—Dear gods, dear Buddhas, dear Od Laguna. I swear to never hold a stuffed animal for the rest of my life.
△▼△▼△▼△ "————"
The moment his chin was wrenched down into his knee,
Strange, inexplicable, utterly bizarre, a vortex of doubts, suspicion, questions, something's off, a massive upheaval, error, preposterousness, irregularity, wrongness, foul play, confusion, uncertainty, doubt-doubt-doubt-doubt-doubt-doubt— "Die."
Her outstretched white fingers drove a chokehold into the upward-facing Roy's neck. The rising urge to vomit, the strangled breath — pain and suffocation seized Roy's diminutive frame.
But Ram's true terror lay in the fact that she did not soften her grip one bit.
"Huura."
Between the fingers clamped around his throat, blades of wind manifested. The razor-sharp edges caught the cornered Roy's slender neck dead-on, mercilessly severing his head from his torso— "———Not gonna work!"
In that instant, the wind slash cut through and blood erupted from Roy's neck like a burst.
But that was not enough to reach the life of Roy, who possessed the "beast of prey" Beli Heinerga's thick hide — the same hide that the thousand swords the guards had unleashed, in their attempt to capture a dangerous criminal, could not penetrate.
"————"
Ram's eyes widened at the unexpected result. In that instant, Roy used the momentum of his chokehold posture to drag her along, teleporting in the blink of an eye to the skies above the battlefield — the leaping power of the "Leaper," Dorcul.
One day, abruptly, as if touched by divine revelation, the "Leaper" who had bonded with Od Laguna and gained otherworldly powers used that ability to assassinate numerous powerful figures, becoming a destroyer of order. The teleportation had no precursors. Catching Ram completely off guard, he forcibly subdued her, and used that opening to appraise the spoils on the battlefield— "El Huura!"
"Nghh — seriously?!"
Without hesitation, Ram fired a wind spell straight at his gut. Roy let out an involuntary exclamation of admiration.
Without a doubt, the teleportation must have caught Ram by surprise. Yet she had digested the shock of failing to behead him and the surprise of the teleportation in a single instant, counterattacking immediately. What nerve! What fortitude!
"Amazing!"
That wind blade, too, could not pierce the "beast of prey's" armored hide. But he wanted to commend her quick judgment and decisive action. And so, imbued with that sentiment, he returned the favor with the punch of the "Fist King,"
The blow from the "Fist King," who had crushed the heads of every powerful fighter on the gladiator island — if it connected, Ram's delicate body would be smashed to pulp— Ram vanished.
"Lost sight of Ram? What use are those eyes of yours."
A sudden voice. Ram, who should have disappeared, reappeared behind him. Roy reflexively hurled the "Fist King's" strike without looking — and whiffed. As if by magic, a presence materialized overhead, and a mule kick to the back of the neck sent him plummeting headfirst toward the ground, falling, falling, falling— "Ah, how beautiful."
Falling toward the ground back-first, Roy didn't even bother with a landing stance. His eyes were entirely transfixed on the sight above — the hem of her skirt fluttering, her pink hair dancing elegantly in the wind. He crashed into the ground defenselessly, the impact from his back driving straight through to his stomach, pain shooting through his entire body. But he didn't care.
—The "Beast of Prey" × the "Leaper" × the "Fist King."
Among the powers the "Gluttony" had devoured — the cream of the crop of those beyond the mundane — Roy was involuntarily moved by Ram's masterful command of power, technique, and mental clarity.
Feeling he had to show his own best, Roy swung himself to his feet and crouched low, gathering strength to spring at Ram.
Because— "I have to pour my entire heart, everything I've got, into repaying this hospitality — otherwise it wouldn't really be love, now would it?"
"That way of thinking... is suspiciously similar to something I've heard before, and I despise it thoroughly."
But before Roy could leap back into the air, a savage roar attacked from the side. The roar carried with it razor-sharp claws and explosive charging force.
Twin twisted horns, a towering frame supported by limbs that seemed far too slender for the task yet ran with sinuous grace — it was the very synonym for ferocity and savagery known as the "Jet-Black King of the Forest"— "————!!"
"Whoo — Guiltiarau!!"
A claw swipe descended upon the cheering Roy. Instinctively, Roy countered with the power of the "Snow Eater," Tislo. The out-of-spec physical strength of the legendary being who had single-handedly stopped an avalanche caught the descending demon beast's massive forepaws head-on — right foreleg, then left — catching them and locking in a grapple.
Then, summoning his strength, he was about to twist off both of Guiltiarau's legs when — in that instant, he ducked beneath the demon beast and found himself face-to-face with Ram's pale eyes, staff at the ready.
"Truly, you're the most—"
"Huura."
Without even letting him finish, a wind bullet struck him in the forehead, and he was blasted away by Guiltiarau's tail strike. Sent flying, Roy skidded across the ground on his claw tips and raised his head.
Behind Ram, who stood with staff at the ready, Meili clung to Guiltiarau's back, pointing her slender fingers at Roy — no, behind Roy — and screamed: "Go get 'em, dark puppy-dogs!!"
"————!!"
Responding to Meili's shrill voice, countless red lights hurtled ferociously toward Roy.
They were the gleaming red eyes of snarling black dogs baring their fangs and lunging at prey — demon beasts carrying curses and magic power beyond their natural frames, a pack of Ulgarm.
The pack of dark hounds mercilessly drove their fangs into the "Gluttony's" body and tore. Ironically, the end of Roy Alphard, who had claimed the name of "Gourmand," was to become morsels for these wretched beasts— "Aaah aaAA aaAA aa—"
The demon beasts' movements froze at the sudden song that rose from Roy's throat.
With the rabid dogs immobilized, Roy gently stroked the head of one that had latched onto his neck — and in the next moment, the blood gushing from his wounds transformed into blades, lashing out to slash, impale, and skewer the trapped beasts, drawing out their death screams.
"Heave-ho."
Slowly rising to his feet, Roy displayed his full body.
Across his body, the demon dogs' bite wounds glowed. The blood flowing from them turned into glistening blades, and the black dogs hung from them like fruit dangling from orchard branches, reduced to lifeless husks.
The curse songs of Notta, the "Tragic Songstress" who had traveled singing subversive songs in every land, combined in a dream duet with Advan, the "Blood Tear Demon," a mage who could only manipulate his own blood. Furthermore, utilizing the residual mana left in the dead demon beasts' corpses — a technique of Matokrima Joradon, the "Rainbow Phantom Duke," who had once plotted to overthrow the Holy Kingdom — the corpses became chrysalises from which iridescent butterflies emerged, fluttering delicately around Roy.
One butterfly for each corpse — emerging, fluttering, fluttering, fluttering, fluttering— "Ta-daah!"
—The "Snow Eater" × the "Tragic Songstress" × the "Blood Tear Demon" × the "Rainbow Phantom Duke."
Surrounded by countless iridescent butterflies, Roy adorned his grand stage with heartfelt praise for the truly exquisite hospitality Ram and the others had shown him.
However, Ram and Meili hardened their gazes and attitudes, making their hostility plain.
"My, my, that was incredible! That perfectly synchronized teamwork just now — it gave me goosebumps! When did you two become such good friends? Did you grow closer during that Sand Sea journey we know nothing about? Ram-san, Meili-san, you're so mean!"
"Stop speaking to us so casually while you're covered in blood and look like absolute hell. Having a conversation with a lunatic makes Ram's little bird's heart feel like it's going to burst with anxiety!"
"A little bird's heart! Ah, I really respect that you can say that about yourself with a straight face. I can't wait to see what little tricks you pull next — the excitement just won't stop!"
Clapping his hands with delight, Roy smoothly retracted the blood blades into his body. As demon beast corpses thudded to the ground, Roy solidified the blood from his bite wounds, quickly stemmed the bleeding, and let out a blissful sigh.
It seemed his sincere feelings hadn't gotten through, but the admiration was genuine. One-sided affection is painful. But he wanted to cherish the fact that Ram and the others had fought even harder than he'd expected.
"That said, though..."
Setting aside his affection for Ram and the others, Roy turned his mind to the truth behind the inexplicable phenomenon he had witnessed during the last dozen-odd seconds of combat — and deduced that it was closely connected to the disappeared "Divine Dragon."
He had been truly, genuinely surprised. The massive "Divine Dragon" was simply nowhere on the battlefield.
"Probably the same trick that made helmet-uncle and ninja-lady disappear, and the same one that brought Ram-san and Meili-san in... I think it was Crind, but it sure seems like an Authority, doesn't it?"
Aldebaran and Yae had vanished, and so had the "Divine Dragon." Together with the increased enemies and Ram's comings and goings — all of it lined up with Crind's special skill from the "Memories."
However, based on Roy's own knowledge outside of the "Memories," what made that possible was most likely not an individual's innate ability, nor a Blessing of a different nature — but an Authority.
In that case, Crind would be the holder of the sole vacant seat — "Pride."
"Well, I don't really care about people who aren't here right now."
Not just the "Divine Dragon," but Crind and Roswaal were also absent from the battlefield.
He wasn't sure of Crind's capabilities, but if he possessed an Authority, he'd at minimum be combat-worthy. With Roswaal and Crind as a tag team, they could take on the "Divine Dragon" in a large-scale battle — and to avoid collateral damage to the surrounding area, they'd relocated the fight elsewhere. That was probably the situation behind the scenes.
Either way, if they'd vanished from the battlefield, there was no chance of that disappearing-and-reappearing trick being used again.
If that was the case, then the hospitality of the ladies before him took priority over those absent fair-weather friends.
"Humans — humans really are something, aren't they?"
The method of thwarting the Eclipse, the provision of nameless beasts for him to devour — indeed, every element that comprised this battlefield was part of an orchestrated conspiracy, prepared expressly to trap and kill Roy and his kind.
Preparations for the confrontation — that was what one called the setup, the very spirit of hospitality. To give one's all in the service of hospitality. —For that is what it means to break someone's heart.
"Then I've got to match that with an appropriate dress code of my own — it'd be rude not to reciprocate that love-filled thoughtfulness!"
"......What are you planning?"
Sensing Roy's transformation as the one being welcomed, Ram knit her perfectly shaped brows. To the beautiful maid who bared her wariness, Roy simply shook his head, saying, "No, no."
All-out war — yes, this was a battle worthy of that name, a true final reckoning.
The allied forces of the Royal Selection — had
This wasn't just true of Ram and the others. Every combatant who had been deployed without reservation wore that same expression. As far as Roy Alphard was concerned, this was his peak — a moment where he wanted to award every single one a perfect score and a gold star.
The only imperfection that marred that gold star was not on the opponents' side. —It was on his own.
"————"
At the edge of his vision, he could see a red-haired man — Heinkel — squatting pathetically in the same section of the battlefield, nosebleed dripping steadily.
Speaking from a "Gluttony's" perspective, Roy's assessment of Heinkel was surprisingly not bad.
The life he led, bound by self-made chains and harboring a dark anguish he could never reveal — there was a murky depth to that existence, an intrinsic richness that made him interesting as a delicacy.
However, the prerequisite for that was that it not obstruct the main course with its sight or smell. And in the current state of things, even from a "Gluttony's" perspective, Heinkel was no eyesore.
"No matter how lavish the dinner party, it's ruined if a plate of compost makes it onto the table."
In this battlefield where every last person was about to throw their lives against each other in unison, having even one element that could ruin it all was unbearable — even for the "Gourmand."
And so— "Hey, uncle! Stop moping around and get it together!"
"Wha — the... Sin Archbishop..."
Roy's suddenly booming voice made the blood-nosed Heinkel raise his head. Their eyes met, and seeing those blue eyes waver unnaturally, Roy found it amusing.
The man was practically begging. If he had even a shred of camaraderie or a desire to rely on someone, there had to be a limit to throwing dignity to the wind in front of a Sin Archbishop. That boundless wretchedness was, in a sense, irreplaceable — but right now, it was simply in the way.
"—Say, how about I set you free from your burden, uncle?"
He wouldn't save him. He wouldn't abandon him.
He simply grinned and offered Heinkel a third option.
"————"
Even with Heinkel's eyes wide, the proposal reached him — undeniably.
How precious that burden — the thing Roy had just called it — was to Heinkel, Roy didn't know the details. But it was surely something more important than his own life or death. That Roy possessed the means to take it away — Heinkel could see that with his own eyes.
That Roy's offer was no empty threat, but a viable option.
And so— "That's the spirit."
At the change in the teeth-clenching man's expression, Roy's heart soared with genuine elation. As if responding to the swell of his emotions, the iridescent butterflies began to dance as though courting.
Amid the iridescent scales glinting in the air, Roy let his tongue loll out and grinned. —Now, truly, the all-out war could begin.
"So full, yet so unwilling to be satisfied... Life — it's so rich in flavor it's astonishing."
△▼△▼△▼△ —Dear gods, dear Buddhas, dear Od Laguna. I swear to never use needle and thread for the rest of my life.
△▼△▼△▼△ "Guh...!"
His back and chest struck simultaneously — a crushing impact that left Heinkel no recourse but to crumple.
Carol and Grimm — the elderly servant couple who had long served the Astrea household — their granddaughter, who had also received training in the Flow Arts: the twin sisters' kicks were fatal weapons that made no allowance for their youth.
"Oof, ugh, err..."
Since the end of the Vollachian Empire war, he had barely managed to eat properly. Gastric juice was wrung from his empty stomach, and Heinkel collapsed pathetically to his knees on the ground.
"————"
Looking down coldly at Heinkel, Flam and Grasis — and Heinkel's own cheeks twisted with self-mockery.
Even so, Heinkel was the current head of the Astrea household. And the Remendis family daughters, who were supposed to have sworn loyalty to him — what brazen looks they gave.
"Our loyalty is devoted to the young master."
"Our lord stabbed the previous lord right in the gut."
At the razor-sharp edge of the twins' retort, Heinkel fell silent, unable to even muster a word of resentment.
Both were undeniable truths — more than sufficient reason for the twins to hate and view him as an enemy. The former had always gnawed at him, while the latter was a fresh sin that had come to weigh on him, pressing down on his entire body like a millstone.
And yet— "Can't... die..."
The words ground out between his back teeth could be taken two ways. —That he couldn't afford to die after receiving such a beating. Or that he hadn't died despite receiving such a beating.
And Heinkel himself didn't know which he had meant.
"Ugh—!"
The twins showed no mercy. No hesitation.
The hands and feet of the girls, their bodies suffused with the Flow Arts, had been honed to a strength that put steel to shame. The barrage of blows they unleashed was like being caught in a rain of iron.
Up, down, left, right, front, back — Flam and Grasis attacked in perfectly synchronized coordination, and Heinkel could only defend desperately, using his sword to guard vital points while enduring the relentless pummeling.
—The Flow Arts. Come to think of it, Heinkel had never properly mastered those, either.
The combat techniques that top-tier swordsmen and warriors performed unconsciously — even when taught carefully and methodically, Heinkel had never been able to fully incorporate them for actual combat.
Flam and Grasis were only twelve, weren't they? Despite having spent more than twice their years on training, Heinkel's Flow Arts didn't even come close to theirs.
If he could have dismissed it as a matter of talent, perhaps one of his hundred torments would have been lifted.
"Damn... it!"
A probing sword slash — the twins dodged it with nothing more than a glance exchanged between them. Seeing through his half-hearted swordsmanship with ease, they pierced through every vital point from his elbows to his ribs to his neck.
Bones creaked, and blood dripped from a mouth that could produce nothing but bile. The moment he looked down, the twins pounced as if they'd been waiting — flipping through the air and kicking him square in the nose.
"Gah—!"
Reeling backward, Heinkel slammed the back of his head hard on the ground. His vision flickered, a piercing ring in his ears fading into the distance. He nearly lost consciousness for a moment, then forced himself back, hurriedly rising to his feet and gripping his sword, glaring straight ahead.
Before him, the twins had landed side by side after their flip, carefully brushed off their hems, and raised their faces. —Their gazes met, and in them Heinkel saw a faint trace of bewilderment.
"————"
The source of the twins' bewilderment was most likely that Heinkel was still standing.
A mere dozen or so seconds — and that was all it had taken to reduce Heinkel to a wreck. His clothes were caked in mud, and his face, already sporting unkempt stubble, was thoroughly smeared with the blood dripping steadily from his nose.
And yet, Heinkel did not fall. His consciousness did not falter, and he kept his eyes open without interruption. From the impact of their blows, this was simply unbelievable to Flam and the others.
"Hah... hah..."
But sadly, the stamina to surprise the twins was nothing to boast about.
The sword tip he aimed at them trembled. His bravado was plain for anyone to see. The outcome was already decided — no, it hadn't even been a fight to begin with. Since it wasn't a fight, there was no outcome to decide. They hadn't even reached the stage where that mattered.
"But still...!"
He couldn't fall here. He had to endure.
If he fell here, what had he come this far for? Why had he stabbed his father —
If he kept holding on, hope would cling by a single thread of skin. Surely, he would see a light.
Aldebaran, or the "Divine Dragon." Or maybe Yae. At worst, even a Sin Archbishop would do. Someone would break open the battlefield, and Heinkel's hope would— "Hey, uncle! Stop moping around and get it together!"
Suddenly, a voice cleaved the battlefield, and Heinkel raised his head with a start.
For the first time, he became consciously aware. The "Divine Dragon's" massive form was nowhere on the battlefield. Not just Aldebaran and Yae — even the "Divine Dragon" was gone. The only ones left on this side were Heinkel and— "Wha — the... Sin Archbishop..."
—Roy Alphard, who was himself confronting enemies on his own.
Disappointed in himself for having been so oblivious to his surroundings for who knows how long, Heinkel attempted to gauge Roy's intent in calling to him.
Cooperating with a Sin Archbishop — honestly, even he thought something was wrong with him. But in the Vollachian Empire, Natsuki Subaru,
He had gone to the trouble of escaping from the prison tower. A Sin Archbishop probably didn't want to die, either. Even if they were an enemy to be despised, if they shared the same goal, there might be room to join forces— "—Say, how about I set you free from your burden, uncle?"
But the words that followed dealt a direct blow to Heinkel's expectations.
"————"
Neither an offer of assistance, nor a plea for help. A wildly out-of-place, selfish remark.
What on earth was he thinking? Did he understand the situation? There was no Aldebaran to crack open the path with bewildering power, no "Divine Dragon" — the strongest creature in existence — no Yae, master of petty tricks and harassment. None of them were here. There was only the weak, fragile, powerless Heinkel and the foul-hearted great sinner Roy, and he was putting distance between them? —No, he hadn't put distance between them. The distance was already there. An uncrossable gap, an unbridgeable cliff, an absolute chasm — and now, that fact had become clear. And now that it was clear, what of it? What about the words he was saying? Now that he understood what those words meant, what should he do? —Set Heinkel free from his burden? This burden that had fused with Heinkel's very soul?
—That was not permitted. And he would not permit it.
"That's the spirit."
Roy's voice, brimming with genuine delight, did not reach Heinkel's ears.
Rising to his feet with an unsteady, ghost-like sway, Heinkel faced Flam and Grasis, who briefly hardened their expressions before exchanging a wordless look and nodding.
And then— "My lord. Prepare yourself."
"We'll put everything we have into this."
As if deciding that half-hearted blows would only backfire, the twins' fighting spirit sharpened to a razor's edge. Heinkel could feel it on his skin.
True to their declaration, a full-power strike was coming. The moment he realized it, Flam and Grasis kicked off the ground and lunged straight at Heinkel. —No, not straight.
"Haah!"
In sync with their voices and movements, the twins tore up chunks of earth with their kicks and blasted them forward. Heinkel's entire field of vision was swallowed by the hurtling debris.
He split it clean in two with a single swing of his sword. It wasn't a person, wasn't a life. When it was just an object, there was no hesitation in Heinkel's cut.
But beyond the cleaved earth, in the opened field of vision, the twins were nowhere to be seen.
Instead, the twins flanked Heinkel from both sides and drove in the most powerful strike they had yet delivered, punching straight into his ribs without mercy.
"—Guu."
Without exaggeration, their fists sank in up to the wrists.
Heinkel's ribs were shattered, and the impact drove directly into the organs behind them. Blood surged up with tremendous force, spewing violently from his mouth. Heinkel nearly lost consciousness.
But he didn't lose it. He held on. More than that — clenching his teeth and twisting his body, he forcibly grabbed the sisters' arms that had pierced him.
"—Ah."
"Bad."
At the pain of having their wrists crushed, Flam and Grasis grimaced.
They struck at Heinkel with their free limbs and legs — blows landing like a storm of steel — but Heinkel didn't release the arms he'd seized. He hadn't earned them through skill. But if there was one thing Heinkel could claim surpassed others, it was this outrageous durability, and the best way to use it was probably this.
Pummeled relentlessly, yet still grappling with his opponents. —A counterattack that wouldn't even pass in the wind — crude, unrefined, and perfectly suited to
"Ahhhhh!!"
With a face fouled by nosebleed and swollen from blows, Heinkel raised both arms high and slammed the twins he'd seized into the ground with all his might.
In that instant, he forgot that they were children, forgot that they served his household, forgot that they were the granddaughters of Carol and Grimm — people he had known since before he was born. —No, not forgot. He closed his eyes, staked everything, and drove the two headfirst into the ground— △▼△▼△▼△ —Dear gods, dear Buddhas, dear Od Laguna. I swear to never sing a song for the rest of my life.
△▼△▼△▼△ Butterflies that used corpses as chrysalises and the embers of life as fuel to emerge — the magical technique devised by the "Rainbow Phantom Duke" did not create new life.
The butterflies merely took that form; their essence was the opposite of creation — the embodiment of death.
"Your brother's trump card, wasn't it — that rainbow magic."
Within the devoured "Memories," the sensation that throbbed with sweet recollection was the aurora sheathed around his sword. In principle, it was the same thing as the ultimate technique wielded by the "Supreme" knight — the iridescent butterflies.
What the "Supreme" had realized through the power of the spirits she'd contracted with using her talent, the "Rainbow Phantom Duke" activated in exchange for the remnants of withered lives. That was all there was to it.
"But this — the power stays the same, so—"
The death butterflies that obliterated everything they touched — at Roy's signal, about twenty of them simultaneously swarmed toward Ram and Meili.
Against this approaching threat, Ram and Meili instantly coordinated.
"Sis Ram!"
"Your form of address is wrong."
"I know, I know — ma'am!"
Exchanging banter with just the right touch of seriousness, Meili, astride Guiltiarau, surged forward. Then she slapped the back of the jet-black demon beast, commanding its massive forelimbs to forcibly snap the surrounding trees.
Trees toppled with cracking sounds, and Ram dashed into the gap. Crouching low and holding her staff straight— "El Huura."
The wind that arose sent the felled trees hurtling forward, crashing into the butterfly swarm head-on. The butterflies scattering their deadly scales were struck by the full force, triggering an auroral explosion.
"Gnnn—!"
The optimal solution — and yet Roy stamped his feet in frustration, unable to contain his shudder.
The iridescent butterflies, which possessed the power to unravel the composition of anything they touched, were essentially one-touch death stones. The trade-off for that immense destructive power was that they were single-use — and using obstacles to trigger the explosion was the safest approach.
Even so, handling it on first sight — even Roy was impressed by that.
"But that's not all!!"
If the butterflies were annihilated like that, even the "Rainbow Phantom Duke" would weep in the shadows of the grass.
The head-on charge of the butterflies had been consumed by the rainbow explosion, but surviving butterflies — five at a time — swooped wide in a flanking maneuver toward Ram and the others.
Furthermore, this time it wasn't just the butterflies. Roy had also teleported there with the "Leaper's" power. From there, using the "Snow Eater's" crushing strength, he first targeted Guiltiarau for a killing blow.
—The "Rainbow Phantom Duke" × the "Leaper" × the "Snow Eater."
The auroral dazzlement blocked Ram and the others from the front, the surviving iridescent butterflies attacked from both flanks, and Roy himself closed in from directly behind — a three-pronged death trap with no escape, erupting mercilessly toward Ram and the others. In that instant, a baby's cry tore through Roy's eardrums.
"————!!"
A shriek unfit for the battlefield seized Roy's thoughts for a moment. Before his eyes, what cried out with a baby's voice was a demonic beast of such blasphemous construction — what could only be called God's failed creation — wielding two burning spears of bone, sweeping them to incinerate the iridescent butterflies that had formed the encirclement.
Amid the renewed auroral explosions, as his hair billowed in the blast, Roy set his eyes on the grotesque being that had appeared before him — the Hungry Horse King, which should only have existed beneath the Sand Sea.
"That was a lot of trouble to bring him here, you know."
A torso vaguely resembling a man's upper body, topped by a massive head made of enormous horns and a gaping maw, supported by an absurdly long horse's neck and body below — the fusion of man and horse was twisted and grotesque beyond description. —And Guiltiarau, upon which Meili had been riding moments ago, had swapped places with the Hungry Horse King.
"————"
At this revelation, Roy's thoughts were thrown into complete disarray, and the grand council within his "Memories" scrambled for answers.
On the agenda: the truth behind the events before him, how to address the imminent danger closing in, an appropriate reaction to the shocking fact, and the urgency of it all — a tangled mess.
And just before he could select the highest priority— "What the hell are you looking at? You've got a pig's dumb face."
The voice came from directly behind. A massive fist drove clean through Roy's small frame.
"———"
Struck from behind, Roy's body flew upward, soaring over the heads of the Hungry Horse King and Meili. Even the exploding auroras couldn't catch up as he skidded across the ground. He plunged one hand into the earth to arrest his momentum, twisted midair to land, and with an acrobatic recovery forced the enemy to abandon their pursuit.
In Roy's field of vision, he caught sight of Meili astride the Hungry Horse King, the massive pig-faced man in a black suit who had appeared beside her, and Ram — who was clearly in a different position than before. —The appearance of a new enemy, and the baffling replacement tactic executed in an instant — the possibility he had cast aside came rushing back.
"No, that wasn't it."
Because he had the "Memories," he'd been trapped by unnecessary preconceptions.
This instantaneous swap was the work of an Authority — specifically Crind's power. So he'd thought there was no need to worry about it on this battlefield after Crind and the "Divine Dragon" had disappeared.
But— "——If you're a father yourself, don't you dare lay a hand on kids!!"
What he heard was a thick voice burning with fury, followed by a thunderous impact. At the edge of his vision, Heinkel — who had seized the twin girls in both arms — had taken a fist to the face.
The one who had landed that devastating blow was a large man Roy recognized from his "Memories" — indeed,
"————"
Heinkel was sent flipping over, and the twins barely escaped.
Whether Roy's earlier goading had done any good was debatable — Heinkel had nearly pulled it off, but the counterattack had been snuffed out before it could even start.
Then again, Roy was in no position to laugh at Heinkel. He had been beaten down by the same opponent with the same trick.
And that opponent was not Crind.
"Eh? Seriously? That's a thing that can happen?"
Unable to come up with any other possibility, Roy questioned himself over the most unexpected truth of all.
His voice was colored purely with surprise. There was no intent to deny or belittle the fact — none at all. But if it were true, it was inconceivably beyond expectations.
Even mobilizing every memory he had of her, the only conclusion was: "No way."
It wasn't Crind. It had been intervening with exquisite timing in Ram and the others' fight against Roy, and in the twins' beatdown of Heinkel.
It had been overseeing this entire all-out war, using an Authority to continuously restructure the situation.
It was— "—Petra? Since when did you become a Sin Archbishop?"
"That's a terrible way to put it. If you're going to use a terrible way to put it, then at least address me like this."
Saying that, the girl who harbored the
And declared— "—Petra Reit, the Witch of Melancholy."