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A torrent of earth and sand poured down like a muddy waterfall, followed by massive grey boulders—some over ten mertes across—collapsing one after another like a row of dominoes.

Faced with the overwhelming certainty of death—

“Kyyaaaaaaaaahhhh!!!”
“Hiiiyaaaaaaaaaaahhh!?!”

—the shrill screams of a boy (read: Colin) and an old man (read: the Pope) cut through the chaos, piercingly clear.

“Colin—!”
Maria Lou’s desperate cry rang out in answer.

“Your Holiness, what’s with that pathetic display! At the very least, die with dignity—as the leader of over a hundred million believers!”

Even now, High Priestess Teressa found time to scold Pope Theodoros.

“Like hell I’m dying here! I refuse to go out like this!!”
That was Eliza, her voice burning with defiance.

“Ow—peep! I’m Doshæmon, a maid-type automaton from the future!”
And then there was Coppelia, who must have been struck in the head by falling rubble, cheerfully singing nonsense while introducing herself.

Compared to the men, who could only panic, scream, or fall silent in terror, the women showed remarkable courage and resolve in the face of certain doom.

Surely all the men here must be blood type A, while the women are type O. —Ah! No, that’s wrong. I must be losing my wits in the pressure of this moment. In any case, the situation is dire. If this keeps up, won’t it only reinforce Cestlavie’s oft-proclaimed prejudice—“All the women around me are lunatics”—as if it were an undeniable truth!?

“—That’s not true, Cestlavie!!”
“My Princess!?”
“What the hell are you babbling about?! At least act seriously now of all times!”

I tried to protest, but only Cestlavie’s exasperated retort came back.

“Ow… huh? Oh right, hey peasant. Serious question. In this era where you’ve got no love rivals, why haven’t you made a move to steal Lady Clara’s heart yet?”
“Don’t ask a serious question like that!!”

Another chunk of rubble smacked Coppelia’s head, knocking her back to her senses—only for her to blurt out something so idiotic it drove Cestlavie into a fit of rage. His indignant shout was swallowed whole by the avalanche of earth and stone burying the underground cavern.

…Not that it matters, but this makes the third time I’ve been buried alive in a landslide. I wonder… will the record keep going up from here?

♦♢♦♢

How much time had passed, I could not tell. In the darkness—where the glow of a Light Art had been smothered under earth and stone—came the dazed voice of Pope Theodoros.

“St… still alive. This isn’t… a dream, is it?”
“…Your Holiness, if you wish to confirm your consciousness, might I suggest pinching your own cheek? Kindly refrain from groping my rear.”
“Ohohoh! Forgive me, Clara. I simply reached for what was closest at hand.”
“ENOUGH! What shameless behavior is this!?”

Without the slightest remorse, His Holiness continued fondling me until the sharp crack of High Priestess Teressa smacking him echoed through the cavern. Judging by how the sound carried, it seemed a surprisingly large pocket of space had been preserved.

“…It’s dark. Can’t anyone make a light?”
“Instead of whining about the darkness, shouldn’t you have the resolve to be the one who brings light, peasant?”

Coppelia snapped back at Cestlavie’s grumble with something that sounded like a motivational slogan.

““「Let light illuminate this hand of mine.」””
Both High Priestess Teressa and Sister Eliza intoned the spell in crisp unison.

““「Light.」””

Soft light bloomed forth.

Eliza chose a bit of rubble as her focus, while Lady Teressa—

“…I feel malicious intent here, Teressa.”

—used Pope Theodoros’s head as her medium.

“—Maria-Lou!”
Colin’s cry was sharp, almost a scream.

“Jill, you—!”
“My Princess… tch, I see.”

Cestlavie bit his lip. Regulus grimaced.

Now that the place was illuminated, the full situation was plain.

First—everyone who had been present had survived, though most of the wastebeasts and golems were crushed beyond saving.
Second—the space we were in was unexpectedly large. Of course, this was no mere accident.

“…Ahh, I am dead, I see…” Maria-Lou, still lying on the ground, looked up at the corpse of Echidna, sprawled across us as though to shield us, and whispered in a fading voice. “It’s over… everything is over. There’s no point in me living anymore…”

“Maria-Lou! Don’t say that! We’ll go back together! The editor-in-chief… your father is waiting for you!”

Colin cried out desperately, sensing the dangerous resignation in her calm, glassy expression. But Maria Lou only closed her eyes, already surrendered to despair.

“…It’s impossible. And besides… we can’t get out of here. Lady Clara has been holding it back this whole time, but even she’s at her limit…”

Her words made Colin turn to me, confused, since he couldn’t sense magic himself. He found me sitting, drained.

Cestlavie answered for me.
“Non-elemental telekinesis. Jill’s been holding back the earth and stone alone this whole time. But maintaining this much mass… it’s insane. Her limit’s coming soon.”

“…Exactly. Just as I can’t stand anymore, neither can Lady Clara. It’s already over…”
“No—”

“No way that’s true!!”

Maria Lou’s surrender was intolerable. I refused to let it end like this—!

Even as my magic bled away, dragging my body and life-force with it until I was nearly hollow, pride alone kept me going. Somehow—though I could not say how—I forced myself upright, leaning on Ari de Luce as a crutch.

Maria-Lou’s eyes went wide.

“She stood!”
“She really stood!?”
“Lady Clara is standing!!”

Regulus, Cestlavie, and Coppelia all stared at me in astonishment.