distance, his expression distant.

“You may not believe me when I say this,” he began softly, “but the Kaizell Empire wasn’t always like this.”

“Hah? Give me a break,” Agnos snapped, scoffing with disbelief. “You seriously expect us to swallow that?”

Blud didn’t react to the jab. He neither flinched nor argued.

“I don’t blame you for doubting me. But it’s the truth. Back when my grandfather ruled—not my father—the Empire didn’t wage war on its neighbors. It was a peaceful nation.”

“Huh… Now that you mention it,” Berard muttered as he finished dressing the last of the meat. “Things only started spiraling after the Previous Emperor stepped down.”

Blud nodded gravely.

“Exactly. Just as Berard says, everything changed the moment my father inherited the throne. He’s the one who twisted the Empire into what it is now.”

“Are you serious?” Agnos frowned. “What happened to your granddad? Did he die of old age or something?”

“No. He was still young… but he fell victim to a curse. He hasn’t woken up since.”

“A curse…”

In this world, curses were no small matter. They were powerful, insidious forces—and once afflicted, there was no known way to break them. If Blud’s grandfather had succumbed to one and become unable to rule, then it made sense why the throne had passed to his son, Sheldt.

And Sheldt… had led the Empire down this dark path.

“In any case,” Blud continued quietly, “I’ve long wanted to change things… but I lack the strength to make that happen. All I’ve done is drift, paralyzed by how little I can do.”

“I get it,” Shouta said, nodding slowly.

Then Blud shifted his gaze toward the others. “And what about you?” he asked. “You are heroes, summoned by the Empire itself, and yet you chose to flee. There must be some goal behind that decision, no?”

His question struck a chord, but truthfully, Shouta and the others had no clear answer.

They didn’t know where they were going. Not yet. They only knew one thing: whatever that hero group had become… they couldn’t follow it any longer. Something deep in their gut had warned them. If they stayed, they’d lose themselves.

And so they had run.

Just then, the one who had been quietly leading their ragtag group from the start, Karen Kannazuki, finally broke her silence.

“Our goal…” she said calmly, “is to reach Seiichi-kun.”

“…!”

Her words sent a ripple through the group—not just Shouta and the other heroes, but even Blud, Berard, and the others looked stunned.

But Karen continued, utterly unfazed by the weight of the surprise.

“I’ve completely given up on the rest of the hero party,” she said firmly. “As long as I have the people here with me, and Seiichi-kun, that’s enough. That’s why our first priority is finding him.”

“I see,” Blud murmured. “But… do you actually know where he is?”

“No,” Karen replied without hesitation. “But one thing’s certain… wherever he is, the Kaizell Empire hasn’t gotten to him yet. That narrows it down to one of two places: either the Kingdom of Winburg or the Valshe Empire. But I’m convinced he’s in Winburg.”

“That’s…” Blud began, instinctively ready to object. Her logic was flimsy at best, built more on gut feeling than anything substantial.

But as he opened his mouth, a flood of memories stopped him—memories of Seiichi. All the wild, ridiculous, impossible things that boy had done.

He couldn’t say a word.

Neither could Berard nor the others. Their eyes widened as the same realization dawned on them.

“I’m actually speechless,” Blud muttered. “I can’t find a single reason to deny it.”

“I-I mean, if Seiichi-sensei’s involved, the Kaizell Empire probably wouldn’t matter at all,” said Youko Hino, flustered as she realized she’d spoken out of turn. “Ah… sorry! I shouldn’t have interrupted!”

Despite the stunned silence that had fallen over them, Karen’s confidence only grew. She straightened her posture, her voice rising with conviction.

“Besides,” she added, “I do have a decisive reason for believing Seiichi-kun is in the Kingdom of Winburg, and not the Valshe Empire.”

“Oh? And what would that be?” Shouta asked cautiously.

Karen drew in a deep breath, her expression as serious as ever.

“My intuition.”

“…”

A silence heavier than lead descended upon them. The air practically crystallized.

This… this was her decisive evidence?

Karen, who had just delivered a string of surprisingly logical reasoning and even pointed out a few sharp, insightful observations along the way, had ended her argument with that?

Even so, all those present—except for Youko Hino, who had already witnessed the full extent of Karen’s bizarre personality in the Barbodel Magic Academy’s Home Ec room—found themselves… uncomfortably convinced.

Somehow, it made perfect sense.

“My intuition,” Karen declared again, this time with even more gravity.

“You don’t need to say it twice!” Shouta fired back instantly, his voice exasperated.

Karen blinked in confusion. “Then why are you all so quiet?”

“Because we’re trying to come to terms with the fact that your intuition is somehow… the most convincing logic we’ve heard all day!” he shouted.

She tilted her head slightly, still not understanding what the problem was.

All except Airi, who quietly nodded to herself.

“I get it. I really do. You just know, right? You can feel which direction Seiichi-kun’s in.”

Karen’s expression brightened. “As expected of Airi-chan. Honestly, you’re the only one who truly understands. This is why amateur Seiichi fans can’t be trusted.”

“‘Amateur Seiichi fans’?! What the hell does that even mean?!”

I can’t keep up with this anymore… Shouta thought, nearly collapsing from the sheer absurdity.

Karen clapped her hands together with finality. “In any case, we’re heading for the Kingdom of Winburg.”

“I get that,” said Blud, arms crossed. “But like I told you, the roads leading there are crawling with Kaizell patrols.”

“That, too, has been accounted for,” Karen said with complete confidence. “We may be escapees, but don’t forget that we’re among the most capable of the heroes. We’ll break through. And if we treat this as a trial of love for Seiichi-kun, then honestly, it’ll be too easy.”

“Your resolve is impressive,” Blud admitted. No matter how strange her reasons were, the way Karen moved forward despite the danger… there was a brilliance to it.

“Which brings me to my next point,” she said cheerfully. “Why don’t you come with us, Blud-kun?”

“Huh?”

The offer caught him completely off guard, and he let out a dumbfounded sound before catching himself.

“You’re lost, aren’t you? Unsure what to do next,” Karen continued. “Then just come with us. Figure things out after we get to Winburg.”

“I-I can’t just…”

“You can make excuses later,” she said, stepping forward, her voice gentle but firm. “You don’t need a perfect reason right now. What matters is moving forward.”

She smiled faintly.

“And besides… Seiichi-kun’s there.”

That sealed it.

“A hundred percent. You should go,” Agnos said without hesitation.

“I agree,” added Berard with a nod.

“Y-Yeah…” Youko chimed in timidly.

Blud stared at them, speechless. “You traitors…”

But even as he sighed at how quickly his companions had jumped on board, he couldn’t deny the small fire stirring in his chest.

“All right… Fine,” he said finally. “Even if the road ahead is treacherous… as long as I get to see Seiichi-sensei, everything will fall into place.”

And so, with their decision made, Karen’s group and Blud’s party began preparations to travel together toward the Kingdom of Winburg: the place where their answers, their hopes, and perhaps their futures awaited.

Bonus Chapter 1: Zora and the Orphanage

After settling on the beach as their next destination, the group scattered to pursue their own plans for the day. Al asked Seiichi to spar with her, hoping to keep her skills sharp. Lulune, of course, had embarked on another food crawl, driven by an appetite that defied reason. Meanwhile, Saria, Origa, and Zora made their way toward the orphanage.

“We’re here to play, Miss Clare!” Saria called out as the front door creaked open.

“Hello,” Origa added in her usual soft tone.

“G-Good afternoon!” Zora stammered, clearly nervous.

The woman who greeted them was Clare, the orphanage’s headmistress and a sister of the Belfeuille Church. She greeted Saria and Origa with her usual lazy smile, eyes crinkling with warmth, only to blink in surprise when she noticed Zora standing just behind them. Her head tilted in curiosity.

Zora noticed the look and quickly bowed her head. “U-Um… My name is Zora. I was invited along by Saria and Origa today, and…”

She didn’t get to finish.

“A third angel?! Are you kidding me?!”

Clare let out a dramatic yell, lunging forward to embrace Zora tightly, her eyes wide with amazement as if she had just seen a miracle.

“What’s going on with your friend group, Saria-chan?! Are you only allowed to hang out with angels?! Is that the rule?! Am I dead? Is this the afterlife?”

“A-Ah… um?!” Zora flailed helplessly in the sister’s grasp.

“She’s super cute, right?” Saria said with a sunny grin.

“Mm… Zora-oneechan’s really pretty,” Origa added with a small nod.

“S-Saria-san? Origa-chan?!”

Overwhelmed by the unfamiliar intensity of Clare’s excitement and by the fact that no one seemed fazed by her appearance, Zora could only look around in a daze. She’d never met someone so… forward.

Fortunately, Clare realized she was going overboard. With a sheepish, almost regretful expression, she finally let go and took a step back. “Sorry… I got a little excited,” she admitted, scratching her cheek.

“N-No, it’s fine. But… aren’t you scared of me?” Zora asked hesitantly.

Even if she kept her eyes averted to avoid using her petrifying gaze, her hair—no, the countless snakes that made up her hair—was more than enough to frighten people away. She had always assumed that was just a given.

But Clare only tilted her head again, genuinely puzzled.

“Scared? Why would I be? You’re adorable.”

Zora’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

“See?” Saria said with a bright smile. “Told you so.”

Zora had braced herself to be rejected. She had come prepared to be treated like a monster. But instead… she’d been hugged.

Completely speechless, she simply stood there, heart pounding in a strange, unfamiliar rhythm.

Just as the girls stepped through the orphanage gates, a chorus of excited voices rang out from within.

“Ah! Saria-oneechan’s here!”

“Origa-chan too!”

“Huh? What about Seiichi-oniichan?”

“Nah, who needs him. I’m fine without!”

“Sensei, I need to pee!”

Children poured out of the chapel like a flood, tumbling into the courtyard in every direction. Their laughter filled the air with life and warmth. Then their curious eyes caught sight of the unfamiliar figure behind Saria and Origa, and lit up with wonder.

“Whoa! A new oneechan!” one child gasped.

“Look, she has snakes!” another shouted in awe.

“That’s so cool!”

“No, it’s cute!”

“Nuh-uh, she’s really pretty!”

“W-Wait, um—!” Zora stammered, panic rising in her throat.

She wasn’t ready for this. The children closed in with absolutely no hesitation, none of the wariness or fear she’d steeled herself to face. Their wide-eyed curiosity and innocent compliments overwhelmed her completely.

Clare peeked out from behind the doorway, watching the growing commotion with a grin.

“Well, well,” Clare said with a gleam in her eye, “Zora-chan’s a hit. Of course she is… she’s an angel too!”

“Sensei’s got a nosebleed again!” one of the children called out.

“Her face looks just like that person we weren’t supposed to look at before,” another muttered.

“Pardon?!” Clare snapped. “Who just compared me to that freak at the Guild headquarters?!”

“Eek! Sensei’s mad!”

Giggling, the children scattered. Clare hiked up her habit and ran after them, shouting something about respect and discretion, which only made the kids laugh harder.

It was chaos, but the good kind. Zora stood frozen, staring in disbelief as Clare gave chase.

This place is insane, she thought. And yet… they’re not afraid of me?

As if to punctuate her surprise, someone tugged gently at her sleeve. She looked down and saw a small girl hugging a worn-out stuffed animal, her face glowing with a big, innocent smile.

“Come play with us too, oneechan?” the girl asked cheerfully.

Zora’s breath caught. “Y-Yes! I’d love to!”

Dragged by eager little hands, she was pulled into the swirl of games and laughter. At first, her movements were stiff, hesitant, unsure how to respond. But the children never stopped smiling. They laughed when her hair playfully wriggled, petted the snakes without fear, and called her “cool” and “pretty” in the same breath.

And somewhere along the way, before she even noticed, it stopped being scary.

Zora smiled.

Watching from the sidelines, Origa and Saria exchanged a quiet look.

“She looks happy,” Saria whispered, her voice gentle.

“Mm… Zora-oneechan’s smiling,” Origa replied.

“All right,” Saria said, clenching her fists in mock determination, “we can’t let her have all the fun! Let’s join in too!”

“Yeah.”

The two of them ran to join the games, laughter ringing around the orphanage courtyard. And just like that, Zora, who had once feared how others would see her, found herself spending a truly joyful day surrounded by warmth, friendship, and the unfiltered love of children.

Bonus Chapter 2: Altria and Seiichi’s Combat Training

After we’d decided on the beach as our next destination, Al asked me to help with some combat training, so we headed outside Terbelle for the session. The spot she picked was oddly nostalgic; it was the same place where I’d gathered herbs for the guild entrance test when I first arrived in this city.

Man… that day was a mess, I thought. I couldn’t even find the right herbs, and I ran into that bizarre trio of demons.

While I was lost in that memory, Al finished her warm-ups and readied her weapon.

“All right then… ready when you are,” she said, hefting her massive battle-axe onto her shoulder.

“Go for it,” I replied casually.

The instant the words left my mouth, Al charged.

“Take this!” she shouted.

“Whoop!” I dodged to the side with a quick sidestep.

This training session was all about dodging. Al would go all out with her attacks, and I’d focus solely on evading. It was a good way for me to hone my reflexes and movement, while she got to work on stamina and unleashing her full strength.

And she wasn’t holding back.

“Die, damn it!” Al roared, swinging her axe with terrifying force.

“Die?!” I gasped.

I barely ducked under the swing as the enormous axe slammed into the ground behind me. The earth cracked from the impact, chunks of dirt flying everywhere.

“Isn’t that a little much?!” I shouted, already leaping away from the next strike.

“I said I was going all out!” she barked. “Just shut up and take it!”

“Pretty sure ‘taking it’ defeats the whole point of this exercise!”

Dodge after dodge, I avoided every strike, but the sheer intensity of her attacks made me wonder if she wasn’t taking this a little too seriously.

While launching another swing, Al grimaced, shouting over the sound of her axe splitting the ground.

“You’re always off doing insane crap, dragging me into it… Do you ever think about how I feel?!”

“S-Sorry?!” I yelped.

I really was sorry. I had dragged her into a lot. Like, a lot a lot.

Still, her strikes didn’t slow. If anything, she was getting faster.

“I know you’re crazy strong! I get it!”

“R-Right!”

“But damn it… I worry about you, you know?!”

There was a rawness in her voice that stopped me cold, at least emotionally. My body kept moving, instinctively dodging another powerful blow.

That wasn’t just frustration in her tone. She was scared for me.

And suddenly, I understood what this sparring session was really about.

“—!”

The emotion behind Al’s words nearly stopped me in my tracks. But just as I faltered—

“That’s why, as punishment for making me worry, I’m gonna beat the crap outta you!” she growled.

“I-I politely decline!” I yelped, barely managing to dodge another heavy blow.

Her attacks were still intense, but I could tell: she was tiring. Throwing herself into every strike with full force had drained her stamina. Her swings, though still dangerous, were losing that sharp edge.

And then, as she pushed forward for one last, desperate charge, her foot caught the earth awkwardly.

“Ah!” she gasped.

“Gotcha,” I said quickly, reaching out and catching her just before she could fall.

The next thing I knew, I was holding her… really holding her. Arms around her, close. Too close.

“Whoa! S-Sorry!” I stammered, realizing how it must’ve looked. I started to pull away, but…

Al didn’t move.

“Uh… Al?” I asked hesitantly.

She didn’t look up. Her voice was low.

“Don’t make me worry like that, idiot.”

“Oh…” I softened. “Sorry. And… thanks for worrying about me.”

“Hmph,” she muttered, still not meeting my eyes.

Moved by the rare tenderness in her voice, I instinctively raised a hand and gently stroked her head. For a long moment, she didn’t react.

Then—

“TAKE THIS!!”

“Guh—?!”

A solid punch to my gut knocked the wind out of me. It didn’t hurt, but I still staggered back in surprise.

“Wha—Why?!” I wheezed.

Al stepped away, turning her back to me, arms crossed. Her voice came out sharp, but not without a hint of satisfaction.

“Consider that my way of forgiving you.”

Even with her back turned, I could see the tips of her ears glowing bright red. That alone brought the heat rising to my face, too.

Oh man… I hugged her. I hugged Al.

Before I could dwell on it further, she threw a glance over her shoulder.

“Anyway, I’m starving. You’re buying.”

She flashed a grin—a brilliant, dazzling smile that lit up her whole face. And just like that, my flustered heart nearly gave out all over again.

Author: Miku

I love soba noodles, cats, and dogs, but I’m allergic to all three. I moved safely to Tokyo, and I’m managing here somehow. (February 2019)

Illustrator: Umiko/U35

I was born on November 17 in Shimane Prefecture. My favorite things are cooked potatoes and summer skies. (February 2019)

Thank you all

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