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My legs felt weaker than a newborn fawn, ready to collapse at the slightest lapse in concentration. I crouched halfway down, slapped my knees with both hands for a burst of spirit, and forced myself fully upright again. My gaze turned toward Maria Lou, who was still lying there, staring up at me in stunned silence.

“—This much is nothing. And really, don’t go deciding things are ‘impossible’ or ‘hopeless’ without even trying. Giving up is something you only do after you’ve done absolutely everything you can, and even then, only in the instant you fall short. That’s not something someone who doesn’t even try should say! And besides—”

I looked upward—at the massive, whale-like corpse of the beast, Echidna, Maria Lou’s progenitor and mother, now lifeless, having shielded her and Colin with her own body.

“Do you not understand why Echidna protected you in her final moments? Even at the cost of her own life, she wanted her daughter—her other self—to survive. That’s why she sacrificed herself for you, isn’t it?”

“—!!”

Maria Lou’s eyes flew wide as she gasped sharply. She looked up at Echidna once more, then closed her eyes and murmured something faintly—“…than…”—before slowly beginning to push herself up, her hands trembling with effort.

“—Please, Colin. Help me.”
“Y-Yeah. Yeah, Maria Lou!”

Urged on by the determination in her eyes and voice—a stark contrast to the despair and emptiness she had shown moments earlier—Colin broke into a bright smile and offered her his shoulder, helping her to rise.

Once I confirmed that Maria Lou had somehow managed to stand, though she still swayed unsteadily, I did my best to maintain a calm expression—of course, it was pure bravado—and glanced around at the others.

“Now then, let us plan our escape,” I suggested.

“No, but how? Even if we try to dig our way out, we’d need to tunnel at least several hundred mertes.”
“Isn’t that just a matter of you digging a tunnel with your Earth-type Art, peasant? You’re the only one here who can even use Earth Arts, so as Lady Clara says, put your life on the line and get to work.”

With a perfectly detached tone, Coppelia goaded Cestlavie, whose mouth twisted into a grim frown.

“Arts, huh… I can only use Arts up to intermediate level, so I can’t just conveniently open a passageway like that. Besides, that magical energy surge earlier—that massive explosion—was clearly a large-scale, wide-area destructive ritual Art of the Earth element. I don’t know who pulled it off, but a spell like that requires at least three casters capable of high-level Earth spell arts. If I start throwing around Earth spells here, it’ll tip them off that we’re still alive, and then they’ll target us directly. We’d be done for.”

At Cestlavie’s analysis, High Priestess Teressa furrowed her brow in thought.

“A ritual spell… And if it was used right in the middle of the Sant’Angelo Sanctorum, then there’s no mistaking it—the perpetrator must be someone within the Church. Most likely a member of the clergy of extraordinarily high rank. Their objective could be the assassination of His Holiness Pope Theodoros, or perhaps a reckless move by those in power who resent the Shrine Maiden Princess… or maybe all of the above.”
“Well, no point in dwelling on it here. Once we get out of this alive, we’ll be sure to settle the score.”

Cardinal Callisto’s words carried a light tone, but a hint of vengeance lingered beneath them.

“Indeed. As the Saintess herself said in Chapter Thirty-Six of the Holy Scripture: ‘Strike back when struck. Otherwise, they’ll walk all over you.’”

Teressa responded with equally sharp words.

Incidentally, in Chapter Thirty-Six of the Holy Scripture, the words spoken by Saintess Snow were phrased much more gently and indirectly. What High Priestess Teresa just quoted was more of an interpretation—or rather, a drastic paraphrase—but somehow it felt to me as though it was closer to the original intent.

“Back to the matter at hand: that means having Cestlavie dig a tunnel with ‘Earth’ Arts is best avoided, correct?”
“Yeah. Well, I don’t like giving in to Coppelia’s taunts, but if push comes to shove, I’ll risk my life to try casting an Art.”

He said this in a calm tone while pulling out a talisman and holding it between his fingers.

Even Coppelia seemed moved by his straightforward resolve, saying with an uncharacteristically bright expression:

“I’ve changed my opinion of you, plebeian. If you die here, we won’t even need to dig your grave. Luckily, we’ve got priests and priestesses here, so we can hold a proper service and put up a nice gravestone for you. I’ll even have it engraved with, ‘Here lies a nameless plebeian, buried alongside some failed, incomprehensible monster.’ So rest assured—you can blow yourself up with that Art without a single worry.”

She gently placed a hand on Cestlavie’s shoulder as she said this ever-so-kindly.

“—Forget it. I’ll survive this no matter what!!”

Cestlavie shook off her hand and declared firmly.

Even in this situation, seeing this scene play out so much like usual made me smile faintly—but then a sudden dizziness overtook me, my vision went completely dark, and I desperately clung to the Ari Di Luce in my hands, somehow managing to avoid collapsing.

“Jill!? Damn it, she’s hit her limit—mana depletion! Stop using Telekinesis already!”

Cestlavie’s panicked shout reached me as he grabbed my shoulder to steady me.
Ah, so this is mana depletion… Is this the first time I’ve truly run myself completely dry? The idle thought flashed through my mind—then I quickly shook my head, forcing my hazy consciousness back into focus.

“…I can’t. If I stop using Telekinesis now, this entire space will collapse instantly. That’s as clear as day. I have to maintain it for as long as possible.”
“But still… damn it! If only I had more power…! Wait, Regulus! You’ve got mana comparable to Jill’s, right? Can’t you take over and hold it up instead?!”

Cestlavie, his frustration written all over his face, turned to Regulus, who wore a similarly pained expression, almost pleading with him.

“…Impossible. Regulus’s control over magic is far too unfocused. He cannot manage something so delicate as maintaining a fixed field like this permanently.”

This much, surely, Cestlavie also understands.

Indeed, Regulus, being a demon, possesses a magic capacity comparable to my own, and the sheer force he can unleash at once is on a completely different level from that of a human practitioner. However, ever since he became a slave, he has been heavily restricted from using magic by means of sealing devices. As a result, while he can release pure, instinctive magical power, it has become clear from what we have seen so far that he cannot perform fine, structured spells as magic.

“—Tch! Then I’ll just have to risk it all myself—”
“Wa—!”

Sensing Cestlavie, unusually flustered, about to gather every ounce of his mana to attempt the strategy Coppelia suggested earlier, I moved to stop him at once. But in that very instant, I felt a surge of powerful null-attribute magic, a telekinesis spell, cast from a short distance away—layered precisely over my own telekinesis.

“—Eliza!?”
“Hmph. I’ll give you a hand, so cut your telekinesis and take a rest.”

The one who acted was none other than Eliza, who until now had remained silent, looking the other way as if this had nothing to do with her.

I had assumed she was only plotting her own escape, so this unexpected aid left not only me but everyone present staring at her in stunned disbelief.

“I’m not helping you specifically. I just judged this to be the optimal course of action to raise my chances of survival, even slightly. This isn’t about camaraderie.”

Eliza gave that excuse before I could say a word.

“Ooh! So this is the exact moment when the tsundere shows her dere side!”
“…Just shut up, you.”

At Coppelia’s tone-deaf comment, Eliza’s expression twitched in irritation, and her control over the telekinesis faltered. Rubble began to slip and scatter down, but Cestlavie quickly threw a charm to seal Coppelia’s mouth.

That seemed to help Eliza regain her composure. She shot a glance at me, still standing there in shock, and said,

“In situations like this, isn’t a word of thanks in order? Honestly, I wonder what kind of upbringing you had. I’d like to see your parents’ faces.”

Though she said it with a sneer,

“…Ah. My apologies.”

Feeling somewhat unconvinced, I bowed my head to Eliza.