Other than the few left behind to secure the site, Clay was marching with the Demon King’s Army back toward Barungenia. His eyes lingered on the back of his hand.

‘Should I call it a relief?’

The sun’s mark remained faint but unbroken, still etched into his skin.

‘It doesn’t transmit power properly.’

Perhaps because his connection to Elhaen had strengthened again. Elhaen’s holy power surged within him like a storm he could barely contain, while the power granted by the Sun God felt weak and fragile.

‘So Elhaen’s influence is stronger after all.’

From everything he had learned, Elhaen was undeniably superior to the other gods.

But the strength of the link pressing down on him wasn’t necessarily only due to that difference in stature.

‘Elhaen wants my body.’

Which meant his body was the most compatible vessel for Elhaen.

‘That pull must act like a force of gravity, drawing us together.’

Whether it had been that way from the beginning, or whether Elhaen had singled him out and altered his body deliberately, the revulsion in Clay’s chest was the same.

‘Elhaen...’

How could he sever this chain?

His teeth sank into his lip unconsciously.

“Demon King.”

Syltanaro’s voice called to him.

“There’s a battle underway.”

The booms rolled faintly from far off. She looked at him with worry.

“Shouldn’t we send more troops?”

“No.” Clay sighed, “Beatrice chose to remain for that reason.”

“Mm...”

“Don’t worry, Syltanaro.”

Beatrice wasn’t one to overestimate herself.

“She stayed behind with battle in mind.”

Sending more soldiers would only interfere.

“...Understood.”

Syltanaro nodded, then glanced at the sword in his hand.

“But, Demon King... what will you do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“The sword.”

The weapon of the Demon King should have been a demonic blade. But in Clay’s hand gleamed Excalbren—the Holy Sword.

“Many will recognize it.”

“Yes.”

Clay’s eyes lowered to the blade, indifferent.

“I’ll have to settle it, one way or another.”

But even he hadn’t decided how.

‘I can’t wield Syltanaro in this state, yet I can’t simply cast Excalbren aside.’

And yet, he couldn’t keep wielding it either. Not as the Demon King—and certainly not while the holy power flowing through it was Elhaen’s.

‘Tia never used Elhaen’s holy power.’

That was a clue. She had reforged Excalbren and infused it with the Sun God’s strength instead. Proof that Elhaen’s power wasn’t the only key to the sword.

‘I need contingencies.’

There was a reason he couldn’t sever Elhaen’s power now. But someday, he might. And when that happened, the only power left to sustain Excalbren would be the Sun God’s.

“Syltanaro.”

“Yes, Demon King?”

“Tell Lin and Goltche that I have work for them as soon as we return to Barungenia.”

“You mean... adjusting your body again?”

“I’ll consider it, but not the way you think.”

Back then, Elhaen’s holy power had been suppressed by the Brands. Now it overflowed wildly. Forcing his body back into one that could hold Magia might have dangerous side effects.

Instead, he would test cautiously.

“I want to see what this mark can do.”

Though Elhaen’s link was stronger, this mark had been given directly by the Sun God. Perhaps it could exert greater influence over his body than Elhaen’s power did.

“I’m sorry, Syltanaro.”

His voice was low.

“I told you to be my sword, and now all I do is make you wait.”

“N-No! Please don’t apologize.”

She shook her head fiercely.

“This isn’t your fault. And even if you chose never to wield me again, I would still accept it.”

“No.”

Clay’s voice cut firm.

“You don’t need to resign yourself like that.”

He knew too well the pain of losing one’s purpose.

“You’ve been my sword. Though our first meeting was... difficult, in the end you gave me all your loyalty.”

He would not ignore her devotion.

“So speak to me honestly.”

Even if the situation had changed, even if things had become complicated, he wouldn’t treat her lightly.

“As your master, I want to give you my best.”

To the blade who had supported him through his fall from Hero to Demon King, he offered sincerity.

“Will you allow me that?”

For a moment she was silent. Then Syltanaro nodded.

“Yes!”

It was a simple, direct answer—but enough.

“Let’s hurry.”

Pushing away the echoes of distant explosions, Clay pressed forward.

♧

“Huff... huff...”

Wounded.

Nael stumbled back, blood dripping from her tattered left arm where Beatrice’s claws had torn it apart.

“Haaah...”

Beatrice too was panting, her own breath heavy from the furious exchange.

“A surprise attack... but impressive.”

Nael had sacrificed one arm to hammer Beatrice’s face with the other, leaving the Dragonborn general with visible damage.

“But the difference in class is clear.”

Beatrice bared her fangs with a sharp grin.

“Originally, I wanted to deal with this quietly—for Clay’s sake, when he comes back.”

Beatrice’s body began to shift into her dragon form. Nearby buildings toppled under the weight of her expanding bulk, while her massive wings whipped up a gale, sending birds plummeting to the ground.

『Even as beasts, I stand above you.』

“!”

Beatrice’s jaw opened wide, releasing a blazing fireball. Nael clenched her teeth and punched straight into the incoming mass of flame.

Kwooooom!

Her fist collided with the fireball. It split, but the force behind it didn’t vanish.

Nael was hurled back, fragments of fire scattering around her. Beatrice soared into the sky.

『I’ll show you calamity.』

Her breath weapon speared down like a beam of light, raking diagonally across the ruins where Nael had fallen.

Watching the sky stain crimson from a distance, Tia let out a sigh.

‘...So this is what it’s come to.’

She understood Nael. If there were a chance to go back to the past, she too would have taken it.

But Clay could never return. Not when he already believed himself to have died once.

‘We have to let him go.’

Those who knew Clay had only one duty: to help him move on from the past, so he would no longer suffer from it.

‘And for that...’

Though she knew the answer, even she could not bring herself to say it aloud.

Boom!

Nael burst out of the rubble, sprinting to avoid Beatrice’s breath. Beatrice pursued, unleashing flames ceaselessly.

The entire field burned, like hell itself had risen to the surface.

Kwooooooosh!

Suddenly, from the fractured ground, something surged upward.

“What...!”

Tia’s eyes widened. Crawling forth were the giant demons.

Krrraaaaaagh!

Drawn by the chaos, they raised their heads toward the sky—where Beatrice’s wings cut through the air.

Crack! Boom!

The giants tore chunks of rubble free and hurled them skyward.

“Tch...!”

They were targeting the most obvious figure—Beatrice. She tried to climb higher into the sky, but—

Boom!

Several boulders struck her body. Losing balance, her breath attack spiraled wildly, scorching the ground in erratic bursts.

“Khuk!”

Tia dove aside, narrowly avoiding the scatter of fire. But one of the giant demons loomed before her.

Rising from the ground, she thrust out her hand.

A sword of light formed in her grip. Having wielded Excalbren, her instincts created the weapon as if by reflex.

“Damn you, Neville... what have you done?”

She recalled his betrayal, cutting forward and severing the giant’s ankle. As it toppled, more emerged behind. Tia leapt, vaulting over their shoulders, her blade slashing in every direction.

The giants fell one after another, collapsing atop the already ruined buildings.

But they weren’t stopping. From below, more poured out of the ground. They hurled boulders skyward, forcing Beatrice to dodge. Struck again and again, she finally lost her balance and reverted to human form, crashing to the ground.

“Annoying vermin...!”

Landing atop a giant’s head, she spread her crimson gaze wide.

Screeeech!

She thrust both hands into its skull. Its vacant eyes suddenly lit with awareness.

Illusion—and Domination.

Under Beatrice’s control, the giant spun and charged straight back toward the chasm where others were climbing.

Boom!

It hurled itself into the passage, sealing the entrance with its own body.

Beatrice leapt free from the fallen giant and landed, pressing her hands to the earth.

“You’ve pushed me far enough.”

Flames seeped through the cracks in the ground. Between the shattered rubble, molten crimson liquid welled up.

“Magma.”

The world turned scarlet, as if drenched in sunset.

Tia’s breath caught.

‘This is...’

She felt it—the flood of Magia. Beatrice was unleashing a torrent, intending to wipe out the giants in one sweep.

Step. Step.

Nael appeared again, advancing on Beatrice through the chaos.

“Nael!”

Tia cried, but Nael didn’t stop. To her, this was the chance she had been waiting for.

“Uwaaaaaaagh!”

Another uproar erupted. The ground split, a passage tearing open—and from it, people poured forth.

“Help us!”

Bloodied survivors screamed, fleeing desperately.

Tia’s head snapped between them and Nael—who had already closed in behind Beatrice.

Tap!

Her decision made, Tia rushed forward, sword in hand, striking at Nael.

(End of Chapter)