"Dare a mere demon lay hands on Lucy! Die!"
Though the dueling arena where Luciana and Jaihin clashed was already filled with students recklessly hurling their magic—
If one were to pick out the most fervent of them all,
It was without a doubt Elizabeta, her pink hair fluttering as she poured out her mana.
'Her idol is in danger, so of course she's lost her mind.'
One only had to look at her unceasing bombardment of ever more ferocious flame magic, honed under Bathory's teaching.
—"…You don't mean that at me, right?"
"Why, did it prick your conscience? Because you're a demon too?"
Elizabeta gave a small laugh at my whispered thought, replying in a low voice before turning her gaze back to the arena.
"Forget it. I'm not stupid enough to pick a fight with an ally I need right now."
In her voice was trust.
The certainty that I, at least, would never do anything to harm Luciana.
"…And thank you."
"All of a sudden?"
"Yes. Honestly… I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared. I never would have even thought to step forward."
Her voice trembled slightly.
Who could fail to notice the shame and embarrassment within it?
A high-ranking demon.
Considering what that meant here in the North, it was hardly strange that her first thought was survival.
"If you hadn't created this atmosphere, I never would have thought to help Lucy. …I owe you."
Head bowed, biting her lip, Elizabeta reached one hand toward the arena while the other rose toward her mouth.
"I told you before, it's not a good habit."
"Ah…"
Her pupils shook when she found her wrist caught in my grasp.
"Don't blame yourself. Just having the courage to stand against a high-ranking demon is impressive enough."
In truth, most of the others only fired spells because of the persuasion—no, pressure—I had forced upon them, along with their lust for honor.
"Are you crazy? Why provoke a high-ranking demon?"
"I don't know! Let's just escape while we can! That maid seems to be leading an evacuation anyway!"
And of course, many others simply fled in fear despite the mood.
Elizabeta's courage was born not only of her own will, but of a near-fanatical devotion to Luciana.
She and I were no different.
At our core, the same.
Each doing our utmost for Luciana, from our own position.
"Keep casting magic. It will certainly help Lady Luciana greatly."
"…Fine. But don't act so smug. I've known Luciana longer than you have, you know?"
Her head no longer hung low.
Nor did her hand linger at her mouth.
She clenched her fist tightly, abandoning the thought of biting her nails.
"…You pitiful gnats! Do you really think you can wound me, at my peak, with such resistance?!"
But despite Elizabeta and the magicians' efforts,
Jaihin seemed completely unscathed.
The reason was the translucent membranous wings spread behind his back.
Cleverly, he twisted the trajectory of spells with his wings.
"…Tch. How like a muscle-brained brute to brute-force a solution."
At this rate, the magicians' mana would only be wasted,
And Luciana would gain little aid.
"Keep up the pressure!"
"…And you?!"
"I'll make sure your efforts are not in vain!"
If the wings were the problem, then removing them was the solution.
With Luciana to his front, and the magicians at his back,
Now was the perfect opportunity to strike from behind and cut those wings.
"Your Highness! Now is the time! With the magicians keeping him occupied, this is your chance to save your fiancée."
At my words, the prince's face twisted sourly.
"No… ahem. I am the Empire's first heir. I would rather not risk myself."
"..."
Gods above, this man is supposed to be the crown prince?!
How can a future emperor, one meant to lead all people, shrink back like this?
And if he lacks even the courage to save his own fiancée—!
Fortunately, even without him, there were willing volunteers.
"Then let me go in his stead."
"The third prince?"
"The demons are a clear threat to the Empire. How can we call ourselves rulers if we do not step forward for our people?"
Despite having already suffered severe injuries at Jaihin's hand and only just recovered from unconsciousness,
He showed no fear, unlike the crown prince.
'…As expected of Rene. His eye for people is sharp.'
Wisdom in politics, and the courage to act when needed.
Though not one of the original male lead candidates,
Right now he was more than worthy to stand at the saintess's side.
"…Brother, I will join you."
The gargoyle prince, entwined in fate with Revine,
Oparn's crimson eyes blazed with the blue flames of vengeance.
"With you here, it's as though we command an army."
Against Jaihin, I myself would be swatted aside by a single blow,
But as a gargoyle born with formidable durability, Oparn could surely endure a few exchanges.
"Good. Three is plenty for this suicide squad."
It was time for the Wing-Cutting Squad to sortie.
The woman was a nuisance.
That was the feeling he had toward the warrior wielding the Sword of the Great Warrior who blocked his path.
"Grgh!"
"Pathetic! Do you truly deserve to wield that sword?!"
She fought only defensively, hardly befitting the title of great warrior.
"…Of course I do. Who else but me could wield my ancestor's blade?"
And yet, with a grin, she still had the breath to mock him.
"Unlike you, chained to the past, I walk forward to explore the future. Don't you agree?"
"Insolent wretch. I'll rip that mouth first!"
And yet…
Though destined to lose, her eyes never shed their look of pity.
That was when it happened.
"As expected. Your arrogance has blinded you."
The moment she finished speaking, a sharp pain lanced through his back.
"More gnats…!"
Magic?
No. If it were, his wings would have absorbed it.
"Haha, long time no see."
"You…!"
"How was my stealth? You didn't notice me until I was right at your back. With dull senses like that, how will you survive the battlefield?"
That puny human whelp, good for nothing but dodging,
Had slipped in while his guard wavered and pierced his wing joint.
"Fine. Better this way! I'll crush you all at once!"
As he swung his fist at the brat he had once missed—
"Not so fast."
A silver-haired youth blocked his path.
The weight behind his strike was too great to be human.
"No… This strength! You're…."
He couldn't mistake it.
He had felt it countless times in the civil war.
This sensation—like colliding with a mountain—belonged to that subterranean race.
"To avenge the Matriarch! Revine!"
"…Hah. So, one of the survivors who guarded the Diamond."
A mudskipper flopping, now joined by a cuttlefish and a shrimp.
Jaihin felt his temper flare.
"All this fuss just to protect one succubus."
Not that it mattered.
This young body was an indestructible fortress.
Gargoyles were not famed for offense,
And that puny human's aura was feeble.
He only needed to watch out for that sword, the only thing that could truly wound him.
"Third Prince, now! While Oparn holds him!"
"Tch, mimicking my brother's voice isn't easy…."
And then Jaihin saw it for the first time.
A dazzling rainbow radiance.
How could aura shine so? The question came too late.
—Slash.
With eyes of burning blue, a man's aura slid into the wound at his wing joint.
"Graaagh! My wing…!"
"You relied only on your body's strength. But that was not your true power."
Enduring the agony, he raised his eyes.
There she stood, legs trembling, yet her will unbroken.
"Look around you, demon."
Was this what it felt like to fall for a succubus's charm?
Overwhelmed by her commanding presence, he did as she said.
Three youths had already severed one of his wings.
Magicians now surrounded him with no gap left.
The golems that had hindered him before, and even the damned mosquito woman, had returned.
"So you finally realize."
"…Tch. I just need to crush them all."
"Do you really believe you can? Simply because you're young?"
The silver-haired woman shook her head.
"You're wrong. It's that very youth that led you into this trap."
"What?"
"You lack the insight to read the battlefield, the experience to keep us at bay while checking the vampire. You relied only on your strength, and so here you are."
That my youth, my greatest weapon, had betrayed me?
"Hah! Amusing. We'll see soon enough. I'll break them all, and offer your head to the True Dragon!"
"…Arrogant. Still trapped in your youth."
At that, rage flared in his chest.
What did she know of his youth?
He was still in his prime, with potential to soar higher.
What did this fading woman know of him?
What could she understand of the despair of decline?
"…Brother! He's going for Lady Speda…!"
"Stop him! He's lost his head—!"
"Cut the other wing at least…!"
The mission… it was doomed.
In truth, infiltrating the Imperial Capital to seize the Queen had always been a long shot.
So his goal shifted.
From abducting the Queen,
To cutting down this sapling before it grew into a mighty tree.
"You judged my power? Then let's see if you can run your mouth after death!"
Jealousy turned into raw fuel.
Even if another wing was severed,
Even if he was burned and slashed by spells,
Even if his horns were shattered by golems—
He had but one target.
To strangle the slender neck of that woman.
"No, Lady Luciana! Don't face him head-on! Dodge—!"
"Die!"
An unstoppable strike, one only the True Dragon had ever withstood.
He stepped in, pouring every ounce of red aura into his fist.
"…What is this aura?!"
But his full-force punch was swallowed whole by overflowing white aura that even devoured his sword.
"The moment you mistook brute strength for true power, your defeat was sealed."
In an instant, aura flooded the entire arena.
Then it reshaped itself into countless swords.
"This is…."
"Your gift is regression into the past? How unfortunate. Mine is the opposite."
"…Nonsense."
It had to be her unique ability.
He spun his eyes quickly, analyzing.
Greatswords, rapiers, spears, and unfamiliar weapons he had never seen.
If they were merely floating swords, they'd be no threat.
But his spine froze for another reason.
"These… You're controlling them? No—wielding them?"
Each blade moved with the mastery of a veteran swordsman.
Each skill targeting him in unison.
"So you noticed. As expected of a high-rank from Revine."
"You've mastered all these?"
Even a lifetime was barely enough to master one sword.
"Yes. The world is full of swords, each with its own art. How could I waste time chained to the past?"
True strength came only from relentless devotion.
Revine-born, a warrior by nature, Jaihin could see it.
Her agony was embedded in the very techniques she now unleashed.
"I meant to unveil this against my servant… but better this way. You are strong. A worthy stage for this technique."
The Sword of the Great Warrior in her hand had shifted into a dagger,
And in her other hand, a blade of aura.
"Time to end this."
The moment her words ended—
"Ghhk!"
—Her greatsword struck the wounded joint of his severed wing.
A flash-fast strike sliced his cracked horn.
A long-bladed weapon tore through his arm.
…
"Grghhh."
Countless aura-forged swords pierced through him.
And in the end, two daggers plunged into his left chest.
"Even your bloated muscles have burst. Had you fought me in your true form, it might have been a better battle."
"…I admit it. Hah… Foolish."
To say he couldn't respond would be a lie.
Each sword had flaws, lacking polish.
Perhaps her focus had been spread too thin.
But failing to overcome it—that was his fault.
The cost of youth-drunk arrogance.
And the blades that took his heart.
"…Great Warrior. As fare for the afterlife… grant me one question."
The words "brat" and "woman" had vanished from his lips, replaced with respect.
"Speak. For a worthy duel, I will listen."
"That final art… What do you call it?"
That overwhelming technique, stronger even than his youth—
Even as he spat blood, he had to know.
"Thousand Swords Bloom."
She named it calmly.
And he bowed his head in satisfaction.
A thousand blades, where ten thousand sword arts blossom.
Fitting indeed.
The perfect art to end his life.
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