“Hey, why the long face? Got something on your mind?”

Just before reaching the Control Tower, Ricardo called out to a knight with a stern profile.

Stopping in his tracks, Julius raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“I’m shocked, Ricardo. I never thought you would show such delicate concern for others’ feelings.”

“Stop trying to gloss over it with petty words. I’m the only one here with ya. The lady ain’t around, so I’ll keep your weak moments a secret every now and then.”

“…I can’t compete with you.”

Though ordinarily he had little opportunity to feel it, Ricardo was surprisingly perceptive of others.

If he weren’t, he couldn’t possibly be the leader of a group called “Iron Fang,” and hearing vague bits of his intense backstory would certainly make one understand. If you don’t pay attention to those around you, you can’t live just for yourself. Whether as a slave or a mercenary, that’s a given.

“Well, that’s the wisdom of age, I suppose! In our camp, I’m counted on to play the dependable father figure. I’m always here for any consultations regarding your prospective son-in-law!”

“That’s quite unexpected. I don’t harbor such unruly thoughts toward Anastasia.”

“I ain’t mentioning the lady! It could be about Mimi, you know. I’ve got plenty of daughters, but you bringing up the lady first takes away any credibility!”

“―――”

Julius gave a wry smile. The graceful motion of him shaking his head looked elegant as ever, yet his choice of words felt lacking in brilliance.

And that sign was—

“The city hall recovery—it’s all feeling off since then. The lady agrees. Though it seems she couldn’t get anything firm out of me, I sure will.”

“You won’t hold back, huh?”

“Of course not! It’s a matter of life and death. I won’t let anyone with doubts get my back. Got some sophisticated reasoning to throw back at me?”

“…No, you’re right. The mistake lies with me. I am indeed plagued by hesitation in what I speak now.”

Nodding frankly at Ricardo’s insight, Julius furrowed his beautifully shaped brows.

Yet, more than that troubled look, no further words emerged. This demeanor made Ricardo impatient, and he snorted unhappily.

“Why so quiet? Got doubts about something? Gotta just voice it. What exactly are you hesitating about?”

“―――”

“Julius!”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how to phrase it just right. —The source of my confusion is, as you know, the Archbishop of Sin I encountered at city hall. He called himself Roy Alphard, who definitely is the ‘Gluttony’ Archbishop. Without question, he is…”

Julius hesitated as he spoke, his yellow eyes filled with confusion.

“Like the other Archbishops, he likely possesses some unfathomable powers of ‘Gluttony.’ The horror of devouring memories and names was hinted at from the white whale’s attacks. But…”

“Julius—!”

As he grazed the core issue, Ricardo’s voice tinged with impatience reached him. What that meant, Julius quickly understood.

—The ground trembled beneath them, sounds faded from the world, and light blazed up into the sky.

The sight of blue auroras piercing the night was undeniable.

That was surely the trace of a strike unleashed by the strongest individual in this world.

“Looks like they’re putting on quite the show. That was definitely one of Reinhardt’s hits, huh?”

“Yeah, it seems that Subaru and the others have come in contact with ‘Greed.’ We can’t afford to fall behind. We must hurry.”

With the attack on the other Archbishop having begun, it wouldn’t be surprising if the rest took retaliatory action all at once; any action could potentially unfold.

Determined to reach the approaching Control Tower, Julius and Ricardo quickened their pace.

“So what’s dubious about ‘Gluttony’? Was that guy just an outrageous monster?!”

Bearing a hefty weapon on his shoulder, Ricardo pressed Julius for details, but Julius merely turned his head to reject that inquiry with a glance.

“No. He may not have shown his full strength, but at the very least, his abilities in ‘Gluttony’ weren’t supernatural enough to pose a problem to us. If you and I teamed up, we could fight him off. —However, the true unsettling nature lies elsewhere.”

“―――”

Julius’s vague answer stemmed from not fully comprehending what was truly unsettling. Not mentioning that during the preceding discussion over the strategy selection was quite an unusual display of Julius’s selfishness.

Although Julius viewed ‘Gluttony’ as an eerie and unpredictable enemy, he still contemplated a future confrontation.

Ricardo couldn’t fathom where his reasoning led.

Even Julius himself couldn’t articulate it clearly.

“―――”

Kicking the cobblestones, they turned a corner on the street. And just as they saw the Control Tower looming, illuminated brightly compared to the surrounding buildings—

“Ahh, I knew you’d come! I really did! Yes, yes, exactly! Just as I expected! You guys made this wait worthwhile!”

Before the entrance of the Control Tower, in a paved square, stood a boy all by himself.

He was clad in tattered rags, his unkempt dark brown hair flowed loosely. His wildly glimmering eyes sparkled with delight, and drool dripped from his bared teeth.

This small figure gave off an utterly pathetic aura, looking just like a homeless child if not for the sinister presence emanating from his entire being.

“I just gotta check. …That’s definitely him, right?”

Ricardo didn’t need to ask who he was referring to. He simply affirmed with a small nod.

Undoubtedly, standing there was the Archbishop of ‘Gluttony.’

The one who devours the memories and names of others—a despicable blasphemer.

“Roy Alphard—”

“Yep, spot on! I’m glad you remembered our names! So happy, so happy! Because of that, let’s feast! Gluttony! It’s worth every bite! So, moreover…”

As his name was called, Alphard grinned wickedly. His gaze shifted directly to Ricardo standing next to Julius.

He opened his tooth-filled mouth, sniffing at them with an ecstatic expression.

“Now you even brought me a delicious little pup. That thoughtfulness really delights me, you know. After all, just having you, Julius Euclius, alone doesn’t keep me satisfied. It lacks flavor, if you catch my drift.”

“I was growing weary of your insults, you know. I wanted to settle things quickly this time, so I brought my friend along. It’s not noble to take on someone with the odds against you…”

“Ah, that’s fine! That little preamble of yours is very Julius of you, but I think it lacks depth. We’re all gourmets here, and you’re one of the least appetizing! Well-polished like that, it’s too neat, you know?”

“Oh really… for all the lavish welcomes, you sure are missing the mark.”

“That can’t be helped! I’m saying it isn’t our true intention—it’s got a bit of a pull to it. It’s got some inconsistency, so let it slide, allow the nature to shine through!”

Waving his hands playfully, Alphard persisted with his taunting demeanor. While Julius remained composed, Ricardo couldn’t conceal his annoyance. He clicked his tongue and cracked his neck.

“Oh ho, you sure talk big, kid. If you think being a brat excuses you, you’re sorely mistaken! The mess you all are making ain’t adorable! We’re way past the point of just a little swat on the behind. I’m about to smash that skull of yours!”

“Ooh, scary scary! Don’t glare at me with that freakish face. If me calling you a pup upset you, I’ll apologize, Ricardo Welkin. You know, we actually admired you a bit! You speak so boldly, without fear or hesitation!”

“――?”

As his name was called, Ricardo frowned and shot a sideways glance at Julius. Julius shook his head in denial.

Something felt off. Though it seemed a mere madman’s ramblings, he couldn’t shake off the oddness lingering behind Alphard’s words. For example—when did he learn Ricardo’s name?

“What a creepy kid… How did you figure out our names?”

“I ain’t doing anything so clever as looking ’em up. We’re just speaking the obvious. Right, Julius-kun?”

“I can’t respond to such a request. I don’t know you as well as you do, so I’ll just consider that one of your tricks to keep me guessing.”

“Look, there you go tossing out conclusions again. Even though you’re all curious, anxious, dissatisfied, and annoyed! Just bottle it up—put yourself on the back burner! That may be a virtue as a knight, but as a human, it’s just dull!”

Unsheathing his knight’s sword, Julius began to quietly whisper something.

In that instant, light surged around him, six colors enveloping his tall figure.

Those were the six semi-spirits that followed Julius.

The fusion of swordsmanship and spirit arts that crowned him the “Greatest Knight.”

“Every feeling of inferiority, the rich texture of failure, that sweet longing for something strong, and the secret fullness you cherish so dearly—you’ve got nothing of that!”

“Ricardo, we’re going all out from the start. Keep pace with me.”

“Right on!”

With a sweep of his arms, two daggers were revealed from the sleeves of Alphard’s robe. Swinging both short blades at him was the way of ‘Gluttony,’ yet they were merely inadequate tools to defend against Julius’s magic or block Ricardo’s strike.

In this match, unless a hidden ace was at play, victory was already assured.

Yet, in Ricardo’s eyes, Alphard’s stance indicated anything but impending defeat.

“Spirit Knight, Julius Euclius!”

With good form, Julius declared his name before initiating the battle.

Meanwhile, Ricardo, hefting his large weapon, had no intention of doing the same. He simply scrutinized Alphard, determined to expose the true nature of his apparent confidence.

Not catching a hint of hesitation from Alphard, he smirked.

“Sure, sure, fine, all’s well, maybe, right? It’s splendid, splendid—that’s right! Because you brought so much for me! Gluttony! Feasting, it’s all worth every bite! And you know…”

“—El Krausell!”

The six colors spun in front of Julius, and from the tip of his sword, an aurora flashed toward Alphard.

A destructive force mixed with several attributes bore down on him in a rainbow-colored arc.

Following closely behind, Ricardo lunged, his great axe slicing through air as he charged in alongside the aurora, ready to shatter Alphard of his potential options.

The clash of a mighty wind and a radiant aurora was before him, and Alphard bared his fangs in a malicious grin.

“Really, brother, you’re just as marvelous as I imagined. We’re just revering your presence, truly.”

※※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※

—Under the moonlight, silvery flashes cleave through the air, sparks flying as swords clash together.

One side of the duel exhibits the brilliant blades of a swordmaster wielding dual swords.

The opposing side faces this swordmaster with a female swordswoman, commanding a flow like that of water to counter.

The gleam of blades dances in the air, the clash of steel resounding like a mix of screams, pleas, and courtship.

How could such a fierce sound evoke that sense? It must be because their swords met in a perfect embrace.

“Shiii!”

Holding her breath, the swordmaster unleashed her double blades in all directions with deft precision.

The arcs of her slashes possessed an artistic quality, and those sharpened strikes represented a climactic point for any swordsman.

For a mere swordsman, simply being captivated by the beauty of the blade could lead to their downfall; yet here, exquisite strikes flowed freely.

“――――”

In a moment, a single blow could inflict a fatal wound amidst a flurry of slices.

Yet, facing this vicious tempest of attacks, the wielder of the longsword displayed skills far beyond what a mere human could possess.

The longsword wielded was bizarrely oversized, impractical for use as a weapon. The blade stretched to match the height of the slender swordswoman. Still, with fluid finesse, she swung that impossibly large sword as if it weighed nothing.

Covered entirely by a hood, limiting her sight and vision, the longsword wielder moved with smooth dexterity as she swayed her weapon.

Even in terms of speed and sharpness, her drawn blade couldn’t hope to measure up against the advancing twin swords. However, they were swallowed up as the swordmaster’s slices were deftly intercepted.

The sharp clang rang repeatedly, and the swordswoman swiftly leaped backward, leading to the swordmaster’s delayed reaction as they stepped forward to follow along—

“Gu, buh!”

“――――”

Just as she attempted her counterattack, the woman’s toes dug hard into the torso.

Driving through the well-toned muscles, her slender leg embedded itself into him, twisting his insides upon impact. As the weight crushed him down, the silver flash found its arc and was raised overhead.

The flash descended with a power that would have split the month itself.

Transitioning from fluent flows like waters into a fierce strike, with a cleaving motion, the swordmaster came down to bisect her opponent.

The force of that singular strike would far surpass any before. Both the wielder’s skill and the sharpness of the blade—each sufficiently qualified to carve through flesh.

Truly, death approached within the blink of an eye.

“Don’t underestimate me!”

Despite being hunched over, both arms skyrocket, crossing the twin blades overhead.

The weight of the blades met the descent of the flexed longsword, shattering the impact as his teeth ground together with might. Unable to hold up, his arms fell, the longsword’s edge barely grazed his forehead.

Blood sprayed, coloring his vision a sickly red. Yet his knees wouldn’t touch the ground. The twin blades remained intact.

“Buhh!!”

With his raised arms, the force of gripping tightly around the double blades propelled upwards, curling his body.

Casting off the grip that held him, he pulled away from the longsword that struck hard upon his waist, evading the crushing fate that loomed behind him, as he retaliated before the towering swordswoman issued a kick to his chest.

The kick that crashed against the brick paved street propelled him like a battering ram. As the spear sunk in, he rolled head over heels from the power of the thrust.

—An opportunity.

The swordmaster now a victim of her own predicament, crashing into a hard surface as he fiercely slashed downward.

Taking advantage of the arch of his attack, she sought to plunge it deep into her back for the desired hit.

There was no way to defend against the lopsided attack while suspended in mid-air and facing her opponent’s back.

However, at that moment, the vision of the swordmaster drifted.

“——!”

Twisting in the air, the swordswoman’s hood fell away, revealing her crimson locks cascading down like a flickering flame.

“———”

The instant her cascade brushed his vision, the clarity of the swordmaster’s lethal arc shifted slightly.

A minuscule alteration, just barely deviating from perfection. Yet, there was no way to dodge such an assault if you lacked the strength to counteract.

And yet, for the swordsman staring directly at the ensuing blow, it proved a fatal flaw.

The swordmaster, once loved by the sword god, could not be held at bay by even an obscured sword edge.

“———”

Before the spectacle ahead, the formidable swordsman felt his throat stiffen with dread.

A decisive strike had broken down before reaching the girl.

Nothing more than an act of herbivorous dominion; she simply drew close to the void while drawing back the longsword from a swing intentionally.

Like a dog blocking a predator’s jaws, putting an obstruction in the middle.

The tip of her longsword met the two blades head-on, continuing to disrupt the sharpness of the opposing duel.

Chillingly, the harmonious sound resonated, striking calm against the backdrop of evocation.

Countering the twin blades, she sought to bring the moisture to an end, allowing that sound to meld into a singularity.

Face to face, the towering swordswoman halted as Julius struggled to regain the momentum.

In just that singular moment, their union reverberated, clearly defining the power of that single blade to remain undeterred.

By anchoring the two excess blades, without hindrance, it would be impossible to baffle the inbound delivery of cuts.

—Yet, the act incited a thrill.

With the swordswoman robustly stabilizing, her own blade was thrust upon the swordsman.

With a slip of momentum, she swiftly initiated the counter.

——In a manner no other could match, she struck his arms with a kick that would surely drop him like a lead weight.

Her outstanding skill and poised sense summoned a fierce wind.

Just as the wind ever so softly cut through the charging air, the swordmaster successfully sailed past the advancing danger.

“Whoooost!”

The surefire breath of death loomed closely above.

Her longsword, properly unfurling upwards, swept through the fabric of the air with fluidity, leading the destined trajectory.

As the figure of her former partner echoed beneath the pale sky, her silhouette danced swiftly and gracefully across.

Moving swiftly, sending the heavy blow crashing down.

Beyond measure, a torrent clinked in relentless waves.

A union of sound surged, carrying the elegant feeling of continuity.

彼らはお互いの存在を求めるように共鳴し続けた。

※※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※

“Damn it! Respond already, geez!”

Kicking the ground, the walls, and the rooftop, he jumped with determination.

Slicing through the air sharply at an angle, his short golden hair flickered in the wind as his fangs displayed sheer desperation.

Repeatedly clicking his tongue, the burning impatience consumed his heart.

“Damn it! What is going on?!”

His clothes billowing, he landed swiftly without hesitation.

Such performances were only possible due to the combination of supernatural strength and capabilities. However, one who could leap over a city without a second thought showed no pride on his face.

Desperately, he continued to roar at the unresponsive mirror in his hand.

Running was Garfiel, and the call echoed from the dialogue mirror he held—a magical device for conversation.

He should have been able to connect through the dialogue mirror, yet now, it offered no replies. No one responded to Garfiel’s calls, despite the two pairs that surely existed.

“Why isn’t the city hall and those confronting ‘Wrath’ answering!?”

They intended to communicate by splitting up the dialogue mirrors, heading into the battle strategy.

Indeed, just before setting out from the city hall, they had connected without issues. However, now that communication became essential, the mirrors fell silent.

—They must be warned, and quickly.

“I have to tell them to flee from the city hall right now!”

As he uttered that desperate message, he soared, once again leaping to cross the street directly.

The roof he landed on crumbled beneath him, but Garfiel paid no heed. More than the damage to the city, preserving the counterattack team took precedence.

Rushing forward, Garfiel aimed for the city hall.

Just a few minutes after their departure, Garfiel returned alone, leaving behind Vilhelm while desperately shouting into the dialogue mirror.

The reason was as clear as day.

Danger loomed over their headquarters, the city hall.

—When both Vilhelm and Garfiel reached the Control Tower, it coincided closely with Reinhardt’s strike against ‘Greed.’

As the aurora surged high into the sky, the two warriors stepped into the Control Tower.

No Witch Cultists awaited them, nor did any obstacles block their path. As expected, the Witch Cult’s reinforcement in the city comprised merely the executives.

Thus far, everything progressed smoothly. The Control Tower was equipped just with the necessary functions for operating the city’s gates, leaving little to no interesting compartments.

The two aimed for the upper floors, preparing for battle against ‘Lust,’ which forecasted an expected risk in their power distribution. With ‘Lust’ and two renowned warriors as foes, they’d need to face a total of three enemies with only themselves as a pair—naturally, tension filled the air around them.

“If possible, I would like the female swordsman to be left to me.”

“Got something cooking up in there, huh? Look, I’ve got my own reasons for wanting that lass. Don’t think you can just have her, you know.”

“—She is my wife. They toy with my wife’s remains, trample upon her spirit, compelling her to point her sword at things she once sought to protect.”

“――――”

“Such a thing is utterly unforgivable.”

The powerful delivery of Vilhelm’s words, revealing the rationale behind his fight, was so compelling it left Garfiel momentarily speechless despite his own reasons for not yielding being potent.

Having no immediate retort, perhaps it was clear who should face the wondrous swordswoman.

“――――”

Despite voicing nothing, Garfiel conceded to Vilhelm. Vilhelm accepted that understanding as he lowered his head in gratitude, even without words.

Thus, as they entered the Control Tower, Garfiel’s instincts were on high alert.

Should Vilhelm exchange blows with that female swordsman, Garfiel would have to be the one to face the other two. The female swordsman was no slouch, and the colossal figure next to her was equally strong.

While ‘Lust’ was deemed weaker in power, the real threat posed by the Archbishops laid not in sheer power but in their very essence—a fact Subaru had explicitly pointed out.

A palpable tension knee-deep in a sense of resolve settled amongst them.

As Garfiel inhaled the strong scent of blood, he swiftly equipped his silver shield strapped to his calves and thrust open the designated room.

And there, he found it.

“Why on earth would they sit idly by? What a bunch of morons!”

Across the entire room, written in blood was a sprawling phrase.

At the moment he grasped that meaning, Garfiel’s mind boiled over.

The casual nonchalance exhibited towards mounting attacks. There was no obligation to wait. It was all too evident in their malevolent mindset.

“—I’d completely forgotten what kind of fiends they are.”

Stifling his voice, Vilhelm drew out a dialogue mirror. His instinct to connect with the city hall initiated, arising from Vilhelm arriving at that notion first.

“Distributing forces for an assault means thinning our own at the base. These types of individuals won’t hesitate to prey on such gaps.”

In front of the pale Garfiel, Vilhelm clicked his tongue against the unresponsive dialogue mirror.

Simultaneously, a torrent of hostility descended from the Control Tower’s rooftop.

Feeling the sensation of blades gliding down his spine, Garfiel grasped the nature of his adversary.

Vilhelm too pondered the source of the malevolence pulsating from within.

“Garfiel-san, I’ll leave the city hall to you.”

“I can bounce back faster than you can.”

Their intentions exchanged in an instant.

The foes that remained to bog them down emerged as undeniable figures brimming with sharp sword energy. If either attempted to flee, those blades would swiftly take them down.

One had to stay.

And one had to return to the city hall.

“Keep calling. —For my lord, I ask of you.”

“No need to tell me that. ‘With the voice of Libre, the soldiers boil with passion!’”

Accepting the tossed dialogue mirror, Garfiel shot from the Control Tower.

Continuing to leap over the city, crossing the waterways while persisting in his calls for responses to the unresponsive mirror. —Perhaps, Vilhelm’s battle had begun as well.

“Damn it! How completely boring that they’ve come after us—or what’s more!?”

If ‘Lust’ had ambushed the city hall, the defending forces would be few.

Anastasia and Felix couldn’t join the fight, and Crusch lay injured. A handful of members of ‘Iron Fang’ were left for security, yet their strengths paled in comparison to Mimi.

As thoughts of Mimi flooded in, Garfiel’s heart ached painfully.

At death’s doorstep still, she pulled him back and sheltered him, saving him.

His duty was to keep her life and bring her to safety—all of that was overshadowed.

Yet, now he neglected that duty, transferring the chance for reprisal onto someone else.

What on earth was he doing? What purpose did he serve now?

There was no longer any way to face Mimi, Subaru, or even Sister Ram.

“Once again, I’m—!”

Was he going to remain powerless?

The moment he cursed himself for the weak reflection in the unresponsive dialogue mirror, that was when it hit him.

“—!?”

Just after crunching down on a rooftop, he failed to react to the shadow that dove in from the side.

His body shot in mid-air, smashing into something with significantly more mass, sending him spiraling sideways.

A grunt couldn’t even escape his lips; his throat bound by an elbow squeezing tight.

The absence of oxygen clouded his mind, making it excruciatingly hard to maintain consciousness.

It was the shock reverberating through his body that tethered his remaining thoughts.

Mid-air, his body jolted diagonally. He crashed into the adjacent building, wrecking the wall as smoke billowed around Garfiel.

Garfiel coughed, feeling the deep ache in his body, realizing the restraints were gone. He used his entire body to smite whatever he could reach and regain his footing.

His form lay within a dimmed structure. The gathered haze swirled up, illuminated by the moonlight, as beckoning sensations clung close.

That presence had to belong to the one who sent him crashing down.

“You little bastard! You’ve got some nerve doing that!”

As he steadied to retaliate with a punch, a crucible-like fist leveled across his midsection.

The enormous bulk that struck him ripped through his abs, lifting Garfiel from the ground. Right after, he was smacked down by a descending fist and fell through the weakened floor.

“Gueh! What the—!?”

With his face buried in the ground, the heel came crashing down hard on his back.

Both the gale force and the weight collided into him, causing blood to gush forth. As he rolled over, battered like a tumbleweed, he blew through the entrance, landing in the street.

Gasping for air, Garfiel fought to regain himself. He quickly unleashed a simple healing spell upon his body, reattaching any broken bones while lifting his head.

Emerging from the building trailing behind him was a massive silhouette boasting an incredible stature.

Draped in a black robe that couldn’t fully conceal his muscled physique, he appeared to consist utterly of muscle mass.

It was an enemy that Garfiel had already encountered thrice.

And that name was already known.

“‘Eight-Armed’ Kurgan…!”

Once a renowned hero of the Volakia Empire.

Legend had it that he perished fighting during a city defense battle over a decade ago, yet right now, his being existed damned like Vilhelm’s wife.

“――――”

The moment Garfiel voiced that name, the gigantic figure—Kurgan stretched out his arms.

Simultaneously, the clasp that held up his robe loosened, revealing the true form underneath. This meant being up close and personal with the hero Kurgan and his repute.

Just as imagined, his form was wrapped tight in thick, bulging muscles resembling armor.

His gigantic stature matched that of a giant’s, and his visage revealed an aura vibrant with warrior spirit, filled to the brim with confidence.

What marked him as a deity of war lay in the eight arms supporting his supernatural power.

Typically, two arms were extended, and above them, a further pair emerged from the same source with two more arcing out from beneath his sides, hands facing forward from his back.

Kurgan aptly adorned the title of ‘Eight-Armed,’ instilling dread within foes at a single glance with a body solely constructed for combat.

“――――”

There was a tremor.

Before the authentic hero, Garfiel’s body gently quaked from deep within.

He had idolized such legendary figures, those who left their marks in history, revered by many; Garfiel knew of Kurgan—‘Eight-Armed’.

 

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