Outskirts of Ezer — the village of Dolchen.

After a wave of fire had swept through, the village looked nothing short of a war zone.

“We didn’t manage to save the mark in the end.”

“Just being alive is lucky enough.”

“True.”

As they cleared away the rubble, the villagers all glanced in one direction.

“If it hadn’t been for that man, we would’ve…”

Standing there was none other than Cardin.

He had driven out those threatening the village and rescued the residents from the flames. Though the fire had grown too fierce for him to preserve Elhaen’s divine mark, what mattered now was that the villagers’ perception had changed.

“Um, Cardin, was it?”

The village elder approached him cautiously.

“You truly didn’t mean to harm us?”

“I already showed you through my actions.”

The elder looked embarrassed at Cardin’s firm response.

“I know… it’s just, even after experiencing it myself, it’s hard to believe…”

“I’ve done all that I came to do.”

Cardin stomped out a lingering ember with his foot and added,

“What you decide to think of the Demon King is up to each of you. I only hope you act wisely—so no more blood has to be shed.”

With that, he retrieved his sword and walked away.

“…Act wisely, he says.”

The elder let out a faint groan.

“I’m not sure it’ll be that easy.”

Even so, something had undeniably begun to shift.

♧

“What happened to Excalbren?”

After her encounter with Yuru, Tia visited a smithy in the capital of Ezer.

“You mentioned you’d be here today, though you’re a bit late.”

The burly, fur-covered blacksmith answered her question and gestured toward the back of the forge.

“The fires are all out today. I cooled the resting chamber to prevent the heat from disturbing Your Majesty.”

“You’ve gone through the trouble.”

Following his lead, Tia stepped into a small room at the back of the forge. As she sat at a table inside, the blacksmith carefully shut the door and took the seat opposite her.

“Your Majesty… are you sure about this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Even if it’s a holy sword, Excalbren was the former Hero’s weapon. People might start rumors… that it’s unbecoming for you to wield it.”

“Rumors?”

Her tone lifted faintly at the end, but it was clear she understood perfectly.

For the Holy Sword of the man who became the Demon King to now be in her hands—of course people would see it as distasteful. Some would even suspect that Excalbren had been tainted by evil.

“Actually, I think it’ll have the opposite effect.”

A soft smile graced Tia’s lips—something rarely seen since the Hero’s death. At that moment, her natural beauty shone with radiance, and the blacksmith could only stare in awe.

“O-opposite, you say…?”

“If I use it, it’ll clear up the misunderstanding surrounding Excalbren.”

She would prove, as a Saintess, that the sword was not tainted.

“But honestly, even if it doesn’t, that’s fine.”

“…Pardon?”

“As long as I can wield the sword’s power, that’s enough. If I combine the Saintess’ strength with that of a divine relic, I’ll be even better prepared to face our enemies.”

“Well, yes, that’s certainly true. Even if the situation is… ironic, there’s still nothing better than the Holy Sword when it comes to fighting the Demon King.”

At that, Tia tilted her head slightly. Her golden hair slipped and flowed with the motion.

“The Demon King isn’t our enemy, though.”

Her innocent demeanor clashed with the weight of her words.

“Y-Your Majesty… if not the Demon King, then…?”

“Yaphenon tried to destroy us. And Krata let it happen. So who poses the most immediate threat?”

The blacksmith was silent. The answer was far too obvious, and yet…

As a subject of a foreign nation, he didn’t dare to utter the name aloud.

“It’s absurd, isn’t it?”

Tia gazed directly at him.

“Ezer is my nation. A land ruled by Tia de Mezelef. And the one in front of you right now—the one who asked you to reforge Excalbren—is me.”

At her command, the most skilled smith in the capital had entrusted the sword to the dwarves of the cooperative forge.

“I gave the order. So why are you worried about what others think?”

The blacksmith fumbled with his words. As he struggled to answer, Tia leaned back in her chair.

“It’s fine. Any more, and it’d just be cruel. I understand what the name ‘Lutan’ stirs in people.”

“Y-Your Majesty…”

“My enemy is Lutan. Not the Demon King.”

The blacksmith could no longer respond. His expression shifted to one desperately seeking a way to escape the situation.

—It has arrived!

A welcome voice came from outside, and the blacksmith seized the chance to speak again.

“I-It seems the item has arrived!”

He rushed out quickly. Outside the smithy, dwarves were just unloading a wooden crate from a wagon.

Short in stature, like gnomes, the dwarves nonetheless had stocky, powerful builds befitting their trade.

“L-look over there, it’s a dwarf!”

“They say they never leave their forges deep in the forest…”

“W-wait, isn’t that…?!”

Just as people were murmuring at the dwarves’ unexpected appearance, they caught sight of the woman exiting the smithy—and gasped.

Tia.

The Empress of Ezer had personally come to the forge. In an instant, a crowd gathered.

“Y-Your Majesty!”

“The Saintess of Victory!”

“Your Majesty!”

All of them wore expressions filled with emotion. Tia briefly turned her gaze toward them.

Back during Clay’s execution—

The people of Ezer had been consumed by rage. They had scorned their own empress.

To them, Ezer was merely a vassal of the Holy Alliance, and Tia was nothing more than a puppet, a mouthpiece for their decrees.

They had once scorned her, but now, with Tia’s rise as a Saintess, their attitudes had shifted.

No—more accurately, their change had begun when Ezer repelled Yaphenon’s invasion and bared its fangs at Krata.

Having glimpsed the power of a "strong empress," the citizens suddenly began to revere her. And this was more than mere respect for a ruler.

They began treating Tia as someone of a different level.

Pathetic.

Tia wore a disinterested expression.

To people who moved solely by the logic of power, she had no emotional attachment. They were merely a difficult audience to manage—fools who only saw what they wanted to see.

“We’ve brought it.”

The tallest of the dwarves stepped forward to speak on their behalf.

“We’re only helping this once. We put our effort into it out of pity for a sacred sword that had lost its master.”

“Yes, I’m grateful for that.”

“And from now on, carry the sword yourself. We’ve made sure the one who’s now the Demon King can’t summon it anymore.”

The dwarf’s eyes brimmed with both rage and sorrow.

“I pray such a tragedy never happens again, Saintess.”

Though his words were tinged with a hope to avoid repeating the same mistakes, Tia only bowed her head slightly in solemn acknowledgment.

Clack.

The dwarves opened the lid of the wooden crate. Inside was the sacred sword—Excalbren.

“T-that’s…!”

“The Holy Sword?!”

The crowd gasped as the radiant golden blade rose on its own.

“Her Majesty has obtained the Holy Sword…!”

The legend of the Hero had been closely tied to the mythical weapon. Now that it was in Tia’s hands, it was no surprise that Ezer’s people looked upon her with renewed hope.

Of course, Excalbren was still a weapon once wielded by a Hero now branded a traitor to humanity. Some might have found it ominous.

But no such reaction came.

Maybe because it already feels like it belongs to me…

Tia couldn’t even muster a bitter laugh as she stepped forward toward Excalbren.

“Excalbren.”

At her call, the sword floated gently toward her.

Though not drastically different from its original form, it had been refashioned to suit her: shorter blade, lighter weight—customized in full.

『Tia de Mezelef.』

Excalbren spoke.

『Are you prepared for resonance?』

Resonance—the process of aligning one's divine power with the sword's to wield it freely.

Despite its new form, all its systems were originally tailored to Clay.

“I am.”

Tia reached out her hand.

“Please lend me your strength as well.”

『Permission granted.』

The sword moved toward her hand.

『May you guide light tainted by darkness into eternal rest.』

Clack!

The moment she gripped Excalbren, a blinding flash exploded in all directions.

“Ahh!”

“My eyes…!”

The crowd screamed and covered their eyes from the light.

Only Tia stared into it without turning away.

Her gaze remained locked on the radiance pouring from Excalbren.

Eyes unflinching.

Yet even she couldn’t help but furrow her brow.

『Endure it.』

As the resonance began, a tremendous pain surged through her.

『I will endure it too.』

It hurt.

But not just because of the physical agony.

Clay.

The lingering traces of him within Excalbren were fading—its flow of power being restructured to match her instead.

I’ll set aside this regret for now.

His lingering presence wasn’t what mattered.

As long as you’re there at the end, that’s enough.

If Clay himself could return to her side, then all of this wouldn’t matter.

“!”

A jolt like a dagger through her heart made her flinch. Waves of light rippled outward several times.

The crowd stumbled backward under the pressure.

FWOOOSH!

Then the scattered light drew back in, condensing into the blade, now glowing bright and intact.

“Haa… Haa…”

Tia trembled as she gasped for breath. But even in that state, she did not let go of the sword.

As the crowd began to uncover their eyes and regain sight, they took in her figure once more.

“That’s…”

“The Saintess…”

Two radiant golden wings had emerged behind her.

Having completed the resonance, she now looked just as awe-inspiring as the sword itself.

『Indeed.』

Excalbren let out something like a sigh.

『A manifestation befitting sanctity.』

Even the Holy Sword itself had acknowledged the result.

It’s done, then.

But no one else present realized the truth.

Now…

What she had done was not a simple resonance.

『!』

Excalbren, as if sensing something, tried to speak.

But it was immediately silenced.

Not even a word allowed.

By force.

Step.

She turned and raised the Holy Sword—not for the cheering crowd—

But for one man alone.

(End of Chapter)

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