This feeling is quite complicated, but like Natsuki Schwarz, Tanzer despised the Volakia Empire.

The citizens of the Empire prided themselves on their strength, revering such a way of thinking, while those who were not strong enough were oppressed and told outright that their weakness deserved their fate.

The weak have no right to be citizens of the Empire. — Well then, we’ll take our leave.

Nobody gets to choose where they are born.

Therefore, neither Tanzer nor anyone else was born into the Volakia Empire by choice.

Tanzer hated the Volakia Empire.

It took away her father and mother, and killed her beloved sister who struggled to raise the weak and small Tanzer, who finally felt at peace after finding a place to belong, the sister who would finally be able to repay her kindness—a sister brutally killed for some nonsensical reason by the Empire.

Surely, that’s why.

“Do you dislike this country, my lord?”

When asked that question, Tanzer’s rarely visible emotions tightened, and she held her breath.

She thought she had been seen through, with thoughts that shouldn’t be known, that were undoubtedly deserving of rejection.

However, a beautiful woman, who stared at the trembling Tanzer with a smile, gently placed her hand on Tanzer’s tense cheek.

The warmth of that hand felt just like her lost sister’s.

The sister who devoted herself to Tanzer without a thought for her own well-being, and died without knowing even a hint of happiness.

“I feel the same way.”

For a brief moment, Tanzer didn’t understand what that meant and was left in confusion.

After some time, she realized it was an expression of sentiment toward the same feeling she had and gasped.

If someone like Tanzer, who didn’t understand the logic of things, voiced such a sentiment, she would surely be punished and reprimanded. But this was not that kind of person.

Not just an adult, but a person of high standing.

One of the nine, the symbol of strength in this strength-revering Empire.

“—I also deeply hate the way this country is.”

With that gentle and affectionate smile, this person disclosed her true feelings to Tanzer.

△▼△▼△▼△

“Please, let me see Lady Yorna. I want to be by her side.”

Tanzer was fully aware of her selfishness in the fight for the very survival of the Empire.

So she was prepared to endure any slurs and insults thrown her way. She would accept any tirade or contempt, aiming to be true to her feelings.

Yet, despite thinking that—

“—Ah, that’s the plan. Show your face properly, and go talk to her.”

At times, the desires of Tanzer were always put off selfishly; yet, in moments like these, it was as if the black-haired boy could read her thoughts.

That’s what made him exasperating.

“—Lady Yorna.”

The moment she called out, Tanzer spread her small body to absorb the gleaming silver light, saving the precious woman who was almost beheaded.

The shock coursed through her entire body, sending tingles down to her fingertips.

But she bit her teeth so that the pain wouldn’t reach the precious woman she protected, not the one who struck her.

“—Ugh.”

She managed to swallow a groan, braving it.

While there were many annoyances on ordinary days, she was grateful for her usually unfriendly face in such moments. She had managed to appear undisturbed.

In reality, if it weren’t for the ice shield she had secretly prepared, she would have surely been cut in two.

“Although we have the same face, everyone, step aside!”

Following Tanzer’s bravado was a bold, ringing voice.

Tanzer’s life was spared because of the silver-haired half-elf—Emilia, who gracefully descended into the Imperial Capital and directed her hands towards the undead with the same face aligned beside her.

In the next instant, a high-pitched sound that shattered glass enveloped the area, and clear ice rose from the ground, one by one imprisoning the undead, locking them in icy prisons.

In the blink of an eye, the undead flew away, dodged low, or attempted to slash at the frozen bindings with their blades. —However, few hit the mark.

Those who leaped froze in mid-air, those who ducked faced the ground, and those who drew their blades became part of the blossoming ice flowers, literally turning into ice there and then.

The incoming stream of nearly twenty undead was completely swallowed up, leaving only a few to escape. It was Emilia’s overwhelming suppression ability.

While Tanzer wished to commend her in words, right now—

“—At last. At long last, I can see you again.”

As the ice shield broke and fell to the ground, dispersing into mana before it touched the earth, Tanzer embraced the head of the kneeling woman. She was tall enough that being held like this was familiar, but it was the first time Tanzer had ever hugged her.

Honestly, being treated this way felt ticklish.

Although she thought it would reflect poorly, it was uncomfortable to feel like a child again. Yet she didn’t dislike it, and her thoughts about being treated like a child changed.

Schwarz and Cecilis would do what they wanted, no matter how small or childlike.

Being a child may provide some obstacles when trying to act, but it’s far from a reason to give up. And Tanzer returned that sentiment with her whole body.

As she embraced the woman—Yorna, who bled and widened her blue eyes in surprise—Tanzer faced the enemy, the obstructing fool before her.

And—

“Any scoundrel aiming a blade at Lady Yorna is a disgrace, but I will be your opponent.”

She declared this clearly, affirming her position.

“――――”

In response to Tanzer’s declaration, the undead men and Yorna were left speechless.

Were they dumbfounded by Tanzer’s unexpected emergence, or by her foolishness? Regardless, Tanzer prepared herself while holding onto Yorna.

Then—

“Hey, get outta the way!”

“Whoa, whoa!?”

Before Tanzer could move, Emilia’s charge was faster.

With her long legs, Emilia swung down the ice hammer she had created with both hands onto the standing undead. The undead man, who had been focused on Tanzer, struck it away with surprise and faced Emilia.

“Your fight is with me!”

“Now, did that girl over there say she’d be my opponent?”

“Tanzer just met Lady Yorna after so long! You and… You guys? Same face, but… You won’t interfere!”

“Though it’s troubling, there is only one of me, Rauan Segmunt. You don’t need to fret over numbers.”

“I won’t let you interfere!”

Reiterating her statement, Emilia summoned ice dual blades, and the cruelly smiling undead—all its multiple Rauans—squared off against her with the same stance.

Behind them, Tanzer tried to intervene, crying out, “Emilia-sama!”

But—

“It’s fine, just talk with Lady Yorna first. —I’m being asked by Subaru.”

“――――”

Upon hearing Schwarz’s name, Tanzer paused slightly.

In that brief moment, Emilia, with a smile, shifted her expression to something serious as she stepped towards the Rauans with their swords sheathed and said—

“—Icicle Line.”

As Emilia uttered those words, the surroundings turned stark white.

Amidst the colors, silver and white blended, as the ice-encrusted dual blades confronted the Rauans, who grinned widely.

Then, a storm of ice pillars rained down.

““Oooh!?””

“I’m coming!”

The Rauans, who apparently thought they’d be competing in sword techniques, were caught off guard by the icy barrage and braced to repel Emilia’s oncoming attack.

With nimble ice weaponry clashing against the swinging blades of the undead, the swordsmanship began.

In the backdrop of that swordplay, Tanzer benefited from Emilia’s consideration and looked back at Yorna. She still bore a face that didn’t grasp the situation.

“I’ve never seen Lady Yorna look like that before.”

“—Is that you, Tanzer?”

With a slight droop at the corners of her eyes, Tanzer, gazing closely, saw Yorna form the first meaningful words since they reunited. At that question, Tanzer nodded. It had been almost two months since they parted ways in Chaos Frame.

It was entirely understandable for her to be presumed dead since she hadn’t sent any word.

“However, I am safe. I came back to be with Lady Yorna.”

Tanzer firmly returned Yorna’s gaze as she spoke.

The words she directed at Yorna, who seemed bewildered by reality, held a power that felt foreign even though they originated from her.

It was likely due to the influence of those who could express sentiments like that without hesitation.

In the two months apart from Yorna, Tanzer had gone through various experiences. —However, there had also been changes in Yorna.

Yorna appeared before Tanzer in a beautiful blue dress. No longer in her familiar kimono, her hair was let down, a sight that evoked feelings of wonder within Tanzer.

Not for questioning Yorna’s shift in style, but rather because she had none of the adornments—gifts bestowed by the residents of Chaos Frame.

The citizens of the Magic City lived to love and respect Yorna above all.

To convey their sentiment, they honed and crafted the very traits that led to their expulsion as subhumans into beautiful adornments meant for Yorna.

From hairpins to earrings, clasped obi, and even the needles and threads that passed through her kimono—Yorna wore the hopes and devotion of those who dwelled within Chaos Frame, displaying her noble presence.

Among them was a comb carved from a piece of Tanzer’s sister Zoe’s horn.

“Tanzer…”

As her name was called with quivering lips, Tanzer waited for Yorna to steady her emotions.

It was partly to support Emilia in fighting Rauan, but right now, Tanzer wanted to focus all her effort on sorting Yorna’s feelings in front of her. Timidly, Yorna’s finger reached for Tanzer’s cheek, confirming the sensation before she spoke to her.

But Yorna’s finger never touched Tanzer’s face.

“Lady Yorna?”

Just before she could touch, Yorna tightly shut her eyes and pushed Tanzer’s chest away, stepping back a pace.

The distance between the two, who finally managed to embrace each other, widened again, and Tanzer blinked in confusion. Yorna’s true intentions were lost on her, and she opened her mouth.

“What have you come to this place for?”

“――――”

“This Imperial Capital is a city of the undead… In this place, abandoned by the soldiers of the Empire, even the ‘Nine Divine Generals’ and the Emperor themselves, why has a daughter like you come here?”

Lifting her knees from the ground, Yorna stood up and glared at Tanzer intensely. Tanzer slightly shrank under her narrowed eyes.

For just a moment, she didn’t understand what was being said. But soon, she recognized it as a rejection of her presence.

Yorna, a woman of compassion who accepted everything, rejected Tanzer.

“This place is too harsh and wasteland-like for the living. It would be wise to leave immediately. If you can’t, should I send you away myself?”

“… If you separate the living and the dead that way, Lady Yorna too must be bound by—”

“What, by that? —Are you equating yourself to me?”

As Yorna stretched her hand toward Tanzer, trying to retort back, she didn’t reach Tanzer’s cheek but instead grabbed her by the collar.

Caught by Yorna’s slender fingers, Tanzer’s small body was lifted off the ground.

She had been lifted before. Yet she had never been treated so roughly.

“Tanzer and I do not stand on the same side. I wish to stay by the side of someone special. At last, I can be with that person again. Therefore…”

“Yorna-sama…”

“You and the rest no longer hold any need for me.”

With her breath nearly upon Tanzer, Yorna gazed into her face. What was said next revealed Yorna’s reason for remaining in a city teeming with the undead.

It was not that she had been captured, but that she longed to remain here of her own volition.

“――――”

As Yorna looked into her, Tanzer peered back into Yorna’s blue eyes.

Within the depths of those eyes, Tanzer saw the pieces of longing that never faded, even while Yorna interacted gently with the citizens of the Magic City.

Yorna Mishigure had continuously sought something.

It must have been far too vast and distant to fathom through Tanzer. Even Yorna herself, unable to grasp it.

It was something she knew shone brightly yet shimmered out of reach, like a star.

Yorna had been searching for that all along.

Everyone, including Tanzer, knew that she was a seeker of such things. If her wish was granted, they would pray in hope, and if it were not, Tanzer wanted to offer something in its place.

Not just Tanzer; everyone thought the same way.

And at last, they believed Yorna’s wish had been granted and that it had reached the stars.

If that was the reason Tanzer still held onto her collar—

“—Reject me with a happier face, Lady Yorna.”

So Tanzer, holding onto Yorna’s wrist, spoke to her, this important person who was clumsily lying.

△▼△▼△▼△

—Ah, I’ve become a bad child.

While gripping her slender white wrist, Tanzer lamented the change that had overcome her.

It shouldn’t have been this way. Tanzer had her own ideal self—a vision she longed to emulate, one who was strong and kind like her sister Zoe.

—Zoe was a woman of great character and a compassionate heart.

Her homeland had been destroyed because a superstition spread that the horns of the deerfolk could be brewed into a universal remedy, which attracted marauding bandits vying for high prices.

Her father and mother were killed, and still just a child, Tanzer had escaped, holding tight to her sister’s hand.

But the suffering for the sisters didn’t end there. Setting their sights on the horns time and again, they faced many dangers, and in the Volakia Empire, the weak were fair game.

Tanzer could now imagine the hardships her sister had undergone just for a single bowl of soup, having aged since those years. Simultaneously, she felt a deep hatred for herself for having relied on Zoe’s protection without being able to do anything.

“Tanzer, don’t curse anyone. Those who easily curse others could be cursed just as easily.”

One night, as the sisters divided a single bowl of soup while wrapped in ragged clothes, Zoe told Tanzer those words.

No one showed them kindness, and everyone was cold towards both Tanzer and Zoe. When Tanzer vented her frustrations about the cruel world, her kind sister would always reprimand her.

Zoe admonished Tanzer not with irritation but out of a mother’s heart. —Zoe was still at an age where she wanted to lean on a parent; becoming one herself was far too soon.

The superstition surrounding the deerfolk’s horns proved persistent, and the sisters could never stay in one place for long.

They kept running, running, tirelessly fleeing, until they eventually heard the rumors of the “Magic City” Chaos Frame.

They said it was a paradise where many subhumans gathered and lived, a haven for the rejected.

The mistress ruling there was strong, overflowing with kindness, and a magnificent person who wouldn’t allow the weak to be oppressed. —Tanzer thought, in her childlike wisdom, that such a thing was foolish.

No one could possibly exist like that. How could someone so convenient possibly be real?

If such a person existed, why would their parents be dead? Why was Zoe so ragged and thin, holding Tanzer’s hand?

So—

“—You’ve worked hard, Zoe, Tanzer.”

When they finally arrived at that improbable paradise, the beautiful woman in a kimono embraced the dirty, tattered sisters.

Tanzer heard Zoe cry for the first time.

On the day their parents died, on the day they were paraded for a bowl of soup, on the day Tanzer had cruelly insulted her sister—Zoe had never cried.

Seeing Zoe weep and cling to the woman with tears flowing reminded Tanzer that she also cried out loud from the depths of her heart.

They must never lose that paradise created by this woman—no, they must never lose the woman known as Yorna Mishigure.

—Being provided with meals and a bed, Zoe clad in a kimono was beautiful and Tanzer’s pride.

Many wished to serve Yorna. Among them, Zoe was the most earnest and diligent, and Yorna acknowledged her and came to treasure her.

Tanzer took pride in Zoe’s role, serving the amazing Yorna and comfortably taking on important duties.

Someday, she hoped to be like her sister, serving Yorna with all her heart, sharing the essence of the paradise known as Chaos Frame with many suffering weaklings.

Zoe died two years after that life began.

While guiding a group of subhumans seeking the protection of Chaos Frame near the fort of the imperial soldiers on an expedition, Zoe was struck down while trying to escort them to the Magic City as Yorna’s representative.

The imperial soldiers had set upon the group as a mock enemy, murdering her so swiftly that she was beyond saving. They savagely struck her down unrelated to the horns, leaving her remains exposed.

“Tanzer, don’t curse anyone. Those who easily curse others could be cursed just as easily.”

Zoe’s words echoed in Tanzer’s mind, and her heart was torn to shreds by despair.

Was it wrong to curse someone? Was it still wrong? If only her sister, who finally could have been happy, hadn’t been killed, could she not curse someone?

“Do you dislike this country, my lord?”

Such words were thrown at the Tanzer, tormented by despair, her heart aching as if her horn were about to snap.

Still in the kimono she borrowed from her sister, her knowledge scarcely matching even a servant’s before her, and her weak and fragile heart hiding even her innermost thoughts.

She lamented being seen through as she felt the other person’s touch on her cheek.

“I feel the same way.”

In that moment, that person recognized her anger, her curses, affirming them.

And that person moved, rather than Tanzer, who held no power to shape those curses, standing up against the great, monstrous Empire.

“—I also deeply hate the way this country is.”

Yorna Mishigure, as if declaring rebellion against the Empire, did so for someone else’s sake.

Knowing that about the woman, Tanzer didn’t want this to happen.

She wanted to be a good child for Yorna.

She wanted to be a good child who wouldn’t make Yorna sad.

She desired to be a reliable follower, one who wouldn’t trouble Yorna, like her sister Zoe.

—Yet, despite all that, Tanzer had become a bad child.

“Lady Yorna saved my sister.”

Firmly grasping the wrist that held onto her collar, Tanzer articulated those words.

For some reason, those unexpected reactions and actions caught Yorna off guard, her blue eyes widened, her lips trembling slightly.

Tanzer didn’t miss the way her trembling lips shaped ‘Zoe,’ her sister’s name.

“Lady Yorna listened to my selfish wishes.”

After Zoe lost her life, Tanzer had once asked Yorna for her own sake, to avenge her sister in the confrontation against the Empire and had wished to serve in place of her sister.

A shameless request that exceeded audacity, one Yorna had kindly accepted.

With honest effort, Tanzer served her, and Yorna allowed her to do so.

“Lady Yorna has brought happiness to many lives.”

Not just regarding herself or Zoe, but about how much support Yorna had provided to so many.

How many lives had been saved or protected and how many had connected through Yorna. Tanzer’s words and actions were merely a fragment of that gratitude.

If Yorna could leave all such things behind and advance freely, that would be wonderful.

If Yorna wished to lighten her load and soar to reach the stars, that would be fine too.

Tanzer wouldn’t wish to hold Yorna back unless Yorna were happy. If she were to wish for Yorna to stay by her side while Yorna herself was not happy, that would be a selfish wish, akin to a curse.

So, at the very least, if Yorna were to break the connection, she hoped Yorna would smile while wishing for happiness.

If that couldn’t be managed—

“—Lady Yorna loves us.”

Holding tightly to the present, she declared in a way not in the past.

In front of her, Yorna’s open eyes widened even further in shock. She appeared completely astonished, as if she hadn’t imagined Tanzer would respond.

She might be right. Tanzer truly wished to serve Yorna. She wanted to quietly follow her words with all her heart, just like Zoe.

However, the signs that she wasn’t fit for it must have appeared, presenting an opportunity for their separation.

To prevent the Emperor and the false Emperor visiting Chaos Frame from dragging Yorna into the chaos of war, Tanzer acted on her own, foolishly escalating the turmoil.

As a result, Tanzer eventually separated from Yorna and saw and heard many things.

In the eventful reunion, Tanzer directly opposed Yorna.

She had become a bad child. She had become a bad child indeed.

Wanting Yorna to be happy, she also didn’t want Yorna to compromise her actions in pursuit of happiness. For that, she was prepared to overlook Yorna’s words and prayers.

She had indeed become a bad child.

“—Ah.”

Yorna gaped in astonishment, a thin sigh escaping her lips.

That was in response to the pain of having her wrist gripped so tightly. Tanzer, in turn, firmly gripped Yorna’s wrist, the same wrist that clutched her collar.

If Yorna had truly come to disregard Tanzer and the others, if she were pursuing her own wishes without a care, it wouldn’t have felt this way.

Yorna’s **Soul Marriage Technique** bestows power to beloved beings.

It follows that the logic could apply to Yorna herself—self-love—manifesting as feelings of affirmation and confidence in her actions.

As long as she firmly believes herself to be correct, the extraordinary power of Yorna Mishigure flourishes.

But if she can’t believe it, what then?

A member of the Nine Divine Generals and one of the pinnacles of the Volakia Empire’s strength, in the absence of conviction in her actions, Yorna would begin to lose that power.

So much so, that she might even be outclassed by the strengths of a **Zombie Swordsman**.

Yorna could not encourage the back of someone she did not love, could not validate what she could not affirm.

Therefore, she could not press forward with her own back.

Thus—

“—But, Lady Yorna, that love cannot be faked.”

With a blue flame igniting in her left eye, Tanzer believed in Yorna’s love without question.

“――――”

Yorna stood dumbfounded as she set her feet down on the ground, eyes ablaze as she looked at herself through Tanzer’s eyes.

While holding her wrist tightly, she stared incredulously at Tanzer’s face, at the blazing proof of ‘love’ that shimmered in her eyes.

It was as if she had been led to believe that she could easily fool her own heart.

“Lady Yorna, you are not that adept. —You always relied on me, my sister, and the many who love you to tie your hair or wear your kimono.”

As she said this, Tanzer stretched upward, reaching to touch Yorna’s cheek.

Similar to how someone lovingly desired to shower affection upon another. When Tanzer’s fingertips brushed against Yorna’s skin, her blue eyes widened, trembling.

It was like the heart of stone was shattering, just as it had the first time her sister wept.

Then—

“—No! Tanzer-chan!”

From behind Tanzer, Emilia’s desperate voice and Zoe’s powerful leap pierced her eardrums.

Simultaneously, the sound of a blade rushing from its scabbard—one of the Rauans had snuck through Emilia’s defense and was approaching them.

“Step aside, girl! This is a stage I’ve longed to dream about!”

With that self-serving statement, the enemy rushed in like a gale.

Certainly over her shoulder, Yorna must have seen that opponent. Suddenly, her hand reached for Tanzer’s shoulder, pushing her back in an attempt to shield her.

“As repayment for earlier, I’ll be the shield for you now.”

“However, I won’t let you.”

“Tanzer…?”

Bracing against the pushing hand, Tanzer refused that action. Instead, she turned to shield Yorna, facing the gruesome golden eyes approaching her.

The blade aimed for Tanzer’s neck, slicing through to Yorna’s chest behind her. The air chilled to a crisp, the deadly blow barreled toward Tanzer—

“—Oof.”

“Is this your dreamed stage?”

Suppressing the gasp in the back of her throat, Tanzer was taken aback by Rauan’s astonished golden gaze.

Of course, he hadn’t expected a mere child to catch such a powerful attack directed at her.

With a raised hand, Tanzer grasped the silver light slicing the air and came to a halt.

—Yorna’s **Soul Marriage Technique** bestows power to beloved beings.

If one possesses a belief in being right and without doubt about being loved, that power would swell tremendously.

“I’m sure Tanzer is on my side, so she must think so too, right?”

Ah, irritation brewed within her. She had gained the assurance of being loved, becoming a “bad child.”

It felt incredibly itchy, unbearably so. It was a good thing she was known for holding her expression well.

“I’m sorry. I’m quite busy, so I don’t have time to entertain dreamlike fantasies.”

With a grip on the seized sword, she forced it to bend and break, as Tanzer threw a powerful punch straight at the obstructing face.

With such force, the punch dug into the bridge of his nose and struck the back of his head, making her declaration.

Days spent merely praying for a paradise or an important wish had come to an end.

If one wanted a paradise or an important wish, one had to act to seize it.

That was the answer Tanzer had found—rescued by her sister, aided by Yorna, and having met Natsuki Schwarz and the Pleiades Battalion, which led her to this moment.

“—The painful, harsh, yet dear reality awaits.”

To reach those stars, there was no time to stand still.