Buezrith has seized control of the holy sword.

I am entirely unsure of how that happens, but something tells me she has been planning this for a long time. From lengthy and deliberately crafted plays that ultimately end in failure to strange occurrences surrounding the holy sword itself...

Piecing the puzzles together, perhaps her goal was to make the holy sword and its power hers all along.

The question is whether Neveah and the other me purposefully let it happen... or it's just that Buezrith is too hard to deal with. Whatever it is, I have to take back that power here.

Not only is it the power Claire has worked so hard to be worthy of, but it is also one that will help us tremendously later. Most of all... I don't want to see her falling into despair after losing her power.

''So this is how it feels...''

But the opponent is nothing like what I've encountered so far.

She's experienced, cunning, and annoyingly overwhelming. While it is true that I have inherited my future self's nihility just now, it is merely a small portion of it. There's no way the convergence can be that abrupt.

On the other hand, Buezrith seems strangely adept with Neveah's divine power.

For all I know, Neveah puts no little effort into creating that sword, meaning it is far from ordinary. Is it because she is a human? Or maybe because she was once a nun? Neveah's essence doesn't repel her like it did to countless demons at all.

''Hahah...''

Visibly content with that fact, Buezrith gives a chilling smile before jumping at me again. 

This time, neither of us is on the defense. 

Divinity clashes with divinity, cancelling one another out as our blades meet. I'd never thought I would have to face that faint white divine power in my life.

But just like how it went before, my opponent quickly gains momentum thanks to her expertise in close combat. And just as quickly, I am forced into a defensive state.

''Tch...''

The holy sword's glimmering edge tears through everything in its path, bringing along violent surges of destructive shockwaves. As I dance through all that mess, my brain races for counterplays.

No, it already has from the beginning.

Accelerating my thoughts and pulling my consciousness into parallel mode, I have been frantically adjusting my spatial magic to bypass this cage. Even if Buezrith is still stronger than me at this stage, the difference shouldn't be too much.

If she is really that strong, then I would have already been dead.

So, if I can just bring this battlefield into the Backrooms, the victory will be mine. With territorial advantages and forces ready to deploy, defeating her is not hard.

Of course, that runs the risk of her escaping through various means. She might be able to teleport... or worse, directly break out of the Backrooms. Now that I know what the 'horrors' are made of, I can't help but think of such possibilities.

Still, there's no other choice.

Deciding that I'd push the adjustment process further, I leap back toward Goatman, ''Assist me.'' I order. ''Leave the girl here.''

The hazy figure, now towering in the free space, rushes forward, heeding my command. While he clashes with Buezrith, I cage the unconscious Janet in a hardened ice crystal, infusing a bit of my nihility to further reinforce it.

''A two versus one now? Where's your chivalrous spirit, girl?''

''Cheap provocations.''

''You're right.''

Giggling, Buezrith easily fends off our attacks.

As expected, for Goatman, a 'newborn,' his dark magic practically has no chance against Buezrith. Nonetheless, his presence does stall me some time and processing power. Soon enough, I feel a breakthrough on the magic side.

Fighting in the Backrooms might get risky, but it's the only way.

Steeling my mind like that, I reach toward Buezrith, intending to pry open the gate to my domain—

''Aurora!''

''?!''

It is like a storm.

An intense wave of energy washes over me. Accompanied by a loud crackling sound, a figure rushes past me, ramming straight into our unsuspecting opponent.

''C... laire?''

Claire.

Eyes brimming with a brilliant golden light, platinum blond hair now reaching her back, and an unmistakable aura of a... god. That expression, that smile—she's the Claire that I know.

Is she using divine energy...?

''Hahah... I didn't expect this.''

Buezrith blocks the heroine's sword with her own. The timeline has become so twisted now that Neveah's power is clashing with its own, and the destined heroine wields another blade to go against the holy sword.

''Sorry, Aurora! Your sword might really break after this...!'' Claire lightly says, clearly pumped. 

''How did you... fine, I'll ask you later.''

''Thanks.''

Claire is overexerting herself, evidenced by the fine sweat on her neck and the little trembling of her limbs. Coming to the conclusion that she probably can't hold this state for long, I leap in with my own attack—a wide swing at Buezrith's blind spot.

Caught between the jaws of death, the woman tries to slip away, yet something dark pulls at her legs at just the right instant.

''Ugh...!''

Her arms holding the holy sword lose their strength, leaving Claire's blade heavily scrape it downward, while my blade cleanly rips through her flesh.

Cuts into the skin.

Sinks into the flesh.

Crushes the bones.

Afterward, Buezrith finds herself clutching her wide-open wound, which runs diagonally from her waist to her shoulder.

Seizing that chance, both of us pounce on her again.

As with any opponent of this caliber, Buezrith's regeneration is frankly disgusting, yet with divine power in play, even that kind of ability has its limits.

So, before she can heal, we pile more attacks on top of everything.

''Hah... hah...''

Even as Claire's speed and strength slowly deteriorate, we have already gained big momentum. With me here, there won't be any mishaps.

Buezrith gets cornered after a while.

Wounds—small and large—mar her delicate-looking body, while her movements turn sluggish. The whole time, facing our relentlessness, she has no choice but to focus on defense.

After all, not even the holy sword's power can save a heavily injured person... or so I thought.

''...Seriously?''

Just as thoughts like 'we've won' emerge in my mind, Buezrith reveals a wry smile, ''How annoying...''

Then, as if absorbing the holy sword's power, countless white lines run along her arms, rapidly closing her wounds with a speed almost too ridiculous.

Great.

It turns out the holy sword has a healing function, too. Great.

''...That's ridiculous,'' Claire utters, exhaustion mixed with sweat already blinding her sight.

''No, look closer, Claire.''

Although that monster is stabilizing, the holy sword's aura has noticeably dimmed. I don't think its energy pool is wholly depleted or anything. Maybe it runs on a battery.

Either way, this version of Buezrith we're facing must be much weaker.

''We can do it, Claire.'' I confidently declare.

''I wonder...''

The heroine, whose uncertainties always catch up to her at the worst moments, replies with a bitter chuckle. In such a case... what should I say to brighten her up?

''If we win this, I'll kiss you.''

Probably not that. 

But I said it anyway.

''Nhn?''

But before I realize it, Claire grips my wrist, her strength surprisingly stable. Her eyes, now with their luster regained, fixed on me.

''You promise?''

''...Sure.''

Sometimes, the answer to a difficult question is unexpected, I guess.