Amidst the battlefield of the Imperial Capital’s defense operations, there became two particularly vivid sights.

One was the ‘Cloud Dragon,’ majestically spreading its wings as it descended from the heavens, dyeing the second peak white in an effort to prevent the damage from spreading to the surroundings.

And the other, the blazing hot sky painted in red, with the environment becoming so harsh that the survival of any living creature was at risk, was centered around the first peak empowered by a girl.

“――――”

Like shimmering heat haze, Arakia danced into the red sky.

The world altered by Arakia’s unrestrained power as the ‘Spirit Eater’ had already turned into a hell that eroded the lives of those without extraordinary abilities.

“I will definitely get back the princess—”

That was the foremost reason Arakia faced the battlefield, her only reason.

There was no loyalty or patriotism as the top general of the Empire, nor pride as one of the ‘Nine Divine Generals,’ nor any ill will such as anger for her kind or personal ambition.

While other members of the ‘Nine Divine Generals’ might have their reasons and meanings for fighting, Arakia reigned supreme on the side of the Imperial Capital without possessing any noble justification to support her strength.

However, given her origins as a ‘Spirit Eater,’ it was only natural.

A ‘Spirit Eater’ is forced to use their strength not for themselves but for others, which was no exception for Arakia.

For in the first place, a ‘Spirit Eater’ can only exist with such nature.

Spirits exist in every soil and sky.

A ‘Spirit Eater’ devours these spirits, absorbs their power, and becomes one with them—a reckless act akin to incorporating nature into oneself, leading inevitably to various consequences.

If one absorbs the fire spirit, their body temperature rises. Absorbing the wind spirit risks rupturing the body from within. Absorbing the water spirit threatens the flow of blood, while absorbing the earth spirit could lead to one uniting with the land, potentially losing their human form.

In fact, many who aspired to become ‘Spirit Eaters’ have ceased to be human due to such side effects.

This existence, created to counter a certain witch who once captivated all and even commanded the silent Great Spirits, is a being meant for battle, much like the ogres that sense miasma.

The witch has perished, and in modern times, ‘Spirit Eaters’ have lost their original purpose, yet a faction of the Volakia Empire aimed to revive them due to their power and utility.

Arakia was but one of the few recognized for her rare talent during such attempts.

This rare talent consisted of two necessary qualities for a ‘Spirit Eater’—a body that can endure the intake of spirits and a mind that can remain human even after absorbing spirits.

Originally, the art of drawing power from spirits is an external method, and the method of extracting only power while bypassing various premises carries significant danger.

The significant difference compared to spirit mages who borrow spirit power or temple knights of the Gusteco Holy Kingdom who gain power through subjugation lies in that.

While the latter also requires effort in building a relationship with the target spirit, once a contract is formed, there is no danger to utilizing power as long as that relationship doesn’t collapse.

On the other hand, a ‘Spirit Eater’ must constantly replenish new spirits to maintain their power, living in fear of losing their selfhood with each intake.

Should the body ever yield to the spirit consumed, that body would lose its original state, and the mind would be dragged into a dimension unrecognizable as human by assimilating with the spirit.

However, if one’s selfhood is too strong, it severely hinders compatibility with the spirit, making it impossible to demonstrate their strength as a ‘Spirit Eater.’

Therefore, ‘Spirit Eaters’ are required to have a self-awareness and selfhood so faint it’s almost non-existent to be compatible with absorbed spirit power. Nonetheless, as previously mentioned, overly faint selfhood can easily lead to unification with the absorbed spirit, heightening the possibility of losing one’s humanity.

To prevent that from occurring, ‘Spirit Eaters’ are granted a pillar—essentially, a ‘core’ that helps them not lose themselves amidst their faint self-awareness.

This pillar functions akin to imprinting, like a chick recognizing the first creature it sees as its parent, deeply rooted in the inherent instincts of a ‘Spirit Eater.’

The tremendous power of the ‘Spirit Eater’ is wielded for the sake of this pillar, and their immature psyche is occupied with the essence of this pillar.

Surely, the pillar is the reason for the existence of a ‘Spirit Eater.’

—A ‘Spirit Eater’ with no ambitions of betrayal towards the pillar, continuing to vow selfless service.

In the face of countless sacrifices, the ‘Spirit Eater’ resurrected from ancient times. Even the people of the Empire could hardly believe that this success was worth the lives it took.

Thus, the daughter, regarded as the sole completion example, was presented to the then-Emperor Driesen Volakia as a valuable existence endowed with extraordinary capability, and Driesen granted her to one of his daughters as a foster sibling.

How Emperor Driesen Volakia felt about the presented daughter and why he conferred her to his own blood remains unknown.

What can be said, however, is that this daughter functioned as the faction that aimed to revive the power of the ‘Spirit Eaters’ desired, and Driesen firmly established her as a pillar.

And above all—

—As a ‘Spirit Eater,’ Arakia completed herself as a formidable existence no less uncontrollable than any of her kind in a bygone era, where battles against witches were demanded.

The world mocks common sense as it heats up, burning lungs with every breath, causing the veins carrying blood within the body to expand with heat, even the tears meant to moisten parched eyes vaporize.

In an environment that devours life with each passing moment, a mere practitioner cannot even approach to discern the color of Arakia’s eyes. Any life, without distinction, is left behind, unable to keep up with the world transforming around them, dying as it dwindles in thirst and weakness.

Thus, on the land gazed at by the red sky, apart from Arakia, only Yorna and Priscilla remain standing.

Even for Yorna, the sensation of life being eroded is inescapable.

“――っ”

With a sound, the fourth hairpin was broken, and Yorna stiffened in a sense of loss.

Thanks to the effects of the ‘Soul Marriage Technique,’ the various offerings dedicated to Yorna took on her life. Because of this, even while fighting against Arakia, who was literally of monstrous caliber, Yorna suffered no physical damage and her movements remained unaffected.

However—

“If you can ease this pain in my chest, then so be it.”

Yorna’s life being taken on by offerings themselves proved the love embedded within the gifts.

The hairpins were neither particularly exquisite nor expensive; they were merely items donated by the residents of the town under Yorna’s protection, made from their horns, scales, and body parts.

What lay within was only esteem and trust. Thus, they hold no price.

“The hairpin broke, huh? Earlier it was the ornament, and now it’s being gradually chipped away, Mother.”

As the pieces fell from between her fingers, Priscilla landed beside Yorna with the hem of her red dress fluttering.

Holding the dazzling ‘Sun Blade’ in a grip reminiscent of beautiful profile adorned with a defiant expression, at that, Yorna narrowed her eyes slightly.

“I must say, it bothers me to have my beloved children’s gifts counted like mere remnants of life being taken.”

“You, my dear mother, who has lived for so long and changed your life numerous times, speaks so coyly. Is it not a bit unseemly for one who has never given a single gift to call me a beloved child?”

“—――”

“Can you not even indulge in jest? —Then, as you wish, let us speak of reality.”

Shrugging her bare white shoulders, Priscilla turned her gaze straight ahead. Upon that stance and words, Yorna threw back, “Speak of reality, do you?”

In response, Priscilla lowered her chin slightly and said,

“How much longer can we contend with her?”

Priscilla’s crimson gaze turned towards the sky. —Immediately after, countless water spears rained down aiming for the ground where Yorna and Priscilla stood.

“――ッ”

Biting her lip, Yorna crouched down to evade the oncoming water spears.

Each of the incoming water spears was compressed to the thickness of a single finger, but don’t underestimate the power contained within, equating it to just a finger.

The densely compressed water flow harbors the threat of penetrating anything in its path, slicing indiscriminately, and a mere graze could sever arms or legs in a deadly strike.

As if splitting the earth roughly with an enormous amount of water, it also wielded delicate techniques that rendered it difficult to handle. Dangerous without exception, there was no consistency to it.

“――っ, Priscilla!”

Crouching down and putting all her being into evading the raining water spears, Yorna called Priscilla’s name as she wielded the ‘Sun Blade’ to slice through the water flow.

Priscilla, dazzling as her jeweled sword flashed, effortlessly chopped down the water flows, yet the number of water spears shot towards her far exceeded those aimed at Yorna.

From the sheer volume of water, it could be surmised whom Arakia placed greater emphasis upon—Yorna or Priscilla.

“――――”

The crimson sword flashes danced in the air, and Priscilla’s swordsmanship was as graceful as a dance.

However, that didn’t mean it completely sealed off Arakia’s attacks.

As she had remarked on the remaining pieces of accessories adorning Yorna, Priscilla too had her share of jewels, which adorned her beautiful visage, shattered during this battle.

The ticking limit of endurance was not exclusive to Yorna.

“Even if they were to lose my hands and feet, huh? —Truly a grotesque hope you cling to.”

Pierced through her ample chest by one such strike, Priscilla’s necklace gem shattered.

Ignoring the fate of the precious gem that bore the burden of her life, Priscilla’s crimson gaze was solely fixed upon Arakia in the sky.

However, upon witnessing Priscilla’s profile yearning for Arakia’s figure, Yorna momentarily doubted her own eyes. What flashed through her crimson eyes in that moment was nearly unbelievable.

That was—

“Do you have regrets, Priscilla. —Regarding Arakia’s existence?”

“Speak no foolishness. —This world is fashioned entirely to my convenience.”

Priscilla snorted at Yorna’s inquiry and leaned forward, sprinting towards the foster brother who left their mother behind.

It almost seemed as if there were emotions hidden beneath her eyes, not gazing at either of the two.

“Regret, I have my own just the same.”

Yorna knew not what kind of meetings and farewells Priscilla and Arakia had.

Though she could have been in a position to learn, that chance slipped away with her very life. Yorna’s previous incarnation had perished during the difficult birth of Priscilla.

Afterwards, the ‘Election of the Emperor’ was held, and the daughter of the Volakia royal family—Priska Benedict also lost her life after defeat in battle.

That should have been the lifetime of Yorna’s previous incarnation, Sandra Benedict.

Yet—

“――――”

By some twist of fate, time flowed, and opportunities they were never meant to cross paths in met Yorna, who now reunited with Priscilla.

Neither as Sandra nor Priska, but as Yorna and Priscilla they encountered once more—the miracle that shouldn’t have happened occurred, and mother and child journeyed through the red hell together.

—Yes, they would go together.

“Princess.”

So briefly did she whisper, that literally power overflowed from all of Arakia.

Using the powers of fire, water, wind, earth, light, and shadow, every essence which constituted this world, Arakia poured her entire being into it, approaching Priscilla.

This, Priscilla displayed her attitude to receive it with her own body, wielding her sword, yelling out as the torrents of water and lightning surged towards her—

“—I love you.”

In that instant, Priscilla’s raised ‘Sun Blade’ was supposed to clash head-on with the water and thunder that surged forth, yet both attacks dissipated into nothingness. —No, they did not vanish like smoke.

Without a doubt, they were sliced away by the cleave of the ‘Sun Blade.’

However, the scarlet sword flash drawn forth was quicker and even more refined than before.

“What is this…?”

Having caught her breath in slightly astonished tones, Priscilla frowned her shapely brow.

Towards her, a torrent of scorching red flame surged from all directions. Without hesitation, Priscilla cleaved away the searing wind with her slashes, sweeping it aside effortlessly.

Then, as if confirming something, she readjusted her grip on her precious sword, and her hand gently touched her face. The fingertips brushed around her eyes, yet she likely couldn’t sense any anomalies.

Yorna knew. This was distinct from flames bearing physical consequences.

—That was the flame of the bond igniting her eyes, forged from Yorna’s love for her beloved child.

“――――”

With the crimson sword in hand, Priscilla stood tall, her left eye lit with flames.

That was a mark of the protection bestowed by Yorna upon the citizens of the Magic City Chaos Frame. A secret art granted through the ‘Soul Marriage Technique,’ a portion of Yorna’s power is shared with those under her protection.

Normally, this was a technique gifted to children who possessed no fighting power or arts, meant to protect them, carrying a restriction that it could not be granted to warriors.

Yet, here was an exception.

Grasping the sword permitted to no one outside the royal family of Volakia, possessing the power and arts to fight, she fulfilled the qualifications of what Yorna wished to protect as her “beloved child.”

“Priscilla—”

“Have you finally accepted me as your child, Mother?”

“How cheeky. —However, this foolish, clumsy mother will not simply stand by and watch you rush ahead. If my master is headed to hell, then I too shall follow willingly.”

Priscilla shall not tread ahead alone.

In answer to Yorna’s declaration, Priscilla snorted, acknowledging Yorna’s determination standing beside her. As a sign of that, Yorna felt an odd sensation upon her own face and gently brought her hand up to it.

The cause of the oddity was her eye—perhaps, there burned a flame there, just like Priscilla’s.

The ‘Soul Marriage Technique,’ which couldn’t be wielded without qualification, now bore two wielders who fulfilled each other’s conditions, complementing one another’s souls. —A phenomenon that should never happen occurred.

And, witnessing it,

“…Why?”

A faint voice slipped out, her gaze angrily dropping to the ground.

Looking closely, Yorna glared at the Arakia, who hovered in the sky.

She placed her hand upon her face and touched the eye patch covering her left eye.

Then, as if tearing it off, she pulled her eye patch away,

“Why! Why, why, why, why do you have the princess’s!”

Arakia’s anger flared as she showed the lightless red eye beneath the eye patch. That unseen eye mirrored Yorna, and Arakia shouted at her with her crimson gaze.

That eye held flames; it reflected Yorna, who received the blessings of ‘Soul Marriage’ from Priscilla.

Yet, Arakia could not host such flames nor receive Priscilla’s boon.

“The princess is my…”

“Do not misunderstand, Arakia. Even if your desires came to pass, let’s say, I would concede a hundred steps, you would still be mine, and I would never be yours.”

“—――”

“And I shall never concede anyone to anyone.”

At Priscilla’s resolute gaze, Arakia inhaled sharply.

However, before Priscilla’s vehement declaration, a small voice interjected, sounding as though protesting.

That was—

“Mother, why did you hit my head?”

“You shouldn’t say such things. I certainly have no memory of raising my child to be so arrogant.”

“Then, I have no recollection of being raised by you at all.”

“If that is the case, then surely the opportunity has finally come around.”

So saying, Yorna lightly tapped Priscilla’s head with her pipe and swayed her head slightly as she looked up at Arakia.

In her eyes were unchanging fury and a touch of disquiet at the recent action.

Locking eyes with her, Yorna took the pipe and placed it in her mouth, inhaling the purple smoke.

And then, with a sense of relief, though it didn’t quite fit the situation, she laughed,

“Finally, you’ve set your sights on me, haven’t you, Arakia the First General. —The opportunity to redeem my dereliction of duty to train you, comes now, both for me and Priscilla.”

“What…”

“Simply put—”

The confusion weaved into her words, she inhaled the smoke lightly.

Wrapping herself in the flowing smoke that spilled from her lips, with the bond igniting her eyes from her daughter’s trust, Yorna Mishigure, once known as Sandra Benedict,

“—A parent does not slacken in the discipline of their child. Brace yourselves, little ones.”

Thus, she firmly declared.