―― Arakia, who integrated the “Stone Block” Muspel, now placed her life and death on the same balance as the survival of the Volakia Empire.

As Priscilla pointed out, the combination of the “Soul Marriage Technique” and the “Dream Sword” Masayume had the potential to greatly disrupt Sphinx’s plans.

Sphinx had two purposes for becoming the harbinger of the “Great Calamity,” filling the Volakia Empire with the dead—one of which has successfully been achieved: the recreation of the soul of the “Witch of Greed.” Now, all that remained was for this soul and vessel to fully mingle until the Creator blotted out Sphinx’s existence.

And before Sphinx vanished, with the remaining objective—to call it revenge is fine. To complete the revenge against Priscilla Barielle.

For that purpose, I believed I had played my best card.

However――,

“Are we stopping the Magical Crystal Cannon?”

Sphinx murmurs quietly, witnessing a series of miscalculations unfold.

What the water mirror reflected was a group of factors that could potentially delay the downfall of the Volakia Empire, moving about various locations in the Imperial Capital Rupugana.

Particularly, what captured Sphinx’s black eyes, now bearing an appearance identical to the “Witch of Greed,” was the boy and spirit who had stopped the Magical Crystal Cannon’s strike, a trump card of the Crystal Palace.

That spirit, resembling a girl, had previously used the same method to stop the Magical Crystal Cannon before Sphinx, as the harbinger of the “Great Calamity,” led the dead to launch a full-scale offensive against the Empire. But, according to Sphinx’s perception, that was surely a self-sacrificial act for that spirit.

For them to repeat the same act safely within just two or three days was implausible.

The cause that threw off that reason was the boy, who held a contractual relationship with the embraced spirit.

“Back again, are you?”

The inexplicable boy had repeatedly thwarted Sphinx’s incomplete strategies before recreating the “Witch of Greed,” even while working alongside the Emperor of Volakia.

In reality, had he not grasped the final piece necessary for soul recreation at the last moment, Sphinx’s over three hundred years of effort would have been decisively ended by them.

And that threat remained even now, that Sphinx had reached the stage of “Witch of Greed.”

“—The ‘Sun Sword’ of Volakia and the power of ‘Gluttony’.”

Even after successfully fulfilling her long-awaited wish, the recreation of the “Witch of Greed,” it remained that these two were fatal weaknesses for Sphinx, who was still a dead being.

Therefore, creating multiple instances of the same existence sharing the same soul, Sphinx was careful not to approach the wielders of the “Sun Sword” and that spirit mage boy.

With that in mind――,

“I shall win with everything I have.”

“――――”

At Sphinx’s murmur, Priscilla’s expression seen through the water mirror changed.

She showed a slight smile. — Sphinx was ready to throw in everything she had to twist that smile into something not unpleasant or discomforting, but imbued with a touch of sorrow.

△▼△▼△▼△

A hole appeared in the sky, swallowing the flames of destruction headed for the Volakia Empire.

Natsuki Subaru intercepted a shot fired by the Magical Crystal Cannon, achieving his goal. Haribel, Spica, and Beatrice also fulfilled their respective roles.

“A noble cause indeed. — But.”

While acknowledging this achievement, Emperor Vincent, at the back of his mind, felt apprehensive.

The incapacitation of the empire’s ultimate weapon, the Magical Crystal Cannon, happening so frequently was troubling.

— A nation must always possess a deterrent to dissuade invasions from other countries.

A powerful army that cannot be paralleled by neighboring nations, extraordinary warriors that no one can match, and a potent weapon capable of overcoming any plight—if any of these elements were missing, the current splendor of the empire could not be sustained.

The weight of that undeniable history was being undermined to nothing by the “Great Calamity,” which originated from civil strife.

“In that sense, you all have already disrupted the order protected by the ironclad laws of the empire.”

Biting down on his teeth, Vincent brandished the “Sun Sword.”

As he did, he came to witness figures batting away the approaching undead who were different in appearance from those before.

What exactly was different about them? It’s simple. — Vincent had no memory of them.

“You vile ‘Witch,’ have you learned before you perish?”

In the garden before the Crystal Palace, the battlefield which Vincent was maintaining was filled with ancient undead who likely carved their names into the history of the Volakia Empire.

While all modern imperial soldiers were within Vincent’s memory, he could not precisely identify the backgrounds of the raised undead from the distant past.

Based on his instincts so far, the ratio of resurrected dead being summoned during the “Great Calamity” was overwhelmingly close to modern times. To put it bluntly, those who died during the midst of battling the undead were immediately resurrected as undead themselves. — It was merely speculation, but perhaps souls also carry a certain freshness.

Or simply, the further back in time one goes, the harder it is to resurrect the dead, requiring more of a cost.

For this reason, most of the undead that have risen tend to be closer to the contemporary era, thus the combined effect of Subaru’s “Star Eater” and Vincent’s memories was substantial.

“Are there those that do not fall under that effect?”

Whatever conditions might be imposed in raising the dead, having to prepare undead not part of Vincent’s memories was the best way to seal the “Star Eater.”

That much, the “Witch” seemed to have understood before her soul was burned to cinders.

In other words, the only means of defeating the unfamiliar formidable enemies lying in wait was through Vincent’s “Sun Sword.” — No, there were other ways aside from just the “Sun Sword.”

“—Priscilla.”

That’s right; still, I have no knowledge of my sister’s whereabouts after the retreat.

Priscilla Benedict, now known as Priscilla Barielle, the wayward sister.

When she left the empire and changed her name to become one of the candidates for the Royal Selection of the Lugnica Kingdom, Vincent almost fainted upon confirming the facts. He held back.

The reason she rushed back to her homeland was not out of childish affection for the empire or Vincent. It was to silence the assassin directed at her.

In fact, that presumed reckless attacker had already lost their life.

“Chisha, you wretch.”

Chisha, who even deceived Vincent, had resolved to defy the fate known as the “Great Calamity,” and was one of the few who knew that Priscilla had survived as she transformed from Priska to Priscilla.

If it were Chisha, who knew of Priska’s fierce temperament, she might employ extreme measures to summon Vincent, who had to fend off the “Great Calamity.”

Chisha might have even considered how to handle the post-war imperial throne with that white mask of hers—

“What a grand setup is required, it will be necessary to rethink your view of our Lord.”

Vincent clicked his tongue at such grandiose echoes filled with treason and disloyalty towards the Emperor.

Pushing aside the annoyance brought on by his wild imagination, Vincent held steady on the conclusion about Priscilla’s treatment— it was his responsibility.

Now that it was confirmed that Priscilla’s life was in danger, with Sphinx trying to bring Vincent to her dimension assured him of her safety. That’s good enough for now.

If he were to align himself more closely to the ruling class of the Wolf King’s country, he could easily conjure the needed quantity of “Sun Swords.” — Just as that realization struck him.

“—Splendidly done indeed. I feel proud as a guide.”

A low, sonorous voice struck Vincent’s eardrums amidst the clash of swords.

Simultaneously, a transcendent sword flash cleaved diagonally across his vision, showcasing the excellence seen through countless warriors’ techniques.

That flash cut through the ancient beings who incurred the disgrace of crossing blades with Vincent, igniting the bodies—no, the souls of those who could not evade it.

In other words, it was the strike of the “Sun Sword.”

“——”

Just moments ago, he had thought that the aid of that radiant crimson sword was not to be expected.

Therefore, upon witnessing this unlikely help, Vincent blinked in surprise and quickly stole a glance at the individual standing back-to-back with him, frozen in awe.

It was a figure he recognized. — Having seen that form in archaic paintings before.

“—The ‘Thorned Emperor’?”

“The Emperor’s crown has already passed to the next generation; it belongs to you now. It would be absurd for me to call myself the ‘Thorned Emperor.’ — I am Yugaldo Volakia.”

“——”

“Hmm. You possess a clever and refined appearance. Thinking back, I have never seen the faces of my children or descendants up close. If possible, I would like to exchange many words and gaze upon your visage for a lengthy time.”

Having heard those words, Vincent fell silent in front of the figure who identified himself as Yugaldo Volakia.

The serene aura he radiated, his eyes and skin bearing the vitality of reason, set him apart from the countless undead seen before. Why did he not exhibit the hostility inherent in all souls or the appearance of one deprived of free will?

“It is my love for the stars.”

“What?”

“I had thought you sought to learn the answer for my presence, but I must have been mistaken?”

For a brief moment, Vincent attempted to decipher the true meaning behind the words, but soon abandoned that thought.

Reconsidering, if Yugaldo Volakia were truly the individual depicted in the ancient tale of “Iris and the Thorned King,” it would be foolish to doubt such whimsical pronouncements.

Thus――

“The reigning Volakia Emperor, Vincent Volakia.”

“I acknowledge that. Then, let us proceed. — My sons.”

In response to Vincent’s introduction, Yugaldo replied, and the two emperors stood side by side.

It was an impossible union for two wolf warriors, sharing the bond established through the iron laws of the Volakia Empire and succeeding one another in death.

△▼△▼△▼△

— A fierce struggle determining the world’s fate continued in the Imperial Capital Rupugana.

The battles between superlatives engaged in the clashes for the peaks reached conclusions one after another, with both the living and the dead camps exhausting their best efforts, where some fell and others surged forward.

As if mocking the fierce efforts of each individual, two calamities sought to erase everything — a stellar brilliance plummeted, severed by a swordsman unwilling to release his dreams, while the flames of destruction, conjured from countless spirits’ lives, were halted by the boy defying fate and his supporting comrades.

It could be said that the prevention of both calamities was the greatest result achieved through their fullest exertion.

However, in the midst of the severed starlight, and at a moment where the flames of destruction were extinguished, the greatest contributors to the living’s battle situation were neither of those aforementioned.

They were the one who took a solitary path to thwart the next move of the “Great Calamity,” unnoticed by all or even if they got noticed, unheeded:

“—Damn it, making this old man work too hard!”

Grumblingly, the short figure of the Malicious Old Man, Orubaru Dunkuken, bounced into action.

The bizarre movement of the ancient old man, leader of the Shinobi, aimed towards the spellcaster guarding the red blood magic circle drawn at the end of the corridor.

The spellcaster faced towards Orubaru, and the surrounding walls and floor began to overflow with black filth, roaring as it tried to bind the old man’s arms and legs with chains —

“I’ve been on this road for ninety years, you see?”

Before the chains could reach him, Orubaru swung his right arm — lacking an elbow downwards — powerfully and flung kunai from within the seemingly empty sleeve.

That kunai rapidly plunged into the spellcaster’s forehead, bouncing them off towards the wall’s magic circle. Immediately after, Orubaru’s left palm struck through both the spellcaster and the magic circle like it was made of paper.

The pinnacle of martial arts honed since his childhood shattered both the spellcaster and the magic circle into a fine powder.

He had been strictly ordered not to kill more undead than necessary, but beings like the spellcaster who toyed with souls were exceptions to that rule.

The spellcaster guarding the magic circle, having dealt with versions of about ten already, muttered —

“— At last, it has unraveled.”

Feeling the change in the air through his withered skin, Orubaru whispered.

In the castle of the Crystal Palace, where the bizarre atmosphere had proliferated, he realized that the odd situation, which had transformed the familiar castle structure into an unknown magical palace, had come undone.

Doors that were meant to connect had not connected, thus failing to deliver folks to their desired destinations — whether it was an illusion or magic that distorted space — whichever it may be —

“Well then, this finishes my work… Wait, wait, this seems bad, huh?”

Just as one disaster seemed to pass, another followed closely, and Orubaru grimaced.

It appeared the twist in space had resolved itself, and the next strange occurrence within the Crystal Palace was rather blatant. — The entire castle began to hum with a strong wave of mana: the Magical Crystal Cannon had been activated.

“Damn, Moguro, you need to hold out just a little bit longer!”

With the vibration of the activated Magical Crystal Cannon, Orubaru grumbled about Moguro Hagane — the “Steel Man,” who was at the core of the Crystal Palace.

Until now, brave Moguro had likely been enduring to prevent the Magical Crystal Cannon from being used by the “Great Calamity.” However, it seemed that breakthrough had finally been achieved.

Allowing the Magical Crystal Cannon to be used as the enemy’s weapon was extremely dangerous.

“If Garukura becomes the target, it won’t be just a joke.”

The “Castle City,” which should have been fielding an enormous army while risking the survival of the empire, had robust defensive walls essential for the battle. If the Magical Crystal Cannon were to obliterate them, the momentum would dramatically shift, leading to the city’s annihilation.

That would mean the Volakia Empire would incur irreparable damage.

Even if Orubaru and the others managed to bring down the principal figure of the “Great Calamity,” losing all the personnel currently in the Castle City would make it impossible to rebuild the empire. — This would signify the end of the Volakia Empire.

— Orubaru Dunkuken harbored ambition.

As a shinobi leader tasked with operating behind the veil of history, he wished to mark his name grandly upon the empire’s recorded tale, completely shattering the very foundation of the shinobi way he had devoted his life to.

In pursuit of that ambition, he was often tempted by the allure of flashy schemes such as a coup against the Emperor or assassination; however, with the appearance of the “Great Calamity,” it felt like he had missed his timing to betray. But now, that very moment had arrived.

If the Magical Crystal Cannon were employed in a manner that secured the victory for the “Great Calamity,” then Orubaru would pursue his ambition not as the “General” of the empire, but merely as a shinobi.

No matter what the “Great Calamity” aimed for, he would gallantly rush to Vincent’s side, snatch the victory, and fulfill his personal ambition.

Thus――

“—This shall be my final act of betrayal.”

Rushing up quickly through the unbound castle space, Orubaru reached the Magical Crystal Cannon’s platform. He barely witnessed the released pulse of destruction engulfing the great hole opened in the sky.

Were the Magical Crystal Cannon to secure the downfall of the empire, he would have betrayed it without regret.

Yet, it did not happen.

“Haha! That little brat isn’t causing trouble just in the Magic City but here too, huh?! Kids nowadays have zero regard for respect for the elderly!”

Orubaru burst into laughter at the sight of the black-haired boy and the small spirit he saw in the distance.

With this, Orubaru had now been outmaneuvered by the boy for the second time, in conjunction with the Chaos Frame. However, he felt no anger or hatred towards that occurrence.

As you grow older, it’s easy to wane into acceptance of many things — it wasn’t that reason. Orubaru was one who struggled to accept, thus he just conceded defeat, rather than yielding.

“If the opponent outweighs me, there’s no reason to complain, right?”

Having lived nearly a century, the dreams Orubaru could not fulfill were countless. Naturally, there were many he accomplished through sheer force. That was simply the way of things.

Hence, Orubaru relinquished the grand ambition of assassinating the Emperor, which would leave a mark on history — a ludicrous act reminiscent of the werewolf that killed Iris in the “Iris and the Thorned King.”

Thus, letting go of that tragedy, his empty left hand shaped into a slice —

“—Then, won’t you accompany me in the next dream of a hero to save the country?”

“——”

As Orubaru spoke lowly, there stood a white-haired woman close to the gun barrel.

In the highest realm of the Crystal Palace, after just launching the flames of destruction, a torrential surge of mana lashed around, creating a tumult that assaulted the five senses to no end.

At the epicenter, the pedestal fitted with the magical core of the Magical Crystal Cannon, made from various sizes of magical crystals, the white woman placed her hand atop it, smiling.

And then――

“It is undesirable for you to be here. — Necessary, elimination.”

“You mustn’t, Orubaru. The opponent is a ‘Witch.'”

As the woman beaming with a smile — the “Witch” began to swirl black winds around her, the magical core itself spoke, warning them with Moguro’s voice.

Responding to that obvious warning from the “Steel Man,” Orubaru contested,

“I already know that without being told. — Even at this age, I’m not senile!”

Kicking the ground, the Malicious Old Man ended his dream — and, in doing so, began to delay the demise of the empire that should have played out this very moment.

△▼△▼△▼△

“Don’t you dare think you can make me! — It’s fate, huh? Bring it on!!”

Beatrice’s Al Shamak, embracing her tightly, launched the blast emitted by the Magical Crystal Cannon far into the distance.

Feeling the power being drawn from within herself, Subaru, nonetheless, held an unfounded confidence that Beatrice’s reckless endeavor could indeed be sustained.

— No, now that they had succeeded, it could actually be considered an evidence-based assurance.

“Probably, it’s the power of the bonds!”

Assuming burdens and sharing them, Subaru’s “Cor Leonis” remained connected to everyone from the “Pleiades Battalion,” who were far apart.

In effect, raising the collective strength of everyone at once while also giving a nudge to anyone who seemed left behind, and pushing them to run together as well was the true power of, “One for all, and all for one.”

Most likely, fairly assured, this moment had put a significant load on everyone fighting back in the “Castle City,” but he desperately wanted to believe it would be alright.

Regardless of that—

“The fact that we managed to stop that is a big deal!”

“Yeah! I thought it was targeting Garukura, but…”

Upon witnessing the closing hole in the sky, Beatrice raised her voice, to which Subaru responded.

In their desperate wish to stop the Magical Crystal Cannon, Subaru and his comrades had thrust themselves into the cannon’s line of fire, yet they had all presumed it would be targeting the “Castle City.”

Despite what it may have once been, instilling a dire blow to the “Castle City,” now embroiled in this century’s battle of wits, was their greatest fear.

However, after having actually managed to halt it, the Magical Crystal Cannon had aimed instead toward the south of the Imperial Capital.

“There’s no way they’d make a pointless move. There has to be intention behind this.”

“—That troublesome someone in the south must be targeting Garfiel!”

“Of course our Garfiel is a proud younger brother, deserving to be displayed anywhere…”

Positioned at the southernmost point of the Imperial Capital, the “Cloud Dragon” Mezoleia had been assigned the role of overseeing the widest range and had been entrusted with the annihilation of Garfiel.

To be honest, it went beyond impossible; it was absurd. Yet, it was a role no one could entrust to anyone other than Garfiel, considering the critical importance of what they were up against.

The notion that the opponent had targeted Garfiel was one that couldn’t be dismissed easily.

“But who fired? After defeating Sphinx, who’s in charge now?”

“…The resurrected Emperor of Volakia seems suspicious.”

“Please don’t give me more reasons to want to abandon the empire at this point!”

Having thought they defeated Sphinx, discovering that past Volakia Emperors might ascend as the last boss was something Subaru wished to avoid.

For starters, if such a pattern were permitted, there would be no end to how many Emperors they’d have to take down.

“However, I distinctly felt intentions behind the recent attack scheme. Therefore…”

“—Beatrice!”

With her drill twin-tails swaying in free fall, Beatrice spoke to a wide-eyed Subaru, forcibly spinning her around by squeezing her fluffy cheeks with both hands, causing her to squeal, “Nnnya!”

In Subaru and Beatrice’s gaze, the towering silhouette cutting through the air at high speed, was the three-headed demon dragon they had encountered and once fallen to Haribel amidst the Dragon Carriage.

The three heads of the demon dragon with six pairs of golden eyes locked onto Subaru and Beatrice, roaring out.

“「「「――――ッッ」」」”

“This is bad! We can’t move!”

“—! It’s coming!”

Having their sights directed with overt hostility, Subaru and Beatrice braced themselves.

Facing the demon dragon, who could freely soar through the skies, they were in free fall, locked in each other’s embrace, feeling utterly lost, separated from Spica, Haribel, and Abel.

“—”

As his thoughts flared, time slowed, and Subaru racked his brain, desperately flipping through his options.

The choices dwindle down painfully. The next restart point for “Return by Death” remained unconfirmed. There were no allies to summon. He could attempt only one move, be it magic or an ability.

In that fleeting moment of inspiration, he pulled Beatrice closer to ask —

“—You can’t fly freely like me, right? Please don’t stress me out!”

In an instant, an incredulous smirk swept across the faces of Subaru and Beatrice.

Precisely one second later, the breath released by the demon dragon swept through the air ferociously. Yet, with just enough timing, Subaru and Beatrice executed a near-miraculous evasion, eliciting a spark of joy at the sensation of a delicate arm that had sent them just out of harm’s way.

“—Nice timing, Roswaal!”

“What a humiliation! I won’t allow this kind of handling, Betty!”

“Ohoho, such wildly contrasting reactions on either side.”

With a knowing grin at the sharply opposing responses from Subaru and Beatrice, Roswaal floated in the air.

Like Garfiel and Haribel, he was tasked with conquering the peaks of the Imperial Capital, employing his magic for free, teasing and misleading the three-headed demon dragon, Barglen.

Amidst what was undoubtedly an aerial battle, Roswaal turned his gaze toward Subaru and Beatrice.

“Thank you for stopping the Magical Crystal Cannon. What’s the situation?”

“Sphinx is defeated! We’ve begun the fortress’s invasion, where the source of the undead lies! The purpose of the Magical Crystal Cannon remains unknown!”

“Direct and to the point. …I see, you’ve brought down Sphinx. I’m grateful yet feel sorry for it…”

“—? Is there something bothering you or a complaint?”

Grimacing at Subaru’s report, Roswaal clouded his expression, hesitating to form a response.

Beatrice’s heavy gaze was usual as she scrutinized Roswaal, but her suspicion this time wasn’t their usual banter. Subaru registered unease at the pensive expression on Roswaal’s face.

Roswaal, upon noticing their watchful eyes, replaced “no” and continued,

“That one has faced demise once before. Though I hesitate to admit it, the dedication and foresight necessary to accomplish their ends likely match my own. — I still can’t grasp my certainty.”

“—. That man, bringing my name into it, leaves Betty feeling uneasy….”

“Of course, I can’t say we’ve defeated him yet. Just, if one constructs plans that would fail merely due to their own death, he could have remained a world enemy for over three hundred years.”

Subaru couldn’t dismiss Roswaal’s concerning speculation as pessimism.

What he claimed seemed to hold true: if the “Witch” Sphinx had merely been a trivial foe, the Volakia Empire would never have come close to utter ruin.

Indeed, the Magical Crystal Cannon they had halted had only been launched after Sphinx had fallen.

There was still a fear that the “Witch” was plotting further to annihilate the empire.

“Then we’ll smash all of that. For the time being…”

“Let’s swiftly send that loud dragon, who’s three times noisier than your run-of-the-mill dragon, out of the arena! Fly sharply, Roswaal!”

With Beatrice’s encouragement, Roswaal chuckled reluctantly — thus, the airborne battle against the demon dragon commenced.

△▼△▼△▼△

— Vincent and Yugaldo, two emperors of Volakia who would never normally lean on one another, engaged in a sword dance, with fiery crimson sword flashes whipping about like a fierce storm.

“Remarkable…”

Tanzer murmured in awe, dazed by the radiant spectacle that felt as if it were searing his eyes.

Having sensed the battle’s atmosphere from the direction of the Crystal Palace, Yugaldo had taken the initial lead, and as Tanzer, who was holding hands with Yorna, caught up, the cooperation of the two emperors had already begun.

Illuminated by the brilliance of the flashing “Sun Sword,” the undead being charred together, all seemed well-seasoned warriors, showing that they bore strength comparable to that of the undead called Rouan.

However, the whirling red wind drove them back, overwhelmed by the seamless cooperation where words and glances were shared among Yugaldo and others.

“…It’s the first time I’ve witnessed His Excellency wielding a sword alongside someone.”

Yorna, who was gazing at the same scene as Tanzer, casually let that slip.

The complexity of that sentiment was beyond Tanzer’s comprehension. — The trembling in Yorna’s eyes and voice, everything said was crafted during the years that shaped their bond.

He was uncertain about the specifics regarding that relationship.

Yet, he comprehended that Yorna shared an affectionate bond with Yugaldo, which pointed toward a reason more profound than mere longevity.

The unseen bonds that Tanzer couldn’t comprehend made Yugaldo feel subordinate to him.

“I care for both Tanzer and His Excellency. They are both precious to me, each held dear in different ways.”

“Oh…”

The anxiety that slid into Tanzer’s chest was noticeable to Yorna, causing him to wish to turn his head away.

However, relying on the feel of the hands he held and the reason he stood here, he resolved not to wallow in pity or misery any longer.

He had to keep his face up.

That was the commonality he noticed among all the remarkable people he had encountered until now.

“—”

With a firm bite of his teeth, Tanzer honed in on his nerves.

Having suffered wounding scars in the dreadful skirmish against Rouan, he bore the responsibility to protect the not-so-healthy Yorna. He could not lean on Yugaldo, who was in the middle of battle, nor could he on Emilia, with whom they had diverged along the way.

Thus, to weave himself into their unfolding engagement would be reckless; hence, all Tanzer could facilitate was to promptly perceive surrounding unusual happenings…

“—Yorna! Look there!”

That vigilance bore fruit.

With wide eyes, Tanzer pointed to the highest layer of the Crystal Palace with the hand not connected to Yorna’s. Yorna followed his gaze, locking eyes onto a half-spherical tower close to the apex of the Crystal Palace. Tanzer was unaware, but it contained the cannon platform for the Magical Crystal Cannon —

The tower began to glow from within, and in the next instant, a deafening blast resounded as the wall exploded outward. The tower shattered spectacularly, scattering the bits of the fortress, which made Tanzer blink in disbelief.

Then from the densely rising smoke emerged a small shadow —

“Orubaru-san?”

Yorna’s voice, a touch taken aback, surmised the evidence of surprise at having seen such a figure.

Slowly, traversing the broken wall, Orubaru revealed himself, but not as his usual indifferent, light-hearted ancient guise; he appeared battered, dressed in blood-stained attire.

As he identified the figures before him, the living, Orubaru cried out —

“Your Excellency! We’re in trouble! The ‘Witch’s’ traps haven’t been concluded yet!”

Thus, the odd impression gathered weight to emphasize Orubaru’s desperate shout.

△▼△▼△▼△

And at the same moment Orubaru cried out, soaked in blood-stained robes — with regret for taking an impromptu course of action based purely on intuition, Emilia stood there.

After earnest deep contemplation on what the best course of action would be, going against Subaru’s and Abel’s held beliefs, it was a monumental decision to choose to pursue independent action alongside Tanzer and Yorna.

“If it’s just a misunderstanding based on my intuition, I must hurry back to Tanzer and the others….”

Pursuing that slight unease and shift in the atmosphere, Emilia dashed not towards the Crystal Palace but toward the direction further north.

And there, she found someone who should not have been present.

In the absence of any negative intention in merely being there, she shouldn’t leap to conclusions about wrongdoing. But this individual was the exception.

After all —

“I’m so super surprised. — Why is Echidna here?”

At Emilia’s call, the white-haired “Witch” turned around.

In a barely-faint hint of surprise amidst her impeccably beautiful features, she responded.

“I believe it is I who find that surprise more appropriate. — ‘Witch of Envy.'”