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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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