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A cracking sound pierced the air as though space itself had fractured.

“Uoooohhhhhhhhhh!!!”

With a roar so malevolent it shook my soul to its core, Igoronak stood upright, raising his single arm. In an instant, the gravity field created by my “Moonfall” spell, which had barely managed to hold him in check, was shattered from within.

“Kyaaaahhh!!”

The backlash from the spell being broken—what’s often called “reverse wind” in terms of hexes—sent me hurtling backward. In that instant, Luke caught me in his arms.

“Ugh—!”

Unable to keep his balance, he nearly toppled over with me, but Vier braced herself and stopped us both from rolling away like a bowling ball.

“Thank you, Luke, Vier.”
“No problem… wait, Jill, you’re bleeding!”

As soon as he said it, I noticed the warm, slippery sensation trailing down my cheek wasn’t sweat but blood, trickling from near my temple.

“It’s just the backlash from the spell. It’ll heal if I put saliva on it,” I replied, wiping it away with the back of my hand and managing a defiant grin. Honestly, getting off this lightly was sheer luck—I could have easily been killed.

“That’s reckless…! Wait, Jill—don’t tell me, you can’t use any more healing magic right now, can you?!”

I couldn’t help but smile at Luke’s sharp insight, even as worry shadowed his face.

“You have to run! I’ll buy you as much time as I can. If you ride with Vier, you’ll get far enough away—”

I gently placed a finger on Luke’s lips to silence him, feeling a faint tremor beneath my fingertip.

It was natural for him to tremble. Even for me, standing in the presence of Igoronak, the No-Life King, was enough to make me feel like vomiting from sheer stress. Imagine the terror it would instill in a thirteen-year-old boy. Yet, there he was, refusing to flee and willing to hold the line to give me a chance to escape. In my eyes, that bravery shone as brightly as any hero’s.

And at that moment, I understood. A true ‘hero’ isn’t defined by wielding extraordinary powers or being chosen by a holy sword. It’s someone who stands firm in the face of fear, never giving in, even when all seems lost.

The darkness of despair clouding my heart lifted, and I pressed my knees to the ground, pushing myself to stand tall.

“Don’t say such cold-hearted things. Besides, even if I managed to escape by sacrificing you, do you really think I’d be satisfied with that? Could you bear it if the roles were reversed?”

Luke’s face twisted as though he were suppressing some inner pain. “But even so… I just want you to survive, Jill.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but it looks like we’re out of time.”

Following my gaze, Luke and the others turned sharply, looking down into the crater with alarmed expressions.

“…The charade is over. In return for the entertainment you’ve given me, I’ll rip off your limbs and hang you as ornaments in my lair, Saintess.”

With a grinding voice like stone, Igoronak declared his intention, his eyes gleaming with a sickly smile. He took a step forward—

“Hm?”

Suddenly, he paused, his expression shifting to one of surprise as he looked down at his feet.

♦♢♦♢

As Jill and Luke exchanged what could only be described as cringe-inducing sweet nothings, Cestlavie watched them with a deep frown.

“What’s wrong? Jealous, are you?” teased Lieselotte, with a knowing smirk. “If you don’t jump in and take Jill’s hand now, it may be too late.”

Cestlavie scoffed, giving a mocking smile. “Ridiculous. They’ve recklessly thrown themselves into the curse field of the No-Life King. At this point, with seconds left on the clock, there’s no time for romantic nonsense.”

“Sometimes, it’s precisely at the brink of death that the drive to survive… or even to, say, leave something behind, emerges,” Lieselotte replied with a wry grin. “Truth be told, I can’t help but think of someone dear to me who’s far away.”

Despite her composed demeanor, cold sweat dripped down Lieselotte’s back as she trembled slightly. It was the same for the others. Their faces betrayed the inner turmoil of small boats caught in a storm.

“That makes Jill seem lucky, doesn’t it? If only… if only we could at least save those two,” Viola said, offering a smile that belied the pained look she sent in Jill and Luke’s direction.

Cestlavie, observing all this with an expression that screamed baffled and annoyed, drew Lieselotte’s attention. Seeking to distract herself, she shrugged lightly and spoke.

“Not happy about it?”
“It’s just foolish. Devotion might sound noble, but in the end, they’re saving no one. It’s just self-indulgence. If I were them, I’d take the chance to escape while I could. Anything is better than going down together. Really, what a waste.”

Lieselotte and Viola exchanged glances, then both gave an understanding, motherly smile—as if they were humoring a child who simply didn’t understand. Cestlavie noticed, and interpreting it as an insult, glared at them with a sharp, thorny gaze.

“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, nothing funny at all. In fact, your opinion is perfectly reasonable,” Viola replied. “But…”
“But what?”
“I just realized… you’ve never truly loved anyone, have you?”
“Huh?”

“You’ve never felt like that one person is everything to you, so much so that a world without them is unimaginable,” Viola said, gazing at Cestlavie with a look of deep pity and sorrow. Beside her, Lieselotte nodded in agreement.

For a moment, something about their words struck a chord, but Cestlavie quickly brushed it off, denying their sentiment outright.

“Ridiculous. The most important thing to any living being is themselves. Indulging in fantasies like, ‘You’re my sun, my moon, my everything,’ is nothing but a temporary lapse in sanity.”

At his blunt response, Lieselotte met his gaze with sincerity.

“Perhaps it is a fantasy… but living in that fantasy is what makes us human, wouldn’t you say? To deny that feels rather hollow. And, for the record, someone truly precious isn’t ‘everything.’ They’re what lies beyond this world.”
“…I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“I expected as much. I suppose I can’t put this feeling into words very well, either.”

Lieselotte shook her head with a gentle smile, as though explaining something to a stubborn younger brother. Cestlavie, unwilling to engage further, averted his gaze, his face set in a hardened expression as he stared resolutely ahead, as if to block out the surrounding noise.

♦♢♦♢

Igoronak, now free, suddenly froze in place.

Curious, I looked closer and noticed that the ground, hardened under the high gravity field, had shattered into fine particles. Due to the terrain, these particles had formed a sudden quicksand-like pit right at the base, trapping Igoronak up to his knees.

“Hmph… a mere inconvenience.”

For Igoronak, who could levitate, it should have been meaningless.

Just as he prepared to leap from his position, now buried up to his waist, a small figure that had somehow sneaked up on him grappled him from behind, holding him down.

“Well done, Clara! The preparations are complete! Dimension-Shattering Bomb is Active… Igoronak, this is where it all ends—you shall die here with me!”

The petite maid with crimson hair—actually the alchemist Dr. Victor’s duplicate personality within the artificial body of Coppelia—spoke without the slightest hesitation as she tightened her grip even further.

“Victor’s puppet…? You insignificant toy!”

Igoronak moved to throw her off, but before he could, Coppelia’s chest split open like a pair of hinged doors, revealing golden rib-like structures. They sprang forth, clamping down on Igoronak like a bear trap.

“Grr…Orichalcum?!”

At his irritated growl, I recalled a conversation I had when I first met Coppelia.

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“GRUUUAAAAAAAHHH!!!”

Using the last of my mana, I increased gravity a hundredfold. It sounds simple enough, but if Igoronak weighs around seventy kilogura, that would mean a force of seven thousand kilogura—equivalent to seven tores—is pressing down on him.

Any large beast would be crushed like a cracker under this pressure. Even though Igoronak is within a gravity field of over five mertes in radius, trapped at the bottom of a hardened, concave pit with both hands and knees planted on the ground, he’s still managing to scream. Such is the power of the No-Life King. But he’s clearly struggling to hold his posture, barely maintaining it.

Seeing this fierce, handsome figure crawling and groaning… I can’t help feeling a strange mix of guilt and a tantalizing, forbidden thrill. It stirs something deep within, a voice in my mind whispering in a euphoric tone, “Come on, you wretched swine, lick my boots!” I push away this bizarre impulse with great effort, refocusing all my attention on maintaining the spell’s control.

“Damn you! Damn you!” Igoronak growls through bloodshot eyes, desperately trying to resist.

“It’s working… but this isn’t enough,” I admit, frustrated. I had hoped this would end things, but it’s clear the spell isn’t as effective as I’d thought. If we keep playing this waiting game, my magic will definitely run out before his strength does. I expected a power gap, but realizing that my trump card can’t guarantee victory—well, it’s pretty demoralizing.

This Moonfall spell, while of my own design, is potent enough to rival strategic-class magic, meant to counter armies or even besiege fortresses. But apparently, it’s still no match for an opponent of this caliber.

Feeling the weight of disappointment, I bit down hard on my lip.

The power of a single being surpassing that of entire armies or fortresses—it sounds absurd, but the reality of this world is that such monstrous beings exist. It’s irrational, but I have to accept it.

In fact, the last time I used this spell on Headmistress Mei, even though I wasn’t using it at full force, I increased the gravity tenfold. All she said was, “Oh, now that’s impressive!” as she effortlessly counterattacked. At the time, I honestly wondered, ‘Is she even human?! Is she part of some warrior race that works for intergalactic property developers?!’

That encounter really opened my eyes, making me realize how naive I was. It made me think: if I ever had to fight someone of her level at full strength, what would I do? Considering that possibility, I developed Moonfall, a hundredfold gravity spell, as a potential countermeasure.

It’s certainly better than charging empty-handed and unprepared. Yet, the result speaks for itself—my outlook was still far too optimistic.

“…Grrr… I didn’t expect you could wield Sky magic… but you’re overextending yourself, aren’t you?”

Sweat poured from my brow in thick beads, and I felt the blood draining from my face. Igoronak smirked, his eyes mocking me. He knows exactly where this tug-of-war is headed.

I don’t respond. Not because I don’t want to—but because I don’t have the strength.

Sky magic is notoriously difficult to control, and if it goes awry, the damage can far exceed that of the four elemental magics—earth, water, fire, and wind. That’s why the Mage Guild and magic academies officially list it as a Forbidden Art, forbidding research and development of offensive Sky magic.

Even Moonfall, which I originally designed as a weight-reduction Art, has clearly shown its capability as a destructive spell. Its potential for danger speaks for itself.

By the way, the only place you can actually study Sky magic is the Artisan Guild, but even there, it’s exclusively used to create Spatial Storage Bags; they don’t teach any offensive applications.

Honestly, it’s far more practical to develop and research attack magic based on the four elements, as those magics have a much larger user base and a wider range of variations. Plus, if you produce and sell Spatial Storage Bags, even though the materials are rare and you need a substantial amount of magic crystals, a single bag that holds around fifty kilogura is worth as much as a house with a garden in the upper districts of the capital. It makes sense to pursue a stable source of income like that.

As for my spatial magic, after learning only the absolute basics from Regina, I had no one to guide me. Everything I know was developed through my own trial and error, meaning there’s probably quite a bit of inefficiency and recklessness involved. It’s clear as day that any minor slip-up would immediately lead to a loss of control, so I can’t afford to let my guard down here.

And, though this is unrelated, I can make a Spatial Storage Bag myself by mimicking what I observed. However, as an independent mage, making and selling them outside of the Artisan Guild is a mess due to issues like encroaching on established rights and disturbing the market. So instead of selling them, I’ve only given them as gifts to close friends—like the elves who need to transport large amounts of wine and maple syrup, or Bruno and Lynn, who use them to carry gear and spoils as adventurers.

In any case, having at least managed to fulfill my primary goal of “stalling Igoronak,” I called out desperately to Coppelia, who stood behind me, without even having the luxury of looking back.

“Coppelia! How much longer do I need to hold him off?!”

Once I release the spell, I need to get at least five hundred mertes away as fast as possible, or else I’ll be caught in the range of Coppelia’s Ultimate Arcane Armament. I’m planning to have Vier carry me since I doubt I can make it on foot in time, but just then, I hear Coppelia’s flat voice respond.

“—System error detected. Access denied… due to administrator privileges.”
“…”

Barely managing to stay upright as I struggle to accept reality, I reluctantly turn my head and spot Coppelia, eyes spiraling, still reeling from the shockwave of magic that just hit her.

“—Y-, you… useless pile of scrap!!”

My somewhat unrefined shout is surely justified rage, something anyone would agree with in this situation.

“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted her, I knew it! …This is why they say a fool is more dangerous than a fire next door!”

No amount of crying or cursing will turn back the clock now.

And just then—

Maybe due to my mental strain or from using magic for so long, my mana is finally starting to run out, and I can see the gravitational field weakening right before my eyes.

“……”

Igoronak, who was previously groaning in pain, has fallen silent. I can’t be sure, but it looks like he’s slowly starting to raise himself up, bit by bit.

I’m running on empty. I’ve used every card I have. And my last resort is nothing but a pile of junk.

“…It’s over.” With the final piece of bad luck completing my hand, I genuinely felt the darkness close in before my eyes.

I was about to give up and lay down my wand, maybe even recite a few parting words when—

“Sixty degrees, left overhead—CHOP!”

Suddenly, a small figure came bursting out from the forest—Eren, wearing the same casual outfit she had on when we split up. She charged in and, without missing a beat, delivered a karate chop to Coppelia’s head.

With a loud crack, Coppelia’s neck twisted at an odd angle, but she blinked, looking startled, and with a quick “—Huh?” grabbed her head with both hands to wrench it back into place.

“Where… am I?”
“Talk later! Just get back to work! You dumb maid—no, let’s shorten that to Dummaid!”

Eren’s blunt encouragement seemed to bring her back to her senses, and Coppelia suddenly remembered her task.

“Ohhhhh, that’s right!”

She quickly turned to face Igoronak, who was still struggling to break free from Moonfall.

Fortunately, the gravitational field was barely holding Igoronak down, but who knew how much longer it would last?

“Eren, why are you here?!”
“Of course, to save you, Lady Jill!”

Her prompt reply was reassuring, but I couldn’t help but wonder just how she managed to escape from her cocoon state or why Luke didn’t try to stop her.

Just then, Luke arrived, breathing heavily, a little behind Eren.

“Haah, haah… I’m so sorry, Jill. She cut herself free from the rope with a hidden knife, and when I tried to stop her, she declared, ‘If you try to stop me, I’ll slit my throat and die right here!’ so I couldn’t do anything.”

Luke mumbled his explanation, genuinely apologetic, while Eren stood proudly, showing no sign of remorse.

“—That’s Jill?”
“What? You’re not Lady Clara, but Jill?!”
“So it is true. I thought I sensed a similar smell.”

Following that, Cestlavie, Lieselotte, and Viola emerged, chiming in with their thoughts.

“Wh-, why…??”

Caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, I flapped my mouth like a suffocating goldfish before finally managing to squeeze out a response. Lieselotte shrugged lightly, glancing between Luke and Eren as she answered.

“Even if you ask why, it’s simple. The maid, who was supposed to be with you, and young Lord Lucas both rushed into the forest looking pale, so I thought I’d follow them…”

She paused, genuinely surprised.

“…I’m astonished.”

Lieselotte seemed genuinely amazed, while Viola wore an oddly pleased expression (the look of a pickup artist in front of an exceptionally beautiful girl). Meanwhile, Cestlavie regarded me with an oddly cold and calculating gaze.

I quickly recited my prepared excuse.

“Wh-, what are you talking about? As you can see, I’m just an ordinary exorcist who happens to pass by.”

I averted my gaze, trying not to meet their eyes, pretending to whistle a tune that I couldn’t actually produce (I could do it in my past life, but for some reason, I couldn’t in this one).

“…”

The three of them fell silent in response to my perfect rebuttal, exchanging looks before shrugging simultaneously.

“That’s Jill alright.”
“She has to be Jill.”
“To suggest that this is Lady Clara is blasphemy.”

How did they see it through that fast?!

When I glanced over, Luke and Eren—along with, it seemed, even Vier—wore troubled expressions, their shoulders sagging.

And yet, Coppelia was counting down right beside me, and we really didn’t have time to argue near this explosive center!

In a moment of panic and confusion, I finally lost my focus, and the spell was broken.

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“To expose this hideous, vile form before you, Saintess…” Igoronak muttered, clearly dissatisfied with his current appearance, his teeth grinding together.

“I think you’re actually pretty handsome.”
“Spare me your flattery. Surely, you’re disgusted by this twisted, repulsive form. Or perhaps you’d rather laugh? Very well, I’ll admit it—there’s no chance I could ever rise to stand beside you now. But precisely because of that, I shall drag you down into the same abyss as me!”

“… (Sigh)” I couldn’t help but sigh.

Why are people who reach their own conclusions so exhausting?

“Oh, come off it! If that is what you call ugly, then most of the world’s men are plainly hideous!” Coppelia grumbled, her teeth grinding in frustration.

I couldn’t agree more. When someone can’t accept themselves, they can’t accept others as well. No matter how high their looks score might be, I can’t tolerate people this small-minded (…though I admit there are some parts of this that hit a little too close to home, which makes me both self-critical and annoyed). It’s just too off-putting.

“For crying out loud, you’re actually quite small (minded).”

“—” The second I let that slip, Igoronak froze, as if stunned.

“Awooooo! (Master, can I bite him?)” Vier’s mournful howl echoed through the night as she looked to me for instructions in the sudden silence.

“Yeah… I mean, getting called ‘small’ by a woman… even I would feel a little sorry for him,” Coppelia muttered, giving Igoronak a sympathetic glance.

With bloodshot eyes, Igoronak erupted in fury and bellowed, “You shall taste my wrath! Witness, my Enmity and Malice¹ — Wailing Dark Hole!”

A dark orb began to form in front of him, swirling with ominous energy.

“What, you are snapping back? This is why spoiled elites who have never faced failure are so unbearable…!” Coppelia’s relentless taunts carried on even at this critical moment, but I could feel a growing sense of dread within me.

(This… this might be bad…)

With the sudden shift in tension and the sheer amount of energy he was releasing—far beyond any of his previous attacks—I wasn’t sure even this shield (Bartholomew) would be able to withstand it.

“Fine, so be it! A woman needs courage, and a man needs whimsy! —Haaaaaa!”
“Hmph!”

As I let out a battle cry, Igoronak’s Wailing Dark Hole clashed head-on with Bartholomew whom I had launched using non-elemental magic. For an instant, Bartholomew’s once-dazed eyes seemed to spark back to life, and his massive obsidian halberd swung forth, seeming to cleave through the approaching darkness. Then, in that same breath, an overwhelming blast of magical energy surged, lacking sound, light, or shockwaves but nonetheless powerful enough to send me reeling. I instinctively clamped my eyes shut, covered my ears, and threw myself to the ground.

“Kyaaaaaaa!”
“Nyo-ga-ga-ga… unable to measure…! Error! Error!”
“Guh…”

It felt like an eternity, but it was likely only an instant.

As I cautiously raised my head, I found… nothing. The Wailing Dark Hole and Bartholomew were both gone, as if they had evaporated into thin air.

No way—could it be…?!

In that instant, as all the blood drained from my face, I heard a faint splash, followed by:

“Gaaaah! My feet… my feet cannot touch the bottom!!”

That aggravating voice carried by the wind spirit from the direction of Lake Quartz brought a sense of relief, and my shoulders relaxed all at once.

“Hmph… You seem to have managed to avoid that, but you’re out of defenses now, aren’t you? The next move will finish this.”

It appeared Igoronak had also regained his composure, as his left hand was now wrapped in that familiar black flame.

Perhaps he decided there was no need for another Wailing Dark Hole, or maybe he simply lacked the strength for it. I could only hope it was the latter, but it was hard to tell.

“Yes, that’s right. The next move will decide it.”
“Oh? Resigned yourself, have you? You give up rather easily, don’t you?”

In response, I opened my hand and showed him what I held. A small, black crystal, about the size of a coin, sat in my palm. It was a magic stone, refined from a B-rank monster’s magic stone and further purified. With a dozen of these, one could power a magic-powered ship for an entire journey.

“And what of it…?” Igoronak’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Indeed, while this was rare and valuable, it wasn’t one-of-a-kind, nor could it be consumed directly by humans to wield its power. Normally, it wouldn’t warrant any concern—under normal circumstances, that is.

“You can’t tell? This magic stone has been specially processed, with talisman art etched onto its surface.”

In this dim light, it was unclear whether he could make out the intricate symbols carved onto the stone’s surface, but I traced them with my fingertip, deliberately showing them to him.

“Talisman, you say? Ah, now that you mention it, one of those pesky insects who dared to oppose me used something like that… And? What of it?” Igoronak said arrogantly, raising his shoulders as if to suggest he had already seen through my trick.

“Oh, is that so? Well, this is actually based on a set of predetermined formulas inscribed onto a talisman. By flowing the specified activation incantation and magic power into it, it automatically reacts with the surrounding mana to produce the phenomenon known as ‘magic.’ Its potency, however, is limited to the brief moment before the talisman burns out and is proportional to the ambient mana.”

“I have assumed so, yes… So, you’re giving me a lecture on magic? Do you realize that you are basically preaching a sermon to a Saint? Wait, no, I guess you’re the Saintess here.”

“But you see, I fiddled around and instead used a higher-purity magic stone for the material.”

In truth, I had learned this technique from Cestlavie, who taught me to mix magic stone powder into ink to write spells on paper. My own magic power was often too intense, burning the talisman out before it could activate. So, I developed a way to reinforce the base material.

“It’s meaningless,” Igoronak replied, his tone dripping with disdain. “Even if you change the base material, it still relies on ambient mana. Altering the spark plug doesn’t change the fuel; the result remains the same.”

As expected of the so-called No-Life King, he quickly pinpointed the flaw.

“Exactly. It couldn’t increase the spell’s power. But instead, it greatly extended its duration.”

“Hm…” A faint flicker of interest and caution crossed Igoronak’s face.

“Talisman Art on its own only produces a uniform effect. However, by extending the activation time, I can combine multiple magic stones into one spell, allowing me to imitate a ritual spell typically performed by multiple people.”

“Huh…” This time, Igoronak’s expression turned visibly wary as he shifted his stance, but it was already too late.

“As a result, large-scale magic, which usually requires thorough preparation and a great deal of time, now can be performed all by myself… Perhaps you noticed how I’ve been moving in a circular path around you? And I’ve been embedding activated magic stones, like this one, into the ground at key points.”

“What!?” In a sudden realization, Igoronak’s eyes darted to the ground around him. I poured magic into the final shard in my hand and struck it into the ground at my feet.

If there had been a mage viewing from above, they would have seen the embedded crystals forming a six-pointed star with Igoronak at its center.

Raising my wand , I channeled all my remaining magic and released it.

“The stage is set! This is my trump card, a forbidden spatial spell—「I call upon you, Gods of Earth and Gods of Sky, let your Yoke be his Commandment!」 —「Lunatic Compression (Moonfall)」”

In that instant, an intense gravitational force, a hundred times the normal, crashed down on Igoronak.

“GRUAAAAAAAAGH!!!”

Unable to move, he roared in helpless fury.

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Sixty seconds, one full minute. It sounds short, yet it’s a long stretch of time.

A boxing round lasts three minutes, while an amateur Muay Thai round lasts only two. There’s plenty of time to move around and attack, so the task of keeping Igoronak pinned in the same spot for an entire minute is a daunting challenge indeed.

Trying to catch him off guard and stop his movements with another Ultimate Attack — Jet-Black Dark Meteorite (aka Bartholomew drop) would likely be futile. He wouldn’t fall for the same trick twice, and, worse still, there’s the risk of dragging Bartholomew into the blast of the so-called Ultimate Arcane Armament. In this case, it’s the kind of “don’t mix these two things” danger, because although Bartholomew might return as if nothing happened, I’d been warned about potential risks.

“I cannot predict what might happen if something weird gets in the mix. We would be lucky if it just ends up with an uncontrolled explosion that takes out the entire region. However, there is a chance that we could see the very fabric of space collapsing like dominoes, which could spell the end of the world,” explained Coppelia, with a knowing smirk. “Well, as long as I can take Igor down with me, I am not too concerned about what happens after that.”

So that idea was scrapped. I’m not so reckless as to gamble the fate of my life and the whole world on a shot in the dark. That leaves me with the only option of overpowering Igoronak and forcing him into a prolonged kneeling position for a solid minute…

I reconfirmed the conditions.

“By the way, regarding the activation requirements for this Ultimate Arcane Armament of yours, is there anything beyond keeping him immobilized for a set amount of time that I should be concerned about? For instance, could interference from the four major elemental magic domains—Earth, Water, Fire, and Wind—cause any adverse effects if used to restrain him, or if there’s a sudden shift in the ambient mana?”
“None at all. This weapon operates completely independently on my—Coppelia’s internal mana engine, so you do not need to worry about those kinds of conditions.”
“One more thing, would there be any issues if I used the ‘……’?”

At this point, I had every intention of going all out with my hidden moves. I’d openly revealed a trick I hadn’t shown anyone except the headmistress. However, from what Coppelia explained, this technique might interfere directly with her ultimate weapon.

Coppelia stroked her chin thoughtfully, her expression serious.

“Hm… it would likely have some impact. That said, it is not a physical entity, and as long as the effect is continuous, I could probably fine-tune it accordingly… It may require us to extend the immobilization period somewhat—say, to about a minute and twenty-five to thirty-nine seconds.”

With that, the difficulty shot up by one and a half times, but given the tightrope we’d be walking, I figured it was within acceptable bounds.

“Understood. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Igoronak restrained, so please make sure the weapon is ready to fire during that window.”
“Indeed. Also, remember that this Ultimate Arcane Armament is a one-shot deal. If we fail, there is no second chance.”
“It’s the same for me. I’ll be using up all my cards for the setup, and nearly all the mana I’ve stored for this one strike.”

This isn’t so much a plan as it is a reckless gamble.

Honestly… Why did a trip meant to be a casual study and sightseeing tour turn into a life-or-death struggle for our lives—and the fate of the world? I have a sneaking suspicion it’s all due to some fallout from the Saintess and my mother, but lamenting my unfortunate birth won’t solve anything right now. Surviving this crisis is the priority.

“「O Prison of Ice, engulf all into your frozen wasteland」 — 「Freeze」” For now, I launch a quick preemptive strike at the advancing Igoronak.

“Hmph…”

With a simple stomp, he shatters the frozen ground under his feet and keeps advancing. As expected, it barely slows him down.

“Grrrr!!” At that moment, Vier swoops in from above, taking advantage of her wings to launch a three-dimensional maneuver attack.

“Tch… Annoying little flying pest.”

Igoronak lashes out with his left hand, extending his claws in a slicing motion, trying to swat Vier away. But he can’t keep up with her movements, and most of his strikes miss, landing on the trees and causing further destruction to the forest.

Using this golden opportunity, I summon my shield (Bartholomew) with non-elemental magic, and while moving counterclockwise, I make sure to release bursts of Purify spells

“Megiddo.” Igoronak wields the black flames like a whip, aiming to close in on Vier as she presses her attack, while also retaliating against me as I try to keep my distance.

Given what I’ve observed so far, it seems Igoronak relies on his immense magical power, deeming defense unnecessary. His physical movements are amateurish, revealing many openings. I pinpointed this as his weak spot and discreetly started preparing.

“Woof!”

With a fierce roar, Vier blasts away the tip of Igoronak’s black flame whip. She leaps, and in a brief clash, she either bites or slashes at Igoronak’s hood, pulling it off before quickly retreating to face him again.

Meanwhile, the remaining part of the black flame coming my way dissipates harmlessly against Bartholomew’s armor.

“Grrrrr… I underestimated you all, assuming you were mere pests. Now, I must expose my hideous face, tainted by darkness,” Igoronak growls, covering his now-exposed face with his sleeve. Then, with a tone full of contempt, he removes his hand and raises his head.

“Oh my, it is as awful as you say!” Coppelia beams with delight, her eyes sparkling. “Kahaha! You have revealed your true form, have you not, Igor? So, in exchange for becoming the No-Life King, you have lost your proud face! Serves you right, you puffed-up monster! … Ugh, blast it, it is too dark to see anything. Hey, Clara! Shine some light, would you? I will never rest in peace without seeing just how hideous he has become!”

As I reluctantly oblige, I can’t help but think how childish this “adult” can be. I conjure a single orb of light and direct it towards Igoronak.

“You’re an Automaton, why aren’t you equipped with night vision or something? Funny how human-like you are in all the inconvenient ways… 「Let light illuminate this hand of mine.」— 「Light」.”

The glowing orb hovers near Igoronak, casting a stark white light and revealing the hideous face that he’d kept hidden until now.

“Hmph…” Igoronak frowned in displeasure.

As the No-Life King, his face must have been tainted by darkness and miasma… I watched with a bit of a horror-movie thrill.

He stood about 190 centimerte tall, appearing to be in his prime. None of the features I remembered from his portraits—the chestnut hair, the calm eyes, the intelligent face—remained. His hair, now a pitch-black tangle, hung unkempt and wild, while a dark beard covered his chin and mouth.

His double-lidded, narrow eyes, with irises dark as night, glinted coldly beneath strong, well-shaped brows. His face had a sharp, aquiline nose and a firm jawline, all with a gaunt, life-drained look typical of someone who’d lived in a harsh world. This change from his former elegance had lent him an untamed, raw masculinity.

To sum it up in one word:

“Wow, so cool. If I had to describe it… I’d say it’s like an untamed beast of a man hiding behind a cold demeanor.” He was strikingly handsome.

“Do not be fooled!” Coppelia yelled, shaking me by the shoulders, clearly upset that I’d been momentarily taken by this rugged figure. “That guy has a rotten personality, I guarantee it!”

Men can be so petty, can’t they? Then again, they say people with difficult personalities often get the job done.

Author’s Note:

Igoronak’s face is based on King Kashue from Record of Lodoss War

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“Charge! Follow Lady Clara’s lead!”

Right on cue, the adventurers, soldiers, exorcists, and instructors unleashed their assault. Enhanced swords and spears, arrows infused with elemental magic, throwing knives—all hurled forward. Lightning crackled, beams of light shot forward, wind blades, fireballs, and ice shards—an overwhelming barrage.

“Physical attacks alone will not do much good,” Coppelia muttered with disdain, standing beside me as we both withdrew to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. She squinted at the flashes of light, explosions, and the dust cloud that obscured Igoronak.

“So, it’s still up to my purification spells to break through. Though it feels like a perilous gamble to take him on alone.”

Somewhat to my surprise, Coppelia nodded thoughtfully at my admission, uncharacteristically agreeing with me.

“Indeed. Even with your inhuman abilities, the enemy is a genuine monster whose core has partially shifted from the physical to the astral plane. It’s no surprise this is such a struggle.”

It’s good that she’s being understanding, though did she just imply that I’m a bit of a monster too?

“But even if the standard four elemental magics—Earth, Water, Fire, and Wind—are ineffective, the higher-tier magics of Sky and Will can still work wonders, even against spiritual or incorporeal foes!”

Incidentally, the healing magic I use is considered a branch of Will, and my usual Close spell falls under the Sky tree.

“Sky, you say? Well, I can use it to some extent, but I haven’t learned any offensive magic under that domain.”

Or rather, Sky-related attack spells are classified as forbidden arts, accessible only to top experts in magic, priests versed in ancient magic, or the highest levels of the military. Ordinary folks like me wouldn’t even have the chance to study them.

“I have!—Well, to be precise, that is the one and only weapon this body is equipped with, held in reserve for just such an occasion!”

Coppelia puffed up her chest proudly. Rocket punches don’t count as weapons?

“Keh keh keh! Just you watch, Igor! For stealing my research, murdering me, and parading your endless parade of women before my eyes—I’ll finally exact my revenge!” And there it is. A slip of pure motive. “Once I unleash this Ultimate Arcane Armament, an area with a one-kilomerte radius will be completely swallowed into the void! Nothing can survive. I guarantee it!”

“Don’t use such a dangerous weapon here!!”

I retorted immediately, and Coppelia crossed her arms, nodding thoughtfully.

“Indeed. To use it, I’d need to hold him in place for at least a minute and specify the exact coordinates. Even if I wanted to use it, I couldn’t. You see, the original intent of the device was to bring two-dimensional waifus into three-dimensional reality, but somehow it turned into a weapon.”
“Too much information! Anyway, I’ll lure Igoronak away from here to a secluded area, and once there, I’ll do whatever it takes to immobilize him so you can deploy your secret weapon.”

Before I’d even finished speaking, Igoronak’s eyes flashed ominously, and adventurers and soldiers caught in his gaze crumpled lifelessly to the ground, one after another.

“—ugh!”

I felt a moment of chill, but thanks to the protection of the Robe of Sant’Angelo, I was able to evade quickly without taking much damage.

“Napalm!”

Though I already knew it wouldn’t be effective, I unleashed a barrage of Napalm spells to serve as both a distraction and a blazing spectacle, drawing his attention as Coppelia and I slipped from the church grounds into the forest.

“Hmm… planning something, are you? But in your current state, what could you possibly achieve?”

Igoronak advanced with ease, moving as fast—if not faster—than me, though whether he was walking or floating beneath his dark robes, I couldn’t tell.

“Napalm, Napalm, Napalm, Napalm, Purify!”
“Megiddo!”

Igoronak ignored the incoming Napalms, charging forward with an air of indifference. When I mixed a Purify spell into the attack, he conjured a black flame in his left hand and countered, causing both flames to cancel each other out.

“Megiddo!”
“Watch out, dodge it!”

Just as Igoronak launched a stream of black fire at us like a flamethrower, Coppelia shouted her warning. I immediately dove into the underbrush, and the black flames passed overhead, leaving the trees in their path to rot instantly, snapping like twigs and disintegrating into dust before hitting the ground.

“You won’t escape… Megiddo!”
“Gah!?”

Thanks to the thick layer of fallen leaves, I managed to avoid injury, but Igoronak continued his attack, scattering the black flames like water from a watering can.

There’s no way to dodge this!

As I scrambled through the forest with Coppelia, Igor’s voice rang out again.

“This ends now… Megiddo!”

A massive wave of black fire surged, blanketing the area, and when the flames cleared, the once-verdant landscape was now a lifeless wasteland, devoid of any sign of life.

“…Is it over? A bit underwhelming, but…”

He muttered as he turned his back, certain that no one could have survived. And that’s when I took my chance, striking at his unguarded back.

“Purify!”

I unleashed a concentrated blast of purification, hitting him dead on.

“Gwaaaaaaah!”

Igoronak let out a scream of pain, clearly shaken by the blow. He quickly pinpointed my location from the trajectory and launched another wave of black fire.

“Megiddo!”

But—

“That won’t work! Purify!”

I held up a sturdy shield and saw his black flames disperse uselessly against it. My counterattack, the Purify, struck him again, causing Igoronak to stagger back.

“Im-, impossible. How can you…?”

His gaze narrowed as he peered through the darkness and caught sight of the shield I’d held up with non-elemental magic. He looked shocked.

“Go ahead. If you think you can break through this ridiculously tough shield, be my guest!”

Standing before him was the towering shield—the soul-less form of the gigantic Death Knight, Bartholomew. Igoronak stared at it, speechless.

“…Are you sure you’re still human, doing this?” muttered Coppelia, safely huddled behind me.

“There’s no time for sentimentalism in battle! If Bartholomew had any consciousness left, he’d no doubt be proud to serve as a warrior in this way!”
“Would he, though…?”

Coppelia tilted her head, and I could almost imagine Bartholomew looking somewhat reluctant. But that was probably just my imagination.

Translator’s Note:

I have a confession to make. We have been pretty inconsistent in how we translate 〈空〉magic domain. The kanji itself means empty, void, and sky, but the author treated it like it means space. Not outer space, but “space” as in time and space.

It took me an embarrassing amount of time to realize that Author just arbitrarily took the first kanji from space (空間) for it. Thing is, these two kanji are inseparable if you want to express “space”. It’s like trying to say Venus (金星) but only use the first kanji (金) which means money/friday.

So, yeah. If you would, please continue to treat the Sky magic domain as Space in this novel. Besides, the Will (識) magic tree never existed until this chapter. It was Illusionary (幻) before.

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(Hah…)

After smashing down a massive tree, with a trunk so thick that it would take two grown adults to wrap their arms around it, he finally came to a stop. Lying spread-eagle on the ground, he stared up at the night sky.

The trees of this forest, left unchecked, had grown wildly, and the dense branches hardly allowed any glimpse of the stars. Normally, the forest at night would be alive with the sounds of birds and beasts, but now, the only things filling the silence were the whispers of the wind. The commotion had either scared them far away or sent them hiding in their dens. Not a single animal cry could be heard.

Occasionally, the distant clash of swords and the battle cries of warriors full of spirit echoed through the air.

(Come to think of it, battle has always been by my side.)

As he gazed up at the sky, memories of his homeland stirred in his heart, bringing a wave of melancholy. Compared to the ceaseless conflicts of his homeland, the skirmishes here were mere child’s play—a kitten’s quarrel in comparison to those days of relentless war.

(No, a warrior must never underestimate a battle. To look down upon even the smallest of conflicts is the height of arrogance. This is still a battlefield, and no soldier should ever let their guard down on one!)

He chastised himself for his moment of carelessness. After all, that fragile girl he had begrudgingly accepted as his master—was she safe? She was but a frail human, after all.

His frustration grew as he glanced again at the sky.

Taking down someone as insignificant as their enemy should have been effortless for him. He could have annihilated them without leaving even a trace of their soul behind. In fact, his style was purely brute force—charging headlong and crushing his foes with overwhelming power. Tricks and cunning strategies were a bother, not to mention something he wasn’t capable of. For that reason, he had no choice but to stay here. It was frustrating, but a promise was a promise. There was no other option.

♦♢♦♢

“They say a fool is more frightening than a fire next door, but just look at this place—she hasn’t done any cleaning! What on earth has that damned ragweed been up to?”

Regina, seated comfortably in her favorite armchair with a cup of fragrant tea in hand, had all the windows of her hut flung wide open as her enchanted cleaning tools bustled around energetically. Meanwhile, her guard, Maya stood vigilantly at her feet as she relaxed, enjoying a moment of tea in the tiny, meticulously weeded garden outside.

Noticing Regina’s usual harsh language, he couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the absent girl and decided to defend her.

“Oh, come now, Madam Witch. Lady Jill does her fair share. Every six months, she maintains the protective wards, cleans up, and even speaks with the nearby villagers and elves to ensure the upkeep of this hut and the surrounding forest.”

Even if it wasn’t far, venturing into the Tenebrae Nemus along barely visible paths to reach this place wasn’t for the faint-hearted. Of course, he accompanied her as a guard on these trips, but for an ordinary villager, it would be a perilous journey.

Regina shot him a sharp glare, her golden eyes narrowing.

“You’re not completely blameless! Just look at this garden—and those bizarre plants she grew in the patch over there. I just saw one practically digesting a goblin whole!”

Ah, that explains why she’d used magic to torch the entire garden just moments ago. He nodded heavily, now understanding the situation. “Such is the law of the jungle. It is only natural.”

“As if! You blockhead! Dimwit! It’s because you’ve been wandering around here that the magic and spirit energy in this area has gone haywire! Are you trying to turn my garden into a dungeon?”
“Well, be that as it may, I’ve been entrusted with protecting this land. Thus, even with my official duties, I make time for patrols. I’d be remiss not to, and I don’t mind doing it.”

“Maybe you don’t mind, but I sure do, you empty-headed fool!” Regina snapped, her face scrunched up with frustration. “I don’t know what you find so endearing about that ragweed, but stop coddling her! She’s got plenty of burdens to carry, and if someone’s always helping her out, she’ll collapse under the weight when it’s finally time to stand on her own. Sometimes letting go is the best thing you can do.”

He watched her, a small smile playing at his lips as she snorted in irritation.

“A motherly sentiment, perhaps? Although I hear, Madam Witch, that you secretly look after Jill yourself—”
“Bah! Don’t you go making that ugly mug of yours look even uglier!”

Flying into a fit of anger, Regina’s enchanted broom and dustpan soared through the air, dumping a pile of collected debris over his head.

“In any case, it’s time you let her find her footing on her own! So no more meddling!”

♦♢♦♢

“That’s that, then. From now on, no unnecessary interference. —Well, that thing’s been weakened enough, so she should probably be fine.”
“However…”
“The girl may be straightforward, but there’s a strange distortion at her core. I think it’s largely due to her mother’s influence. So, whether she can overcome this will be a good test of her strength.”

He held back a rebuttal, suspecting that the burden might be too much for her. Instead, he lowered his head deeply, paying silent respect to his master, whom he’d unexpectedly encountered once more.

“…your wish is my command.”
“Alright, I’m counting on you, Houzuki.”

♦♢♦♢

When Igoronak swung his lone arm, the claws on his left hand extended, becoming as sharp as blades.

“Saintess, let me strip away your pretensions and reveal your truest—”
“「O celestial bell, send this impure soul back to the underworld with thine eternal melody」—「Purify」!”
“Grah!”

I interrupted him before he could finish his speech, striking him quickly with a purification spell.

“You insolent little—!”

Even after being seared by the golden flames, Igoronak looked surprisingly unaffected. As expected from the No-Life King. His resilience is a league above ordinary undead.

“Purify! Purify! Purify!”
“Graahh, guh, guooahh…!”

To settle things quickly, I fired multiple rounds of ‘Purify’ in rapid succession.

Earlier, while fighting the other undead, I used the Tiara of Starflower to expand the spell’s effective range, purging multiple targets at once. Although the dispersed effect reduced the impact on each individual, it was sufficient against low-level undead infested by Corpsegrass. But for this foe, I couldn’t afford to hold back. This time, I concentrated the spell’s power to focus solely on him, maximizing its potency.

According to Coppelia, even a Lich-class enemy would be nearly obliterated after being hit with two or three strikes. However…

“Enough already! Do you honestly think such weak attacks will harm me?”

So sneered Igoronak, though I could tell his black robes were fraying, and his body seemed to be taking more damage than he let on.

“It’s working, it’s working. Look at him; he’s definitely rattled,” Coppelia whispered to me. Still, how many more Purify spells will it take to land a critical hit? I have a feeling my mana will run out well before then.

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“…?”

Are adventurers usually so humble and reverent? I had imagined them as rough and uncouth, but here they seemed more like devout followers, awestruck by a divine miracle unfolding before them.

Well… while I’m aware that truly few people can perform purification and healing techniques, are these arts really considered so sacred that common folk feel compelled to show such extreme deference?

In general, people tend to think that those who can use purification and healing arts have reached this point through rigorous training and spiritual refinement, making them virtuous and saintly figures. But in my view, these abilities are simply a matter of compatibility and have little to do with one’s character.

So, even though I can purify, I really don’t think people should look at me through rose-colored glasses as some virtuous soul with a pure spirit. Frankly, I see myself as just a witch (or a magic user) who happens to be able to wield a slightly unusual set of spells. (When I mentioned this to Principal Mei, she cut me off with, “Your common sense is everyone else’s nonsense.”)

With such thoughts running through my mind, I continued moving through areas of confusion or where the undead were most concentrated, casting “Purify” on each of them in turn.

“Hey, isn’t that…?”
“…Yeah, no mistaking it.”
“She’s purifying them and all.”
“I mean, how could we be wrong about this?”
“It’s a miracle…”

The power of purification was incredibly effective, and the undead were dwindling in number like snow melting in front of a fire.

The adventurers and soldiers, saved from their dire situation, first stood there in a daze, as if they couldn’t believe their eyes. Then, when they realized it was my doing, they looked stunned and either dropped to one knee or, in some cases, trembled and prostrated themselves as if they’d encountered someone of high nobility.

―No, seriously, enough of that, just get back to work.

Thinking this, I continued purifying the undead and healing the injured whenever I spotted one. But I started to notice something strange… or rather, something unnerving about the atmosphere around me, and I discreetly asked Coppelia, who was walking behind me.

“Hey, don’t you think something’s off? Everyone’s being strangely quiet and overly respectful.”
“Hm? Isn’t this normal? A bunch of lowly commoners finally recognizing their place and acting humble. I’d say it’s about time. Isn’t this how it always is for you?”
“What kind of villainess do you think I am!? ―Also, I recall you saying the pendant’s recognition interference only partially works after being grabbed by Igoronak…”

Even without trying to listen, I could overhear snippets of conversation like:

“Isn’t that―”
“…Lady Clara!”
“Oh, the Shrine Maiden Princess has descended upon us in this time of crisis!”

…Yeah, I’m hearing some troubling words.

“Shouldn’t I look completely different from my original appearance to outsiders?!”

“That’s how it should be, yes…” Coppelia replied, tilting her head quizzically.

“If my calculations are correct, the bangs should be one centimerte longer than usual, the angle of your eyes two degrees sharper, your chest one size smaller, and your eye color should change from its usual blue to green—or if the reverse, from green to blue. Oh, and as a bonus, the skirt should be two centimertes shorter—”

Thud!

Without waiting for her to finish, I grabbed her head and delivered a knee strike, acting purely on a surge of murderous intent.

“““““UWOOOOHHH!!!! That merciless knee strike…! She is definitely Lady Clara!!”””””

A group of clergymen—older men and women—gasped in awe, their faces lighting up as they murmured among themselves.

No, hold on. That’s gotta be a mistake. In more ways than one.

Looking around, I caught sight of Viola and Lieselotte, escorted by a few idle soldiers, retreating toward the crumbling church with expressions that seemed bewildered, as if they’d fallen for some terrible trick. Meanwhile, Cestlavie, who was on the defensive, kept glancing at me with a puzzled look, tilting his head repeatedly.

To avoid complications later, I should probably deny everything and claim to be just a passing beauty who happens to be specializing in exorcisms. Once this is over, I’ll just make my escape on Vier and be done with it.

“You are mistaken! I am—”
“Lady Clara, watch out!!”

At the desperate shout, I instinctively ducked, relying on my senses, just in time as a massive scythe—a sickle not meant for combat but one scaled up from an agricultural tool—swept past where my chest had been.

Coppelia, caught on the end of the scythe, screamed, “Hyaaahhh!” as she was flung away, but she practically deserved it.

Meanwhile, as I rolled forward to dodge and put some distance from my assailant, I rose to find myself facing a towering ogre over two melts tall, a hulking mass of muscle wielding a weapon and wearing a strange mask.

“Watch out. Nothing we do affects him,” I think I heard Cestlavie’s voice warning me, but without panicking, I sidestepped the wide swing of the sickle again—it’s not like that weapon allows for much variety in attacks—slipping into its guard and delivering a kick to its weak spot.

“Gwaaargh—!”

As it staggered, the ogre threw a backhand at me, which I parried, letting my magic staff fall to the ground as I seized its upper arm with both hands, twisting hard to break the joint.

When it dropped to one knee in pain, I released its arm and spun around, slamming my elbow into the mask covering its face.

I felt a solid impact, as if smashing through pottery, and the mask on the ogre shattered into tiny pieces. I quickly distanced myself, picking up my staff and readying it once more.

“「O Prison of Ice, engulf all into your frozen wasteland」 — 「Freeze」”

As soon as I chanted the spell, frost covered the ogre’s entire body, turning it completely white before it shattered into pieces.

“Is it… defeated?”

A voice filled with disbelief murmured from the adventurers who had been watching from a safe distance. But almost immediately, it was replaced by an earth-shaking cheer.

“Uoooohhhhh!”
“As expected of Lady Clara!”
“To take down that monster in a single blow… no, a split second!”
“ “ “Lady Clara! Lady Clara!!” ” ”

They chanted, voices rising in unison.

“No, no, you’re mistaken! I’m not…”
“Ah, that was rough. Well, looks like you’ve finished off the riff-raff. No wonder they call you the Shrine Maiden Princess, Clara.”

At that moment, Coppelia staggered back over. Aside from a bit of dirt, she seemed completely unharmed—a testament to her unnecessary durability, I suppose.

With Coppelia repeatedly calling me Clara this, Clara that, most of those around us seemed to nod in agreement, as if saying, “Oh, so it really is Lady Clara after all.”

“Lady Clara, it’s been a long time. I am Don Simeon, a Bishop of the Saintess’ Church. Do you remember me?”

An elderly man in an expensive-looking cassock stepped forward from the group of clergy.

Actually, this is our first meeting.

“We had heard that you’d passed away, but we never truly believed it. To think we would be reunited in such a fateful place…”

Tears streamed down the face of the high-ranking cleric, and with others gathered behind him, I didn’t quite have the heart to loudly protest and told them they got the wrong person who just happened to look like Clara.

How on earth was I supposed to get out of this predicament?

And then—

‘You insolent fools—!!!’

With an earth-shattering roar of rage, Bartholomew was hurled effortlessly into the air, bouncing along the ground until he disappeared into the dark forest. The sound of trees breaking continued for a while, but before it ceased, a massive figure rose from the gaping hole in the ground—a figure that could only be described as a “black shadow.”

‘You all, remember that you are nothing but my prey! And you, Saintess! You especially will not be forgiven. I shall take every last drop of life force and magic from your body for myself!’

Facing Igoronak’s wrathful stance, I briefly found myself thinking, At least it’s a good distraction, so I don’t have to explain myself right now. Lucky me! Though, perhaps I was very, very mistaken.