Todd Fang didn’t particularly consider himself overly cautious or thorough.

To put it simply, he pursued what was “obvious” to the point of eliminating every conceivable loophole, covering every possible means, and thinking as pessimistically as possible to reduce mistakes.

Even with all that, if the opponent had strategies or actions that surpassed his understanding, he would undoubtedly find himself taken aback and unable to respond.

That’s the level of awareness he had regarding his innate abilities compared to reality.

Fortunately, he hadn’t encountered such entities up to this point, or if he had, he managed to avoid decisive hostility, allowing him to survive until today.

Just, however—

“—Lately, my luck has been incredibly bad.”

Reflecting on the past month or two, Todd lamented to himself.

The beginning of his misfortune was being assigned to an expeditionary force to the east from the Imperial Capital, which meant being separated from his fiancée Kachua. That would lead to the worst encounter imaginable.

The two figures being swept away by the river near the camp—while one was inconsequential, the other marked the catalyst for all the misfortunes that befell Todd until that day.

As mentioned earlier, Todd did not consider himself “special,” but that man had decidedly lost touch with his own perspective. —Ordinary yet abnormal.

Their exchange had been brief, and their time together short, yet the man had zero self-awareness regarding this.

Todd had seen several so-called exceptional individuals both before and after that encounter.

All of them seemed to realize that their own existence stepped outside the norm and that they could only walk a path unique to themselves; yet, that man stood as the sole exception.

That was concerning. Hence, he thought that if given the chance, he had to kill that man no matter what.

However, upon realizing that achieving that goal wouldn’t be possible, Todd swiftly abandoned his intentions of extermination and chose instead to distance himself from the harbinger of misfortune. It was best to avoid involvement altogether.

Sacrificing Jamal, who had served as a rain shield, to forcefully rescue the captive Arakia was part of that strategy. If he could gain favor with Arakia, who wielded greater power and authority, he believed he could escape his unwelcome position. —That plan went wildly off course.

Ultimately, not wishing for Jamal to seek revenge, he left Kachua’s existence behind in the Imperial Capital and, with the vacant-minded Arakia in tow, was thrown into the midst of a monumental rebellion against the Emperor that erupted across the Empire.

Everything—a total, unyielding failure.

It felt as though the beginning of this accumulation of grievances stemmed from that harbinger of calamity. So, he wished for at least this much of his schemes to succeed—

“—Failure, failure. I meant to finish it all in one go just now.”

Sneaking deep into enemy territory, he aimed for a surprise attack.

After taking down the armed soldiers in the initial strike, Todd glared at the remaining enemies, muttering those words.

There were three of them—a pair of girls and a pretty boy. He managed to take down a proper soldier first, but Todd didn’t deem that his best outcome.

Instead, he viewed the results as having barely scraped the minimum.

In reality, Todd left his post to infiltrate the enemy camp with the aim of taking care of a nuisance that was causing problems in this defense against the Imperial Capital—a foe exhibiting extraordinary capabilities in information warfare.

In such a grand-scale group battle, handling accurate information became the lifeline.

Honestly, Todd had concluded that the reason the Imperial Army was struggling against the rebels, who were only numerous in number despite having firm defenses and elite warriors known as the Nine Divine Generals, was precisely that.

If human anatomy could be likened to a command structure, the commander of a group could mean the head or the heart. Both would be fatal blows if taken out, and everyone, knowing that, makes it a point to protect them. Just as well, no matter how invigorated the head or heart may be, the body simply won’t function if the blood vessels aren’t operating.

In that sense, the role that determines the flow of battle belongs to those performing the “blood vessel” function—enemies that must be prioritized for elimination.

“While it’s easy to say ‘don’t harm women or children’ when on the battlefield, it would be an utterly unfair story for the residents of the Imperial Capital. Besides, it’s somewhat too convenient.”

Exchanging words that shouldn’t be exchanged, Todd evaluated his opponents.

The three he faced looked just as listed earlier, but he had no concrete evidence of which among them might be the “blood vessel” he suspected.

Clearly out of place for a battlefield were the two young girls.

They appeared to be in their early teens, though the “Dragon Knight” Madelin Eshault shared a similar youthful appearance; one could tell she existed on an entirely different dimension of life, unlike the girls, who seemed fully human.

However, the presence of individuals who shouldn’t be there only served to raise further suspicion about why those girls even had to be in such a place.

“If you’re just a non-combatant left out on the battlefield, your current logic might hold. But I won’t recognize anyone working on the battlefield as a non-combatant.”

Having exchanged words directly with Todd, the pretty boy—also not looking like any warrior—was the one who most closely matched Todd’s impression of the “blood vessel” he was concerned about.

While he had no significant physical prowess compared to the girls, something about his gaze seemed off. An unsettling glimmer lurked behind his delicate features, hinting at a willingness to treat his own life as mere tools.

Entranced by the boy’s piercing eyes, Todd couldn’t afford to let his guard down around the girls.

One of the girls had an eerily calm demeanor, while the other unmistakably showed signs of a warrior’s stance. It wasn’t unusual in Volakia, but the latter had likely claimed a life before.

If one had the experience of killing, it didn’t matter if they were a girl; they had already crossed the wall of resolution.

In other words, caution was absolutely warranted.

“Well, my gut instinct says that you guys are the root of the trouble brewing in this war. And my gut says this, too.”

All three present were potential targets that deserved to be eliminated.

Todd couldn’t determine exactly who among them should be prioritized, but one thing was for sure: they were all individuals that needed to be dealt with.

—Otto Suwen often cursed his own carelessness.

The current predicament was primarily due to Natsuki Subaru and Rem going missing, forcing him to come to the Volakia Empire. Yet, numerous other points for self-reflection also loomed large.

Just moments before, he had been scolded by Petra, providing ample reason for reflection.

Using the “Blessing of Words,” he intended to seize control of the battlefield in this defense against the Imperial Capital.

With great flourish, he had put forth this strategy while being assisted by Petra, and it quickly altered the tide of battle without any bias or conceit.

The combined prowess of the “Blessing of Words” and Otto’s heightened auditory perception supported by Petra’s Light Magic allowed him to grasp the ever-changing conditions and ongoing arrangements of the battlefield, providing information continuously.

Of course, if that information collected wasn’t wielded effectively, it would be entirely wasted. Still, character aside, Abel remarkably lived up to Otto’s expectations and demonstrated impeccable utilization of the information collected.

Few understood just how significantly Otto’s work contributed to the battlefield, but he was indifferent to evaluation.

In any case, what transpired within the Volakia Empire wasn’t for the outside world to know.

Had this all played out within the Lugnica Kingdom, there’d be ample reason to boast about it, but evaluations concerning his contributions here risked unnecessary dangers. Thus, those assessments were of secondary importance.

“What’s crucial is the result of bringing Natsuki-san and Rem-san back… also without any casualties.”

If casualties were to occur among his own while returning Subaru and Rem, it would be completely counterproductive.

That became the minimum premise for this journey and an ideal that could not be surpassed. —Rather, it should be said that it couldn’t be surpassed; it must occur without exception.

Therefore, he steeled himself to lay everything on the line for his battle on the battlefield, one that Petra had chastised him over.

He reflected deeply on this but—still, it hadn’t been enough.

The result of this negligence brought forth an Imperial soldier armed with an axe before him.

“—Failure, failure. I should’ve wiped them all out in one go just now.”

The Imperial soldier, bandana wrapped around his head, grasped a lengthy axe, fixed his gaze on Otto.

Revealing a stark coldness and practical judgment, Otto cursed himself for his carelessness while protecting Petra behind him.

He’d entrusted the use of the garnered information to Abel, who could best utilize it.

Nevertheless, the core of misinformation warfare lay in how to acquire such information in the first place. Typically, people overlook this aspect and instead target the body wielding the information.

However, the man before him was different.

“While it’s easy to say ‘don’t harm women or children’ during a battle, it would be unfair to the citizens of the Imperial Capital. Besides, isn’t that somewhat too convenient?”

The man’s true intentions became crystal clear as he emerged before Otto and the others—he aimed at them, who were in the position of gathering information, rather than striking against Abel at headquarters, who handled the information.

The opponent bore few guards and was relatively unprotected, but taking his head would yield the same result. Without information flowing, the precision of Abel’s command would decline. Otto saw no reason not to act.

Given the same opportunity, Otto would have seized it without hesitation.

Thus—

“If you’re just a non-combatant left out on the battlefield, then your reasoning might hold water. But I won’t acknowledge anyone working on the battlefield as a mere non-combatant.”

As he contemplated the opponent’s words, Otto couldn’t help but find them reasonable.

He scrutinized the man closely.

Two pressing questions loomed in his thoughts: how had this man evaded detection and appeared here, and how had he pinpointed Otto and the others’ location?

It could be speculated that those two queries were likely answered by the same reason.

Some peculiarities about the man allowed him to evade detection of Otto’s channel and accurately track his position.

“Well, now. My gut says you’re the core of the bad stuff happening in this war. And my gut says something else, too.”

He spoke not to reveal information but to find a thread to pull. Yet, as initially analyzed, the man’s reservations were significant.

He understood that saying less was a way to protect himself. He wasn’t one of those who would crush the opponent by overwhelming physical force; he leaned towards being cunning instead.

Enemies like this were tough. —More so than those who appeared weak, they could become a great threat.

That’s why—

“—You guys aren’t the type to be given time either.”

The man, brandishing his long axe, charged straight at Otto.

In response, Otto gritted his teeth and concentrated all his might on evading the initial strike. He prepared himself—wondering just how far he could go against this man with minimal preparation.

—Petra Reite often lamented her own lack of refinement when faced with adversity.

Frequently coddled by allies for her youth, Petra had firmly resolved to not let her circumstances lead to acceptance of her immaturity.

If this were a situation during daily tasks as a maid in the mansion leading to some failure, it might not seem so serious.

However, such a lackadaisical attitude could lead to significant mistakes.

It mustn’t be said one should always be tense.

But one should always produce the expected results. That was Petra’s way of thinking, and at least she wanted to hold such an ideal for herself in her lacking state.

Therefore—

“—You guys aren’t the type that should be given time.”

She steeled herself, suppressing shakes in her limbs, staring up at the approaching Imperial soldier carrying an axe.

Through teary eyes blurred with emotion, she caught a glimpse of the burned and charred body of the messenger soldier, who had met a fiery death.

If Otto hadn’t swiftly pulled back, she would have undoubtedly shared the same fate. That fact broke Petra’s spirit but also now became—

“Petra-chan!”

A huge trust for Otto calling her name that fueled Petra into action.

Casting aside her temporary role as “young lady,” the true Petra was moved by Otto’s voice, loosening the rigidness wrought of fear and regret.

Just then—

“—Number Seven!”

In response to Otto’s cue, Petra instinctively raised her arm.

For a fleeting moment, anxiety flashed through her mind. It was a duty she had declared she could handle, but it was undeniably a spur-of-the-moment situation.

She had practiced diligently and felt secure in her competitive nature of being prepared for the challenge ahead.

Now all that was left was—

“—Subaru.”

Calling out the name of her beloved extinguished her prior anxious thoughts as she clenched her teeth.

“—Jiwaldo!”

From Petra’s fingertips, a beam of white light was unleashed.

It served as one of the few offensive spells within Light Magic—a piercing light spear targeting something obstructing the path. —Though, it was effective only when mastered by an expert, and Petra couldn’t measure up to that level.

With her Jiwaldo, Petra’s intent was to inflict burns, not lethal wounds.

Nevertheless, that was enough.

“—――”

The white light projected from her fingertips flew not toward the man but rather aimed at the ground diagonally behind him. It had been surreptitiously disguised, a mechanism left in place.

The intent wasn’t to burn the man, but rather to ignite a trap.

“Now.”

Utilizing Otto’s preferred explosive traps laid on the ground with fire magic stones.

As Otto activated “channels” to conduct reconnaissance, he and Petra had prepared ten traps for when they might need to face an attack.

The amount of magic stones they could carry and having to move would render the initial setups less than perfect. Still, Otto’s meticulousness, bordering on obsessive, revealed its effectiveness, resulting in an explosion behind the man.

“—Damn.”

In that instant, the man’s attention wavered slightly toward the sound behind him.

The explosion chosen by Petra didn’t directly damage the ground near the man nor right below his feet but rather detonated at a distance; thus, shockwaves or heat failed to reach him. Still, it drew his attention just enough.

That was more than adequate for the young girl poised to spring on him.

“Here I come—!!”

With a tribal dagger in hand, Medium lunged into the fray.

The blond girl, her height similar to Petra’s, leaped fearlessly into close range, bravely swinging her dagger and aiming to sever the man’s arm wielding the axe.

“Tch.”

Caught off guard by the diversion, the man glared in annoyance as he twisted his wrist, parrying Medium’s attack with his axe. They both shrugged off the initial exchange and retreated slightly to reset.

“Not yet! Not yet! Not yet!!”

Rather than faltering, Medium powered forward with undaunted energy.

Though knocked off balance by a counter, she performed a rotate and maintained her momentum as she released another strike. If he dodged again, she’d spin again with that same force and back with another strike.

It resembled a raging river, a whimsical dance of swordplay that never ceased.

“Number Four!”

“Yes!”

Otto’s voice called out, startling Petra as she was almost lost in the sight of Medium’s spirited onslaught.

At Otto’s command, she shot her magic without thinking, directed at the designated location. —It was one of the most important conditions Otto had stipulated when they made the promise to fight together.

Thus, Petra had fully committed herself to follow that command, forgetting every fear in this moment.

“Jiwaldo!”

Once again, a spell was unleashed, exploding on the ground in proximity to the current battle zone.

The man, being engaged in combat with both Petra and Medium, might have considered that she wouldn’t involve him further. But that was an naive thought.

“If necessary, we’ll take you down alongside Medium.”

“I’ll heal you properly later!”

“Wooooo! I don’t really know what I’m doing, but I won’t stop!”

The explosion that erupted just meters away enveloped them, striking with furious intensity.

It may seem ruthless, but Otto’s mindset resonated with Petra. The reality of all three of them surviving at a cost far outweighed the ideal of escaping unscathed.

Even as the searing heat began to scorch their skin, Medium’s momentum didn’t waver.

Feeling both gratitude and guilt simultaneously, Petra poured every ounce of her spirit together with Otto to repel this assailant—

“Hey, hey, give me a break here.”

Just as she focused her gaze, the man voiced those words amidst the impending explosion.

His voice came through oddly clear—far from a frustrated or angry response to being stalled; it carried a strange, misplaced emotion.

What echoed in his tone was an utter disbelief.

“Same train of thought as all of you, huh?”

The instant she heard him, Petra felt a chill run across her whole being.

Though she couldn’t grasp the meaning, the intent behind those words struck her clearly.

“Number Two!!”

Recognizing the dread from the moment lost, Otto yelled. Petra cast all thought aside, promptly following his directions.

The Jiwaldo unleashed sent heat back to the magic stones hidden inside the ground—this time, directly beneath their feet.

“—――”

White light surged beneath them, transforming into red as a shockwave erupted.

In retrospect, Petra realized it was an emergency setup she regretted needing to utilize, something Otto had previously cautioned her against with a, “Let’s not make it necessary.”

In fact, propelled by the blasting light, Petra’s small body was flung into the air. However, this wasn’t haphazard; it was intentional.

“Ugh,” she grasped out, clutching an outstretched hand that captured her, as Otto enveloped her in his embrace.

Naturally, Otto was also thrown by the same shock; he used the body he had against the impact as a way to shield Petra from harm while preventing himself from being thrown away.

Because of Otto’s decision, Petra focused solely on performing her most potent Light Magic to dissipate the jolt on Otto’s behalf.

She did it. Their bodies were tossed through the air, and immediately after—

“—――”

A thunderous explosion erupted from the same spot wherein Petra’s outburst had occurred—precisely where she and Otto had just stood.

Her eyes caught a fleeting glimpse of the true danger: it was the same fire that had consumed the two messengers.

That truly wanted to burn Petra and Otto to char.

“With the axe…”

The boy had intended to cleave them, but the real threat stirred behind—the inferno they now knew had been set up as a trap.

This approach of not confronting them head-on was the man’s preferred tactic, and it strangely overlapped with Otto’s setup, revealing why he had been muttering just moments earlier.

“Damn!”

Just as Petra pieced this together, Otto, holding her close, dropped to the ground.

He moaned in pain from the harsh ground as the blast engulfed them both.

Otto grit his teeth as he rolled across the hard earth. However, he quickly regained his footing, rising to shield Petra while directing his focus upon the man.

Though Petra lent her support to him, bringing her gaze into alignment with the man at a distance, he found it odd that the opponent did not pursue them immediately.

The reason became clear quite soon.

“I wish I hadn’t had to resort to this.”

The man clenched the axe, eyes darting toward the sign of explosion’s aftermath behind him. His gaze swept through the burnt grass, now sending forth plumes of black smoke.

“There, there. And over there.”

The man muttered softly, following which a series of explosions erupted across the ground.

Number Six. Following that was Number Nine and Number One, subsequently the chain reactions of Number Five and Eight blew up in sequence.

“W-what? How…”

“Could he possibly be a spirit?”

The shocked Petra couldn’t comprehend how he had managed to identify the setups, nor grasp the means used to trigger them.

The boy displayed no inclination to utilize magic, yet Petra comprehended just how unfathomable that young man’s actions had been.

If he were a spirit master, he’d be akin to Subaru or Emilia.

Petra felt a strong reluctance to acknowledge that the man before her was of the same lineage as those she held affection for in various ways—

“But, there are no spirits around…”

“There are various ways to control them. If you wish not to be consumed, you’ll need to consider it that way.”

“Huh?”

The disconcerting reply caught Petra by surprise, causing her to freeze. Yet, Otto swiftly tapped on her shoulder, pulling her back to her senses.

The man’s comment could have been an attempt to manipulate them or perhaps a partial truth he was trying to convey; any considerations remained entirely elusive to her.

However, one thing was abundantly clear.

“I hate you!”

“I agree with her!”

Clenching her small fist, Petra shouted, a small shadow leaping beside her.

Medium, who had been waiting for an opening while keeping an eye on the mysterious man’s behavior, took full advantage of the smoke billowed from the guy’s earlier explosions.

Moving through the haze, she wielded her tribal dagger as a targeting weapon, aiming for the man’s back.

Having patiently bided her time for such an opportunity, the courageous assault she launched bore down directly toward him—

“The one easiest for me to read among you three is you.”

“—Huh?”

With a sideways sway of his body, the man barely evaded Medium’s descent of doom.

In an instant, he swung around, axes aloft toward the approaching Medium as he charged.

“Only you practice tactics of the Empire. It makes me sick.”

“Medium-chan!”

Petra’s high-pitched scream echoed through the air just as she widened her eyes at the near miss with the man’s vicious axe, poised to deliver a deadly strike toward Medium.

—Medium O’Connell didn’t contemplate matters deeply.

To put it more accurately, Medium did have thoughts racing through her mind.

She constantly worried for her older brother, Flopp O’Connell, while fully trusting him. When she had heard he’d been taken from the castle city, her blend of shock and concern threatened to tear her apart, yet she shrank herself even further in sadness and fear, knowing this would only increase his worry.

Therefore, she believed that worry and trust came hand in hand.

“Sister! I think we can get by without overthinking; using our hearts yields much better results! Especially for you! So keep that in mind!”

Those words spoken by her brother long ago held significant value for Medium, both before and after shriveling up.

She found that thinking with her heart often led to convoluted reasoning or fanciful thoughts, which were heavily criticized—especially from Abel, who seemed to find it particularly annoying.

Nevertheless, her brother’s words were meaningful. Medium had successfully navigated many things that way.

“Of course, big bro is amazing!”

Naturally, had everything operated like clockwork, she wouldn’t have shrunk physically, wouldn’t have lost her brother to the capital, wouldn’t have been separated from Rem, along with many other painful losses.

Things don’t always work out perfectly.

However, based on Medium’s understanding of the situation, her method was the best outcome achievable.

So, when the surprise attack from behind went awry, as her face was to meet the axe, she thought to herself, “Oh, I’m going to die,” yet she didn’t panic.

This was because she’d executed her best possible action, ensuring she had done all that she could. If this ended in loss, she would have no regrets.

Obviously, the thought of dying was frightening, and not reuniting with her brother was painful. It was regrettable that she couldn’t save new friends like Rem and Natsumi.

But she reasoned through her heart, doing her utmost with every step she could take.

Ultimately, the results resting ahead were, in a sense, subject to fate—if that fate didn’t turn in her favor, it was only the way of the world and the traditions of Volakia.

However—

“—――”

Just before the axe sheathed in a sharp blade could pierce her face, it sparked and ricocheted off.

Inhaling the faint metallic tang, Medium exhaled softly.

“See, big bro really is amazing. I haven’t died even once while using this method.”

“—Oh, how envious that must be. I can’t even keep count of how many times I have.”

The person who had deflected the axe, meant to take Medium’s life, replied.

A burly figure wielding a blue dragon blade with a blade thickness comparable to the intercepted axe appeared—one whose appearance was certainly unusual yet awarding high praise from Medium.

“You…”

The man who had interrupted their encounter glanced toward Medium, who could have been killed had she not been guarded.

He appeared displeased but spoke.

The man who barred the path—an unmistakable vagabond shrouded in a black helmet, arm misshapen—spoke. “Sorry to interfere while you’re all settling nicely, but I think the biggest danger is right here. Seriously, the next step feels dark enough to genuinely confuse me.”