Though it was terribly out of place, the joy in Virt's voice was undeniable as it poured out through his words.
It should have been a moment worthy of celebration, yet in the present atmosphere it felt profoundly eerie.
Dark's expression darkened almost at once.
He snapped his head up to look at Ophelia Brad, an inexplicable sense of absurdity rising within him.
He suddenly realized that all the conjectures he had held until now had been utterly overturned by that single sentence.
Or rather, with that one sentence, the entire situation had slipped completely beyond his control!
So then—where exactly had the error in this whole sequence occurred?
...
The resolute spirit that had been cultivated through his lifelong self-discipline meant that Dark did not grow flustered over a loss of footing of this degree.
Even as he accelerated his thoughts, trying to regain a grip on the situation, he said to Virt: "This 'mother' you speak of—do you mean this Ophelia Brad standing before us?"
Virt immediately said in excitement: "You already know? You won't believe it, but Robert and I had already looked into things concerning my mother before this. Perhaps this is what they call fate! It was the bond of blood that drew us together."
As he spoke, he unconsciously gripped the pendant at his neck, his excitement impossible to quell.
The photograph within the pendant had been taken from a diagonal angle behind her—a profile view of his mother.
The impression the "Blood Princess" gave him was slightly different from the image of his mother that he had always conjured up from the photo in the pendant—especially where part of the hair color was concerned.
But "when a member of the Blood Clan uses Blood Magic, their hair turns red," and so, upon discovering that the mother he had longed for day and night was in fact a hero of the Golden Generation—the "Blood Princess"—he completely dismissed that discrepancy.
What was more, his mother was actually still alive, and one of the fabled heroes at that!
Either one of these two points alone was enough to excite him into overlooking those differences.
Yet his excitement did not seem to have infected Robert at his side.
Dark even caught a trace of awkwardness on Robert's face?
Dark's gaze flickered, and he said in a low voice: "What led you to believe that this Ophelia Brad is your mother?"
"Believe? No!" Virt immediately raised his hand, gesturing over and over as he said, "It's not that I believe it—it's that I'm certain. Let me tell you, I can feel the surging of that bloodline; it's so overwhelming.
So much so that the very first moment I saw her, I knew she was an indispensable part of my life! And that upperclassman…"
At this point, Virt abruptly pointed at the already unconscious Tom Nixon and rebuked furiously: "He actually deceived me!"
Dark glanced at Tom Nixon, and his line of sight happened to cross Ryan Hacks's for an instant. "How did he deceive you?"
Virt said angrily: "He actually claimed that my mother was a Vampire who had infiltrated the academy to resurrect the Demon King! The Demon King is clearly still sealed away—it isn't dead at all!
How could I possibly believe such a stupid lie? And how could my mother possibly be a Vampire? She's a member of the Blood Clan, a pure-blooded human!"
Even as Virt shouted in agitation, he spread his arms and stared into Dark's eyes, his own eyes straining wide open. And within them… there flickered an emotion difficult to put into words.
...
In an instant, Dark understood.
Judging by the present situation, Tom Nixon had likely failed to properly win Virt's trust.
This could be seen from the very beginning of the ritual.
When Tom, Virt, and Robert had appeared before him at the time, it had been in the form of a "chase."
In all likelihood, in order to lure Virt and Robert into the secret passage, Tom had resorted to some less-than-honorable means.
So much so that even after entering the secret passage, the relations between them had not eased.
Professor Medea could only observe their positions through the Star Eyes combined with the barrier, analyzing their movements based on the fluctuations of the ritual—and the judgments made from this inevitably contained errors.
On top of that, there was Professor Ryan Hacks, who had entered the secret passage in pursuit of Ophelia Brad.
Although the four had indeed arrived at the site of the final battle in accordance with the flow of the ritual, the process leading up to it had not unfolded entirely according to the ritual.
By the time they reached the final battle:
The moment Virt laid eyes on Ophelia Brad, relying on his innate keen perception, he had sensed the blood-kinship between Ophelia Brad and himself.
Perhaps the Blood Clan blood flowing within him had also spurred this circumstance into being.
Dark could entirely imagine that, given Virt's temperament, it was quite likely he had blurted out "Mother" the very moment he first encountered Ophelia Brad.
Then, Tom Nixon, sensing that the ritual might go awry because of this, had perhaps done something.
For instance, loudly denouncing Ophelia Brad's "crimes," so as to guide the "Hero" into launching an attack on the "Demon King."
But Tom Nixon, immersed in his "script," could never have imagined even if he'd racked his brain—that he himself was nothing but the lowest pawn in a "scheme within a scheme."
Ophelia Brad had never had any intention of playing along with him; with a single move she had struck him unconscious.
Nevertheless, Tom Nixon's words had, in the end, still left their mark on Virt.
He had likely already sensed the abnormality in Ophelia Brad, but was unwilling to face it.
And so, upon seeing Dark appear, he had been so eager to share his joy with Dark, and to obtain "validation" from him.
He wanted Dark to tell him that Ophelia Brad was not a Vampire, but merely his mother.
That was why he behaved so hysterically.
...
But Dark Demon was not gentle enough for that.
Having perceived Virt's state of mind at this moment, Dark merely said in a low voice: "Virt Gold, do you still remember Professor Medea's prophecy? History always repeats itself; the cycle never ceases. You will ultimately become the Hero—draw your sword, and use your own heart to feel what is real!"
Virt Gold froze for an instant.
He stared fixedly into Dark's eyes for a long while, yet from that pair of jade-green eyes he saw only a calm like that of a lake.
Within Virt's heart, a surge of powerlessness abruptly welled up.
He suddenly turned his head, once again facing Ophelia Brad.
Though he sometimes let a snide remark or two slip from his lips, this past year of countless experiences at the academy had, just as it had for Robert, made him trust from the bottom of his heart in the ability and character of this man, Dark Demon.
It was an influence that had seeped in imperceptibly.
The same words, spoken from Dark's mouth and spoken from Tom's mouth, were destined to have two entirely different effects.
...
And watching as Dark Demon so easily reversed Virt's inner inclinations, Ophelia Brad could not help but reveal a faint smile.
The instant that trace of a smile surfaced, it was as if bright crimson flowers bloomed one after another behind her, enough to leave one intoxicated.
This naturally radiating allure was like the colorful scales upon a venomous serpent—beauty that harbored deadly poison within.
For a moment Virt was bewitched by that smile, but Dark's words still lingered in his ears. He gritted his teeth hard and drew from his card pack that card, the "Holy Sword Spell," tremblingly performing a Normal Summoning.
The first casting failed, but the second succeeded.
An intense golden light burst forth from the face of the "Holy Sword Spell" card, coalescing in his hand into a sword of light—a Holy Sword.
The outline of that Holy Sword was still blurred, but the aura befitting a Holy Sword was already unmistakable enough.
To Ophelia Brad, the dazzling sacred light was like acrid, choking smoke, forcing her eyes to narrow.
She quietly watched Virt's actions, offering not the slightest interference.
And in Virt, who had successfully summoned the "Holy Sword," the "Hero" bloodline within his body gradually began to boil, resonating with the "Holy Sword."
Then his eyes went wide, and when he looked at Ophelia Brad once more, he directly "saw" the layer of demonic shadow, like a mist of blood, that shrouded her.
Virt's familiar—the "Minotaur"—was a small Demon Species.
So he was, in fact, no stranger to the aura of the Demon race.
What was more, he had also had intimate contact with the Vampire, Brad.
And so, at this single glance, his lips began to tremble uncontrollably.
"So it's… true after all!"
...
Dark cast a questioning look toward Gatomon, and Gatomon nodded.
Dark could not help but sigh.
As the ritual drew to its close, Ophelia Brad had exposed her aura as a member of the Demon race without any concealment whatsoever.
That had already gone beyond the scope of "acting."
This proved that her "Embrace" had been completed—she had thoroughly become the Demon King's "blood slave."
But the bloodline of the Blood Clan had kept her from losing her reason—or perhaps she had directly transcended the "blood slave" stage and become a "Blood Demon," or a "Vampire."
With Dark's own breadth of knowledge, he could not yet clearly distinguish the differences between a blood slave, a Blood Demon, and a Vampire.
He could only make a rough judgment.
"Fortunately, it seems there is still room to salvage this."
Dark carefully observed Ophelia's reactions, his thoughts spinning rapidly.
The overall course of the ritual had not been altered.
If Ophelia Brad had been "Corrupted" during the course of the ritual, then so long as it continued to be pushed forward, there was still a chance to turn her back into a human.
This was a property of the "ritual" itself.
Before the "ritual" concluded, nothing was yet set in stone.
If Ophelia Brad had already been "Corrupted" before the ritual, then all he had to do was strike her down here.
Two possibilities.
Yet the thing that needed to be done was no different.
Simply draw the sword.
...
But before Dark could "draw his sword," Ophelia Brad suddenly spoke: "Are you wondering when it was that I 'awakened'?"
Dark could not help but narrow his eyes.
But Ophelia Brad did not continue. Instead, she turned her head to look at Virt again, her expression tender as she said: "Virt, my dear child. To see you grown so splendid, I am truly gratified."
Virt's fingers trembled, and his expression suddenly stiffened.
He very much wanted to say that he was not really splendid at all, but at this moment he could not bring himself to utter it.
Ophelia Brad then turned toward Ryan Hacks and said slowly: "Professor Hacks, I advise you not to act rashly. I have no wish to raise my hand against a crippled old man."
Ryan Hacks gripped the cane in his hand with force, his face taut.
Ophelia Brad gave a light laugh and continued: "The course of worldly affairs is always so wondrous. Looking back, one always feels that everything was predestined. Though fate is merely one expression of the future, it can always clutch a person's throat until they cannot breathe. Back in Bastia, I would often wonder—why is the world so harsh toward me?"
Her smile remained soft and beautiful, but the atmosphere gradually shifted.
As the last surviving member of the Blood Clan, Ophelia Brad had endured sorrows beyond counting.
The annihilation of the Blood Clan, the deaths of her entire family, being Embraced by the Demon King, the Hero she fell in love with also perishing in the final war, and being unable even to witness her child's growth.
Just as she said, the world had been so unrelenting toward her that she no longer had even the strength to complain.
...
Among those present, the one who understood the Blood Princess's deeds most deeply was, without a doubt, Dark.
But at first, Dark too had only regarded the Blood Princess's affairs from the perspective of a "spectator," without much empathy.
It was only now, within this peculiar atmosphere, that he seemed suddenly to realize, and gained some visceral feeling for the Blood Princess's plight.
Because of this, he fell slightly silent, a faint blockage forming in his throat.
...
On the other side, Virt wore a look of utter bewilderment. He did not understand what Ophelia Brad was talking about, and only instinctively wanted to clutch at his chest.
He too found it somewhat hard to breathe.
For him, tonight's ordeal was steeped in Beckettian absurdity.
He had set out on a "Hero's journey" for the very purpose of vanquishing evil—the road had been arduous, yet relying on his own effort and the help of others, he had cleared it smoothly. And yet, upon reaching the final Castle, the final BOSS he encountered turned out to be his own mother.
He tried to immerse himself in the ecstasy of having found his mother, forgetting absolutely everything else.
Only for someone to jab a finger through the bubble and burst it.
His mother's praise of him also left him at a loss for how to respond.
He was utterly bewildered.
...
Ophelia Brad straightened herself upon the throne.
She turned her head to look at everyone within the hall, but this time she lowered her voice greatly as she spoke.
"'Hero' Bright Gold, 'War God' Alvit Holy One Demon, 'Sun Warrior' Suna Montielfali…"
As she murmured, at one side of the throne, the blood flowing atop the magic array suddenly began to boil, and the infant within the vial split its mouth open, letting out the first wail since its rebirth.
"Let the world feel pain!"
Ophelia Brad stamped down with one foot and rose from the throne, her bearing and gaze changing utterly in an instant.
Her waterfall-like crimson tresses cascaded down accordingly, flowing like quicksilver.
The atmosphere transformed in a flash!
...
"[Paradise]!"
In that instant, Dark cast aside all sympathy and misgiving, violently pouring the magical power he had long stored up into "[Paradise]."
The "[Paradise]" pinched between his index and middle fingers streaked across his vision like lightning.
A brilliant light erupted instantly from the card's face.
Berserk magical power surged wildly in every direction, its veins spreading dense as a lattice.
Structures that seemed lifted straight out of a fairy-tale world rose up from the ground one after another.
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