“Yelena.”

In Ezer.

There, Empress Tia de Mezelef received word of Yelena’s death from an elf who had come to see her.

“So it’s come to that.”

Tia had hoped they could act together, but Yelena had ultimately moved on her own—and lost her life. A futile death.

“Lutan hasn’t shown any reaction to us yet. Even though he must suspect we’re involved.”

Tia crossed her arms and asked,

“Does Lutan have her body?”

“No, he does not.” The elf replied with certainty.

“One of our members who was tracking the Demon King’s movements confirmed that Lady Yelena appeared near him.”

“She appeared near the Demon King?”

After flying straight to Lutan with the World Tree’s power—how could she have ended up there again?

‘Well, it must have been the World Tree again.’

If there was any being that could grant Yelena such miracles, it could only be the World Tree. Lowering her gaze, Tia murmured,

“Either way, it seems she met Clay before she died.”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

The elf let out a soft sigh.

“But we couldn’t recover her body.”

“You couldn’t recover it? Did Clay take it?”

“No. The Demon King left Lady Yelena’s body behind.”

The elf then added, as if this was the real problem.

“We’re not certain, but we believe it was the Blue Tower Master, Yuru.”

“Yuru? What do you mean you’re not certain?”

“Our people weren’t able to observe what happened after the Demon King left her body. We only found them later, already defeated.”

Tia’s brow twitched slightly.

“Then…”

“Yes. Based on the traces left at the scene, we believe it was magic used by the Blue Tower Master.”

What would Yuru do with Yelena’s body? Tia sighed, already certain it wouldn’t be anything pleasant.

“You really can’t rest in peace, can you, Yelena.”

Yelena had been the embodiment of the will of all elves. Which meant all elves had followed her will. It might have seemed freeing, but in truth, it was a tremendous burden. Perhaps the only time she ever experienced any true freedom was when she had been part of Clay’s party.

“……”

It was unfortunate. But Tia had no time to mourn her. And she doubted Yelena would have wanted her to.

What mattered now was—

‘Clay.’

She needed to stay focused on him.

“Let me ask you one thing.”

Tia looked at the elf and asked,

“What will the elves do now?”

They had lost their leader. While it would be natural to select a new one, such a process wouldn’t be easy in a time like this.

“We…”

The elf replied,

“Lady Yelena left us instructions.”

“What kind of instructions?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say.”

Tia stared at her, but the elf remained silent, unwilling to speak.

“Well, you’ve done your duty by informing me of her death. But it’s still disappointing.”

While Yelena was alive, Tia could at least move the elves indirectly. Now, she had to let them go entirely.

“I wish we’d had more time together.”

“Yes, we feel the same.”

The elf bowed to her.

“Now we must go fulfill Lady Yelena’s final will.”

“……”

“May you remain in good health.”

With those words, the elf turned and began to walk away. Tia, watching the retreating figure, suddenly drew the Holy Sword Excalbren from her hip.

Whoosh!

And threw it at the elf.

“!”

Sensing a sinister aura, the elf turned instantly and caught the blade with both hands.

Crack!

But even then, the sword’s momentum didn’t stop. A blinding light surged through, pressing between her hands. The elf cried out.

“W-What are you doing?!”

“It’s obvious what Yelena would have ordered.”

Yelena would have commanded all elves to follow Clay.

“But not everyone follows the orders of someone who’s already gone.”

Tia stepped forward, staring at the elf who was now sweating coldly.

“There could be others—like you—who have their own agendas.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean…!”

“You’re the Chief Commander of the elves, aren’t you?”

The rank directly below the leader.

“With Yelena gone and no new leader chosen, the others would have no choice but to follow your orders.”

“How—how is that a problem?!”

“You really have to ask? You killed everyone else who knew what Yelena had ordered.”

Tia hadn’t been sitting idle. She had long been tracking both Yelena and Nael’s movements.

“H-How did you…!”

The elf’s face turned pale as Tia halted in front of her.

“Those blinded by power tend to overlook things. Like who might be watching from the side.”

“D-Damn it!”

Just as the Holy Sword was about to cut into her, the elf shouted,

“I—I’ll hand over all authority! I’ll make sure you’re the one leading the elves!”

“How generous of you.”

Tia smiled.

“But I can’t accept it.”

“W-What?!”

“I can’t trust a traitor, can I?”

Tia pressed her finger against the Holy Sword’s hilt. That alone gave the blade an even stronger propulsion, slamming into the elf with force.

“Gaaahhh!”

“I’ve heard enough. You can go now.”

As if all the struggle before had merely been play, the sword pierced straight through the elf’s chest.

“Guh…!”

Her chest half-destroyed in an instant, the elf could no longer breathe properly and collapsed to the floor.

“Un…believable…”

“Don’t worry about the remaining elves.”

Tia pulled something from her cloak.

It was a branch.

The elf, eyes bloodshot and filled with horror, stared at it. And just before death, she realized—

It was a branch of the World Tree.

Thud.

Still fixated on it, the elf finally collapsed completely. No life remained in her body.

Clang!

Having completed its mission, the Holy Sword slammed into the floor with a shudder, as if it were screaming. Tia approached and gripped the hilt.

“Well done.”

The sword offered no reply. But Tia could feel its thoughts. The sword hurled curses at her, called her a filthy wretch, damned her to never know peace.

“I understand how you feel.”

As the weapon resonated with its wielder, Tia activated the power of the saintess and severed the sword’s consciousness.

That will was now sealed somewhere within the blade, unable to act again.

“You thought I’d help you. That’s why you let your guard down.”

Tia apologized for having used that trust.

“But this was your choice. And I too suffer for the choices I’ve made. In the end, we’re all sinners.”

And sinners must live in eternal penance.

“Let’s go together, Excalbren.”

She raised the Holy Sword high.

“This time, we’ll act for him.”

The sword could only scream from within.

♧

Night fell.

Near the royal palace of Yaphenon.

Figures in dark crimson robes gathered.

“You made all the preparations, right?”

“Of course. We’ve secured every entry point.”

“Seems they’ve been so focused on rebuilding that they’ve gotten sloppy with security.”

These were members of Yaphenon’s last remaining shamanic group—Red Sky.

“Tonight, we’ll bring down the false king.”

They had taken issue with Neville, who had taken control of Yaphenon and begun its reconstruction.

Neville was Krata’s crown prince. Even if he claimed to act independently, he didn’t belong in Yaphenon.

After all, Krata had done nothing when Yaphenon was in peril. And there were rumors it was Krata that had instigated the crisis in the first place.

“We’ll become the new sky of this era.”

Of course, that was just the justification. What they truly desired was to take Yaphenon for themselves.

Their goal was to restore the nation into a mighty land of shamans once more.

“Let’s show them our power!”

They weren’t entirely wrong. But they had no intention of sharing their power with anyone else. In their minds, only those who inherited Yaphenon’s shamanic tradition deserved to rule.

“Let’s go.”

They moved.

The security was indeed lax, just as they had expected.

Scaling the walls, they made their way to the palace offices.

Clack.

Empty. Neville was known to work late. The fact he wasn’t here might mean he had already retired to his quarters.

Clack.

No one there either. They looked at one another, perplexed.

“Where the hell did he go?”

They were moving in stealth, but there was no one else in sight.

“The garden?”

“No way. We passed it on the way in.”

“Then where…?”

Their faces darkened as the plan began to unravel in real time.

“The Audience Hall.”

One of them spoke.

“He might be there.”

“The Audience Hall?”

“We heard someone arrived today.”

They hadn’t identified who. Security had been too tight at the time.

“Seemed like a high-ranking figure.”

“Who would come here at a time like this?”

Krata wasn’t making any moves. Who else could it have been?

“We should’ve assigned someone to tail them.”

“It’s too late now.”

“We don’t have time to waste.”

They couldn’t afford to hesitate. If everyone was gathered there…

“As soon as we confirm them all in one place, we unleash the ritual.”

Cramped into a tight space, the victims wouldn’t be able to defend themselves properly.

“They’ll regret ever letting their guard down.”

Mocking Neville’s so-called defenses, they stormed toward the Audience Hall.

It too seemed empty—no sound from within.

“Wait.”

One of them pressed an ear to the door. He couldn’t make out the words, but he heard voices. Several of them.

“They’re here!”

The others immediately threw open the doors.

Neville stood at the base of the steps leading up to the throne. And—

“Huh?”

No one else?

No—someone was sitting on the throne in Neville’s place.

“You’ve arrived.”

The figure spoke.

And in that instant, an overwhelming dread consumed the shamans. They instinctively reached out their hands to cast.

“But I,”

The man had already extended his hand.

“Was faster.”

The Demon King, Clay, smiled.

(End of Chapter)

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