The last thing Konrad remembered was him fighting a desperate battle.
He kept increasing the size of his Isekai Microwave until the air trembled from the heat. But not even that could make Maou Midori budge. His strange spell kept growing, too, until—
Maple flew right into it.
Whether she knew what it was or she made a mistake, he had no idea.
He tried to stop her, but his legs refused to move.
They rooted in place as he watched the disaster unfold.
The enormous dragon and that purple bolt connected, and all hell broke loose.
It turned into a swirling whirlpool of magic essence, and as soon as it formed, it disappeared.
In one moment, Maple was there, and he could hear her roar, then she was gone. He got no response to his telepathic probing, only Stella's gasp, and the Demon Lord's cackle.
"Not the one I was going for, but this works, too, I guess," he said with a laugh.
Was that the banishment spell the others warned Konrad about?
But the magic circles reminded him of a clockwork. It had to be something related to time. Besides, Maple was from this world, and banishment only worked on otherworlders.
Not like Konrad had the time to think about it, nor was he in the mood.
Seeing his haremette disappear in a purple-black hole, he charged in.
Maple asked him to cast lightning. Too late it might have been, but he gave it to her.
The thunder shook the mountains, the clap deafening, but the Demon Lord was still standing.
Even when he had all the mana, or with his hidden ace scorching him for so long—
No spell seemed to defeat him.
But magic wasn't the only thing Konrad was good at. He had a sword, and he'd been swinging it for twelve years. He defeated champions—although that involved some trickery, too.
Still, against a mage? One that was already weakened and sweating, and holding only a staff?
Konrad ran, putting all his rage into a cry and a wide swing, and then—
The world disappeared around him.
Whether the strike reached the sorcerer or not, he had no idea.
He became weightless, floating in an endless dark space, still clutching his sword.
Why was this so familiar? Hadn't this kept happening to him these days?
Being trapped in the void, ripped out of time by both allies and his enemies. And now, he was all alone with his rage and failure. Even the fact that he had lost Maple only started to sink in.
The same Maple who'd end up becoming his Lily in thousands of years.
Not that he could puzzle it together how that might happen. He lived less than a hundred years across his two lives; a lifespan like that was incomprehensible to him.
But finally, he had seen the signs. He picked up the similarities, the same, unbridled chaos.
And, well, his first wife pointed it out loud and clear, too.
His first wife. Yes, they have actually married, mere days ago.
The only love he had in his past life—and the one who ruined that life for good—was his actual, legal wife now. Not even the only one, but he couldn't think of Gabrielle right now.
The past self of that girl—demoness or dragoness, or whatever she called herself, was gone.
And now he floated in this nothing without her.
Nothing made sense. He couldn't think. He didn't want to.
Should he break out of here? Could he?
He still had his sword at least. In fact, he had everything he had worn earlier.
Last time in that grey void, he was more like his stylized, simplified self.
Now, the space itself was empty, while he carried everything with him. There was no light, no gravity, nothing to orient by. If he swung his sword, he'd spin the other way and never stop.
"There has to be something," he gritted out, moments, or was it hours later?
It might have been a long time, because he calmed down enough to think.
Last time from that grey void, he could break out through the cracks in time and space.
There was nothing of the sort here, but his mana was still with him. Almost full, no fatigue.
"A portal," he muttered, because if he said it out loud, it helped ground himself. Not that actual sound would come out. It felt like there was no air, either, even if he didn't suffocate.
He began casting a spell, reorganising runes in his head—
Only to realise, there was no target he could have set for it.
It was only for short-term travel anyway, and he was in—nothing.
"Damn it, take me home somehow," he argued with his own doubts.
He tried to concentrate on a place he knew well. His mind was a mess, remembering his past life, thinking about the Green Mage, and how he took out Maple with ease.
The more he struggled to narrow it down, to rein in his fickle thoughts, the worse it got.
This chaotic dragon was the same free-spirited girl he fell in love with?
The one he watched anime with, the one who made him drop out of school?
And she was an actual, mythical creature from another world. Thousands of years old.
Absolute madness. She ruined his life on purpose—her words, it wasn't even Konrad's doubts kicking in. Yet he wanted nothing more than to reunite with her. Anywhere. Any time.
And then—still holding that spell he had prepared but couldn't cast—the portal triggered.
From the darkness, a light so bright appeared that he had to squeeze his eyes shut. Even then, his eyelids couldn't protect him from seeing pink and orange through them.
He tried to cover his face, but both his blade and his limbs felt heavy.
Finally, he had weight again. And air was rushing against his face, giving him goosebumps.
It was cold. It was noisy. Foreign.
But he was somewhere now, not in the darkness of space.
And when he opened his eyes, the night sky was above him.
Stars he was familiar with but hadn't seen in eighteen years. Was he dreaming? He couldn't make out the constellations from all the artificial lights around him, but—
Hold on. Those weren't torches.
These lights were neon, LED, and cold, buzzing light bulbs. And the noises he heard were people talking; lots of them. And cars drove by in the distance. Sirens wailed.
He wasn't in Kasserlane, that much was sure.
It looked like Earth, but not a place he was familiar with.
No, scratch that, it did seem familiar, but not because he'd ever been there.
The colors, the faces, the clothing—
As if he found himself in a movie. A live-action adaptation of an old anime he watched.
He was in a narrow alley, but even there the lights were dazzling. Once he took a few steps, he found himself on a bustling street with hundreds, if not thousands, walking by.
Modern clothes, phones in their hands.
Most had dark hair, but some dyed theirs into all kinds of impossible colors.
It was overwhelming and nonsensical, but also easy to guess where he ended up.
From the people's facial features, all the flashing ads, the building style—
It could only be in one place on Earth. Tokyo, Japan.