The moment he was diagonally struck by the rising blade, Yugaldo Volakia prepared himself for his very first defeat—no, his first defeat of both life and death.

For the first time, someone had crossed swords with him and stood at equal ground, even going so far as to win against him.

While he praised that skill, the fact that he was defeated at a critical moment he should not have lost gnawed at his heart, which no longer beat.

His unattainable wish was granted, and he had reunited with Iris, yet they had barely exchanged words. They hadn’t connected. He hadn’t conveyed the depth of his affection.

Even so, Yugaldo had achieved the reunion with Iris.

There must surely be others, just like Yugaldo and Iris, who longed to speak and connect with those they loved but could not.

The same phenomenon transpired in the orbit of the stars that belonged to Yugaldo and Iris.

—So he thought.

“I’m no expert wielding this sword, and honestly, just swinging it once takes a hefty toll on my energy; it’s harsh, you know.”

The black werewolf, Halibel, with thorns of a curse lodging in her heart, bemoaned this as she swung the wicked sword.

The expression on her face reminded him of a familiar werewolf of the same kind, who, despite being quite different, seemed to look at Yugaldo with such eyes at times in the past.

“Considering the energy it consumes, this sword does its job well; it’s not one you can hate.”

Aside from Yugaldo’s momentary musings, Halibel continued.

It was obvious that her sentiments were directed toward the sword—the ‘Wicked Sword’ Murakame. However, the way it was spoken felt as though the ‘Wicked Sword’ had brought more than just victory to Halibel.

It was as though the ‘Wicked Sword’ had granted something beyond victory to her—

“—Is this the thought of the Undead?”

As Yugaldo confirmed the state of his own body that had been struck, he gave voice to an indescribable sensation.

As a revenant, Yugaldo bore a sort of compulsion—an instinctual hostility and violent impulse toward the living of the empire.

This impulse was likely not unique to Yugaldo alone. Moreover, he restrained this intense urge with his feelings for Iris, which were far stronger.

Yet, unable to defy the leader who had resurrected him, Yugaldo had no choice but to comply with the bare minimum of his wishes, leading him to cross swords with both the hairy creatures and Halibel.

That undeniable force compelling him had vanished.

As if severed by the blade wrapped in dull, ominous malice, it had simply disappeared.

—————-

“Therefore, now within me, there exists only my longing for my star.”

With one hand touching his cheek, Yugaldo spoke softly to Iris, the woman who was both Iris and Yorna— Iris Yorna was left speechless, captivated.

Her pale, blue-toned skin, not devoid of warmth, and her eyes, shining black with flecks of gold, were not a counterfeit.

It reminded her that he had been someone whose facial muscles did not react regardless of his being resurrected as an Undead.

—It was undoubtedly Yugaldo Volakia, the very person Iris Yorna knew.

“What a rude guest to interrupt without a letter of apology.”

A raspy voice disrupted their reunion with vigor.

Contrary to the words spoken, the sudden intruder’s voice rang in excitement as the Undead swordsman—the ‘Zombie Swordsman’ licked his lips with eyes fixated on Yugaldo.

Yugaldo, meeting the ‘Zombie Swordsman’s gaze, maintained his composure.

“Your skill is remarkable, but unfortunately, the timing is poor. I wish to spend all the limited time I have for the sake of my star.”

“Oh, how uncaring you are—”

The ‘Zombie Swordsman,’ who found no ears to listen to his pleas, tried to respond but failed to formulate an answer.

“Stand back!”

A sharp command rang out as Iris Yorna spun her petite body in her embrace, the ice-clad feet soared into the air, fiercely kicking the ‘Zombie Swordsman’ in the midsection.

“What the—!”

The Undead adjusted his weapon and narrowly avoided the powerful kick.

Though the impact was not entirely gone, a twisted grin of mad delight appeared on the ‘Zombie Swordsman’ as he felt more joy than anger at being countered.

“Hey!”

His malicious grin was forcefully crushed under a massive ice hammer.

The frontal assault from behind squashed him from head to toe, reducing the ‘Zombie Swordsman’ to nothing but splinters. Still, they could not feel relieved.

If he could be brought down so easily, they should have defeated the ‘Zombie Swordsman’ at least fifty times by now. Like before, that Undead would surely come back again and again.

However, before engaging with the ‘Zombie Swordsman’—

“—Hmm, that strike is filled with feelings that one wouldn’t expect from a child. Given your potential, I shall overlook your rudeness.”

“Please, keep away from Yorna!”

“T-Tanzer! What are you doing to His Excellency…?”

In Iris Yorna’s sight filled with panicked screams, Yugaldo’s ‘Sun Blade’ and Tanzer’s ice-clad foot met with a grinding sound.

Having kicked the ‘Zombie Swordsman’ in order to protect Iris Yorna, Tanzer had aimed to include not just the Undead but also the suddenly intruding stranger.

It was only natural for Tanzer to lose track of friend or foe amid such chaos.

“Even so, it’s no good to suddenly go at it…! Your Excellency, I’m so sorry; this girl means no harm—”

“Don’t wear such a pained expression. If it’s you, I shall find any face charming, but I can’t help but feel guilty wanting to cherish your desperate plea.”

“Th-That’s just how he is…”

Iris Yorna attempted to explain for Tanzer, but the impression of Yugaldo’s reply was unmistakably off-mark. Such situations were commonplace in her days with Yugaldo.

Yes, with Yugaldo, this was a regular occurrence.

“…Yorna.”

Tanzer tightened her embrace, calling out to Iris Yorna.

She hadn’t lost her composure enough to break free of this grasp and leap towards Yugaldo. Even if their relationship was incomprehensible, Tanzer must have understood that Yugaldo held no ill will towards Iris Yorna.

All that was left—

“Oi! I get it might be a bit too early to chat slowly!”

Charging toward them was Emilia, who had been fighting alongside Tanzer against the ‘Zombie Swordsman.’

With no mercy, she ruthlessly struck the Undead from behind with her ice hammer and, upon reaching the side of Yugaldo, looked at him with her violet eyes.

“Are you on our side?”

“Of course.”

“Great! You seem super strong! I’ll be relying on you!”

“Very well. Leave it to me.”

Emilia sighed in relief, her hand patting her chest, after receiving Yugaldo’s prompt response.

Iris Yorna blinked at how quickly she discerned friend from foe, but considering Emilia’s half-elf background, it would be ridiculous to discuss common sense.

In any case—

“Your Excellency, that body of yours…”

“Unfortunately, it’s nothing more than the remaining embers before it burns out.”

“——”

Even as he spoke, Yugaldo kept his eyes fixed on Iris Yorna and did not let his expression twist with sorrow or loneliness.

Iris Yorna also hoped for him to speak without a shred of softness.

Staring straight at Iris Yorna, Yugaldo continued.

“However, for the brief time before it burns out, everything of mine shall belong to you.”

“—Yes, Your Excellency.”

He would do everything in his power to avoid only bringing sadness and loneliness to Iris.

This gentle ‘Thorned King,’ feared by all, would always keep his soul tranquil to ensure he harmed no one with anything other than thorns.

“Not at all, not at all… it’s absolutely a happy thing.”

Even for a limited time, she could connect and exchange words with Yugaldo.

At the end of those days, for her— for Iris, it was something left unfulfilled. And because it had gone unfulfilled, it led to far too many sacrifices.

To atone for that regret, for that mistake, Iris intended to stand with Yorna in the empire—

“—That treasured sword in your hand, it must be the ‘Sun Blade’ Volakia.”

Suddenly, a hoarse voice came, causing Iris Yorna and the others to lift their heads.

A single Undead emerged slowly from a position slightly distanced from the four gathered. Following it came a line of other Undead, emerging from behind a large rock like bugs crawling forth, each one controlled by some horrific obsession, snarling with gleaming golden eyes.

“What a renowned legendary blade, a magical artifact forged outside world standards that matches the ‘Wicked Blade’ and the ‘Dream Sword’ held by that brat… it’s a rare sight indeed; I rarely get the chance to exchange blows with them.”

“…The blood of a warrior is stirred even at this.”

“Embarrassingly so… that much is true.”

He was speaking of embarrassment, but it was clear he felt none. It was all too apparent from his shining eyes and the cold heat emanating from his wicked grin.

Compared to the other Undead, the ‘Zombie Swordsman’s’ hostility and obsession were clearly abnormal, leaving Iris Yorna feeling overwhelmed not by their power but by everything else, clenching her hands in dismay.

Tanzer’s gentle hand wrapped around Iris Yorna’s tightly clenched one.

“Child, you are allowed to continue grasping my star’s hand, drawing close.”

“…I shall do so without seeking permission.”

Tanzer’s voice, filled with resignation, did not cause Yugaldo’s composed expression to falter. Yet, Iris Yorna understood that Yugaldo had accepted Tanzer’s answer without issue.

As Yugaldo walked step-by-step toward the horde of ‘Zombie Swordsmen’ that multiplied endlessly, Emilia mirrored his determination.

But Yugaldo stopped Emilia with a glance.

“Your intent to assist is noted. However, leave it to me.”

“But, you’re all alone…”

“—Yugaldo Volakia, that is my name.”

“Volakia? Is that—”

Shocked by the name Yugaldo mentioned, Emilia turned her gaze toward Iris Yorna. Nodding in reply, Iris Yorna watched as Yugaldo moved ahead.

Yugaldo faced the ‘Zombie Swordsman’ at a distance of about ten meters.

“Yugaldo Volakia… surely, you are the ‘Thorned Emperor’?”

“I’ve never self-identified as such, but some do call me that. It’s a fitting description of me during my imperial reign that would be easy to put into history texts in later generations.”

“Haha! To think! The strongest of the Holy Volakia Empire’s emperors throughout history! To meet someone like you… I truly have great fortune!”

The exuberance in the voice of the ‘Zombie Swordsman’ only amplified the dreadful blade energy radiating from him.

Even though he learned that Yugaldo Volakia, the ‘Thorned Emperor,’ stood before him, the ‘Zombie Swordsman’ was not filled with fear but rather invigorated by unparalleled logic.

The golden eyes of the ‘Zombie Swordsman’ gleamed in anticipation as they focused on Yugaldo and his ‘Sun Blade.’

“If I defeat His Excellency, would I earn the ‘Sun Blade’?”

“Should the sword deem you worthy, then so it shall be. However, it shall not be easily relinquished.”

“Oh?”

“To truly lay hold of this sword in my hands, many of my vassals risked their lives for it.”

Yugaldo’s mention of those vassals deeply resonated with Iris Yorna, for she alone understood the passion behind the fearsome ‘Thorned King’ who had been feared by all.

—Before the gaze of Iris Yorna, Yugaldo faced the ‘Zombie Swordsman,’ who moved all at once.

“—Ski!”

A short sharp breath, and like lightning, their distance was annihilated.

Twenty identical figures split into four and rushed toward Yugaldo, their flashing blades swirling like a tempest.

An act of barbarity aimed to wield a first-rate sword technique to attain the highest rank—an onslaught of sword strikes that surpassed even the sword winds, causing Tanzer and Emilia to gasp.

However, Iris Yorna had no doubt in her heart.

The twenty strikes were coming for him—yet this melee would be resolved in a single clash.

The storm of blades aiming to slash Yugaldo approached from every direction.

However, before those blades could reach the ‘Thorned King,’ the ‘Sun Blade’ shone brightly and unleashed a single flash—incinerating all twenty of the blades in an instant, culminating in the crimson tip striking the neck of the ‘Zombie Swordsman.’

“Is that all—?”

Though one blade had slain him, he was still not mortally wounded—it was the one standing directly in front.

No matter how the other nineteen figures surged toward him, the ‘Zombie Swordsman’ grimaced in disbelief.

Should he believe that dying meant he had a next time—

“It’s over.”

In the next instant, the wounded ‘Zombie Swordsman’ ignited, with flames spreading to engulf the other nineteen of his kind all at once.

“—N-No way!”

Within Yugaldo Volakia’s grasp, the ‘Sun Blade’ ignited with its true flames, igniting the soul that was the origin of the ‘Zombie Swordsman’ who had been slashed.

Ironically, it was the same conclusion as when Vincent Volakia’s ‘Sun Blade’ had set the soul of the ‘Witch’ Sphinx, the bearer of the ‘Great Calamity,’ ablaze.

“Guuh!”

“Ohhh!”

The ‘Zombie Swordsman’ was consumed in terrifying flames, turning to ash one after another. Each iteration of his burning form was met with the emergence of a new incarnation, but they too were swiftly devoured by the flames.

Time and again, as countless forms of his continued collapsing into charred remains, the ‘Zombie Swordsman’ gazed down at his own hands, feeling the unextinguishable flames continue to engulf him.

And then—

“Ahh, ahhh, damn it. How can I end it here…?!”

The Undead swordsman twisted his face as his throat burned amidst the flames.

In that moment, it resembled the final struggle of one unable to accept defeat, but that notion was denied by the fate of the ‘Zombie Swordsman,’ who would burn out and crumble into cinders.

With torn hands reaching toward the sky, the Undead’s figure began to fade.

Eventually—

“—Has it vanished?”

Tanzer’s voice wavered, unsure as she witnessed the same phenomenon.

Iris Yorna, holding Tanzer’s hand, returned the gesture by enclosing Tanzer’s small hand in hers, reassuring her that all was well.

“…Did that person really burn away?”

“Finding a precise expression is slightly difficult, but yes. The flames of the ‘Sun Blade’ incinerate whatever the wielder desires. Even a soul, with no exceptions.”

“Is that so… Thank you; you’ve really helped me out.”

Emilia expressed her gratitude, yet she turned her gaze with concern toward the many charred remains of the ‘Zombie Swordsman.’

Even though the opponent was an Undead— or one who had malignantly utilized the nature of the Undead— the fact that they had lost their lives stirred unease in Emilia’s violet eyes.

Iris Yorna once shared the same feeling. Throughout the cycles of life and death, she thought this was one of the things she had ultimately been forced to let go.

Still, some things could not be discarded.

“—My Star.”

Re-referring to it, Iris Yorna faced Yugaldo head-on.

Yugaldo had been freed from the cursed yoke of the Undead, though that detestable chain still clung to his soul, denying him freedom.

Yet now, that curse was not felt. Not just Iris Yorna, but Tanzer and Emilia as well.

This meant that Yugaldo had been liberated from the ‘Curse of Thorns.’

“Is the curse— lifted?”

“—Not at all. The ‘Curse of Thorns’ remains; it has merely transferred elsewhere.”

“Transferred…? Is such a thing even possible?”

“That which has made it possible. It is something I could never achieve in my former life. Time passed, and countless wisdom emerged. A splendid age.”

Yugaldo Volakia had been freed from the ‘Curse of Thorns.’

Wrapped in respect toward the one who enabled this, Yugaldo gently bowed his head. He had never refrained from praising others, but the sentiment carried beyond even that of an emperor or noble; it was the respect of one life towards another.

“Your Excellency’s curse…”

On the other hand, Iris Yorna found herself speechless at Yugaldo’s response.

She comprehended Yugaldo’s desire to be accurate that the ‘Curse of Thorns’ had not simply evaporated, but that was the fulfillment of her own fervent wish.

Even in death, if Yugaldo’s soul had been separated from the ‘Curse of Thorns’—

“Yorna, this is…”

“Tanzer, this man is His Excellency Yugaldo Volakia… he’s mine, the one I love dearly, and a troubled person.”

Tanzer gazed wide-eyed at Iris Yorna’s introduction. She then raised her head to face Yugaldo, hesitating for a moment before finally stating,

“I am Tanzer. I serve as the attendant for Lady Yorna.”

“I see, Tanzer. In my absence, my star has been under your care. I am grateful.”

Yugaldo nodded at the timidly offered words of Tanzer.

At a distance where they could see each other’s faces and hear each other’s voices, where they could reach out and touch if they wished, Yugaldo and Tanzer exchanged words.

In the past, the only person who could share such moments without flinching from the pain had been Iris.

“I’m Emilia. Just Emilia. Yugaldo, will you still help us?”

Echoing Iris Yorna’s sentiments, Emilia spoke freely to Yugaldo without hesitation.

In response, Yugaldo nodded, replying, “Of course,” while also looking toward the path ahead.

“There is a burden given to me by that which has released me from the thorns that tormented me for so long… It is something entrusted to me by Grooby Gamuret. I must fulfill what he left behind.”

“Grooby… That gentleman has alleviated your curse?”

“My star.”

“Y-Yes.”

Caught off guard by the name of her benefactor, Tanzer’s voice came out like a village girl’s.

For a moment, Yugaldo’s demeanor softened; it was likely a sign he found Iris Yorna’s reaction adorable, but she chose not to dwell on it.

Rather, Yugaldo remained fixated on those blue eyes, trapped by Iris Yorna.

“I desire to devote everything of mine to you. There is no lie in that statement. Therefore—”

“You don’t need to say it; I’ll be going with you. — I can’t bear to be apart for even a moment.”

She wanted to hold onto this miracle on her lips until that moment when he would be lost to her.

That was Iris Yorna’s unvarnished answer from the depths of her heart.

—————-

The stench of charred spirits filled the air.

She felt no pain. Her entire body was engulfed in flames, and the heat of her blistering form was like a gentle breeze.

However, this gentle breeze could not be cast off, transforming every newly formed body into ash or cinders, seeking to extinguish her existence.

It would not be quenched by water. Even attempts to set it ablaze elsewhere would fail. Each severed body part immediately ignited in the unavoidable flames of their demise—yes, the end.

Her sense remained. She understood. This fire would not die. Until the end, it could not be extinguished.

“Ah, ah, what a terrible thing…”

Having fallen to the path of the sword, seeking to master it, even as an Undead.

It was the flames of the ‘Sun Blade’ that met him on the path leading to his goal, incinerating the soul of a man long coveted, Rauan Segmunt.

Refusing to remain and facing the flames, Rauan fled the battlefield, running.

His crumbling foot would falter with the next step, and choosing not to waste time, he decapitated his own body, forcing the next step onto the following incarnation of himself.

Again and again, Rauan ran—away from the ‘Thorned Emperor’ and to the place he must reach prior to burning out.

“What a thing… I really am lucky.”

Emitting flames from his furious body, Rauan grinned with fierce joy.

Having become an Undead, he grasped the truth of his soul by instinct and began to tread the steps toward the ‘Heavenly Blade.’ This was his next trial, to ensure he could step perfectly onto that next rung.

Rauan’s soul would inevitably soon burn out. However, like a candle burning at its brightest just before it extinguishes, it would glow with unmistakable brilliance.

—For Rauan Segmunt, reaching the ‘Heavenly Blade’ was the ambition of his lifetime.

He had proven that he could cast away his life without exaggeration for this goal.

Indeed, Rauan experienced death, understanding the form of his own soul, closing the gap between himself and his wish.

And as long as he reached the ‘Heavenly Blade,’ even if it were merely for a second, it was worth it.

All he needed was—

“Well, well, well! I thought someone was racing toward me, only to arrive ablaze! What a most extravagant display!”

The voice he had longed to reach before burning out echoed in his ears.

Seeing the owner of that voice in the distance through the flames, Rauan couldn’t help but express his gratitude for the chance he had awaited.

He had arrived at the location he wished to be. All that was left was to draw near.

Before the burning Rauan, a boy cradling a brown-skinned girl laughed.

Naturally, and ironically, with a smile reminiscent of Rauan’s own, the boy spoke.

“Right now, for the first time, I thought of my father. —I don’t hate you. In fact, I like you.”

“`

 

---