—Thanks to the plan devised by Natsuki Subaru, the “Rescue Team of the Volakia Empire from Destruction” scattered throughout the Imperial Capital.

Each member was set to fulfill their respective roles, aiming for coordination that would “not interfere with each other,” but the crux of the operation did not rest with any of the fighters in the Imperial Capital.

The focal point of this operation was, quite simply, the Empire’s total might remaining in Fortress City Garkla.

A city that deployed a large military force and housed individuals acting as the brain and heart of Volakia.

How much of the advancing army of undead could be held back here would significantly impact the final battle for the survival of the Volakia Empire, and consequently, the fate of the entire world.

The more that undead forces gathered at the Fortress City, the easier it would become for the Imperial Capital’s “Rescue Team from Destruction” to maneuver. Conversely, if the Fortress City fell, even if the Imperial Capital’s strategies succeeded, it would make any future restoration of the Empire impossible.

In other words—

“—This is precisely where the showdown is, ‘Tennozan’!”

Wielding his knight’s sword and uttering words unfamiliar to his ears, Julius Euclius sprinted through the walls of Fortress City, soaring through the air with grace.

The tip of the elegant knight’s sword was aimed at the swarm of undead attempting to breach the city walls. With a fierce strike, he drove his weapon into the wall, crafting an impromptu foothold from which he dropped down on the climbing enemies with unyielding sword techniques.

“I won’t let you through!”

He slashed down at the undead trying to climb up, cutting them down to the ground below.

Having jumped onto a sword that served as a foothold, Julius turned his eyes to the numerous weapons embedded in the wall and called out—

“Aro! I want to borrow your wind!”

Immediately after he called out, a swirling green wind coiled around him, pulling weapons from the wall and rendering the undead’s efforts at building a foothold moot.

Finally, he broke the sword he had used as a footrest and jumped back onto the city wall.

Gently tapping the green light of the spirit he was contracted with, Julius exhaled softly.

He had succeeded in repelling the enemies clinging to the wall, but let down his guard too soon.

Even if the outermost city wall was breached, there were secondary and tertiary defenses within the city, as well as a solid fortress—yet—

“They’ve pushed this far quicker than expected!”

“—Lady Talitta!”

Standing atop the wall, Julius was approached by a tanned woman with black hair dyed blue—Talitta, the warrior leading the People of Shudrak.

With warriors primarily armed with bows, the Shudrak tribe served as the main force in this city fortification, and Talitta, particularly skilled in archery, was a key defense component at this point.

In fact, she was achieving the same results from the wall by shooting arrows as Julius did by pulling weapons out, successfully obstructing the undead from crossing the wall.

Julius admired her prowess but could not ignore the harsh reality of her words.

“—In such a short time, the front line has been pushed back significantly.”

As he spoke, Julius gazed outside the city wall and rubbed the scar beneath his left eye.

Ahead of Julius’s keen gaze, the horizon appeared to waver—a clear indication of the massive horde of undead advancing toward them.

The originally laid defensive line had already been breached, forcing the Imperial soldiers engaged in battle outside to withdraw and shrink their front. Naturally, considering the overwhelming enemy numbers, it was anticipated that this would happen sooner or later.

“Every now and then, a particularly tough undead sneaks in and makes things difficult.”

“I agree. We’ll need to deal with them swiftly whenever we spot them, but…”

Just then, as Julius voiced it,

“—!!”

A collective of fighters battling below was suddenly blown away in unison.

What he saw streaking through the air with a horrifying scream was Subaru, who had arrived as reinforcements with the members of the Pleiades Battalion.

Whatever miraculous scheme had brought them together, each bore an unusual strength, and what sent them scattering was a female undead with a fearsome, wicked appearance, her arms merged with massive swords.

“Damn it… they really did it this time…”

“Wait, wait, wait! Don’t rush in without a plan! You’ll burden your brothers!”

“Fall back! Surround her and take her down!”

Facing the terrifying undead, the group that had been taken out managed to stand strong.

Normally, it would be praiseworthy not to have any casualties and not lose morale, but even Julius could see that this lady warrior was undeniably first-rate.

Realizing he needed to rush in, Julius decided to leave the wall to Talitta and leaped down.

“—No, the ‘Lion Knight’ said so himself.”

A cheerful voice resonated in Julius’s ears, discordant amidst the battlefield. The information the voice brought changed the situation on the battlefield immediately.

Golz, wielding a golden hammer and spear, charged toward the two-weapon wielding fighter.

“We never had a chance to meet, but it’s unmistakable! It’s you, the ‘Sword Slave Empress’!”

The clash between Golz’s hammer-spear and the female warrior’s swords created shockwaves that rattled the battlefield.

Both wielded super-heavy weapons that a normal person could never lift, causing surrounding Imperial soldiers and undead to scatter like leaves before a storm.

Neither side would yield an inch, but progress halted. Leaving that situation to Golz was the best option.

“Thanks for stopping me, Flopp.”

“Hahaha, it’s nothing! I need to make sure that ‘Siyu’ and Lady Talitta can focus on the battle at hand! As a non-combatant, it’s all I can do to help!”

Flopp chuckled without a hint of concern; his usual cheeriness stood even in battle.

Despite being a non-combatant and a brother of a candidate for the imperial concubine, he had been ordered to remain within the fortress. His appearance at the front line of the wall shocked Talitta.

“Flopp!? What are you doing here…?”

“Well, it appears we’re in total war now. For those who can’t fight, there’re still many tasks to attend to, like aiding the injured or repairing equipment. Naturally, I’m one of them.”

Flopp patted his slender chest and handed a quiver to Talitta.

Taken aback by receiving it, though Talitta already carried a quiver, her remaining arrows were scant, so Flopp’s supply was timely.

It seemed he had walked around distributing quivers to others from Shudrak on the wall.

It was a display embodying the phrase, “Everyone’s in combat, including the non-combatants.”

“How’s the battle situation?”

“—Everyone’s fighting valiantly. As long as we stay defensive, we should be able to hold the wall for a while. However, that also…”

“If a ‘Flying Dragon Rider’ shows up, it changes the story.”

Talitta responded to Flopp’s question, and Julius seized upon her hesitant words to conclude.

Flopp’s expression tightened due to that answer, as it should, given he was a young man usually seen with a cheerful smile.

However, it was reasonable for him to look serious.

Anyone from the Volakia Empire was more than aware of the terror that a ‘Flying Dragon Rider’ posed.

—Just after the battle commenced, the first wave of undead had been repelled by Julius’s and the People of Shudrak’s collective assault. However, sporadic aerial threats continued to present themselves, and the Shudrak warriors assigned to neutralize the undead flying dragons dealt with them effectively.

But that was possible only because there were no undead ‘Flying Dragon Riders’ in the enemy ranks.

The capabilities of a lone flying dragon without a rider could not compare to those teamed up with a ‘Flying Dragon Rider.’

A single ‘Flying Dragon Rider’ could potentially overwhelm a horde of a hundred flying dragons. The strategic use of the skies by a ‘Flying Dragon Rider’ was exceptional.

—Once, Julius had crossed swords with a ‘Flying Dragon Rider.’

Back then, he had miraculously won thanks to Felix’s assistance during their encounter. Had he faced that ‘Flying Dragon Rider’ alone, the outcome would most definitely have been reversed.

While there were not many ‘Flying Dragon Riders’ of that caliber in the Empire, it was not impossible to envision the appearance of an undead ‘Flying Dragon Rider’ with a horde of undead flying dragons in this battle.

“Of course, it’s not that I’m unconcerned if other ‘Flying Dragon Riders’ were to revive, but I doubt that Balroi will show up.”

“Flopp?”

“While it’s a different story if other ‘Flying Dragon Riders’ have been resurrected, you needn’t worry about Balroi showing up.”

Speaking with unsettling certainty, Flopp dismissed Julius’s concerns.

Julius frowned at that statement, and Talitta, releasing arrows at the undead on the wall, confirmed the successful hit on an enemy’s knee while they exchanged glances.

“What makes you say that so authoritatively?”

“Balroi knows that Medium and I are riding the Dragon Carriage. Naturally, he assumes we’re in this Fortress City. It seems unlikely he’d notice us here.”

“That’s…”

Flopp closed one eye, causing Talitta to struggle to find words for a moment.

Julius also thought Flopp’s reasoning was unsound. If he was counting on sentiments or mercy from Balroi, then—

“Sadly, one cannot rely on such aspects of one’s humanity from back when they were alive. Zombies… the thought processes of the undead are warped. Otherwise, so many would not be cooperating in their own country’s ruin.”

There were a staggering number of undead mobilized, filling the horizon.

It was hard to imagine that all these undead, having risen from death, bore deep grievances against the Volakia Empire and picked up arms to fulfill their ambitions.

It made more sense to think the necromancer controlling the undead held sway over them.

In response to Julius’s assertion, Flopp nodded with an acknowledging “Indeed,” while scratching his cheek.

“I share the same opinion as ‘Siyu.’ The dead, in essence, have had their thoughts altered. However, I see indications that there are still parts of them that remain unchanged.”

“So you mean that Balroi retains emotions and compassion?”

“Well, that would certainly tug at the strings of one’s heart! But that’s not the case, ‘Siyu.’ It’s something you and Talitta are more perceptive of than I am.”

“Us?”

Grasping at the lack of understanding, Julius and Talitta exchanged looks.

The reference to things they could detect that Flopp himself, having known Balroi during his living days, could not was—

“—How he fights.”

“—”

“Even if one’s thoughts might change, if they stripped away one’s fighting techniques, that would negate the very purpose of their resurrection. Hence, the fighting style of the undead is likely that of their living selves, wouldn’t you say?”

“…I cannot say that with certainty, but the possibility is high.”

Though they did not know too intimately the forms of the undead they had fought, Flopp’s speculation hit the mark.

Noticing the affirmative reactions from Julius and Talitta, Flopp smiled.

It was a smile imbued with a hint of nostalgia and sadness, a deeply sorrowful smile.

“If Balroi were to come here, he would have shown up before anyone else and pierced the city’s vital points. The ‘Magic Bullet Shooter’ Balroi Temegurif did not charge in first. That’s the basis for my belief that Balroi is not on this battlefield.”

—Balroi Temegurif abhorred wasting his subordinates’ lives.

However, that did not imply he was an altruist who rejected the “Iron-blooded Code” upheld by Volakia or opposed imperialism.

For Balroi, born in a shabby commoner’s household, the imperial dictate of elevating the strong while oppressing the weak suited him well. Taking advantage of that societal structure to rise and then flip the script upon gaining status was a contradiction.

Still, Balroi did not engage the imperialism that deeply. It was merely that the circumstances he found himself in had been convenient for his nature and talents.

Thus, Balroi’s disdain for wasting lives was ultimately unrelated to imperialism.

This attitude was one that Balroi had acquired from influences outside—principally from two people.

One was Selena Dracloy, the benefactor who recognized his talents and provided opportunities for education and meeting his love dragon.

The other was Miles, an older associate who took advantage of Balroi’s juvenile naivety, steering him into mischief while evading his pursuers.

The daily interactions between these two, embodying both the essence and absence of imperial traits, forged the character of Balroi Temegurif.

And so this cultivated nature within Balroi strongly disapproved of unnecessary sacrifices among his subordinates.

His subordinates were those within his reach—a family to him. He despised the idea of losing family.

Therefore, even when he collaborated with the schemed rebellion that played into the Emperor’s plans, Balroi did not lead his men but instead joined alone.

Ironically, he lost his life in the process, which made Balroi’s judgment both wrong and right.

—In battle, one must accept that both allies and enemies may die.

He would take lives, including those of others. He could not demand otherwise for those closest to him. Yet if he sought to hold to this reasoning, he could only fulfill that through his own power.

This is why Balroi Temegurif concluded that the fastest solution was to execute a sharpshoot.

Using his love dragon’s wings to soar through the skies, he created perfect moments, able to shoot through the enemy’s vital points in the blink of an eye—this was the best method of achieving his wish.

Balroi was a man of the Empire. No matter how many enemies died, he would not flinch.

But losing family was another matter entirely. Thus, Balroi’s aim sought decisive, rapid conclusions. He believed it was the best way to avoid casualties among his kin.

Therefore—

“—I get it now, Karyon.”

Responding to a call from his deceased love dragon, Balroi stood at the bedside.

On the bed lay Madelin, unconscious. —Her consciousness had now returned into the shell of the dragon, Mezoleia.

There was no need to mention how exceedingly dangerous it was to unleash the power of ‘dragons’ upon the Imperial Capital.

However, based on the enemies he faced, labeling it as excessive could not truly account for it.

“Though I served one, it’s troubling what they’re doing now, isn’t it, those of the Empire?”

It was indeed remarkable that the world’s most resilient creature—the ‘dragon’—was matched, if not overshadowed, by a certain monster.

Though he held a title placing him alongside such beings, Balroi did not think his skills could stand comparison.

However, strength and victory did not always correlate absolutely.

Sweeping aside the sky-blue hair from Madelin’s forehead, Balroi proceeded toward the balcony where his love dragon awaited. On the way, he grabbed a propped spear, finding Karyon, arms folded, gazing at him with his back to the white terrace.

When Balroi stroked Karyon at the root of his wings, his love dragon nuzzled its long neck against Balroi’s shoulder.

That bond had endured since the dragon had hatched. His quirks had remained unchanged even since the time he had been a small, fragile baby flying dragon.

“Quirks and preferences never change, even in death. …Can’t say that about humans, though.”

He self-deprecatingly chuckled, giving a playful slap to Karyon’s back. At that cue, Karyon hunched down, and Balroi sprang onto his back, facing forward.

Peering out over the balcony of the Crystal Palace, the vast sight of the Imperial Capital revealed that much of the once-beautifully orderly city was in chaos, wrecked, suffused with the air of a battlefield.

This atmosphere of war was not limited to just the Imperial Capital but spread throughout the Empire—especially over Fortress City Garkla, where the undead hordes had been dispatched strongly and thickly.

The Fortress City was engulfed in intense battles with evacuees from the Imperial Capital and Imperial soldiers. Normally, Balroi should have launched an assault on the city.

However—

“—I too understand the sensation of being hesitant. Given you risk not revealing your true abilities, it would not be prudent to proceed. Tactical command is essential.”

The sorceress who resurrected Balroi—the ‘Witch’ who called herself Sphinx—was the one who sought to keep him in the Imperial Capital. It felt less like concern for Balroi and more like wanting to verify this new sensation blooming within her—experiencing an unknown flavor.

Naturally, there was no doubt Balroi was expected to subdue Madelin, who had defected to this side, and bring the ‘Cloud Dragon’ Mezoleia into the fold.

While he had thoughts on that anticipated role, it was advantageous for Balroi that he remained in the Imperial Capital, excluding the need to bump into familiar siblings in Fortress City.

This too was based on Sphinx’s calculations, and Balroi himself instinctively felt that—

“If it were the Case, he would have come, don’t you think?”

The Vincent Volakia Balroi knew was a cold and ruthless Emperor.

During peaceful times, he would never budge from his castle, but would make sure to stand upon the battleground for the final confrontation. This custom applied not solely to Vincent but all Emperors of Volakia.

This was also reflective of the so-called Imperial “Iron-blooded Code.”

And so, out of all, Vincent, who despised the Volakia Empire the most, would strive to earnestly fulfill his role as the Emperor of Volakia, thus he would inevitably come to the Imperial Capital.

He would come carrying the ‘Sun Sword’ to eliminate the mastermind behind this “Great Calamity”—Sphinx.

“—Chisha, you played me like a fool.”

In the midst of this “Great Calamity,” neither the implications of the undead nor his own existence were grasped. It was an unparalleled opportunity; however, Balroi’s ambush failed to reach Vincent.

Chisha’s heroism had safeguarded Vincent, while the quickest victory over the “Great Calamity” slipped further away.

But—

“Next time, I won’t allow anyone to be a shield for you.”

He would certainly not let the next opportunity slip away.

If Vincent were to enter the Imperial Capital himself, Balroi would surely pierce his heart. By doing so, he would sever any hope for the Volakia Empire.

And from there, the threat of this “Great Calamity” would head north, even endangering the Lugnica Kingdom.

“—!!”

In that brief moment, the howl of his love dragon drew Balroi’s attention toward ‘that.’

“——”

Lifting his gaze at the tickling sensation at the nape of his neck, Balroi doubted his eyes.

Riding on Karyon’s back, he peered across the battlefield known as the Imperial Capital, searching for Vincent, the intended target, keeping a keen watch on any changes.

Outside Balroi’s line of vigilance, balls of flame poured down straight from above the most beautiful castle in the world.

“Karyon!”

With a sharp call, his love dragon reacted instantly, spreading his wings and taking off into the sky, the lift from his flaps shooting their massive bodies upward. With each powerful flap, their speed and altitude skyrocketed as Balroi clung on while scything past the rushing flames from the undead.

The fireballs surged toward them, as large as humans, descending with unrelenting ferocity. —In response, Balroi aimed a spear toward them.

“Not happening!”

The spearpoint aimed skyward shimmered with soft light, and in an instant, invisible orbs of light were released, colliding with the falling fireballs midair, resulting in explosions that painted the sky red.

This wasn’t just one shot. Two, three—up to thirteen rounds of light orbs struck down the fireballs, drowning the air of the Imperial Capital in thundering sounds as Balroi soared through the expanding blaze.

“What the hell is going on here, raining flames down from above the clouds?”

Balroi brushed past the showers of flames but couldn’t help but be impressed with his opponent’s maneuver.

If the fireballs had been heading straight to the castle, or shot through like arrows or projectiles in parabolas, Balroi would have easily spotted them from the Crystal Palace. The clear reason he couldn’t perceive it was due to the fireballs descending from way out, from above the thick clouds, aiming directly at the top of the palace.

Put into words, the act was simple and straightforward. However, pulling off something like hitting a pebble thrown several kilometers away was a left-field feat altogether—achieving such a deed without using one’s hands was nothing short of unimaginable.

Yet, Balroi, notwithstanding being among the few in the Empire capable of casting magic, had a unique skill.

“Gotta give them a taste of their own medicine!”

Having dealt with the fireballs that had plunged from above the clouds, Karyon twisted in mid-air. Balroi oriented himself toward the far south of the Imperial Capital.

Just south of the Crystal Palace, the entrance to the Imperial Capital was guarded by Mezoleia. From the distance and angle of the descending fireballs, he deduced that the enemy should be situated slightly westward—Balroi recognized the left eye of the undead, glimmering gold, its vicinity flickering softly.

That flickering had nothing to do with Balroi’s expression; it was a change in the air surrounding his left eye.

By bending the light with magic, Balroi created a makeshift telescope for the far-off observation. Peering through it with his left eye, he steadily pointed the spear toward that direction.

By utilizing Karyon’s speed to secure shooting distance and angle, he specialized in firing light orbs to realize super-long-range sharpshooting, Balroi would commence the battle.

If it were on a flat field with no obstructions, Balroi could land a hit on a moving target several kilometers away.

“——”

Resoluting himself, Balroi closed his right eye, concentrating his awareness into his left eye.

The nonexistent telescope conjured from refracted light soared high above the city, reaching beyond the rooftops, locking onto the form of his enemy launching the fireballs at the Crystal Palace—

“—Midi.”

Letting out a breathless whisper, Balroi Temegurif’s telescope captured her image clearly.

With sunlight-like shimmer dancing in her golden hair, she was soaring into the sky, embraced in the arms of a long-robed man. Yet, with her blue eyes, she directed her gaze straight towards Balroi, who shouldn’t even be visible to her.

And her lips, though silent, spoke clearly within Balroi’s heart.

“You’re not going anywhere without my say-so. You better talk to me, Bal-brother.”