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The Belbed Caravan’s ship swam on land.

Pulled by the two dragons, Somme and Godala, the huge ship, without sails, soared in the middle of a vast grassland. The ship could crawl on the ground without it touching the bottom of the boat thanks to the Magic Ore engraved with flight techniques embedded all over the ship.

Imitia’s chest was filled with anticipation as she stood at a spot right next to the bow where she could see everything.

The meadows stretched so far into view that one could see the roundness of the horizon. However, Imitia’s eyes only reflected Orthus’ image. Her heart beat a faint, quick wave as she clutched the locket lowered to her chest.

She had obtained rank; she had gained the honor. She had attained the wings of freedom that allowed her to fly anywhere she wanted. All that was left was to pick up the man she loved.

“Elugor, here we come!”

The girl squinted her eyes at the meadow far beyond the reflection in her eyes, with thoughts and determination in her heart. The route she was on led to the Kingdom of Elugor.

The air, which she must have inhaled countless times, had a slight tinge to it.

Imitia clutched the locket once more. The locket from Elesta, which was said to make one’s love wish come true. However, at that moment something happened.

Imitia remembered that moment vividly even to this day… The sight of Gagadan, his face pale and drawn, rushing frantically to her. She knew he was coming with bad news.

However, their journey up until here had been long. They had come across such situations numerous times. For some reason, however, an inexpressible bad feeling began to well up in Imitia’s gut.

“Imitia!” The croaky voice trailed off, and Gagadan came up to Imitia out of breath.
“What’s the matter, Gagadan? What’s with all that hurrying?” Imitia asked, her heart beating erratically.

Despite the thirst in her mouth and the burning heat on her spine, Imitia was somehow able to calmly wait for his next words

Gagadan wiped his mouth, took one breath, and slowly spoke to Imitia.

“Okay, listen to me calmly.” he said.
“I’m listening.”
“There’s bad news. It seems there’s a horde of Demons heading towards the Kingdom of Elugor.”
“Their numbers?”
“From what I saw, no less than a million. There are also numerous Named Upper Ranks amidst them. If what I saw is true, then Elugor, Orthus is already-”
“Full speed ahead.”
“What?”

Imitia flopped onto the bow and looked around at all the members. Everyone, perhaps having heard the conversation just now, had their eyes glued to Imitia.

“Full speed ahead! From now on, this ship is heading straight to the Kingdom of Elugor at full speed! Feed the Dragon King Stone to Somme and Godala! I assume you have no objections?”

Imitia’s determination was uncanny.

At her command, everyone in the group nodded stiffly. It wasn’t just for Imitia’s sake that they did so. All of them knew Orthus, and were indebted to him. Now was the time for them to pay back that debt.

The ship flew forward, cutting through the grassland. Imitia, staring at the end of the grassland, bit her lip and clutched the locket tight. Her hands still trembled like that of a weak and frail girl.

◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆

Three days had passed as Imitia’s ship flew like a comet. When they finally arrived at the Kingdom of Elugor, it was all over.

The meadows around the city were burned, crumpled, and decomposing, and the smell of death wafted from the piles of human and Demon corpses everywhere. The once fertile land of Elugor was being ravaged by death.

This was not the first time the members of the Belbed Caravan had seen a horrific battlefield. Yet, none of them had even seen one as desolate as this.

Someone muttered in a trembling voice,
“Wretched.”
Everyone there shared his opinion.

Orthus… Please, be alive…

It was close to an impossible wish, and Imitia herself knew it. She knew just how bottomless Orthus’ strength was. That being said, given the state of the battlefield it wasn’t unusual to think of the worst.

Nonetheless, Imitia could only pray. Pray that the one she loved was still alive.
Imitia gripped the locket tightly.

◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆

“… Orthus is dead.” Sitting atop the throne, Gadius, the king of Elugor, said with a somber look on his face.

When Imitia, who had been granted a special audience, heard his words, her thoughts short-circuited. Her head felt heavy, as if her brain had been doused with strong carbonated liquor.

… Orthus is dead.

She repeated the words in her mind, but even though her intellect grasped their meaning, her heart and body rejected them. A chilling, unpleasant sensation coursed through her body, and her breathing grew ragged.

“O-Orthus is d-dead?” Her voice came out thin and tremulous, barely audible.

Something cold ran down her cheek. At that moment, Imitia didn’t realize that these were tears.

“That’s right.” Gadius’ response was heavy, and slow, as if he lacked the energy to announce such a tragic event.

Imitia felt a profound sadness, and yet she also sensed Gadius’ grief. She understood that much and had no intention of acting like a child and blaming him for it.

This was the harsh reality of war. There was no way to dam the tears that trickled down her cheeks. The ceaseless tears of passion, in stark contrast to her numbed thoughts, eventually coalesced into large drops that blurred Imitia’s vision.

… Orthus is dead.

Imitia repeated it three times in her mind.

“Your Majesty! I come bearing news about Orthus’ curse. His condition is-” One of the Court Mages rushed to the throne, seemingly unaware of Imitia’s presence.

However, when the mage made eye contact with her, his expression changed noticeably. It expressed that he had seriously screwed up.

Curse? Condition? Imitia’s thoughts faltered as she tried to comprehend his words. Given that he said something about his condition could Orthus still be alive?

In that moment, a seething rage surged within Imitia, “Say, is Orthus still alive?”

Gadius’ expression turned bitter, his eyes dimmed.

Why does he look like that?!

“Orthus is dead.”
“You don’t say! Then what’s the deal with this person over here, spewing stuff about his curse, condition and what not?!”
“He simply chose his words wrong. Nothing else.”
“Gadius!!!”

Imitia couldn’t hold back any longer.

Two strong soldiers blocked her path as she bared her fangs and trembled with endless rage.

“What’s the meaning of this?! Isn’t Orthus your precious knight?! I’m a curse breaking specialist! If he’s alive, let me examine him! Right now! What’s happening to Orthus? Right now! Where is he?! Answer me, Gadius, damn it!”

As she burst into rage, Imitia’s entire body started to undergo a subtle transformation. Her nose raised, her claws and fangs grew thicker. The Bestial Metamorphosis had begun.