“We won!”

“We actually won!”

“We’re alive!”

In the battle between Ezer and Krata, the Ezer forces had successfully repelled Krata’s pursuit unit, regaining control of the war.

“Lady Nael!”

Lilien ran up to Nael. Before the dazed beastkin warrior lay a shattered sword.

“That’s…”

“That’s what you thought was Lutan,” Nael explained, telling her that the opponent had been only one of Lutan’s many swords.

“You’re saying there are more of these ridiculous weapons?”

“You’ve seen Soul Swords before, haven’t you?”

“Of course, but the weapon you just described feels so… forcibly made.”

She was right. The most important thing about a Soul Sword was the soul imbued within it. Whether pure good or pure evil, only a complete soul could make it a true Soul Sword.

But the swords Lutan had forged contained incomplete souls.

“I don’t know exactly how those souls were made, but they give off a deeply unsettling feeling.”

“So you don’t know the details either, Lady Nael?”

“No.”

Nael looked back at Lilien.

“Not that it matters right now.”

She let out a long sigh.

“Tia went east, correct?”

“Yes? Ah, yes!” Lilien answered.

“Her Majesty went toward the Demon King.”

“It would’ve been better if we’d discussed things first.”

Nael regretted it—if they were going to aid Clay, it would’ve been better to move together.

Then again, I didn’t tell her my plans either.

Both she and Tia had acted on their own, which had led to the earlier chaos.

“Lilien.”

“Yes.”

“I have no authority to give you orders, but I can make a request. Will you hear it?”

Lilien swallowed hard. With Tia absent and Rexton dead, she was now the highest-ranking commander here.

“Of course.”

She knew full well that without Nael, they’d all be dead. Even if Nael had issued an outright order, she’d have accepted it. Tia herself would have understood.

“In that case, let’s keep pushing west against Krata together.”

Nael’s request was exactly what Lilien had hoped for.

“I’ll protect your forces in Tia’s stead. We have to hold two fronts, or Krata won’t be able to counterattack effectively.”

“That’s exactly what I was going to ask you.”

Lilien’s face brightened.

“Her Majesty left the western front in my hands. If you help, I’ll give it everything I have.”

“Good. Then let’s do it together.”

Nael gestured around them.

“Since we’ve fallen back this far, first count the troops, then separate the wounded. Send the severely injured back to Ezer, using the lightly wounded as escorts. Only take those who can fight properly for the advance.”

“Understood.”

Lilien bowed. Just having this legendary hero with them felt like gaining an army.

“I’ll hurry, then.”

She ran off to rally the soldiers. Watching the commander’s excitement just at having survived, Nael let out a faint laugh.

Tia…

Nael knew well that Clay would want to forgive Tia least of all.

I never thought you’d end up like this.

She had once envied Tia, for Clay’s eyes had always turned toward her. Nael had wanted those eyes for herself. Yes… that had been jealousy.

Was that my chance?

When everyone else turned their backs on Clay—perhaps that had been the last moment she could have claimed his undivided attention.

She closed her eyes tight.

She’d squandered that chance herself, though she hadn’t been able to act differently at the time.

What was that, back then?

Before Clay was captured, they had been traveling together when she noticed something strange. One night in camp, he rose and wandered off alone. She followed and saw him murmuring to himself.

“Clay?” she called, but he didn’t respond. Moving closer, she saw light spilling from his eyes and mouth.

He didn’t even notice her shocked step back—just kept murmuring. Listening closely, she realized it was a prayer in an ancient tongue, calling out to a god.

“Clay!” she’d shouted, a chill running down her spine. He stopped, turned to her with a calm expression, and asked when she’d arrived.

In that moment, he’d felt like a stranger.

And when the Holy Nation Alliance arrested him, he’d offered no resistance—not as if he trusted they’d clear his name, but as if he felt nothing at all.

It was incomprehensible. She could no longer understand him, and so she hadn’t saved him. She’d acted only according to the ideals he’d taught her.

She thought it was all part of some plan of his, so she’d forced herself not to panic or lash out—because she wasn’t clever.

Her teacher, Clay, had always been the clever one.

But after all her waiting, he’d simply died, and had come to resent her.

It was my fault.

If she was going to be foolish, she should have been foolish in the way she’d always been—charging ahead without thought. She should have forgotten what she’d seen that night and acted on her feelings, leaping to his side even if it meant dying with him.

But that was the past—unchangeable, no matter how much she wanted to go back. At least now she understood what he wanted, and she would follow.

That was all she could do.

“I’ll do it,” she murmured, looking down at her fists.

“With all the strength I have.”

“Demon King.”

Some distance from the Demon King Army’s camp, Syltanaro walked beside Clay in human form.

“Is it really all right for just us to go?”

It wasn’t often that the army’s leader left the battlefield during war. Leaving Beatrice behind was one thing, but she thought they should bring more people along.

“It’s fine,” Clay replied.

“You and Selimia will be enough.”

At that, Syltanaro glanced back. Selimia trailed behind, unable to even lift her head after her crushing defeat to Tia.

“…Are you sure?”

Syltanaro wore a worried expression.

“I hate to say this, but Selimia seems badly shaken. Doesn’t she need time to recover?”

“She’s not coming along for combat strength anyway.”

Clay was traveling with Selimia and Syltanaro toward Hanumayer.

“As I explained before we set out, I have something on me—just like what was attached to Tia when she received that power.”

He still didn’t know exactly how it was connected, but the unerasable mark on the back of his hand was proof of some kind of link.

“To control the variables, I need to properly identify what’s latched onto me.”

“And that’s possible in Hanumayer?”

“Yes. At the ‘Boundary of the Snowfields’ in Hanumayer, even things from outside this world can be examined.”

But first, they needed a safe way into Hanumayer—and that was why Selimia was with them.

“Selimia.”

“…”

“Selimia?”

“Ah.”

Startled from her thoughts by Clay’s repeated call, Selimia blinked.

“Yes, w-what is it?”

“Focus.” Clay’s voice was sharp, “We’re heading to Hanumayer—your homeland. You know as well as I do that if you space out like that, you could get badly hurt the moment we set foot in the North.”

The North was full of all manner of beasts—creatures unlike any demons. In fact, Selimia herself had once been one of those beasts.

“Tia was someone you couldn’t beat. Don’t dwell on it.”

It was meant as comfort of a sort, but Selimia’s face only grew gloomier.

“I’m sorry, Demon King.” Her voice was low, “I didn’t know I was that weak.”

“You’re not that weak.”

She was strong enough to have been chosen as one of his Four Demon Generals. Aside from Beatrice, none of the others could stand against her.

“You are strong.”

“Not enough to be of help to you, Demon King.”

She exhaled heavily, her mood sinking deeper.

“I truly believed I was worthy to stand at your side…”

It was as if she’d hit a wall she could never climb.

“To think I couldn’t even properly protect you… I don’t know what to do.”

“She’s broken,” Syltanaro muttered, frowning.

“I’m not sure she’s in the right state to sweet-talk Hanumayer’s soldiers into avoiding trouble when we meet them.”

“Selimia.”

Clay spoke again at Syltanaro’s words.

“As she said, we’ll be facing Hanumayer’s soldiers. And not just them—your brother, Selvaro, will be there too.”

Selimia’s eyes widened slightly, and she looked at Clay. He met her gaze and continued.

“To reach the Boundary of the Snowfields, Selvaro’s cooperation is essential.”

Normally, Hanumayer would have mobilized by now to defend Krata. Even if they kept to the North, they wouldn’t just ignore the situation in a neighboring country under threat from the Demon King’s army.

The only reason they had remained still so far was undoubtedly because of Selimia.

“You remember when I sent you back, don’t you? And what I told you to do.”

Before sending her home, Clay had ordered her to get a firm hold over Selvaro so he could be used.

“You needed to have done that well for me to get what I want there.”

“What you want…”

“Yes. Did you do it?”

She hesitated briefly, then nodded.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

His voice softened.

“You’ve done something only you could do.”

Though they hadn’t yet reached Hanumayer, he was already acknowledging her contribution.

“Your ability has helped. So don’t lose heart.”

He looked forward again.

“I’ll keep trusting you from here on.”

Selimia stopped in her tracks for a moment, staring at him.

“Yes, Demon King,” she murmured, and resumed walking—her eyes regaining their fierce, determined gleam.

(End of Chapter)

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