The wind was blowing.

A particularly strong gust whipped through, causing the hair and hems of the two facing each other to flap violently.

The location was a desolate grassland on the outskirts of the “Sanctuary,” near the hideout where the young Garfiel and Frederica used to live, completely empty with nothing around.

There were no houses in sight, and even if there were, the likelihood of anyone passing by was nonexistent. By now, the residents of the “Sanctuary” should all be gathered at the graveyard, waiting for the results of the “Trial.”

Encouraging Emilia as she emerged from the graveyard and desiring to clear out people, Ram based her actions on practicalities.

“Obsession, huh?”

Remorse for using Emilia as a pawn flickered in the back of Ram’s mind as she was pulled back to reality, watching Roswaal’s lips stretch into a smile before her.

Roswaal let his long blue hair flow behind him, winking at Ram with his yellow gaze.

“It’s quite sad to hear you say that when you know my feelings and objectives.”

“I just didn’t say it out loud, but I’ve always thought that. Naturally.”

“Naturally… Well, from your perspective, those were long days of laid-down humiliation.”

“——-”

Ram averted her eyes, responding silently to Roswaal’s nonchalant shrug.

She had faintly grasped what he meant. Of course. Ram had been watching Roswaal all along. She understood painfully well how he perceived her loyalty, being the one most faithful to her own feelings.

“So, the first thing you did after breaking free from the noose of the contract was to disrupt my plans. Helping Subaru-kun and joining in the bashing of Garfiel was also part of that, wasn’t it?”

“That served two purposes: fulfilling Ram’s objective and correcting Garf’s foolishness. …Without Ram, those guys wouldn’t have done a thing.”

“It ended up going smoothly, I must admit. In situations where many important things are at stake, Subaru-kun takes quite a naive gamble. …I could never do anything as reckless as gambling for something so very important.”

It was a sarcastic jab at Subaru’s decision, wielding it like a bureaucratic logic.

Indeed, there was little to deny in Roswaal’s statement. Most of Subaru’s actions were hit-or-miss, and fortune favored them in connection with Garfiel, with Ram’s cooperation.

Ram’s assessment—that he was merely a fortunate man—had not changed one bit.

On the other hand, Roswaal’s thinking was outstanding if only considering the achievement of objectives. It should be noted, however, that this was as long as “the Gospel is trustworthy.”

“You can’t gamble… The emphasis on certainty is reflected in the Gospel, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. But I get the feeling you don’t trust this, and you must have resented it for quite a while. That can’t be helped. From your perspective, you probably hoped with all your might for the day to arrive when you could break free of its pages, sooner rather than later.”

“…I can’t deny that.”

There was no way she could.

It was true that Ram had resented the Gospel. However, the reasons for that differed significantly from Roswaal’s understanding.

Despite not showing it, Ram was unbearably sad about that.

“Do you remember? The contract we made through the Gospel between you and me.”

“As long as the contents recorded in Roswaal-sama’s Gospel etch history in this world, I will serve Lord Roswaal with my life. In exchange…”

“If the time flows devoid of the Gospel, my purpose will falter. If I lose sight of my goal, I have no reason to live. If that husk is acceptable to you, feel free to do as you wish.”

“To keep me alive or let me die relies on Ram.”

“That was the contract.”

Recalling a contract they should never forget, Roswaal withdrew a black book from his pocket.

He cradled the thick-bound book carefully, brushing its cover as he let out a sigh.

“For you, it must have truly been a long and painful time.”

“——-”

“After all… You had to swear loyalty to the very man who was a cause for the destruction of your homeland. Despite your wishes, being with me must have fueled a heart full of longing… How painful that must have been. I regret not being able to take this personally.”

With malicious intent, Roswaal toyed with words to wound Ram.

A cause for the destruction of her homeland—hearing that from Roswaal sent pain surging through Ram like memories of her burning homeland and family.

Among the subhuman races, hers was small in number yet wielded powerful abilities: the “Oni” tribe.

Gathered in small clusters, her kind lived in secluded villages deep within the mountains, but in one night, they were annihilated by flames and blades, leaving only Ram and “——-” behind.

She had signed a contract with Roswaal to survive as she stared blankly at the burnt-out village in the early morning light.

To live, Ram accepted the contract.

“——-” knew nothing, and Ram said nothing to “——-.”

“——-?”

Feeling a slight ache in her head, Ram furrowed her brows at an inexplicable sense of discomfort.

It felt like there was an unnatural blank in the revived memories. Something essential was missing, yet it had been forcibly covered over with a lie, creating a deceptive pretense.

Without that aspect, Ram’s memories wouldn’t hold together.

“The conflicting emotions of unacknowledged affection and the vengeance that simmered in my heart. Even while wrestling with those opposing sentiments, you were indeed a very competent pawn. I valued your obedient compliance greatly, as it traced the Gospel’s contents.”

“…………”

While Ram attempted to probe the discomfort in her memories, Roswaal continued his tale.

Now was not the time, so she paused her search for the void and turned to face Roswaal, who was sweetly praising her long-standing loyalty.

Yet, amid his sideways glance at her, slowly another emotion began to wiggle in.

“And you, surprisingly, betray me and side with Subaru-kun. Can you gauge how much heartache this caused me?”

“…I am not going against the contract. If you advanced to a world differing from the Gospel’s records, then Ram follows her heart, not your words. If that contract had been violated, Ram would not remain unscathed.”

Placing her hand over her chest, Ram asserted the validity of her actions.

The contract between Roswaal and Ram was, of course, not just a verbal agreement.

It was something formal, with the markings of the contract etched into their very souls. If broken, it would incur appropriate penalties. As long as it hadn’t activated, Ram’s soul hadn’t breached the contract.

However, upon hearing Ram’s answer, Roswaal shook his head emphatically.

“That’s precisely it. In this situation, the penalties that should have been activated for breaching the contract have clearly failed to materialize… Your soul undoubtedly believes it is abiding by the contract. I find that conclusion tragically disappointing.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It’s a simple thing. —The contents of the Gospel have not yet deviated. The true disconnection of the contract between you and me is yet to come.”

Lowering his tone, Roswaal stated firmly as he reflected his mismatched eyes upon Ram.

Usually expressionless, Ram’s face subtly tensed at his statement. The circumstances acknowledged by her own contract markings were overwhelmingly at odds with the contents she had heard.

Despite laying down these conditions, Roswaal’s heart adamantly refused to yield.

“It hasn’t deviated from the records…? Balus challenging the graveyard to free the ‘Sanctuary’ and Emilia’s snowy descent here—none of that has happened. To still claim it hasn’t deviated, how could you, Roswaal… What has happened?”

“Nothing at all. It is as it has always been. Indeed, the contents you just mentioned have yet to be fulfilled… but still, it is unknown.”

“That scenario is inconceivable. Balus will leave the ‘Sanctuary,’ and Emilia will conquer the ‘Trial’ completely. There’s no way the narrative could stabilize from here… Wouldn’t that just be the folly of a stubborn child or a futile struggle?”

“A child’s stubbornness, while I could deny as an adult, I cannot deny the notion of a futile struggle. Indeed, this is a futile struggle. —For over four hundred years, it’s been a relentless, unyielding struggle.”

Roswaal seemed to embrace denial, affirming his plight as a “futile struggle.”

He laughed deeply, banging his knee in delight as he twisted in ecstatic madness.

“A futile struggle! Yes, a masterpiece! Could there be a word to express my obsession more accurately than this? Nope, not a chance! A futile struggle… a futile struggle… ahaha, how delightful. I never even thought of this!”

“Lord Roswaal!”

“A futile struggle clinging to obsession, and a servant’s vengeance swapped for loyalty. The way you and I are entwined is indeed twisted and comical. But regardless of being dubbed a futile struggle, my will remains unchanged. Your actions are clearly premature.”

Wiping the glee from his face, Roswaal presented the Gospel to Ram, holding it aloft.

“To whatever you think, the contract remains unbroken. Until the daughter overcomes the ‘Trial’ of the graveyard, the account of Natsuki Subaru freeing the ‘Sanctuary’ remains.”

“——-”

“Even if she doesn’t unleash the snow, if I create it, that won’t deviate from the records.”

“——-”

“Even if you demand the exercise of the contract’s contents, I would likewise insist on upholding the contract’s contents. Therefore, we remain at odds. Your chance for revenge is still not ripe.”

Nonchalantly tossing the book he had been holding, Roswaal stowed it away in his cloak with his other hand. Then, from his outstretched right arm, dazzling flames began to swirl.

The flames shifted in color—red, blue, green—while Roswaal narrowed his eyes.

“Without breaking the employment conditions, you punish a hasty servant. If you really were assured the Gospel and world had deviated, then waiting just two more days would suffice. I would have willingly offered my body to you without resistance. …Being impatient is not a good thing.”

With an air of lamentation, he shook his head, and then continued, “But, I can’t deny your eagerness to annihilate me as swiftly as possible.”

“…It seems you still don’t grasp the situation at all.”

“——-?”

With a cynical smile curved across Roswaal’s face, Ram weakly murmured, closing her eyes.

Behind her eyelids, a tumult of complicated feelings brewed that she could never display in front of anyone. By shutting her eyes, Ram showed only herself the way she swore never to reveal her lived life to anyone.

Raising her head, she concentrated mana at the tip of the staff she had previously kept aimed.

“It has no meaning to fulfill the contract after you have been sacrificed. There is no meaning after you break.”

“—Come.”

“As you wish.”

—The clash of flamboyant flames and the colorless blade of wind collided.

The heatwave spread throughout the “Sanctuary” that belonged to just the two of them, and the unbalanced dance between a demon and a magical being began.

***

The moment the “Trial” commenced, Emilia instantaneously sensed it.

A loss of the five senses, and the loss of the concept of her own flesh body.

The organs that should perceive the world slipped out of her control, leaving just her consciousness adrift into a disorienting space—she was now a mere existence of the soul.

This was fundamentally distinct from the previous “Trials.”

“———”

She couldn’t make a sound.

Without a mouth or eyes, it felt strange to still recognize the world.

No, even expressing it as recognizing the world was too assertive; it hadn’t yet taken a solid form whereby she could declare it as the world.

In that darkness, only Emilia’s consciousness floated unanchored.

Yet, she could still remain grounded because of the multitude of lights dotting that darkness.

Beautifully colored, soft lights.

Those resembled the sparkle emitted by tiny spirits, but their presence was categorically different from that of beings with life.

The delicateness of their colors and similarity to the spirits aside, they likely were much closer to the material glow of magical ore.

Regardless, thanks to those lights twinkling around Emilia’s consciousness, she could feel she hadn’t lost touch with the world.

“——-”

Surrounded by light, Emilia felt relieved that she had not been abandoned, but increasingly perplexed by the stillness of the situation.

The hazy lights remained unchanged, and no noticeable transformations began to unfold around her. In the previous “Trials,” Echidna had at least explained what would happen first, but this time, she had not appeared to guide her at all.

Only time passed aimlessly—though she couldn’t discern how much the concept of time differed between the graveyard’s insides and outsides, it was evident that lingering idly would bear no fruit.

“——-?”

I must do something, Emilia hoped her consciousness would inspire change.

At that instant, Emilia’s consciousness, which had been fixed in one place, realized it could move, able to reach a position where it could possibly connect with one of the surrounding lights.

Though lacking a physical body, it felt peculiar to think of making contact with that light.

However, she couldn’t express it any other way. Perhaps in her current state, her eye was merely unseeing and her corporeal essence was exposed as elements of magical energy—Od.

If her consciousness and soul resided within Od, it explained some aspects of her current status.

Upon arriving at some degree of understanding, Emilia affirmed herself and moved towards one of the lights.

The scattered lights numbered no less than twenty. With no particular reason, Emilia allowed her consciousness to reach towards a softly glowing silver light.

And as her essence brushed against the light—she could see.

“I hate you, I hate you, I loathe you. I really do. Everything, it’s all true. From the first time I met you—I have despised you endlessly.”

“——-!?”

Immediately after hearing that voice, an intense primordial scene invaded her consciousness.

An excessively large sun, a scorched wasteland, the towering remnants of a massive structure stood nearby, and a woman with bloodied silver hair stood bathing in the crimson light—Emilia.

A version of herself she had just witnessed, now grown.

She bore a profoundly sorrowful expression, hurling words at someone before the ruins.

“I thought about it many times, and denied it just as often… But I must admit, I’ve been caught up in a nightmare. So, I will say this.”

“——-”

“Perhaps we should never have met.”

A single tear trickled down the corner of her purple eyes.

As it slid down her cheek, right before the droplet fell to the ground, the world shattered in a brilliant flash.

“——-!”

She gasped. Such finesse could hardly be managed by mere magical energy.

What Emilia could do was merely bear witness to the scene before her.

What was that light? What had she just seen?

That had undoubtedly been Emilia, yet the present Emilia bore no recollection of it. Could it be that was also an unreal sight, like the second “Trial”?

“——-”

No, Emilia thought differently.

Calming her chaotic consciousness, she groped through her memories, reflecting.

When confronted with this Third “Trial,” words that should have resounded in the graveyard in her mind came drifting back.

“First, confront your past. Look upon the impossible now.”

And correlated to those, the words for the third. It was certain:

“Confront the impending calamity.”

Impending calamity—that was, presumably, the future.

Looking upon the past and now, and finally, looking upon the future.

That could be the trial intended to show those who challenge the separate world named “Trial.”

If so, was the current scene also the future that awaited Emilia?

Regrets shared with a meeting of someone while crying in a place where everything had iterated into twilight—such a sight.

“——-”

Throwing off her anxiety with feelings of denial, Emilia’s consciousness regained its calm demeanor.

Yet, once again, after re-recognizing the dark void, another tumult sparked anew.

The silver light she had brushed against moments ago had vanished.

In the place where light should’ve shone was now a void, with the light missing. Emilia, perplexed by this occurrence, soon realized.

If each of the surrounding lights provided a glimpse of a future to come, Emilia’s consciousness should not be liberated until she had touched every one of those futures.

—If this was the “Trial,” then after witnessing these multitudes of futures, she would surely be made to choose something. If Echidna were to wait, it would be in that location.

Meaning—Emilia had to confront no fewer than twenty futures.

“——-”

Were they all different futures, or fragments of the same future unfolding?

Emilia began extending her awareness towards the neighboring light while feeling an illusion of her nonexistent heart collapsing.

The next light, reminiscent of an ocean-like depth—

“You’re right. That child is our enemy, and the wounds run deep. Even if we withdrew here, with you and I unable to cure those wounds, we might have been helpless.”

“Then…”

“But that child was still a kid. —Isn’t that enough?”

Once again, the scenery of the world shifted.

This time, two figures stood at the edge of a steep cliff set against a backdrop of a deep forest.

Their faces were obscured. However, both voices rang with familiar echoes.

One was all too familiar, while the other was familiar enough, without being as close.

The two were confronting the cliff; one knelt while the other looked down at their kneeling counterpart. Both, it seemed to Emilia, wore terribly gloomy expressions.

“You… You are a hero. There is no other way to be…!”

“I…”

“Thank you for saving me!!”

A shadow turning away, one figure thanked the other, extending their hand.

There, between the two figures, sounded a parting laced with resolute finality.

Difficult grief was spread out, accompanied only by despair as the farewell echoed.

As the world blurred again, Emilia’s consciousness returned once more to the dark void.

“——-”

In the present world, Emilia’s existence was nowhere to be found.

Though she surmised that the two figures were undoubtedly people she knew, the absence of herself in that scene felt deeply off.

The future seemed to beckon her toward the light.

So then, what did it mean that her figure was not present in that future, or perhaps that she was being shown a scenario devoid of herself?

—Were these glimpses of the futures surrounding her as a result of her choices?

If so, might that recent image be a snippet of a real possible future?

Not just of herself, but of the changes born from the consequences of her choices—those too, would be compelled to witness.

“——-”

The blue light vanished, similar to the previous silver one.

Still remaining around Emilia were yet more than twenty lights.

—Each one of them bore the weight of choice.

Understanding that, Emilia extended her consciousness to witness the consequences of her choices.

The next future, then the next future, awaited Emilia’s choice.

***

Swinging her staff, she conjured and released a gusting blade of wind.

The gale she unleashed targeted the legs of her opponent, a colorless, soundless assassin called Kamaitachi.

“This much, huh?”

However, that unnoticed attack was easily dodged by Roswaal with a light leap.

Naturally. As the head of the prestigious Meiastars family and an unparalleled magician well-versed in all six elements, it was child’s play for Roswaal to read others’ mana. For him, the wind magic called invisible blades could be seen with the ease of firing arrows in the dark.

“A payback.”

Three flames of different colors rained down towards Ram with a flick of Roswaal’s wrist.

Red flames, blue flames, green flames—each one of them homed in on Ram with harrowing tenacity as she retreated backwards. While running in reverse, Ram took a deep breath and released her mana. The winds formed blades to intercept the three flames, but instead of simply canceling each other out, the flames responded differently upon impact.

“—!?”

The red flame surged dangerously, erupting into a pillar of fire the moment it was struck by the wind.

In contrast, the blue flame was effortlessly cleaved by the wind, scattering its force in all directions.

The green flame, after being mixed with the wind, transformed into a green serpent of flame that wound its way across the ground, stalking Ram.

Ram was forced to avoid the fire pillar, kicked off a sturdy tree while rolling on the ground to evade the serpent’s fangs, and slammed a wind blade onto the flame serpent.

The disintegrating flame serpent scattered apart, the remaining green flames smoldering across various spots in the grasslands.

“Oh my… You’ve taken quite a beating already, and we’ve only exchanged a few spells.”

“Hah… huff…”

“If you think you have a chance to win, I must say you are sorely mistaken. Indeed, I am currently allocating most of my mana to control a large-scale magical formation to manipulate the weather. However… I’m not so careless as to let my guard down.”

While watching Ram, who was panting heavily, surrounded by flames, Roswaal tilted his head.

Once more, three flames manifested, each taking the shape of small fireballs surrounding Roswaal’s body. With each revolution, their number multiplied and increased in speed, swirling around Roswaal until he found himself wrapped within a vortex of three-colored flames.

“Even alone, one of those flames is trouble. Ten of each type—thirty fireballs in total. With your current capabilities, there’s no way you can handle them all, right?”

“———”

“If what you’re planning is to wait for my power to diminish before you resort to this, then assisting in the showdown with Garfiel is the absolute epitome of folly. Even if my strength is waning, if your strength is waning too, it would be meaningless. Just look at the overflowing mana in my body. —You’ve transformed into your demon form, haven’t you?”

At Roswaal’s quiet inquiry, Ram merely matched his gaze, still catching her breath.

Whether she expected an answer or not did not matter; Roswaal shrugged casually.

“If you go demon form without my assistance, that is a foregone conclusion. Challenging me with a body nearly devoid of mana in just one minute of battle means your limits lie close at hand. From a perspective of doing everything to achieve your goal, it’s quite pitiful to behold.”

“Pitiful to behold, you say.”

“Exactly. Behold it, I may say. Earlier, you said it, didn’t you? I said that if the Gospel’s recording deviated completely, or if you waited two days, a conclusion would emerge. At first, I wondered what you were blathering about… But I considered it, and I came to a conclusion.”

Though her breathing was steadying, it didn’t restore her stamina or mana. Roswaal, acknowledging this, took the opportunity to trade words instead of dealing damage.

If she were to become a nuisance, that would be a different story, but Roswaal had no intention of killing Ram.

That nonchalance became a humiliation for Ram.

“Given that your objective is revenge, coming up with an answer is quite simple. Inflicting suffering on me, who has become a shell of a person, will not truly clear your heart. To abandon the chance of surely executing your revenge just to seek revenge against me in my current state only shows that you believe you must triumph over me, who is devoid of purpose.”

“———”

“It’s possible that I have some blame too for making you decide in a pressing scenario while you were still so young. You may have realized that truth only after some time, growing impatient. Thus, you may have hurried into acting, not wishing to let this opportunity pass. …And as you see, here are the results.”

“——ah.”

A small sound slipped from Ram’s throat.

It was a strained exhale, an unintended breath escaping her lips.

Roswaal’s two-toned eyes remained fixed intensely on Ram’s every movement.

Under such scrutiny, Ram reflected upon her half-life thus far.

Above all, she was re-staring at something she always had known, now punctuated once again.

Finding it all too clear, Ram opened her mouth.

She stared up into the sky, mouth agape as she took a deep breath.

“Ahh hah hah hah hah hah—!”

“—Ram?”

It was a reflection.

Recalling Roswaal’s recent hearty laughter ignited her own, prompting Ram to amplify that sense of delight.

The reasons differed entirely from those of Roswaal, but indeed, it was amusing. She could not help but laugh. Naturally. After all, what else could it be.

“Amidst all those iterations and touches, the other party remains entirely ignorant of their feelings.”

Being dull or insensitive—it was no longer merely a matter of degree.

The reality was that he was obstinate. Frozen in place, he resolutely declared it to be impossible, remaining unyielding.

The feelings that began with revenge would not flip to admiration in the passing of time, not in his world.

“Ram was near Lord Roswaal… because it was the contract.”

“Ah, that’s right indeed. At the burnt-out village, you and I swore our allegiance contract. Even with your horns erased, I recall vividly your eyes soaked in fury. So I sealed that in the contract, redirecting your rage towards loyalty. Though I always envisioned days like today would come… ”

“That’s correct. It was true. Ram wanted to kill you. But that opportunity was snatched, and I spent my days in the mansion harboring this inexplicable loyalty… And now.”

“Today, freed from the contract’s noose, you attempt to fulfill the vengeance you harbored back then—”

Closing in on conclusions, Roswaal appeared terribly ridiculous.

It truly seemed that he could perceive nothing beyond his own feelings.

“Ram loves you, Lord Roswaal.”

“———”

“I fell in love with you. Therefore, it has no meaning to receive the broken version of you. That is not the Roswaal-sama that Ram desires.”

Hearing Ram’s answer, Roswaal’s eyes widened in shock.

He was utterly flabbergasted, taken aback as if he truly hadn’t expected this response even an inkling.

He followed up with a headshake, fumbling for words, with trembling lips struggling to form coherent thoughts.

“What is happening to you?”

“What can it be… Am I being mocked? Even at this moment, am I being made the fool? Because it became clear that you cannot reach me by strength, you attempt to stir my heart—”

“Such tricks can never work on Lord Roswaal. Ram is simply speaking her true heart.”

“If that’s the case, then it’s all the more impossible!”

Stomping his foot, Roswaal raised his voice.

In response to his rising emotional turmoil, the fireballs surrounding him fluctuated wildly. They scattered around, leaving trails of flames as he glared at Ram.

“You love me? What are you saying? You must loathe me! You must despise me! A cursed embodiment to you, the man responsible for annihilating your homeland! The truth is you harbored desires to slay me, didn’t you!?”

“At first, yes, but now it’s different. Ram loves you now.”

“This is nonsense! Who would entertain such trivial emotions!?”

Those feelings that stemmed from revenge must remain shackled in revenge.

Feelings that baked into love must have originated solely from love.

Roswaal firmly believed people’s wishes and thoughts never changed.

Thus, he never could wrap his head around the notion that feelings could evolve over time.

To find something charming in that context was fast becoming an unavoidably twisted sentiment.

“Thus, Ram will never make you a mere shell of a person.”

“It…makes no sense. Whatever your feelings may be, or even as you expressed, why then would you clash with me? If the Gospel strayed, I would lose my purpose for living and damage my heart. Knowing that, why!?”

“That’s precisely why this moment is crucial. Balus, Emilia-sama, Garf… Now that they’re all stirring the heart of Roswaal-sama, this is Ram’s once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

The contract binding Ram and Roswaal meant she couldn’t act against him. Yet, her ability to oppose him now was because she felt she had broken free from the obligations set by the contract, and Roswaal highlighted that fact.

But, was it truly accurate? Just because one half perceived it, it meant that they were outside the bounds of the contract? Could such an ambiguous and lax criterion exist within the very framework of a contract system?

For this reason, Ram posited and hoped.

The belief that the Gospel’s contents had deviated, fulfilling the condition for breaking a contract wasn’t held only by Ram. Roswaal too, deep down, realized that fact.

Hence, this was the outcome they faced.

“——-”

Staring at Roswaal’s incredulous face, Ram held her breath and sprang forward.

Withdrawing her staff, she squeezed the remaining mana, forming magic.

“—! That is a futile endeavor!”

As Ram moved, Roswaal ditched his defensive stance and commanded the flaming projectiles to restrain her. Nonetheless, none of the flames struck Ram directly; they whizzed a hair’s breadth away, singeing her skin in violent heat.

Despite now fulfilling the necessary conditions for tracing the future profiled in the Gospel, Ram became a target he couldn’t simply dismiss.

Having failed to comprehend her true intent, Roswaal’s expression shifted.

Perhaps it was due to his sense of value in the existence of Ram; he found it difficult to think of eliminating her.

If so, that alone might even alleviate the dreariness that loomed previously.

“—El, Fuura!!”

The wind’s force converged, unleashing a flash of colorless destruction right before her.

Roswaal braced himself, yet this assault wasn’t directed at him but sought to erupt the ground beneath him, bombarding him with brimming clods of earth to engulf his view.

“What is this wretched distraction!?”

“———-!”

With a moment’s gap, Roswaal pulverized the earthen curtain with a mere flick of his arm.

As the barrier vanished, Ram sharply exhaled, rousing the pressure building on her brow.

“—Ow, ugh!”

A jolt of pain surged through her. Her vision stained crimson, with bloody tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.

Muscles throughout her body cracked and splintered, with sounds echoing through the destruction.

Ignoring it all, she clenched her jaw to the point of fracturing molars against the ground. The earth crumbled beneath her shoes as she, in that moment, pushed beyond the limits of her life.

Leaping forth with unparalleled swiftness, she dived faster than instant cognition itself, arriving before Roswaal.

Roswaal’s eyes opened wide in shock at the appearance of Ram before him, breath hitching as she pressed her palm against his chest.

Such a surge of strength—her demon transformation propelled Ram beyond human limits.

As her ribcage shattered and her insides presented a risk of bursting, Roswaal couldn’t help but realize his misjudgment.

However,

“—What is this?”

At that moment, the expected impact and pain never arrived, leaving Roswaal stupefied.

Ten meters away, Ram skidded to a stop, blood painting the ground beneath her as she knelt down.

Uncomprehending of Ram’s actions, Roswaal furrowed his brow.

But instantly, noticing what Ram held as she crumbled, his expression changed.

“That is…!”

“To Ram, this book is the root of all evil.”

With a fearful expression, Roswaal almost rushed over, but Ram raised her gaze ever so slightly, responding without hesitation as she swung her arm.

—Into the green flames that had lingered in her palm, the Gospel she held hurled forth.

“———!”

A voiceless scream erupted from Roswaal as the unrelenting flames consumed the Gospel, intensifying and crackling. The aged book underwent a metamorphosis into emerald ash.

Ram beheld the scene, smiling as if it was one she had yearned for all along.

“—Finally, with this…”

With a content sigh, a blush flushed Ram’s cheeks.

—In the moments that followed, flames driven by rage pierced through the petite figure of the girl.