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Take balloons for instance. If a toothpick were inserted into a balloon filled with gas, the gas would escape and the balloon would burst. If not balloons, then a full dam. If even one path for stored water were created, the formless water would be released from it at a furious rate.

The power of something massive escaping outward from its storage
was so powerful that its energy could be converted into fuel for a steam engine depending on how it was utilized.

The same was true for the sphere that Seletina shattered. She thrust her great sword of light into the outer shell and reached her hand through the resulting crack.

The darkness that had been kneading and kneading, filling up as much as it could, and even becoming frustrated with the situation of confinement that it was in, had finally found a way through.

“Whoa!!!”

A natural outcome. The sticky darkness burst out all at once from the gap. Seletina’s slender arm was pushed back, and the darkness began to stain the angel, which even seemed sacred, without a shred of discretion.

From her palm to her arm, from her arm to her shoulder, the thick touch of the darkness assaulted Seletina’s senses. It had been raw, warm, sloppy, and tingling on her skin. Unpleasant, to say the least. To Seletina, it felt as if various half-liquidated insects were crawling around on her skin.

This was when she finally understood the true nature of the darkness.

“Aghh!!!” Seletina let out a pained shriek. The darkness pierced her nerves and flowed into her, followed by a heat that scorched her. Then came pain. Seletina felt as if a ball of needles was running through her veins.

“Ah… Argh!” Her vision was closed off by the darkness’ abyss. The angel, being swallowed by the viscous black wave, tried to weakly flap its wings, but in the end, was completely taken in.

“Orthus!” Imitia shouted from below. Her pupils dilated, and her voice was full of tragedy.

A thick fog of frenzied darkness stained Ulbdor. Even if Seletina’s body was being guarded by a hero’s strong will, there was no way she could remain safe with that thick liquid surrounding her for long.

“Aghhh…” Seletina almost lost consciousness. Veins of anguish ran through her face, her vision cleared, but her clenched teeth showed that she was still resisting.

Lichter’s thick darkness was raging inside of Seletina. A tremendous amount of killing intent, anger, and then sorrow ripped through her brain at a dizzying pace, tearing it to shreds.

She felt pain. Anguish coursed through her burning body. She felt like she’d go crazy. She was tormented by a discomfort that couldn’t be compared to any of her past experiences.

The burden engraved in the hearts of others was poured into her own.

(It hurts. It’s hard. I’m hot. I want to puke. I’m cold. I’m scared.)

Various negative emotions filled Seletina. This was the first time the legendary hero Orthus had felt the pain of others clashing with the walls of his ego, shattering his inner self.

It was then that a genuine question arose within Seletina. Seletina sensed that the pain, this anguish, it was all coming from Lichter. Seletina had never known, nor did she understand it.

She’d never fully gotten to know the existence known as Lichter. His reason for seeking strength, the reason why he could enjoy battles against strong foes. She knew nothing, nothing at all.

But the opportunity to find out the truth was just around the corner.

The darkness of Lichter’s life was directly flowing into her brain. His experiences and memories were trying to burn Seletina’s nerves. Which is why she was finally able to understand.

(This is…)

Within the raging storm, Seletina caught a glimpse of Lichter’s past, and the reason behind his obsession with strength. It was nothing short of horrific.

Seletina saw the miserable life of a boy who was born into poverty, a life that could be likened to slavery. How he left his beloved brother to be killed by the demons, and how he lived with the guilt of his weakness due to the weight of his crime.

His regrets, his anguish, his thirst for strength, his sin of not being able to accept himself. In his young body, he had a past that was too heavy for him.

The pain that surrounded her at each moment was conveyed by the scorching heat she felt. Seletina was reliving Lichter’s past, feeling with her body a volume of information that words alone could not convey.

Seletina couldn’t help but feel sorry for him and the suffering that was tormenting him. Lichter was still immature. Immature and incomplete, yet unable to find a good teacher or protector, he had become a warrior who devoured strength with a distorted sensibility.

Seletina felt ashamed. She was ashamed that, in her role as Orthus, she had allowed the orphans such a life. The hero’s mind was gripped by an irresistible turmoil of shame and guilt.

But the stream of consciousness, the past that flowed into Seletina showed her that
Lichter’s desire to be strong did not come from only that. Deep within Lichter’s being, there was a warrior.

There was one man who was intimately involved with Lichter’s endless desires.

(What?!)

Seletina knew that warrior’s face well. Clad in a silver sacred armor. Carrying a sword as tall as himself. The man with a somewhat depressed look on his face was none other than the hero Orthus.

Orthus’ image was deeply etched in the depths of Lichter’s mind.