The Divine Dragon
To put it bluntly, it had gone senile from being left alone for far too long.
"But that's no good—you can't just act like a doddering old person! Hey, Volcanica!"
'—You who have reached the tower's summit, the supplicant of omnipotence who treads upon each floor' "Oh, come on! This is hopeless!"
The "trial" of having the dead resurrected in the state they'd been in at the time, like Reid, had also been a daunting challenge, but looking back now, that one seemed positively charming by comparison.
It was almost laughable—finding even Reid, that brute, endearing—but still.
"Reid at least could be reasoned with, and he told me what I needed to do…"
Volcanica was nothing like that.
For Emilia, who had to clear the first floor's "trial," having the one issuing the test go senile was about the worst possible scenario.
She needed to rush back to Subaru and the others with good news as quickly as possible.
"Ugh… what do I do, what do I do, what should I do… There's no way it's something as simple as beating up Volcanica the way I did Reid…"
Even if that were the case, it would presumably be a grueling trial. But the difference between the third and second floor's tests put a damper on that line of thinking.
The third floor Teigeta's trial had required her to solve a problem using her head.
Fortunately, Subaru's knowledge from beyond the Great Waterfall had allowed her to solve it, but without that, it would have been far more difficult.
And the second floor Electra's trial, as everyone knew, had
Even there, Emilia had managed to scrape by—she'd managed to bonk Reid on the head, after all—and there was some luck involved in succeeding on her first attempt.
Either way, there was no denying that both the third and second floor had been razor-thin victories.
So just tackling this one normally would be hard enough—let alone having the question itself withheld.
"I can't even get the problem from him…"
'—I am Volcanica. By the ancient covenant, I question the resolve of those who reach the summit' "Oh! I already know! I want to hear what comes after that!"
She tried asking a few times, hoping he might continue beyond the refrain, but the time to experiment was a luxury she couldn't afford.
Emilia held back the urge to stamp her feet in frustration and cast her gaze around the space.
The third floor's "trial" had taken place in a white room, with a black stone tablet—the monolith, as Subaru and Julius had cheerfully called it—that presented the problem.
Perhaps something similar was hidden somewhere on this first floor as well.
Since Volcanica was useless as a source of information, her best bet was to find the problem on her own.
"I have to do everything I can right now!"
Keeping a constant eye on Volcanica's movements, Emilia set off to investigate the first floor.
The first floor was the uppermost level of the
Compared to the second floor, it felt considerably wider, though Volcanica's colossal form distorted any real sense of the space's true dimensions.
"Can't… see below?"
Emilia grabbed onto one of the pillars ringed around the first floor's perimeter and peered down over the edge.
Below—inside the tower, on the ground—Subaru,
Flying into the clouds might allow her to reunite with her companions, but— "I feel like I'd get in trouble for climbing that way from the outside… Besides, even if I ran my hardest, I couldn't possibly make it up above the clouds this quickly."
Her athletic ability was nothing to scoff at, but even Emilia knew how impossibly high the clouds and sky were.
When she was little, she couldn't reach them no matter how far she stretched, and even after she'd grown taller, the answer was the same. Reinhard might be able to leap up to the clouds, perhaps, but that was beyond Emilia.
So some mysterious force must have carried her to the tower's summit.
"Then the 'trial' has to be somewhere in this place—it just has to!"
Buoyed by her own reasoning, Emilia inspected all six pillars, tapping them and trying to climb them. But she found no signs, no text—nothing resembling what she was looking for.
If there was any possibility left— "The big pillar in the center—the one Volcanica is clinging to."
If there was nothing on the surrounding pillars, then the central pillar was the most likely candidate.
Unlike the other six, this pillar extended upward beyond the first floor itself. Perhaps above the first floor lay a zeroth floor, or something like it.
That would be where something could be found to change this place where nothing was happening.
However— '—You who have reached the tower's summit, the supplicant of omnipotence who treads upon each floor' To examine the pillar, she'd have to get past Volcanica, who kept repeating the same words.
"…………"
Emilia had steeled herself to face the first floor's "trial," but challenging Volcanica was an entirely different matter.
Maintaining that tension, Emilia made her way toward the central pillar—toward Volcanica.
"Volcanica, what do I need to do for the 'trial'?"
'—I am Volcanica. By the ancient covenant, I question the resolve of those who reach the summit' Volcanica's answer was unchanged.
Rather than disappointment or despair, Emilia actually felt a measure of relief. If Volcanica's reaction hadn't changed, then surely it was as indifferent to her as it had been when she'd touched its front paw.
Trusting in that, Emilia circled to the opposite side of Volcanica and moved to examine the thick pillar when— "—Ah."
The instant she reached for the pillar, Emilia heard the sound of wind.
Before she could confirm what it was, her instincts conjured an ice wall above her head. In the next instant, an impact hammered through the ice wall into Emilia, and her slender body was sent flying.
"Gah—!"
The impact pierced from her back through to her chest. Emilia rolled violently across the first floor's surface, coughing. She planted her hands on the ground, using her momentum to arrest her tumbling body before she was flung further away.
What had just happened? Slowly raising her head, Emilia realized— —the tail of the Divine Dragon, propped against the pillar, was being lowered back to the floor.
"…I was hit by his tail?"
Put into words, it was a remarkably simple strike.
Dragons expressing themselves with their tails was common enough—even between Subaru and
But Volcanica's tail strike was on an entirely different scale from that kind of affectionate exchange between one person and one beast.
Her split-second defense had reduced it to something manageable, but had Emilia been even a fraction slower, her neck could have been broken, or her head blown clean off—that was the kind of blow it was.
And for Volcanica, it was barely more than swatting at an insect with its consciousness朦胧.
It was the treatment of a small bug being tossed about under the feet of a colossal creature.
"…………"
Understanding this fact, Emilia felt cold sweat trace a line down the back of her neck and spine.
But at the same time, that realization surfaced a new possibility.
"Something's there on that pillar after all, isn't it?"
'—You who have reached the tower's summit, the supplicant of omnipotence who treads upon each floor' "You're here for the 'trial'—that's the one thing you haven't forgotten, even after forgetting everything else. That's why you keep repeating the same words over and over."
Volcanica may have seemed to have forgotten what it was supposed to do.
But the fact that the Divine Dragon remained here like this—that its will to honor the promise made before its spirit met its "death" was so unwavering—was proof of how powerful that resolve still was.
The Sage, the Sword Saint, and the Divine Dragon, each testing the wisdom, strength, and resolve of those who reached them.
If that was the case— "I can't do this halfheartedly. I'm going all in too."
Declaring that she would use her full strength, with the premise that the other party would try to stop her, Emilia made her decision.
The air around her instantly screamed, and the world began to freeze over in a slow, creeping wave. As if pledging their allegiance to Emilia as their queen, ice warriors emerged one after another—a further evolution of Ice Brand Arts, representing Emilia's new potential.
It was something she'd never had the chance to try inside the cramped Watchtower, but with this much space and an opponent like this, there was no reason to hold back.
Subaru had never been told about it, so it hadn't been given a name.
Therefore, Emilia would name it herself.
"Ice Soldiers and Ice Brand Arts!"
Seven ice warriors materialized—humanoid figures, each bearing their own weapon, noble companions ready to march with Emilia into the jaws of death.
"Here I come, Sleepyhead! If you're going to wake up, wake up early!"
With that, Emilia advanced toward Volcanica alongside her ice soldiers, her body bristling with ice armaments.
Volcanica watched her approach, its gaze unreadable, and opened its mouth.
'—You who have reached the tower's summit, the supplicant of omnipotence who treads upon each floor' Its consciousness remained buried in the vast, distant expanse of its own unfocused mind.
△▼△▼△▼△ —At that same moment, Emilia was not the only one challenging an enemy who far exceeded her own strength.
One floor below the senile Divine Dragon that Emilia was fighting—the clash of swords raging on the second floor, Electra, was growing ever more fierce.
The fact that it was entirely one-sided, however, remained an unshakable truth.
"Come on, come on, come on, come on! What's the matter, what's the matter, what's the matter?! I'm down to one hand with a single chopstick, and you still can't reach me?! If that's the case, what the hell would you call this if not a game, I ask you, I ask you, I ask you!"
"Gu—!"
Bellowing his boisterous insults, the man with the swinging red locks delivered a devastating kick.
The knight caught it on the hilt of his sword, and the elegant profile of the knight was launched backward. The impact couldn't be absorbed—only scattered. And before it had fully dissipated, the next blow was already coming.
Again and again, this cycle repeated on the second floor's battlefield.
And for what must have been the umpteenth time, the knight was sent flying by a swordsman's strike and staggered back, prompting the swordsman to spit out: "Jeez."
"Change my mood and I change my sword. I was counting on you to show me that explosion of yours! But when the hell is it gonna happen, huh? Or maybe…"
So saying, the red-haired swordsman—Reid—tilted his head and twisted his lips.
In a grandly contemptuous posture, as if looking down on his opponent, the peerless swordsman glared at the knight facing him.
"Are you gonna lose because you're too hung up on proper form? That satisfy you, does it?"
"—My, you certainly do talk however you please."
At Reid's words, the knight who'd been talked down to this whole time allowed his lips to soften.
The knight accepted the kick with solemn composure, checking the numbing sensation in his sword, and stood tall under the full brunt of Reid's piercing gaze.
No longer the nameless knight—Julius Euclius, who had chosen to defy fate.
"You say those things to me time and again. That my fights are dull, my swordsmanship too well-mannered, that there's not enough play in it… I confess, these are words I'm familiar with."
"Yeah, well, duh. Even if you're not on my level, anyone with eyes would feel the same way. All your sword's got is desperation and nothing else."
"…Desperation, is it."
Reid's outburst hadn't come from any lofty conviction.
He was likely just saying whatever came to mind. But the reason it hit the mark was that, even with one eye deliberately covered, those blue eyes of his could see right through everything.
Perhaps he could see through Julius's thin, idealistic veneer layered over his true nature.
"…………"
Glancing behind him, there was a woman watching Julius and Reid's battle.
The most precious being in the world to Julius—though her appearance was that of another woman entirely, her contents swapped with someone else.
Despite being unavoidable, it had been roughly two months since the events at the water gate city. What an absurdly hollow master-servant relationship they had maintained all this time.
"Come to think of it, both you and I should have opened our hearts and talked more honestly."
"Julius…?"
"If we had, I think we could have become good friends. After all, we both cherished the same woman, and we both looked up to her."
Pouring out his true feelings, Julius once again challenged the Sword Saint.
Reid held a single, short, thin chopstick in his right hand and met the advancing Julius head-on.
Deflecting, thrusting, swinging up, bringing it down—Julius unleashed a barrage of strikes.
He wove in feints using the sword's hilt and footwork, but Reid swatted them all aside with an air that didn't even qualify as trying.
"Again with this? How many times do I gotta tell you this ain't gonna work—"
"Even if you call it boring—this is my sword!"
"Whoa!"
Reid smothered a yawn with a roar, matching Julius's sword strike with a kick of his own.
The kick shattered Julius's stance, and Reid's chopstick thrust drove in through the opening—but in that instant, Julius flipped his mantle and used it to shield himself, ducking behind it.
"Hoh."
Reid smirked at the maneuver and swung to cleave Julius in half, mantle and all.
But by the time the chopstick's force had blown the mantle away, Julius had already launched himself horizontally backward, clear of the chopstick's killing range.
"Now that's more like it!"
"No—it isn't!"
"Huh?!"
Reid praised Julius for throwing away his principles and fighting dirty, using the white cloak as a distraction. But Julius immediately rejected that praise and dashed toward where his mantle had been blown.
He picked up the mantle, shredded by the chopstick strike, and wrapped it around his body once more.
Fastening the clasp firmly—white uniform beneath, white mantle draped over—he embodied the ideal of a knight.
He had renounced being nameless, but he would never renounce being a knight.
Seeing Julius's attitude make that declaration, Reid clicked his tongue in irritation once more.
"I was hoping—when that gorgeous babe from before showed up, and when the babe behind you appeared—that you'd change. That you'd fight to win without caring how you looked. I wanted to see that version of you. Don't you even know yourself?"
"…………"
"You play the part of a knight all proper and dignified, but that's not what's inside you. Inside, you're no different from me—a club swinger. You're so stiff it's painful to watch."
Reid jabbed his chopstick toward Julius and spat out the words with a sour expression.
Hearing Reid's declaration, Julius closed his eyes. And after a moment of silence, he murmured a single word: "So that's it."
"Ah? What?"
"I finally understand why you've been so relentless toward me."
Irritated as he was, Reid never stopped talking to Julius.
His methods were crude, and he surely had no such intention himself, but it was like a mentor trying to teach and guide his student through sheer force.
Now at last, Julius understood the reason Reid had dragged him through all of this.
"—You were showing me the same thing in yourself, weren't you?"
Reid had mocked Julius's dull fighting style and overly proper swordsmanship again and again—because he believed a lion was hidden beneath the shell Julius wore.
Julius himself would have said that calling it a lion was generous overestimation— "I don't care about the details, blue-boy. I do what I want, how I want. My gut's telling me this—you'd be a lot more interesting if you peeled back a layer."
"…………"
"That's why I'm trying to peel it off. You know that too, don't you? Like this, you won't reach me, and you won't look cool in front of the babe behind you either."
Reid jerked his chin toward
Truly, Reid's eyes were extraordinary—he could see everything.
He could see that Julius Euclius was a man who simply wanted to save face.
"And that is precisely why I will not bend who I am."
"Hah?"
"Your words are probably correct. There's much that resonates. …In a world where no one remembered me, there was no one to tell me this, but I was never the heir of the Euclius house."
He spoke so that both the grimacing Reid and the resolute Echidna could hear.
The history of Julius Euclius that only
"My father, a noble, eloped with a commoner mother, and I was born of their union. So my origins are common. After my parents passed away and I was taken in by my uncle—my current father—I had been entirely cut off from noble upbringing… That is why the way I am is something I constructed."
"And a clumsy facade it is."
"Perhaps. My true self is probably that rough child who didn't know ideals, who wore common clothes instead of formal ones, ran through the fields laughing with friends."
A child who didn't know etiquette, had no ideals to aspire to, and struggled just to live each day.
That version of Julius—the one he was supposed to have been—had been his promised future.
But that future, along with his real parents, had been swept away by a flash flood.
That was why— "That is why I adopted the guise of a knight. I clung to appearances and sealed away my true self."
"You…"
"I was ignorant of everything, but I encountered an ideal. —I yearned to be a knight. I yearned for the image of a dignified, noble knight. And so I chose to pursue that yearning."
The clasp of his mantle snapped into place with a click, and a fierce light filled Julius's amber eyes.
The sullen Reid, his expression shifting from irritation to bewilderment—surprised that his own words were being deflected without a chance to bite back.
The man who embodied arrogance and contempt had been captivated by Julius's words.
So Julius raised his voice and continued.
"I am a clumsy man. I approach everything from the outside in. I believed that if I carried a grand sword, dressed in fine clothes, and spoke with polished words, I would become worthy—and so I did. That is why I will see this through. I will maintain my appearances. I will hold onto my vanity."
He knew there were people who despised the word "vanity."
If he thought about it, Natsuki Subaru would be at the top of that list.
But Julius believed— "I straighten my spine, compose my bearing, wear the image of who I wish to be, and use that as a staff to support my will. That is the facade I have chosen to wear for eternity."
"…………"
"There are those who mock vanity. But I believe there are just as many who find it dazzling. —Just as I continue to be captivated by the way of the knight."
He couldn't remember who had first planted in him the desire to become a knight.
But Julius had become one.
He had been called the "Finest" not solely because of his honed swordsmanship, his refined spirit arts, or the formidable skill backing them.
It was because the way Julius Euclius lived could be seen as the way a knight should be.
Because his vanity—his desire to appear worthy—was so dazzling that it embodied what it meant to be the "most" "excellent" "knight."
Having declared this, Julius relaxed his lips and turned to Echidna.
To her—who borrowed the appearance of his beloved master and, from the depths of her heart, regretted forgetting him—Julius shook his head gently.
He wanted to tell her that there was no need to carry that guilt.
"There was never any need to fear, grieve, or lament being forgotten. For I exist within the code of chivalry that everyone knows and everyone yearns for."
And the same was true for "them," the ones who had been by his side all along.
"I'm sorry for all this time, my buds. I clung to a bond that had been severed, refused to let you go, and kept you worried. Now, I release you from that yoke."
Drawn by Julius's whisper, what materialized were soft lights glowing with vivid colors—beautiful spirits representing six attributes, the quasi-spirits of Julius Euclius.
They had been with him since before he became a knight—impossible to part from.
They too had forgotten Julius after the Authority of Gluttony stole his "name."
But the indissoluble contract between spirit and contractor, together with the power of Julius's innate Spirit Affinity, had kept them lingering nearby—neither leaving nor staying.
Julius had believed that once his "name" was restored, their bond would be restored too, and so he had refused to let them go.
How foolish that had been.
Everything else had changed, and so he hadn't wanted to change what remained.
But— "My dear buds who were with me before. I was indulgent in your affection, clinging sentimentally and unable to let go of the warmth you gave me. I kept hoping we could return to those days without anything changing. —I relinquish that version of me—weak, pathetic, and unsightly."
As if uncertain, the six quasi-spirits swirled and wavered around Julius.
He gently extended his arm toward them—like a perch offered to a bird. The quasi-spirits saw this and drifted slowly toward it.
Julius smiled at the faint lights resting upon his arm.
"There was a part of me afraid to change. But some things cannot be gained without the resolve to lose. The blooming of these buds into flowers—I want to see with my own eyes what petals they will unfold."
'—You who have reached the tower's summit, the supplicant of omnipotence who treads upon each floor' They did not answer.
But it seemed they had sensed what was about to happen.
So Julius did what he must— "My dear buds! I will set you free. I'm sorry for clinging so long to a bond that had already been severed."
The moment those words left his lips, the quasi-spirits wrapped around Julius's arm scattered as though thrown off.
It appeared almost violent—a searing sensation like a bolt of lightning, piercing through only Julius and the quasi-spirits themselves.
A bond that had truly existed, a contract tying soul to soul, was being cut.
It was a pain and grief that only a spirit arts user could understand—the anguish of losing a being whose soul had been truly bound to one's own.
Julius didn't know it, but Emilia had once shed tears and collapsed from that very same pain.
Julius now experienced, by his own hand, the severance from all six spirits at once, and a wound was carved into his soul.
A sensation like being twisted clawed at his chest, and Julius tasted the剥离 of soul.
This was a fundamentally different pain from when the buds had forgotten him through the Authority of Gluttony.
Not only Julius—the quasi-spirits must have felt the same pain and regret.
Perhaps they had cursed the wound on their soul, thinking they should never have contracted with a human.
But— "Even so—I will call upon you once more."
'—You who have reached the tower's summit, the supplicant of omnipotence who treads upon each floor' "I love you. If you will accept the courtship of this vain show-off, then let us forge a new contract—between me and you!"
Julius cried out, his voice ringing through the air, raising the arm he had once lowered toward the sky.
Hearing his plea, the quasi-spirits that had scattered like sparks hung quietly in the air, flickering for just one second.
Hesitation and uncertainty—that one second was all it took.
△▼△▼△▼△ Warm light enveloped Julius Euclius's entire body.
It seeped, gentle and faint, into the wound on his soul that had been carved by the severance of their contract.
There had been joy. There had been anger. There had been sorrow. There had been love. There had been hatred.
All of those countless emotions—more than a decade's worth—had existed between Julius and them.
To first treat it as if it never happened, then to weave a new future from nothing.
He didn't know if this was the right answer. But he believed it could become the right answer.
He would make mistakes, again and again.
He could not always choose the right path, and there would be times he stumbled.
But each time, he would forge himself anew.
Even if he was wrong, he would not be alone. He would never be alone.
If he moved forward, there was the ideal forged by the magnificent predecessors who had paved the way.
If he faltered, there was the warmth of the buds who had watched over him with unwavering love.
And if he looked to his side, there was the profile of his master, who had sworn to dedicate her beliefs to shaping who he was.
What, from this point forward, could Julius Euclius possibly have to fear?
"—Indeed. My beautiful maidens in full bloom."
At those words, the six buds—or rather, the maidens who had bloomed—gave their answer.
Light was born— △▼△▼△▼△ "From here on, deeply, gently, and sometimes through pain—I shall walk this road."
The pain of having their contract severed was healed by the bonds reformed between them.
Cloaked in an even more transcendent light than before, Julius Euclius looked ahead.
There stood the pinnacle he had once aspired to—that figure who shattered himself upon his sword.
But the object of Julius Euclius's admiration lay somewhere different from that pinnacle.
So he did not hesitate to carve his own path through with a rainbow's light.
"I kept you waiting, Sword Saint Reid Astrea. —Pleased to make your acquaintance."
With a flourish of his knight's sword, Julius seized his mantle and bowed elegantly.
Then, raising his head, he embodied the very thing he had admired most in all the world and declared himself.
"I am the Finest Knight, Julius Euclius. I am the Kingdom's blade—and I will cut you down."