―― In the Imperial Capital Rupugana, the “Witch” Sphinx was defeated, determining the failure of the “Great Calamity.”

The large-scale forbidden technique orchestrated by the “Witch” was interrupted, and the dead who had been resurrected by a twisted spell were forced to remain in the world above as beings with limited lives.

Those who were unwillingly resurrected and had been manipulated by the “Witch” rejoiced in returning to dust, allowing their souls to return, but, of course, many did not choose that path.

Even as undead beings who had lost their lives, they were all citizens of the Empire who understood the “Iron Blooded Code.”

Considered unruly for being brought back to life through unnatural means, many still chose to uphold their will, swinging swords once more, disregarding their lives as they attacked the forces surrounding the Castle City.

However, in reality, the battle encircling the Castle City of Garkra ended almost simultaneously with the decision of the “Great Calamity’s” failure, and the undead who barely survived began to scatter and flee.

Why did the undead army abandon the fight and choose to flee? — It was due to the collapse of the front lines caused by the absence of their commander, resulting in the abandonment of battle.

Even the citizens of the Empire who fear no death, even if they are an army of undead, refused to scatter their lives uselessly in a losing battle.

And as for why such an absence of the commander occurred…――

“What kind of ridiculous situation is this…!”

Pulling at his own green hair, Paradio spat as he watched his camp being destroyed.

This simply couldn’t be happening. It shouldn’t happen, but it did. All of this was due to an absurdity at work around Paradio.

Paradio, appointed as the commander of the massive undead army directed towards the Castle City, sought to fulfill his duty as a noble of the Volakia Empire.

However, every strategy Paradio devised was hindered by the commoners of the city, and compounded by the mistakes of the undead who did not faithfully obey his instructions, he found himself in dire straits.

Of course, he had no intention of giving up. But the debts piled up from the absurdities erupted like distortions, and eventually, Paradio found himself in the unfortunate position of retreating.

— No, this was not a retreat.

This was an honorable withdrawal, a strategic move for victory. Otherwise, there would be no justification for a noble from the Volakia royal family, of superior blood from the renowned magic-eyed clan, to end up like this.

“What about that ‘Witch of Greed’…! Was that the end of the road from her grand words…!”

Surfacing in Paradio’s mind was that detestable presence that crumbled first amidst the accumulated debts. The white-haired “Witch” had joined under Paradio’s command, almost overturning the battle situation, but irresponsibly abandoned her role and vanished.

She had used her magic to rain down stars and wipe out the Castle City.

But, it had been negated by an unexpected intervention from the Imperial Capital, and to make matters worse, shortly after, a fierce counterattack began from those who now burned with the flames in their eyes.

As far as Paradio could see with his magic eyes, all the living beings confined within the Castle City—including the powerless refugees—had taken up arms fueled by those flames and were pushing the undead back.

It was right after that when the “Witch of Greed” turned to dust and disappeared without attempting to resolve the situation.

“—Ah, I see. I am Sphinx.”

The parting words of the “Witch,” who cast one last glance without a care, gnawed at him. Why did she look so satisfied as she disappeared?

Nothing made sense. Adding insult to injury, it only brought misfortune to Paradio.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it…!”

While spilling forth these bloodied curses, Paradio fled from the plains and escaped into the forest.

Just before and after the “Witch of Greed” vanished, Paradio understood the anomaly among the undead—those who should have resurrected multiple times were not returning anymore, and the immortal army had ceased to function.

In battles, there is a flow.

In every battle, that is true. Especially when it becomes a major war affecting the future of the Empire.

Thus, Paradio immediately sensed the change in momentum, promptly abandoned his camp, and made the best judgment to withdraw from the battlefield with only a few remaining attendants, preparing to regroup.

Because of this, this is not a retreat but rather a preparation for victory.

“Today, feel free to think you’ve won. Vincent, Priska…!”

However, that was merely a temporary, surrendered victory.

Thus, as Paradio managed to escape, regroup, and then take absolute victory without the need for that “Witch’s” help with an undeniable move, it would mark the end of this ephemeral moment.

Next time, this time, he would certainly place the Volakia Empire back under the rightful emperor’s control.

Paradio had the magical eyes for that.

He alone, gifted with this heavenly eye, would assuredly rise to the emperor’s throne—

“――――”

With that conviction in his heart, Paradio attempted to discern the path he should take with the power of his magic eyes, only to realize—he could see none of the attendants he had brought along anywhere.

“What the…? Hey, hey!? Where did you all go!? You left me behind—”

His anger at their disappearance washed over him like cold water.

For a moment, he suspected they had been disrespectful and fled, but if that were the case, there would be no explanation for why Paradio’s magic eyes couldn’t catch their retreating figures. Thus, the simple and clear reason for their absence was—they must have died.

“――!”

Feeling a chill run down the spine of his lifeless undead body, Paradio instinctively drew his “Sun Blade,” a sword that served as proof of his status as a member of the Volakia royal family and as someone eligible to become an emperor.

“—Aah.”

That moment, the arm gripping the sword was cleaved off at the shoulder, and Paradio collapsed to the ground.

“W-What, what, what…”

He opened his three eyes wide, in disbelief, as if trying to understand what had just happened.

Right afterward, along with a shock in his remaining arm, he lost both hands capable of wielding the sword, all in an instant due to a surprise ax attack.

But he could only understand this much—nothing beyond that.

“Why…”

Why didn’t his special magical eyes—the heavenly eyes that made him extraordinary—capture that surprise attack?

He didn’t know, didn’t know, didn’t know. — In that moment, a certain possibility flickered across his mind.

Once, Paradio had heard a tale.

About a foolish race marked for the emperor’s wrath—who had committed irredeemable sins, were the most able and feared in the Volakia Empire, and were inscribed as detestable beings in the “Iron Blooded Code,” effectively erased from existence.

They were considered cursed beasts, deemed worthy of death merely for living in the Empire—

“—Wait.”

“Don’t wait for me.”

That cold, merciless shock expelled Paradio Manesque from the stage forever.

―― This marked the collapse of the front lines, losing the commander of the undead army encircling the Castle City, leading to the complete defeat of the “Great Calamity,” becoming a decisive turning point in the history behind the scenes.

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As the wheels of her wheelchair creaked, Kachua felt lost in the vastness of the room assigned to her.

“My brother becoming a special ‘General’ doesn’t mean I get special treatment just because I’m family… it’s overwhelming…”

Looking around the spacious room, Kachua sighed, contemplating the future.

The Imperial Capital she had originally lived in was said to take quite a while to recover from the “Great Calamity,” so for the time being, the evacuees from the capital were to be dispersed to the Castle City and surrounding villages.

Among these circumstances, Kachua, whose brother Jamal had gained a position close to Emperor Vincent due to a variety of coincidences, was enjoying a far more favorable treatment than others.

That said, Kachua wasn’t the kind of person who desired a luxurious lifestyle. Even if luxuries were offered, she was just a girl with no charm and a bumpy disposition, lacking the confidence to fully enjoy it.

So, she ended up declining most of the privileges that came with it.

“Ugh, these annoying people who creep closer are bothersome…”

The Aurelie family was indeed a branch of the imperial nobility, and Kachua held the position of a noble lady. While she didn’t mind having servants to care for her, it was different from before, when they were just a declining noble family. Now Jamal’s status was something significant.

Perhaps that was why many sought to get close to Kachua, hoping to curry favor with Jamal.

Having completely overlooked such boring premises and external factors, the distance she felt with Rem genuinely made her comfortable.

“…Well, it’s no use talking about a child who is no longer here.”

For Kachua, who recognized her own difficult and troublesome personality, Rem was surprisingly blunt and said things she didn’t want to hear. To put it simply, she was Kachua’s first friend.

But now Rem had left with a man and her sister to return to the Lugnica Kingdom.

With the deadline for their parting approaching, Kachua, unable to bear seeing her face filled with sadness, promised they would exchange letters, but she had no idea what she should even write in a letter.

“Every day is already dull and monotonous…”

Though things had been tumultuous lately, Kachua’s daily life was basically flat and boring, with nothing special happening, just a slow march toward death.

Even when writing to Rem, she felt she couldn’t write anything worthwhile. And as she struggled to write anything decent, she feared she would lose her patience and, gradually, the frequency of her letters would decrease until they eventually stopped.

That bleak future floated vividly in Kachua’s mind.

“I’m so done… Really, I just want to die…”

The moment she found herself alone, a wave of loneliness surged over her, and Kachua’s spirits sank further.

Originally, Kachua tended to be pessimistic and harbored a strong self-punishing mindset. Someone simply preventing that perspective from surfacing was all that was required.

Yesterday it was Rem who kept those thoughts at bay, and before that—

“…Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot, really an idiot.”

Clutching the wheels of her wheelchair tightly, Kachua muttered weakly with a hint of malice.

That fool invaded her world uninvited, despite her rejection, pulled her close, whispered all kinds of unwelcome sweet nothings, then disappeared on his own.

Remembering that big idiot brought her immense pain.

“Ugh, no, no, I don’t want to cry…”

Slowly, a warm sensation rose in her eyes, and Kachua suffered in silence.

If only she had sacrificed herself during the chaos of the “Great Calamity” to protect Rem, she would have surely been scolded and called an idiot, yet that wound would remain embedded in Rem’s heart—she’d continue to remember her.

By writing some pathetic letter, she could avoid further disdain.

Those who died are lucky. Once you die, there are no more bad things to say about you.

Therefore, to prevent that cheating, Kachua vowed to hurl insults at the deceased.

“Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot…!”

That attempt to vent her frustrations ended up backfiring.

Continuing to hurl insults at the dead was, by its very nature, a way to keep thinking about them as long as she kept talking.

Because of that, not only did tears well up, but her nose grew painful, too.

If she were to look in the mirror, she’d see an unbelievably ugly girl sitting in a wheelchair with a horrible attitude.

“I’m so over this… I don’t want to see anyone…”

Complaining this way, Kachua turned her wheelchair toward the bed.

It was bad manners, but she was considering collapsing onto the bed without undoing her braids or changing her clothes, and just lying there until starvation killed her. Of course, she couldn’t starve to death. Surely she’d end up getting hungry, cutting her dramatic demise short and sniffling while grabbing something to eat.

Even so, she didn’t want to weep for anyone in this mood—

“——? Who?”

Just as she was about to roll her wheelchair toward the bed, a knock came from outside the room.

Though it felt like bad timing, she hesitated to ignore it and head toward the bed. Everyone was facing significant challenges with communication issues and problems arising everywhere. If Kachua threw a fit now, someone might miss something important.

Showing her serious side, Kachua approached the door.

For a moment, she hesitated, thinking about the horrible expression she must be wearing, but it was really just a moment. She didn’t care what anyone thought—Kachua reached for the door.

And then—

“Yes, who is it…?”

She said this while slowly opening the door—

“——Aah.”

A raspy exhale slipped weakly from her narrow throat.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　△▼△▼△▼△

“—Thank you for your hard work, General Jamal.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Returning the salute from the imperial soldier who snapped to attention and stepped aside, Jamal replied with a smile.

The title “General,” which had been addressed to him, was a special position designated for Jamal—recognized for his valor in the war under Emperor Vincent.

As for his role, it was an honorable place alongside Vincent as his guard. —For someone like Jamal, who originally sought advancement for the Aurelie family and aimed to become a general, this was a coveted position.

Now, he could show up everyone who had previously made fun of him for being overambitious, and above all, he could provide Kachua, who couldn’t live without external support, with a good life.

Kachua, often passive and lacking self-esteem, was known to loathe the idea of such things, but in the end, she was still his important family member.

Even if she complained with a mouthful, Jamal understood Kachua couldn’t outright refuse.

“Damn, I didn’t really need to meddle like this, but still…”

Venturing forth with a surge of irritation, Jamal headed toward Kachua.

With his newfound status as a General, Kachua’s treatment had changed significantly compared to ordinary imperial citizens.

For now, it was just a temporary residence until the reconstruction of the capital progressed, but after all the ordeals they had gone through, Jamal wanted to provide Kachua with a comfortable lifestyle.

His friend’s daughter, who had been keeping Kachua company for a while, had also already returned to the kingdom.

It was about time for Kachua to start feeling a little better.

“After that, let’s feast on some special meat and wine.”

As he said this, Jamal thought of the wine bottles and bags filled with high-quality meat he had obtained from the stores, imagining ways to comfort Kachua.

Roasting thick cuts of meat luxuriously and digging in while downing fine wine.

That was Jamal’s way of coping with sadness.

“Kachua, are you in there? It’s me.”

Knocking on the door, Jamal called out to Kachua, who should have been in her room.

Typically, Kachua had difficulty going anywhere alone and spent most of her time holed up in her room. So, she should be doing that now too.

However, no response came from inside, making Jamal furrow his brows in worry.

“Is she asleep? Hey, I’m coming in.”

He thought it was a common occurrence for her to sulk and sleep like the dead, so without a second thought, he opened the door and stepped into Kachua’s room.

As this was a room she had just moved into, it lacked any personal touch, and after glancing around, Jamal began to feel something was off upon finding no sign of Kachua in her bedroom.

“Kachua?”

Naturally, peering into her bedroom yielded no sign of her.

In fact, Kachua was nowhere to be found in the room. It was unusual, but perhaps she had gone out coincidentally; that was the thought that crossed Jamal’s mind.

That was when he noticed a letter lying on the desk in the bedroom.

“———”

Initially, his awareness hadn’t been drawn to the letter, but it now captivated Jamal’s attention forcefully. The letter appeared ordinary enough. What stood out was what was placed alongside it.

What lay there was a bandana, vividly familiar in Jamal’s memory, once worn by a certain man—

“——!”

Reaching out eagerly, he hastily tore open the letter and read its contents.

What lay within was Kachua’s thin handwriting, seemingly devoid of life, accompanied by another strong script—a marriage registration form.

“—That damn bastard.”

The moment he grasped the intent behind the marriage registration, an expletive slipped from Jamal’s lips.

Contrary to the content of the words, his heart was filled with relief and joy, a mixture fueled by the complex feelings of an older brother whose treasured sister had been whisked away by that irksome friend.

“Ha, ha, ha, ha—hahaha!!”

Ultimately, Jamal pressed his palm to his face, bursting into an uncontrollable laugh in front of the letter. Laughing and laughing, until tears began to flow from the eye covered by his eyepatch.

This tear, shed in the midst of a multitude during partings in the Empire, was one of the few tears shed for joy.

Only on this day was it a fact noted in history that a missing noble lady and her abducting troublemaker had wedded, while a single “General” offered his blessings.

――After this, Kachua Aurelie’s whereabouts would become quite unclear.

However, it could not be considered a tragedy since consistent letters continued to arrive at the home of her only friend, and none of the letters bore signs of despair or unhappiness.