——
If you asked the man himself about this, he would answer with a fearless grin and unwavering confidence, with the caveat: "Well, in the modern era, certainly."
"In the modern era" — this qualifier bore no trace of bitterness on Roswaal's face. Instead, what gleamed in his mismatched eyes was a longing tinged with solitude and deep affection.
This ephemeral yearning that never vanished from Roswaal's heart whenever he spoke of magic — only
With that understood, Roswaal's position as the preeminent mage of the age remained unshaken.
Having told
"————"
Roswaal's vision, entering the imperial capital's airspace from the southwest, revealed the sky directly above the Crystal Palace in the far north dyed crimson, with countless fireballs blooming like flowers. Roswaal was the one who had unleashed the flames, but they had been transformed into explosions by a pair of wyverns that had taken flight from the palace and their riders — or so it appeared.
It was "or so it appeared" because Roswaal's eyes could not fully track the opponent moving at high speed from several kilometers away.
This was not a problem with Roswaal's vision. Human eyes simply were not designed for that.
However, Medium in his arms possessed a divine blessing that allowed her to see, and the Magic Bullet Marksman on the other side had likewise transcended this limitation by some means, allowing them to lock eyes across the distance.
As proof of that — "——Hyah!"
With an adorable cry, Medium, cradled in his arms, swung her saber.
She was flying while completely dependent on someone else for support. There was no way her balance could have been good, yet Medium's saber still found the approaching magic bullets and sliced them apart with a sound like water splashing.
Feeling the severed bullets shoot past them from behind and return to mana, Roswaal could not suppress a shudder at the speed and precision of the attack.
——It was a killing technique perfected through incredible mastery.
The fired bullets appeared to be a form of Yang magic. Unlike the Girwald-type that emitted heat rays of light, this variant that launched projectiles of light was an uncodified, original creation.
While nothing could be said with certainty from a brief exchange, it likely shaped light into a form similar to the icicles
By doing so, no physical projectile remained in the wound, making it harder for the target to discern the attack's true nature. Moreover, by searing the area around the wound with light, it made injuries more severe.
"Excellent magic."
Roswaal praised the strike as truly worthy of being called a "magic bullet."
If Barroy had developed this independently, he must have had the talent to become a first-rate mage. Of course, the man would no longer desire such honor. As an imperial citizen, he had already received the highest possible commendation — that of being one of the Nine Divine Generals.
Moreover, it was unlikely that a dead man would desire such glory.
"In truth, even in life he was not the sort of person to cling to honor and advancement. I've heard as much from people close to him, and from the person who witnessed his final moments."
Information on the Magic Bullet Marksman, Barroy Temegriff, was unusually plentiful — many people who had known him in life were available. This gave Roswaal more opportunities to gather intelligence than he had expected.
However, what he could learn from the O'Connell siblings was mostly personal testimony about Barroy's character, and Serina Draukloits — unlike her usual self — was too choked with guilt to speak clearly. So Roswaal had been unable to obtain the tactical information he desired from them — but there was an unexpected source.
That source was — "To think that young Julius was the one who defeated that particular Divine General."
In his thoughts, carefully structured so that Medium — whose focus was intensifying — would not hear, Roswaal recalled the grim-faced Julius.
As Anastasia's First Knight, and owing to his steadfast loyalty, Julius had cooperated with them even here in the Volachia Empire. This "supreme knight" had also brought Roswaal remarkably useful intelligence about the formidable opponent he and Medium were facing.
——Originally, regardless of whether the battlefield was the imperial capital or a fortress city, the matchup against Barroy Temegriff was always destined to fall to Roswaal.
This was not because Roswaal had been old acquaintances with Serina Draukloits, nor because he had been entrusted with delivering the final blow to Barroy — whom she had looked after since childhood.
Roswaal had emotions, but he always excluded emotion-driven judgment from his calculations.
Naturally, Roswaal facing Barroy was a strategic decision.
It went without saying, but the Volachia Empire had been a long-standing nemesis to the Kingdom of Lugnica.
While all four great nations maintained uneasy relationships, it was an undeniable fact that they regarded each other as the most dangerous among their neighbors.
Therefore, while the Royal Selection was being held in the kingdom, the non-aggression treaty concluded with the empire was a historic achievement — yet it did nothing to warm the frigid relationship between the two nations.
Put simply, the Kingdom of Lugnica's vigilance against its hypothetical enemy, the Volachia Empire, had persisted for a long time, and countermeasures against the empire's main forces — the Nine Divine Generals and the wyvern corps on alert — were constantly being devised.
Within those countermeasure meetings, the plan had been set. ——The one to face the empire's wyvern corps would be the kingdom's magic corps, and at its apex, Roswaal would clash with the empire's greatest wyvern rider.
"That said, I never expected I'd end up facing the 'Vile Elder' or the 'Magic Bullet Marksman' within the empire itself."
When discussions about the empire were held, these two were identified as the greatest threats.
Of course, in terms of individual combat strength, there were the "Azure Lightning" and the "Spirit Eater" — two formidable assets. But the kingdom had the Sword Saint to match them.
However, when it came to war, what mattered most was the existence of leadership.
The quickest way to end a war was to cut down the leader. ——And in this regard, more feared than the "First" or "Second" were the Vile Elder and the Magic Bullet Marksman.
Therefore, Roswaal had already estimated Barroy's techniques and abilities from rumors of the Magic Bullet Marksman.
In the end, he had heard that Barroy, who had staged a rebellion, had lost his life without ever facing Roswaal directly, making that simulation pointless. But a strange turn of fate had made this encounter a reality.
And now, having confirmed the skill of the real Barroy Temegriff firsthand, Roswaal — the world's greatest mage — was certain.
"As expected, I cannot win alone."
Not a joke, not self-deprecation, not timidity — Roswaal acknowledged this as plain fact.
This was not about magic being inferior to martial combat. It was a difference in arenas.
First and foremost, mobility was different.
Roswaal could use flight magic and was one of the world's foremost individuals capable of solo flight, but his speed and maneuverability could not match that of a professional wyvern rider. If he engaged in a head-on aerial battle, he would be overwhelmed by speed and outmaneuvered by three-dimensional movement until he was shot down — that was the most likely outcome.
Second, the purpose and precision of their respective attack methods were different.
Barroy's "Magic Bullet" was a technique forged solely for the purpose of killing others, and it could be said to be perfected in both power and accuracy.
Roswaal, aiming to be a mage worthy of his master, had made mastery of all magic his goal. But the depths of magic still lay far beyond his reach, and while he could overwhelmingly surpass Barroy in versatility, he could state with certainty that he could not match an enemy who had specialized entirely in one thing — the killing of a target.
Third, the combat conditions were different.
This was a headache, but it was the greatest obstacle in this matchup.
Think about it: in a fight, if you could attack the opponent unilaterally from a distance, you could not possibly lose. That was Roswaal's natural fighting style, and fighting from the maximum distance one was capable of could be called a mage's fundamental winning strategy.
The problem was when the opponent outranged you at that maximum distance.
If that happened, you would inevitably have to allow the opponent to launch unilateral attacks of their own. To avoid this, if you were outranged, you had to close the distance and neutralize the range advantage before turning it into a contest of raw power.
But the combat conditions imposed on Roswaal did not allow for that premise.
"Frankly, having allies picked off one by one from afar is the worst thing imaginable. Somehow, pin the enemy down so they can't do that!"
When the members of the "Expedition from Extinction" were being divided for the assault on the imperial capital, this was the role Subaru had entrusted to Roswaal.
Indeed, it was a logical judgment. While Roswaal had no intention of claiming to be the strongest combatant over
Emilia was also quite capable, but in her case, the delicate nature of her attacks and the fact that she had no means of ascending into the sky — the enemy's primary battlefield — meant the task naturally fell to Roswaal.
As a result, Roswaal was forced into an opening where he had to attack from a range that was overwhelmingly advantageous to the enemy, drawing their attention to himself in order to prevent the others from being sniped.
"As I feared, even at this distance, the enemy's attacks arrive with perfect accuracy. I've managed to draw attention, but... I need to close the gap to my own effective range from here. A truly desperate endeavor."
How difficult this would be was sufficiently clear from the three disadvantages described above.
Against a powerful enemy, he had to fight at the opponent's preferred tactics and preferred range. On top of that, acknowledging the gap in their respective abilities, Roswaal was convinced that the opponent was superior.
Yet, neither sorrow nor despair dwelled in those mismatched eyes.
Because — "Yaah!"
The instant a bright flash flickered, the sound of splashing water and a violent impact jolted Roswaal and Medium.
This was the second shot landing — and proof that Medium had once again shot it down. Roswaal marveled at Medium's skill even as his smile deepened.
The reason for that smile was — "Medium, can you keep going?"
"Yeah! I can do it! Just like you said, Rozu... Barroy keeps aiming for my arms and shoulders!"
△▼△▼△▼△ "Tch—"
Through the enlarged vision of his left eye, Barroy watched his second shot get slashed down by the saber, and he gritted his teeth at the improvement in the familiar girl's technique and the vicious cunning of the opponent's strategy.
Through the Celestoscope — a lens created by the refraction of light — he could clearly see Medium with her eager expression, and the man carrying her through the sky, gradually but steadily closing in.
The aim was obvious. Closing distance against an enemy who excelled at long-range attacks was basic combat doctrine.
The fireball assault from above the clouds — had that really been a failed surprise attack followed by an immediate pivot?
Those broad, sweeping attacks — anyone who didn't notice them before they landed was a fool. That attack was designed to be shot down. Even knowing that, they had to shoot it down.
And so the opponent had successfully seized the initiative to open fire, beginning an ultra-long-range battle that was overwhelmingly in Barroy's favor — and at the sight of Medium, Barroy's fighting spirit wavered.
The opponent had forced them into a surprise attack, and yet had chosen to begin the fight at Barroy's advantageous range — knowing full well that Barroy's Magic Bullet could target its victims selectively.
"Medium—!"
The first and second Magic Bullets Barroy had fired were both blocked by Medium.
It had always been like that. When Medium wore a dejected expression, she was so clumsy she could lose to Flop in a contest of ineptitude. But when she was fired up, she became an untamable berserker.
Neither Flop nor
Still, he never expected she would be able to block his Magic Bullets.
"———"
"——. I understand,
To Barroy, who ground his teeth, his beloved wyvern spread its wings and cried out with a sharp whinny.
Through the technique of Wyvern Riding, Barroy and Carillon were bound soul to soul — Od to Od — connecting their very existence. This was the secret art of Wyvern Riding that allowed one to tame a wyvern, which was naturally savage by nature.
Their bond was such that Barroy's thoughts and emotional shifts transferred directly to Carillon. The same was true in reverse — Carillon's thoughts were perceived by Barroy.
He knew. The reason his Magic Bullets were being blocked was not solely due to Medium's skill.
It was because Barroy, upon seeing his sister-in-arms fighting so desperately, had lacked the heartlessness to shoot her down as a warrior must.
"Her limbs..."
If he could take out even one, Medium's withdrawal from the fight was assured.
The mage carrying her would judge it disadvantageous to fly with a severely wounded companion. If possible, he wanted to hit her arms rather than her legs — damage to her arms would be less of an impediment to her daily life than damage to her legs.
Injure Medium enough that she had to withdraw, shoot down the mage, and then ask
His worries would vanish. They would vanish.
"——Let's do it."
With the ashen face of a corpse, resolve blazed clearly in Barroy's golden eyes.
No longer was this the expression of a man who had hesitated to attack Medium moments before — this was the expression of the Magic Bullet Marksman who had found alignment between his nature and his purpose, and was resolved to make it a reality.
"————"
With fighting spirit burning in his golden gaze, all heat drained from Barroy's body.
Closing his right eye, he focused his consciousness on the Celestoscope in his left eye. Fixing the spear against his knee on Carillon's back, a sharply pointed bullet of light was formed at its tip.
Barroy was a mage of singular path, having polished this one art and nothing else.
This technique consumed minimal mana, executed the fewest possible steps for maximum effect — and suited his nature perfectly. It was the embodiment of his unwavering resolve to finish the job.
"————"
While Barroy concentrated thus, Carillon likewise heightened its focus.
When Barroy peered into the Celestoscope and minutely observed the target's movements, his peripheral awareness naturally diminished. Carillon took over this role, providing the surrounding vigilance in his stead.
With a wyvern's keen eyesight and instinctive wariness watching the surroundings, Carillon was an indispensable presence for Barroy, who had established this tactic.
"If you're gonna fight me, you'd naturally want to close the distance. But you actually think I'll let you do that, knowing full well?"
That the opponent could use flight magic was surprising, but the approach speed was nothing compared to a wyvern rider. If Barroy retreated at the same rate the opponent advanced, the distance would not close.
Of course, there was a limit to how far he could pull back, so maintaining distance involved not just retreating but also turning and varying altitude. But that was no problem.
The vast sky had no restrictions. That was why the Magic Bullet Marksman's combat style was so thoroughly established.
"——Hit."
With moistureless lips, he whispered the word, and at that signal, the spear's tip flared brilliantly.
The moment the Magic Bullet was fired, there was no recoil or sensation on Barroy's end. All there was was a brief flicker of light and, within a second, the result of the sniper shot.
Through the magnified vision of the Celestoscope, Medium blocked the third Magic Bullet with her saber as well.
She was clearly aware that Barroy was targeting her limbs — whether from her innate instinct or from advice whispered by the mage behind her, he could not tell.
Barroy praised her for it, and with a sigh — "——Hit, hit, hit, hit, hit."
He unleashed four shots in rapid succession — from the fourth through the eighth.
"————"
Barroy's Magic Bullet had no recoil. Therefore, firing in rapid succession posed no difficulty.
If there was any limitation at all, it was the speed at which he could create the light bullets for each shot — but Barroy had poured every ounce of his magical talent into perfecting this one attack.
Five shots per second, each fired with identical precision without a shred of deviation — that was why Barroy Temegriff was called the Magic Bullet Marksman, and the reason he had earned the rank of one of the great generals.
"Hit, hit, hit, hit, hit."
Medium swung both sabers furiously, desperately resisting the Magic Bullets.
That alone was commendable, but Barroy's reserves remained completely untapped. Barely ten seconds had passed — if this continued for another ten or twenty seconds, Medium would inevitably reach her limit.
Barroy would calmly close in at that precise moment with his Magic Bullet — "————"
For an instant, doubt pierced through Barroy's otherwise cool calculations.
Even as the creation of light bullets and the relentless barrage of Magic Bullets continued, Barroy's suspicion was triggered by this very situation.
The opponent had brought Medium along for the surprise attack, deliberately placing severe restrictions on Barroy's Magic Bullets.
Would an enemy who had come here intending to face Barroy really employ such a half-baked strategy — one that could be broken simply by Barroy doing what he always did?
Something was wrong. He had to find it strange. This was precisely the situation where his full ability should shine.
And then, just as Barroy had that thought — "———"
In Barroy's place, Carillon, who was watching the surroundings, let out a sharp cry.
Flying at high speed above the Crystal Palace while maintaining a constant distance from the enemy, the beloved wyvern's plea directed Barroy's awareness toward the source of its alarm.
It came from above — even higher than where Barroy and his forces were.
"——Tch, you bastard!"
Through gritted teeth, Barroy roared. In his field of vision, piercing through the thick clouds and plummeting downward was something even more directly threatening than the rain of fireballs that had targeted the Crystal Palace moments before.
——A massive block of ice, the size of a small hill, was hurtling through the sky toward the imperial capital.
△▼△▼△▼△ "Fighting Lord Barroy in an open area without cover would be fatal. He is the empire's foremost wyvern rider... an extraordinary practitioner with no blind spots in any direction."
Following Julius's grave advice, Roswaal had been thrust into an aerial battle that was the worst possible choice against the empire's greatest wyvern rider.
After all, the sky offered nothing to use as cover. Not just front and back or left and right — the enemy could secure lines of fire in all three dimensions, including vertically and diagonally. It was, in essence, the worst possible environment.
A warrior's standard practice was to create the most disadvantageous conditions for the opponent. Voluntarily matching the enemy's conditions, or worse, deliberately choosing a disadvantageous situation — only a madman would do that.
So had Roswaal, who had chosen to fight in the enemy's preferred arena, using their preferred tactics, at their preferred range — albeit due to unavoidable conditions — chosen to be a madman?
——Absolutely not.
Roswaal did not consider himself normal, but he was far from the sort of eccentric who would revel in unfavorable combat situations or find pleasure in disadvantageous conditions.
He acknowledged his own abnormality, but that abnormality did not manifest in battle.
Therefore, Roswaal would never have engaged in a hopeless contest.
"Hah, hah, haahhh..."
Inside Roswaal's arms, Medium panted heavily, steam rising from her body.
The intense heat transmitted through his palm was proof that her body was raising its performance in response to her fighting spirit. At the same time, it was evidence that she had been pushed beyond her limits repeatedly in barely ten seconds.
The terrifying rapid-fire capability of the Magic Bullets — even knowing they were aimed to avoid fatal wounds, Roswaal had to marvel at Medium for deflecting nearly fifty shots.
But she would not last another ten seconds. So Roswaal had moved the battle forward another step.
——Piercing through the clouds bearing down on the imperial capital, a massive chunk of ice plummeted from above the clouds to the ground.
An iceberg of tremendous size, mistaken for a small mountain. Roswaal had dropped it, of course. However, creating an ice mass of that size would drain even the world's greatest mage to the last drop of mana.
Therefore, he had Emilia — who was brimming with excess mana — create the ice.
"She made something like that and is still in perfect condition. Truly an extraordinary matter."
Emilia had produced what amounted to a miracle on the level of creating an iceberg, and yet she remained perfectly composed, following Subaru's instructions to engage a different part of the battlefield. It was reassuring, and at the same time, thinking about the possibility that they might one day face each other as enemies gave Roswaal a headache.
But at this moment, he was relying on that dependability, making the iceberg-drop his strategy.
That massive iceberg would have been questionable even if Roswaal had spent every drop of his own mana to create it. But merely maintaining and keeping it aloft — after Emilia had made it — was not nearly as taxing.
After the fireball assault, Roswaal had kept it in reserve, and now, at this precise moment, he launched it from its position at the mountain's edge.
"————"
A mass attack equivalent to a mountain falling from the sky — but its aim was not to crush Barroy in the air from above. If that were possible, it would be simple, but Barroy could easily evade the impact zone of an iceberg.
Therefore, the reason for dropping the iceberg was not to attack Barroy — it was to obstruct.
"If there's no cover, you just create some."
The instant he murmured this, Roswaal narrowed his eyes, and immediately cracks spread across the entire surface of the iceberg.
The ear-splitting sound that tore through the sky was exactly like a pane of glass embedded in the sky shattering all at once — and the subsequent spectacle might have appeared as the very sky itself collapsing.
The iceberg shattered, and fragments and chunks of ice rained down upon the city in disarray.
Even broken apart, these were mountain-sized fragments. Each piece was enormous — comparable to buildings or dragon carriages — and falling from the sky, they were equivalent to a mountain avalanche.
It was as if a box filled with stones and sand had been overturned above a flower garden — "This is the true power of a mage."
If you could attack unilaterally from your preferred range, you could never lose.
He had stated this before — it was a mage's fundamental and invincible strategy. And so Roswaal favored and executed this style of combat.
To attack unilaterally, the key was to eliminate the opponent's "options."
The preferred range was merely an easily understood metric for doing so. Eliminating the opponent's options and dragging them into a favorable situation — that was the fighting style of the world's greatest mage.
"There!"
Light lanced through the gaps between the cascading ice shards, and Medium slashed down the approaching Magic Bullet.
Medium had been instructed not to flinch no matter what happened, and Roswaal was grateful she had followed that directive. The Magic Bullet Marksman had surely been stunned, but the fact that he had immediately shifted to an attack was worthy of admiration.
However, his rate of fire and mobility had been significantly curtailed.
Most importantly — "If you are the person I have heard you are, then the Magic Bullet cannot target me directly. ——If I fall from this altitude, there is no way Medium can save me."
△▼△▼△▼△ A demonic enemy who made impossible combat situations a reality.
A mage who used Medium as a shield to shut down his tactics — Barroy recognized this with clear, unequivocal hostility.
In the Volachia Empire, mages were exceedingly rare.
This was partly due to the soil and the racial characteristics that made magical aptitude uncommon, but ultimately it was because magic did not align with the ideology of the Volachian people.
At the core of the Volachian people was respect for the strong — which could be rephrased as admiration for the skill and talent of great warriors. Taking up a weapon oneself and defeating an opponent through direct combat — that was the ideal warrior of the Volachia Empire. All other forms of fighting were looked down upon.
This prejudice and preconception ran deep. Though it had begun to be reevaluated during Vincent's reign, it would still take considerable time to disappear entirely.
Barroy's fighting style as the "Magic Bullet Marksman" and Orbalt's killing methods as the "Vile Elder" and leader of the shinobi — while they drew wariness from other nations, their reputations at home could not be called favorable.
But Barroy and Orbalt had not been fighting for reputation, so it did not matter.
That said, because of this pragmatic attitude, Barroy was unlike other empire citizens in that he did not particularly despise mages. ——He wanted to overturn that evaluation of him here and now.
"I don't take kindly to such tactics, mage sir!"
He might admire the skill of utilizing all things to create one's own battlefield, but having those fangs turned on him — on his own people, no less — naturally stoked his fury.
He wanted to pierce that head, shoot through that chest — "Carillon—!"
"———!"
Barroy slapped the wyvern's back, spurring it on, and the whinnying wyvern beat its wings and surged forward.
Barroy and Carillon danced through the dark sky, flying through the ice storm descending at an unbelievable scale, focusing on navigating the labyrinth of ice chunks that had appeared and breaking through.
There had been instances where Barroy had faced opponents who fled into dense forests or barricaded themselves in fortresses to avoid his Magic Bullets.
In those cases, Barroy would either use rapid fire to clear the trees and open a line of sight, or pinpoint the enemy's hiding spot and hit the same location repeatedly, piercing through walls to take them down.
But never before had anyone attempted to breach his position using such an absurd method.
And therefore, never before had anyone turned his own absurdity against him.
"So, if I can get past this, I'll be the one who wins?"
Dodge the fragments of the shattered iceberg — each one capable of taking a life if it so much as grazed him — and visualize Medium and the mage pressing their attack.
Those two were the only ones in the sky above the imperial capital. In other words, the hand they could play against Barroy in an aerial battle was limited to these two.
It seemed Serina had opted not to deploy her prized wyvern corps against Barroy.
"As expected of a Count — she understands."
Even in aerial combat using wyverns, a clear hierarchy existed.
For example, a lone wyvern without a rider could never stand against a wyvern with a skilled rider. A superior wyvern rider could rout a flock of a hundred wyverns with just a single pair.
And when two wyvern riders clashed, the superior one would always win. Numbers barely mattered — the side with the better wyvern rider prevailed.
If there was no wyvern rider more skilled than Barroy, no amount of wyverns sent against him would produce anything but a mountain of corpses — precious riders and their mounts.
That was how rare and exceptional a superior wyvern rider truly was.
Therefore, Barroy did not hate Serina. Her allowing Miles to carry out a covert mission in the Kingdom of Lugnica had been necessary. ——It had been unavoidable.
"Even so, I —"
The second half of his muttered words, spoken through gritted teeth, was inaudible even to Barroy himself.
Below them, the shattered iceberg fragments were crashing into the imperial capital one after another, destroying and reshaping its streets with tremendous explosions of dust and debris.
The devastation wrought upon the pitiful capital — what could only be called a magical catastrophe brought about by magic — continued.
These had been familiar streets he once sought to protect. The sight of them being destroyed was not without impact on him, but Barroy's awareness was focused more on his enemy than on the crumbling city.
"————"
Ice shards scattered like powder, creating a fantastical scene of refracted light. Through the haze, the figures of Medium and her companion — who should have been far away — became more clearly visible.
But there was still distance between them. Dropping an iceberg from above the clouds and causing this much destruction to the capital's streets had bought only a marginal amount of distance.
"Hit, hit, hit."
As if pushing back the distance they had gained, the time until Barroy's Magic Bullets reached their target shrank.
That meant Medium had to react a fraction of a second sooner. How many more shots could the already exhausted Medium block?
Even if Barroy was forced to limit his firing angle and line of fire, the advantage still lay with him.
In other words, the next move was coming.
"——? Another fireball from before... no."
Seeing an anomaly in the sky above, Barroy thrust his spear through the ice shards and deflected a light bullet to clear his sight line. He looked up and frowned.
Through the enormous hole the iceberg had torn in the thick clouds, fireballs were falling through, along with several more massive ice chunks — not as large as the previous iceberg, but still enormous.
Seeing this sight, Barroy initially thought more obstacles were being added to the sky — then he realized the truth.
They were falling not toward Barroy and his position, but on a trajectory to strike the Crystal Palace directly.
"What kind of insane stunt are you pulling, you bastard—!!"
Barroy shouted as he witnessed the fire and ice falling not toward him but toward the palace. He recognized it for what it truly was — an attack aimed at him nonetheless.
They would not directly harm Barroy. In exchange, they would mercilessly crush Madeline's body remaining inside the castle, along with everyone else within.
He could not allow it. ——He could not let Sphinx die.
"Ooooooh—!!"
Carillon spread its wings in a sharp turn, braking hard to avoid the falling ice. On its back, Barroy straightened his body as if bounced off, leveled his spear toward the sky above the Crystal Palace, and fired a Magic Bullet.
At the rate of five per second, he could not keep up — and so, in this instant, Barroy's Magic Bullets transcended the limits he had never surpassed in life, blanketing the sky like a curtain of fire.
The barrage of frenzied light bullets shot down every fireball and ice chunk, protecting the Crystal Palace from the devastation that should have brought it down.
But in this very instant, with his back turned, it was inevitable that the enemy would target him — "——Hit."
Therefore, while Barroy aimed his spear tip at the falling objects heading for the Crystal Palace, he used the spear's pommel to lock onto the approaching enemy, and responded with simultaneous forward and rear shots from his Magic Bullets.
"————"
The Magic Bullet fired behind him was a single shot — but it was enough.
The fire magic that charged straight at Barroy, who had apparently exposed his back — was pierced head-on by the Magic Bullet, and it too burst apart in midair.
The light bullet that had drilled through the opponent's magic continued straight ahead, striking the targets who thought they had caught him off guard, and Medium met it with her saber.
"Medium, I was a Divine General, you know."
In terms of combat skill, there was no way he would fall behind his sister-in-arms — fired up or not.
The Magic Bullet he had fired behind him to catch them off guard was a size larger than any he had fired before, and correspondingly more powerful.
"Uagh!"
With the sound of splashing water, both sabers were ripped from Medium's hands.
She had instinctively sensed the difference and met it with both blades — a remarkable move. Thanks to that, instead of his intended target of blowing away her left forearm, both her arms remained intact.
However, without a means of defense, the result was the same. The next shot would take her arms and end it.
"Hit."
With resolve, the spear tip flashed. The processing of the fire and ice that had nearly crushed the Crystal Palace was complete.
Now, with one surge upward on Carillon, he would reestablish the distance, and begin generating Magic Bullets to force Medium's withdrawal — "W—"
——In that instant, a rainbow radiance flooded Barroy's entire field of vision, blanketing the sky.
△▼△▼△▼△ ——In the strategy to defeat Barroy Temegriff, Julius's advice had been invaluable.
This was advice from someone who had already defeated him once.
This kind of useful information was something even Subaru could scarcely prepare. After all, Subaru was not a warrior, and his counsel on combat strategy tended to be vague.
Regardless — "I fought Lord Barroy and defeated him. Of course, it was a victory I could not have achieved without
"You looked at the 'Book of the Dead,' you said. What a remarkable coincidence. Young Julius, if possible, could you tell me everything you saw — "
"——Marquis Mathers, what I will share is Lord Barroy's fighting style and how I myself fought him. I must ask you to understand that I will never, for the rest of my life, divulge what I saw without his permission — what Lord Barroy carried within him."
Julius had made this declaration with a serious expression. There were ways Roswaal could have pushed back, accusing him of aiding the enemy and interrogating him exhaustively about the information he had obtained from the Book of the Dead. But Roswaal chose not to, and instead listened only to what Julius had decided to share.
Roswaal himself found this choice surprising.
The original Roswaal would have preferred to learn everything possible about the opponent through any available means, formulate a strategy, and enter battle fully prepared.
And yet, why had he sided with Julius's feelings and respected his decision?
The reason for this change of heart — Roswaal did not have a clear answer. But that was fine.
Even without knowing everything about Barroy Temegriff, Julius had provided a valuable answer. For Roswaal, that was enough.
"Then the fact that you were the one to take down Barroy means this. ——Perhaps you don't even know why you died, do you, Barroy Temegriff?"
Due to the Authority of Gluttony, Julius had his "name" eaten.
As a result, everyone around Julius — with the exception of Subaru — had forgotten him. Roswaal was no exception, and likely even the dead were no exception.
Even Barroy himself, who had been killed by Julius's hand, did not know what had caused his death.
In other words — "——I can kill you the same way you died before."
It was a remarkable coincidence — a miraculous alignment of circumstances.
Had Julius not killed Barroy, or had Julius not had his "name" eaten, this particular avenue to victory would never have emerged.
The suffering of the two individuals involved — Julius and Barroy — was presumptuous even to imagine. But Roswaal, an outsider, would quietly offer his gratitude for this convergence of fate in his heart alone.
——The rainbow barrier deployed ahead blocked the path of Barroy and his wyvern as they attempted to ascend.
An aurora barrier — Roswaal had heard it was the decisive magic that allowed Julius to defeat Barroy.
This was an original magic Julius had developed in conjunction with the spirits he had brought along. Even for Roswaal to replicate it would require an abnormal expenditure of energy.
Roswaal could cast multiple spells simultaneously, but six at once was beyond the pale.
He could hear his own body's gates screaming in protest, but even so, Roswaal reproduced Julius's victory in order to raise his chances of winning.
This was not done as mockery or harassment — it was a strategic choice.
Of course, if the sole purpose was to block Barroy's escape route, Roswaal could have achieved the same with fire or wind, which he excelled in. But those familiar spells would be instantly recognized as dangerous.
What was needed was a novel spell that could disorient Barroy, even for an instant.
That was why Roswaal had judged that this rainbow aurora was likely part of what the Authority of Gluttony had made Julius's allies forget, and — accepting the burden — deliberately brought it out for the final stage.
"——Ghk."
Medium clenched her teeth. Both her sabers had been torn away, but her fighting spirit remained unbroken as she clenched her fists tight.
Perhaps she could have blocked one or two Magic Bullets by sacrificing both arms, but Roswaal had never intended to demand that kind of sacrifice.
In terms of eliminating the opponent's options, Medium had already more than fulfilled her role.
On the way to the imperial capital, Medium had expressed her gratitude to Subaru, and Subaru had expressed his to Medium — and Roswaal was in complete agreement.
"What are you saying, Medium? If anyone should be saying thanks, it's me. If I hadn't met you and Flop back there... I shudder to think about it."
Subaru's bashful acting had made Roswaal want to applaud.
Indeed, without the O'Connell siblings' cooperation, this strategy could not have been carried out.
"But — "
Blocked by the rainbow, Barroy would fall.
That was to be the decisive end for the empire's greatest wyvern rider, and Roswaal narrowed his eyes — "————"
——In that instant, he was struck by an impact from diagonally behind, and his consciousness was violently shaken.
△▼△▼△▼△ The instant the rainbow light spread before him, a chill ran through Barroy's entire body.
Despite being a corpse, the survival instinct — or what could be called the warrior's intuition for battle — continued to function. The irony was not lost on him.
Following that dead instinct's plea, Barroy fired at the aurora barrier what was literally a "hidden bullet" he had kept in reserve, using it as the key to his breakthrough.
——Just as Roswaal had guessed, Barroy did not remember his cause of death.
Why had he lost his life? He could recall the turmoil that had led to it, and the motivations and reasons for joining — but the actual reason for his death remained hazy.
If anything, he would have preferred to forget the reason for his death rather than everything else.
But if he forgot that, he would no longer be himself. He was sure of that much.
In any case, Barroy could not recall the moment of his death.
However, listening to the accounts of other corpses, aside from those who died without understanding what was happening, there was not a single one who had forgotten the circumstances leading to their death.
That was precisely why Barroy had pondered this — his unanswerable question of why he had died.
And he had contemplated, as best he could, the manner in which he might die.
Being identified as a conspirator and beheaded by Cecilus, or being purged by fellow generals like Grooby or Moguro — these scenarios had all occurred to him.
But given the reason for the rebellion, he had considered the possibility that it involved people from the Kingdom of Lugnica, and had turned over in his mind what kind of battle that might have been.
——Being cut off from escape while in flight and losing that way had been one of the later possibilities he had considered.
Barroy had arrived at this idea after the chain-carriage battle, and the fight where he had recovered
At that time, Barroy had fired a Magic Bullet as a feint, and someone inside the chain-carriage had blocked it with a rainbow barrier. ——It was after seeing that rainbow.
He had no certainty. But he had sensed it was something troublesome.
Therefore, he had resolved that no matter what situation he was cornered into, he would keep one Magic Bullet in reserve, ready to be drawn in an instant.
And that was what served him now in breaking through the rainbow barrier.
"———!"
Carillon roared and burst through the rainbow, sustaining injuries across its body but breaking free of the encirclement.
The beloved wyvern, now a corpse wyvern, took full advantage of its nature — regenerating its ghastly wounds even as it flew toward survival. Barroy thanked it, leveled his spear — already loaded with a Magic Bullet — at an angle, and — "Hit."
The fired bullet flew straight in a direction completely off-target from the enemy. However, along its flight path lay the remnants of falling ice chunks, and the light bullet skated diagonally across the cross-section of one.
Using that momentum, the light bullet ricocheted through the surrounding debris — bouncing, bouncing, bouncing — and plunged into the back of the enemy who had launched the rainbow.
Born, and dying — it was the first time a light bullet had successfully ricocheted.
Having literally leapt over what could be called a death line, Barroy's magical art had evolved once more.
——Roswaal's misfortune had been choosing to use a spell Barroy was seeing for the first time in hopes of catching him off guard — only for the rainbow, which was actually the second time Barroy had encountered it, to trigger his instinctive response.
"Rozu—!!"
The scream called out for the mage who had been hit by a ricochet from an unexpected angle and whose flight had been disrupted.
It was the anguished cry of Medium, trapped in the mage's arms, powerless to act because she was attacked from a position she could not protect.
If Barroy targeted the mage directly and shot them down, the fall from such a great height would be fatal for Medium as well.
This had the effect of forcing Barroy to limit his targets to Medium — but the iceberg drop and the attack on the Crystal Palace had, ironically, become the enemy's undoing.
"At this distance, I can pick her up before she hits the ground."
The vast distance of several kilometers between the southwest and far north of the imperial capital had closed during the battle. It was now close enough that, before Barroy could seize Medium, who was swaying in midair, before she hit the ground — Barroy slapped Carillon's neck and, slipping through the ice chunks, turned his wyvern's wings toward Medium to retrieve her.
Bracing himself for however harshly Medium might curse him — "Rozu?"
The voice he heard was a confused one, completely different from the scream of moments ago.
If anything, it was a distinctly vacant tone that was pure Medium — but the absurdity of hearing it in the middle of this battle, and what followed next, seized Barroy's attention.
"Wh—"
With black eyes and golden pupils — a corpse that still held life — Barroy opened his eyes wide in speechlessness.
In Barroy's vision, Medium had left the mage's arms and was falling toward the ground — no, not falling. She had been thrown.
Medium's body was hurled toward the ground with tremendous force.
She was falling faster than free fall. He had to catch her immediately, or it would be too late.
The instant that thought crossed his mind, Barroy understood the demonic cunning of the plan.
"————"
A split second before Barroy chose to dive beneath Medium, his gaze and the mage's crossed.
Now at a distance where he could finally see the man's face clearly — even without the Celestoscope — what an infuriating expression the man wore.
Shot in the back, blood spilling from his mouth, the man was smiling.
Barroy would drive a Magic Bullet into that smile, then immediately fly to Medium. He would not let things play out as the opponent intended — "———!"
In that instant, Carillon's whinny directed Barroy's attention back to Medium.
Medium, thrown and falling toward the ground. Her falling speed was fast, but Barroy and Carillon could likely catch up. ——No. They could likely have.
If only the remnants of shattered ice were not waiting below like a bed of swords.
"————"
Barroy had a vision of Medium's entire body being shredded by blades of ice.
To the opponent, Medium was supposed to be an ally. That fundamental fact — rationality screamed — meant nothing as insurance in front of this enemy.
The opponent was a mage. A mage who used all things, all of creation, as his tools — "————"
The thought lasted an instant; the result appeared immediately.
A single Magic Bullet sat at Barroy's spear tip. The chance to choose a target would come only once. Would he aim this Magic Bullet at the mage, or at the mountain of ice?
——Barroy despised the death of an ally above all else.
"——That's how it is, Big Brother Miles."
"———!"
A whisper of a call, overlaid with what sounded like the wyvern's whinny of assent.
In that instant, the fired Magic Bullet flew straight and obliterated every shard of ice in the mountain that had been about to shred the falling Medium.
And then — "——Your downfall was that you hesitated between everything else and the one thing that truly mattered."
Simultaneously with the cold voice of a man who had committed fully to ruthlessness, the opponent's Magic Bullet pierced Barroy's chest and his beloved wyvern's wing, bringing the aerial battle to its conclusion.