No matter how many times he saw the place, Galtuile’s secret meeting room always depressed him. It was steeped in a gloomy, somber atmosphere, and the iron sculpture of the Federated Kingdom’s emblem set against the back wall cast an especially disheartening shadow over the interior.

Would it kill them to liven this place up a little? wondered Lufen Cauron.

The sculpture made the windowless room feel even more claustrophobic; it was no wonder that his goddess, Niflaine, didn’t want to accompany him here. She wouldn’t be allowed to set foot inside, of course, even if she wanted to. Goddesses were strictly prohibited. This room was for secret meetings among the Holy Knights’ captains alone, and they adhered to the strict convention of never divulging information regarding their goddesses, even to fellow captains. Nevertheless, Lufen’s goddess, Niflaine, always wanted to interact with the others of her kind, as if such rules meant nothing to her.

“It’s simply ridiculous,” she would always say. “We’re like sisters, right? So what’s wrong with having a friendly chat? It doesn’t make any sense. I don’t have many memories of my past, so I’d at least like to spend some time with my fellow goddesses!”

To tell the truth, Lufen more or less agreed with her. What was the point in concealing the goddesses’ abilities from the other captains? If anything, keeping secrets would only hinder the Holy Knights’ ability to work together as a team.

Whoever came up with that rule must’ve either really loved keeping secrets, or they were afraid that one of us would betray humanity.

Whatever the case, it was suffocating, and to make matters worse, the only man Lufen could share his honest opinions with was no longer a member of the Holy Knights. How many years had it been since Xylo Forbartz left? Lufen still wondered from time to time what could have happened to make Xylo do what he did. He had to have a reason for committing such a terrible crime. It must have—

“Lufen Cauron.”

The sudden sound of his name made Lufen snap open his eyes. Apparently, he’d unconsciously let them close. The oppressive meeting room filled his vision, with its dreary sculpture and unnecessarily large table. Three other people—all captains in the Holy Knights—were present.

“Captain Cauron of the Sixth Order, did you hear what I just said?” asked a woman who looked to be getting on in years. Wisps of winter-white could be seen peppering her hair, but she was still in tip-top shape and would tower over most men if she stood up straight. “Don’t tell me you were sleeping.”

This was Mavika Reagar, captain of the Third Order of the Holy Knights. She was a seasoned warrior who served a goddess capable of seeing the future.

“I was awake, of course.” Lufen Cauron lowered his head respectfully, though he wasn’t a fan of the woman’s strict attitude. In fact, he found pretty much all of the other captains difficult to deal with. “I was just thinking about something.”

“…Then how about you give us your opinion on the subject of today’s discussion?” suggested one of the others—a young woman with beautiful golden locks. She was younger than Lufen and the newest captain in the Holy Knights. Despite her calm, serious expression, her eyes danced with mirth. She was clearly just messing with him. “If you’ve been thinking, you must have something to contribute. That is, unless you were daydreaming about some unrelated topic.”

She was a prodigy and a former warrior priest named Savette Fisballah who was scouted by the Holy Knights and made the captain of the Fourth Order. Currently, she served a goddess who could manipulate the weather.

“I was obviously not daydreaming about something else. You want my opinion on the matter at hand, yes? Hmm…” Lufen appeared to search for the right words and scratched wildly at his head. At times like this, it was best to emphasize one’s own stupidity. “Sorry. I guess I was sleeping. Looks like deep down inside, I’m just an unmotivated bum. My lazy eyelids close all on their own.”

The first to crack was Tsav.

Dotta wasn’t with us at the temporary fortress, so there was no way to get our hands on any booze, and we weren’t receiving any luxury rations, either. To top it all off, there was almost nothing to do for fun.

And so Tsav started gambling. Such activities were illegal inside military encampments, but it was the kind of thing you just couldn’t stop people from doing. While soldiers in the Holy Knights were more inclined to follow the rules, those supplied by the local noblemen had no such reservations. In reality, underground gambling was rampant, and Tsav lost everything he had in the blink of an eye. He was really, really bad at that kind of thing.

One day, I asked him why he liked gambling so much when all he did was lose. The first thing he said was, “Well, I’m an absolute genius, right?” I immediately regretted asking. He continued, “Like, whatever I do, I’m better than most other people, and I improve insanely quickly. That means I can’t really enjoy the normal stuff people do for fun. And so a game of dice really hits the spot, because I have no idea if I’m gonna win or lose!”

“Seems like you mainly lose.”

“I know, right? It’s so weird. I mean, if you do the calculations and figure out the odds, I should be winning more often, don’t you think? And I’m a good person, so shouldn’t karma be on my side? It’s bizarre. Do you think I’m being scammed? I don’t know, though. I mean, I’ve made a show of punishing anyone that tried to cheat, so…”

I wanted to tell him that if he was really such a genius, he should put more effort into learning to cook, but I stopped myself. His taste buds were all out of whack, so I figured he’d only end up making something weird. Besides, I was already helping Patausche, our newest member, hone her skills.

Back to the point, Tsav had lost every last military note in his possession at an extraordinarily rapid pace. He was now in debt and being forced to do other people’s chores. Rhyno frequently helped him out, since setting up temporary fortresses like these required a lot of heavy labor.

Thanks to the help of such volunteers, the temporary fortress Tujin Bahark was looking quite impressive only a few days after the arrival of the Eighth Order. That said, most of the work was done by shadow servants summoned by the Eighth Order’s goddess, Kelflora. These were semitransparent humanoid beings that looked like shadows gathered up and molded into solid form. Each one was roughly the size of a child, and they could understand and follow orders. With enough of them, even heavy objects could be easily carried, and they were nimble to boot. As the shadows grew more exhausted, they became increasingly transparent, yet they never complained. They could even be used as soldiers on the battlefield.

Incidentally, Teoritta had been visiting Kelflora basically every day. The thirteenth goddess had been put under surveillance as punishment, and the Holy Knights had an unwritten rule that goddesses should avoid excessive contact with one another. Nevertheless, she and Kelflora always chatted for five or ten minutes each time they met, and Teoritta would always return with some sort of small dried confection. This usually happened a little after noon, when I was productively using my precious break time to lie around in our unit’s assigned barracks.

“Xylo! I will share this with you as a special treat,” she said with a smug smile, as she always did. “Now, be good and share with the others, okay? You must not keep them all to yourself.”

“Why would I want all this candy?” She was treating me like some unruly child who didn’t want to share with his siblings.

“However, I will allow you to pick out your favorite first. You are my knight, after all, so you deserve a little special treatment… Please do not tell the others, all right?”

Perhaps Teoritta viewed me as a troublesome underling. It wouldn’t surprise me if all goddesses saw mankind that way.

Just then, I thought of something I’d been meaning to ask.

“What do you talk to Kelflora about anyway?” I turned my thoughts to the other goddess: her silver locks and blank expression, her stiff face and curt, cold manner of speaking. I couldn’t imagine the two of them having much of a conversation. “I mean, she hardly even talks, right?”

“Yes, I am the one doing most of the talking.”

“Her expression doesn’t change much, either.”

“That is where you are wrong, Xylo. You simply lack a keen eye for detail. You should get to work on that. You have a lot to learn.”

Now that I thought about it, didn’t Senerva use to talk to Kelflora a lot as well? It may have seemed like Senerva was doing most of the talking, but maybe they were communicating in a way I couldn’t see. I remembered one conversation in particular. What were they talking about again? I couldn’t have forgotten. It was about some animal…

“Excuse me. Xylo, were you in the middle of your break?”

Shortly after Teoritta left, Venetim and Patausche walked in, cutting me off mid-thought. Something felt off. Weren’t they supposed to be in a war council with the higher-ups right about now? It was far too early for the meeting to be over. Furthermore, they both looked extremely depressed, as if spelling out the details of our next doomed mission with their expressions.

“I have some not-very-good news and some bad news. Which do you want to hear first?” began Venetim, but I didn’t have time to play his little games.

“I don’t care. Just talk.”

“All right, I’ll start with the not-very-good news… It’s about Project Saint.”

“…The Saint?”

Numerous rumors about her had been spreading through the camp lately. Apparently, she was a human weapon with a unique stigma, allowing her to harbor a goddess’s power to destroy the Demon Blight in her body. At least that was the sales pitch from the big guys at Galtuile.

It was absurd. They’d made a human into a weapon and were now using her as a symbol for the war effort. Who would come up with such a plan? There was clearly something wrong with their heads. How could they sacrifice a fellow human like that? It made me sick.

And they claimed she could harbor the power of a goddess in her body. I had an idea what that meant, and it was revolting.

“The Saint’s name is Yurisa Kidafreny,” continued Venetim matter-of-factly. “And she is officially joining our battle to reclaim the Second Capital.”

“…That’s a load of crap,” I growled. Venetim jolted and hid behind Patausche.

“Patausche! Xylo is acting exactly how I predicted! Could you please explain the rest to him yourself?!”

“Galtuile has made up its mind,” she said. “Saint Yurisa will be taking part in this mission. The military, Temple, and Allied Administration probably plan on using her as a symbol of the three groups’ united front.”

This worked out for Venetim, as I didn’t wind up yelling at him. Patausche’s tone, which was reasonable, with an undertone of suppressed disgust, eased my anger. She wasn’t someone who could feign emotions—that was how she really felt.

“The rumors were true,” she continued. “The Saint has Goddess Senerva’s eye and arm transplanted onto her body… Xylo, she… She was once your—”

“Yeah.” I nodded slightly. There was no point in trying to hide it. “And I killed her. But we don’t need to talk about that now.”

I made an effort not to think about my feelings. It was fine. This was no surprise. No one could harbor the power of a goddess without using their remains.

I forced myself to smile. It was all okay. This had nothing to do with me. I needed to be even stupider, more thickheaded, and more insensitive, or I wasn’t going to make it. If I let myself stop and consider the situation, I’d want to rush straight to Galtuile and start slamming people’s heads into walls.

“So? Tell me about this Saint,” I said, deciding to ask the stupidest question I could think of. “What does she look like? Is she more cute or more beautiful? I need to know for strategic reasons.”

“Hmph. There you go again.” Patausche grimaced. A reasonable reaction. But I could tell she wasn’t actually disgusted with me. She was simply playing along. I was grateful—the last thing I wanted right now was a serious discussion. “How is her appearance going to affect anything?”

“Appearance is important. She’s going to be the face of a battle that will decide the fate of the whole world. If she’s going to boost morale, she needs to look good. Are you familiar with the Siege of Vaidas?”

“The one where eighty percent of the castle garrison fought to the death?”

“Yep, that one. Inside one of the castle towers was an extremely beautiful princess who the soldiers devoted their lives to protect. But once the battle was over and they went to the tower to greet her, they found only a life-sized doll.”

Whether this old tale was true or not didn’t matter. It was the underlying message that was important: There were times when good looks could be used as a weapon, but it wasn’t good to make your soldiers die for such things, either.

That’s why Project Saint is a load of crap.

“…I swear, the way you talk…,” Patausche muttered, a bitter, conflicted look on her face. “It reminds me of someone I knew in the Holy Knights. Savette used to speak like that… You’re a little more difficult to deal with, though.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Don’t look so angry when you’re just joking around. You’re scaring Venetim.”

I glanced at him. He looked terribly uncomfortable, like he was trying to swallow a hunk of lead.

“Uh… Unfortunately, the Saint still hasn’t arrived,” said Venetim, dithering. “So we don’t know what she looks like quite yet. It seems she won’t show up until things settle down a bit more.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate.” Actually, I was relieved. It was for the best if I didn’t have to meet her. I might not be able to handle that.

“Y-yes… So we penal heroes…need to help pave a path for the great Saint’s arrival,” Venetim continued. This was probably the “bad news” he’d mentioned earlier. “We’ve been put in charge of destabilizing the enemy…from inside the Second Capital. You were specifically mentioned by name.”

“Yeah.” I’d been informed of this already. The captain of the Eighth Order, Adhiff Twevel, had brought the damn third prince with him and directly asked for my help. Obviously, a penal hero like me had no right to refuse. “I know. I have to work out a plan, right? Is that the bad news?”

“Th-the bad news…is that the mission was moved up somewhat.”

“…‘Somewhat’? How soon are we talking?”

“We head out tonight.”

“‘Somewhat’ my ass! Get outta here with that crap! What’s wrong with you?!” Before I even realized it, I was shouting at Venetim. He was now completely hidden behind Patausche.

She nodded, grimacing. “I have nothing to add. You reacted exactly as we predicted.”

“Well, excuse me for not surprising you! Obviously, that is not happening. The plan will depend on Dotta, and I’ve been waiting for him to get back to figure something out.”

“Y-yes, I completely understand where you’re coming from,” said Venetim, “but it was apparently decided that we would commence operations immediately.”

“Who gave the orders?! Adhiff? Hord? Are they really that stupid?”

“No, it was someone even higher up. They were put in charge just the other day… His Excellency, Supreme Commander Marcolas Esgein.”

“This is ridiculous!” I had heard that someone with the title “Supreme Commander” had arrived. And it seemed he was trying to win acclaim as fast as possible using whatever high-handed means necessary. “Why the hell did Dotta have to get sent for repairs at such a critical moment?!”

Dotta had suffered a severe injury during the last battle and needed to be fixed up. It would be several more days before he could get back to work. He’d been sent to a repair shop near Galtuile, but as usual, they were prioritizing regular soldiers. Now that we had an upcoming mission to serve as our next punishment, they might get to him a little faster, at least.

“Can you buy us some time, Venetim?” I asked.

“I can try. I have an idea, so let me see what I can do.”

“Hey! Don’t think you can lie to me! There’s absolutely no way you have an idea. I’m guessing you expect to fail.”

“…It probably isn’t possible to postpone the mission, since the date and time of the Saint’s arrival have already been decided. Therefore, I believe our best bet is to come up with a plan that doesn’t involve Dotta, since we already lack manpower and resources…”

Without Dotta, our unit was severely lacking in supplies. We needed numerous items for Norgalle to create his handy sacred seal–engraved weapons, for Rhyno to use his cannon armor effectively, and for Tsav to snipe. The only one who could function as an infantryman without any supplies was Tatsuya, and he was out for repairs as well. We were in a real pickle. Jayce…would never leave Neely’s side, and he had to save his strength for the attack on the capital, where we’d need him in the air. We couldn’t ask him to serve as a scout.

To be frank, this was the worst sort of mission, to be undertaken under the worst circumstances imaginable. Punishment was a very fitting name for it.

“We don’t have much time until the mission starts, but Xylo…” Patausche gazed outside our tent with a grave expression. “The two captains have summoned you. They want to speak with you before we head out.”

“…With me?”

“We left the war council early to come get you.” She sighed softly, turning to me with concern in her eyes. “I have a bad feeling about it, but there’s nothing we can do.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“Listen, Xylo. We are a team. If something happens, don’t try to handle it all by yourself. Talk to us. I know this mission is reckless, but you’ve got to rely on the rest of us. Don’t come up with a plan that hinges on a desperate solo effort, and—”

“Okay, okay. I got it.” I was used to lectures like this, and every time, I gave the same answer. “Don’t worry. I’ll figure something out like I always do.”

“Were you even listening to me?!”

For some reason, my reply seemed to upset Patausche even more.

“Hi, Xylo. So nice of you to stop by.”

The moment I stepped inside the tent, the captain of the Eighth Order, Adhiff Twevel, greeted me with a faint smirk and a nod. He was a mild-mannered individual who spoke with a gentle tone, but his eyes were as cold as ice. His record on the battlefield was genuinely impressive. He’d traveled mostly around the east, containing countless outbreaks of Demon Blight and proving himself as a meticulous, well-prepared commander.

“What’d you want to talk about?” I didn’t try to hide my foul mood; personally, I wasn’t very fond of Adhiff. “Obviously, my opinion means nothing. So if you want to give orders, give them to Venetim. He’ll pass them on to me.”

“Venetim Leopool… What an interesting fellow he turned out to be.” Adhiff wasn’t an idiot like most people around here. He probably saw right through Venetim and knew that he was a commander in name only, with no business being anywhere near a battlefield. “There is no one more fit to be the commander of the penal hero unit. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Save the sarcasm.”

“I’m serious. He has a kind of balance to him. Actually, let me rephrase that. He’s so perfectly off-balance that he somehow miraculously holds you all together. At any rate, I find him fascinating, and a con man like him might be just the person to pull off the impossible.”

“Enough about Venetim. What do you want?”

“Well, then… Let’s first sort out this situation we’re in.” He took a seat in a small foldable chair and nodded. “Unexpected circumstances have accelerated things, and the mission will have to start far earlier than initially expected. Allow me to add that this was an order from the supreme commander, so there’s nothing we can do about it. Therefore, we need to come up with a strategy.”

“It’s not like we agree with the supreme commander’s decision, either,” chimed in Hord Clivios, the captain of the Ninth Order. His usual grim expression seemed even more dreary today. He looked exhausted.

“The Sacred Key, Kaer Vourke, is essential to the mission,” he continued. “That is how we will sneak into the Second Capital.” Hord cast a melancholy glance at some stacks of paper on the table—evidence of hours of discussion and debate. “I asked the supreme commander to reconsider, as I believe we must exercise more caution, but he has made his decision.”

“The supreme commander is itching to make a name for himself as soon as possible. A truly fearless leader.” Adhiff’s tone was undeniably sarcastic this time—he loved to make wisecracks like this. “He brought a legion of his own soldiers to serve as the main force for reclaiming the capital. Considering the influence of the leading nobles, he determined that to maintain balance, he would have to place the greatest burden on—”

“I don’t want to hear about politics,” I interrupted. “You’re putting me to sleep. We penal heroes have to follow whatever orders we’re given. That’s all there is to it, right?”

“Wonderful. That’s Xylo Forbartz for you.” Adhiff slapped his hands together a few times. It took me several moments to realize he was attempting to clap—that was how empty a gesture it was. “We’re lucky you’re still so sharp. I’ve always liked that about you, even back when you were the captain of the Fifth Order.”

“Well, I hated you because you always sound so sarcastic. Are you trying to rile me up?”

“Oh my. Not at all. Do I look foolish enough to pick a fight with someone they’re calling the Thunder Falcon?”

“Okay, now I know you’re making fun of me!”

“…Stop with the pointless bickering,” said Hord with a sigh. “We’re wasting valuable time.” He had a point. This was meaningless banter—one of the things he hated most. “Adhiff, quit trying to get a rise out of him. We need to use this time to discuss the mission.”

“But of course. We are entrusting the Kaer Vourke to the penal hero unit. In the event something happens, we must be able to retrieve it immediately. Therefore… Kelflora.”

Adhiff snapped his fingers and looked back, and someone who had been standing quietly by this whole time suddenly lifted her head. Inside the tent were Adhiff, Hord, me, and one other—a petite young girl with silver hair and a doll-like, expressionless face. This was the Goddess Kelflora.

“Lend him a shadow, would you?” said Adhiff.

“Mm.” There was a little hum, so faint it could almost have been the sound of her breathing. “What kind of birds do you like?” she asked, looking up at me through her eyelashes.

“Huh? Birds?”

“Yes. Birds.”

She held her hands out, palms toward the ground, as sparks shot into the air. Her shadow began to squirm and billow out like smoke. It floated up into the air and gradually took the vague form of a winged creature.

“What about a pigeon…or a swallow…?” Kelflora moved her finger as if she were stirring the smoke, transforming the shadow into each bird she named. “What kind of birds do you like?”

“I, uh—”

“Falcons. Right, Xylo?” interrupted Adhiff. What an asshole.

“Hey.” I tried to stop Kelflora, but it was already too late.

“Okay. Falcon it is,” she said. Then she stirred the shadow with her finger twice, giving life to a tiny falcon. It was around the size of my palm, and while it didn’t have eyes, it did have something resembling a beak. Before another second passed, the shadow silently flapped its wings a few times and came to perch on my shoulder. “Put him in your bag. If something happens, he’ll bring the key back to us.”

“…All right.”

“Do you not like him…? I suppose I could have made him a little cuter…”

“No, this is fine…”

Kelflora furrowed her brow slightly. She reminded me somewhat of a tradesman.

With the shadow falcon still atop my shoulder, I turned back to Adhiff and Hord. Adhiff was chuckling, for some reason.

“So is this what you wanted to talk about?” I asked. “Retrieving the key in case I die?”

“I am truly sorry about all this.” Adhiff bowed reverently, but I couldn’t take him seriously. This was clearly all an act. “We will have to leave the details of the infiltration mission to the ingenuity of the penal hero unit. I have high expectations of you all.”

“Well, isn’t that convenient for you.”

“You know what? I’m going to be completely honest with you. I was convinced the mission would fail the instant Supreme Commander Marcolas Esgein made his decision to move up the schedule. At that point, the job of a proper captain is to minimize casualties.” Adhiff shifted his gaze to Hord and said accusatorily, “Of course, there isn’t a single commander in the Holy Knights who would ever gamble away our precious resources on the off chance that the penal hero unit would come out victorious.”

“…Yes, that’s true. This mission in particular could hardly even be called a gamble. It’s impossible.” Hord awkwardly averted his gaze. It sounded like someone wasn’t a fan of our little stunt to defeat Demon Lord Charon. “If the mission is deemed a failure, then the Kaer Vourke must be retrieved as soon as possible.”

“So you’re telling me to either pull out quickly or screw up and die as fast as I can?”

“That isn’t what I’m suggesting.”

“Captain Hord is so kind,” said Adhiff. “I, on the other hand, like to be a little more straightforward.”

“I, too, am beginning to grow weary of your sarcastic tone,” snapped Hord. The two men’s gazes met, but a second later, Kelflora interrupted them.

“Adhiff,” she said. “At times like these, you need to apologize. Do you understand?”

“If that is what my goddess wishes.” Adhiff bowed once more, this time to Hord. The gesture was surprisingly sincere. “I apologize for offending you… And Xylo, there is one way we can support you on your mission. Do you remember what I mean?”

What a condescending shit.

But if that really was the only support they could give me, then I couldn’t waste it. The deal was that if I went along with the plan, they’d restore one of the many sacred seals carved into my body, returning one of my old powers.

“One sacred seal,” I said. “I get to choose, right?”

“Of course. Which one will it be? I’m assuming the seal meant for sieges? Or perhaps something like Carjisa to give you a wide-area attack—”

“Neither of those will help me sneak into the capital. Not only would they be poorly suited for the job, but they also consume a ridiculous amount of my internal luminescence.”

Both were powerful seals, but they weren’t essential for this mission. What I needed right now was…

“I’ve already decided which seal I want.” I rolled up my left sleeve and held up my arm, indicating a certain sacred seal engraved there. “We’re in a hurry, right? Let’s get this done.”

“I suppose so.” Adhiff smirked. “I wish you the best of luck, Thunder Falcon Xylo.”

What a load of crap, I thought. Adhiff Twevel was a different sort of liar than Venetim, but he was just as bad.

The Second Capital of Zeyllent, once the heart of the Former Kingdom of Zeal and a bustling metropolis below a towering castle, saw its status shift with the birth of the Federated Kingdom. While its population may have been smaller than that of the Industrial City of Rocca or the Holy City of Kivogue, it boasted an especially solid defense system designed to thwart the Demon Blight. It had robust castle walls, cutting-edge fixed cannons, and even sacred seal–engraved defensive nets and shielding. And all of that protective equipment was still intact.

And now it was our problem.

“Sneak inside? I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” remarked Tsav. “I mean, I’m a genius, and I could totally make it happen if I had time to prepare. I’d need to check their security, search out a route, prepare the necessary tools… Planning ahead like that is what makes you a good assassin. Otherwise, you’re just some doofus randomly shooting whoever walks by.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve done just that,” I said. “Several times.”

“Ah! Now that you mention it… Wow, Bro, I can’t believe you remembered something like that. You’ve got some real talent.”

“‘Something like that’? You’re a notorious murderer!”

“But I only picked people to kill that I thought would be easy. If I could choose any town I thought I could sneak into, there’d be no problem. But we don’t have a choice here, do we?”

What an idiotic conversation. But if Tsav said he couldn’t do it, he was probably right.

“Dotta’s a burglar,” he said. “I’m not. I’m an assassin. Like, I don’t think he plans out anything he does. That’s some crazy skill.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.”

“I bet Dotta would just straight-up climb the wall with his bare hands. He’d probably find some sort of blind spot, too. That’s impossible for someone like me.”

“Climbing up the wall with your bare hands is certainly crazy, but are you saying he has some special power that allows him to find blind spots?”

“Hmm… Maybe.” Tsav hummed in thought for a moment. “But now that I think about it, I bet Dotta would come up with an even more ridiculous way to get inside. His mind is something else. Like, think about what happens when Dotta steals from someone and then runs away. He always runs toward where the faeries are, right?”

“Huh? Oh yeah…”

Now that I thought about it, that had happened back in the Couveunge Forest. I’d been shocked when Dotta ran into me with that scorched terrain seal right when I was surrounded by faeries. It had seemed almost too convenient. The same thing happened at Mureed Fortress as well. When the mercenaries chased him, he ran right toward me.

Was all of it mere coincidence? Or did he think he had a better chance of escaping if he simply ran wherever there were fewer people? If you ran toward the source of the Demon Blight, people would obviously stop chasing you. But if that was his only reason, then he was just an idiot—beyond human comprehension.

“It’s like Dotta functions outside the normal rules of the world or something,” said Tsav. “You get me, Bro?”

I did not “get” him, but I understood that sneaking inside Dotta-style wasn’t going to work. I had to come up with another way. The man with the closest skill set to Dotta’s was Tsav, and he said it wasn’t possible. That meant I had to get creative.

Neither Jayce nor Norgalle were any good in situations like this. I had already asked Norgalle if he could think of any tools we might use to sneak inside, but he’d also claimed it was impossible. After all, the penal hero unit was always at the bottom of the list when it came to supplies, and we hardly had any paint or other raw materials needed for engraving sacred seals. Up until now, as long as we could find something valuable to sell, we’d been able to buy what we needed from the Verkle Corp merchants. But without Dotta, that was out of the question.

“I have a novel idea for a weapon we might try, but we have neither the time nor the materials needed to create it,” Norgalle declared in his usual solemn tone. “Anyhow, when do we start reclaiming the capital? I still have not reviewed the troops, and I don’t remember ever giving permission to carry out this so-called Project Saint, either! Are you saying the high priests at the Temple silently consented to this? Commander-in-Chief Xylo, bring me whoever’s responsible this instant!”

“Yeah, all in due time.”

The furious yelling had started, so I decided to take off. If any of the higher-ups thought we were fighting, they might lock us up, and I couldn’t have that.

But before I left, I made him a promise. “No matter how long it takes, I’m going to find whoever was responsible for all this and bring them to you, Your Majesty.”

Jayce was more or less the same.

“Go away. I’m busy,” he replied, clearly in a foul mood. He was glaring at a map of the Second Capital and its surroundings with Neely, seemingly trying to formulate a plan. Then again, he might have just been soaking in the sun.

“There has to be a demon lord that can fly. That much is certain, since no ordinary faerie could have stopped the capital’s dragons. Dragon knights are the elite of the elite.” Jayce was most likely right. “I’ve been hearing rumors of one named Sugaar… He sounds pretty powerful.”

It was unusual for Jayce to describe an opponent as powerful with no other addendums.

“The humans tried to build a base on the front line, but their unit was completely wiped out,” I said.

“Every last soldier was killed? I thought they brought dragon knights for protection.”

It wasn’t often that a dragon knight got shot down. Jayce grimaced before continuing as if he were talking to himself. “The issue is Sugaar’s special attack. They’re calling it a “Radiant Bomb.” Not only can it track targets like our javelins, it explodes and can be used in rapid succession. The blast radius is supposedly massive…”

Jayce crossed his legs, then leaned back against Neely, as if he were sulking. The dragon reached over and bit down on his blue scarf, then fixed it back into place with great finesse.

“We’ve got to come up with a way to counter that attack, or we’re dead,” said Jayce.

“We might be wiped out before we even get to the air combat stage. We’re being sent on a reconnaissance mission.”

“Figure something out,” he said curtly. “Neely and I are already handling all air combat by ourselves. Or do you have someone else that can take out Sugaar? Well?”

“If Neely can’t do it, then nobody can.”

I made sure to say her name and not his. Neely made a rumbling sound in her throat, and Jayce nodded, seeming not to mind.

“Glad we’ve come to an understanding,” he said. “Now beat it.”

There was no use trying to talk to him when he was like this. As I left the dragon stables, however, Neely let out a faint roar. Was she cheering me on, or apologizing for Jayce’s attitude? Maybe both.

In the end, it was Venetim who found our breakthrough.

Despite being a penal hero, he was strangely well-connected, and not only with our fellow soldiers, but with merchants, war correspondents, and even religious civilians doing volunteer work. Through them, he heard all kinds of stories. One in particular had stood out to him.

“…I heard humans have been seen coming and going from the Second Capital,” he told me that evening. I’d just come back to our shared barracks after an exhausting day, with nothing to show for it. “People are delivering livestock products from territories in the north and west ruled by the Demon Blight, and they’re even being paid human currency. Supposedly, there are a few merchants mixed in as well.”

“…Merchants? So that’s how they’re managing.”

I had considered the possibility before. After all, the Demon Blight had to be getting supplies from somewhere. But I was a little surprised by how straightforward they were being about it. I always figured they had a transportation unit made up of faeries for things like this… But they were using humans? I’d assumed the shipments were coming from military bases and that they had faeries blending themselves in with the transportation units.

Both demon lords and humans needed food. That much was unavoidable, and there was no way that the Second Capital was self-sufficient enough to feed everyone. In other words, they had to get their food from somewhere else, and if it was territory ruled by the Demon Blight, then it was coming from settlements and nobles who had surrendered.

“So you’re saying we can sneak in if we disguise ourselves as merchants? But…” Despite this being our only chance, there were a few problems with the idea. “…Without merchandise, we’re shit out of luck.”

“Well… I believe we could borrow some merchandise and a handcart from Verkle Corp. All we’d have to do is make them some money before returning the cart.”

“We’d still need to offer something as collateral, though.” At the end of the day, there was no way anyone would hand over their merchandise or tools without a guarantee. “Or are you saying you can get someone to invest in us just like that?”

“No, Verkle Corp won’t be that easy…”

“Right? Plus, you don’t really see merchants working alone nowadays. The enemy would find it suspicious if I went by myself, so I’d need someone else to go with me.”

“Yes… By the way, if I go with you, I am confident that I will only get in your way.”

Venetim wasted no time reminding me of how useless he was, but he wasn’t wrong. Just getting inside the capital wouldn’t be enough. We needed to fulfill our role as scouts, gather information, and escape. Venetim would just be an extra body, and in a worst-case scenario, he might even slow me down or screw up the whole mission. I immediately did some calculations in my head.

Patausche…probably won’t work. Think back to what happened at the Adventurers Guild in Ioff, I reminded myself.

Norgalle was out of the question, and Jayce was busy.

I could have brought Tatsuya with me as a bodyguard if he were here. Perfect. Right when you need him, he’s out of action. He was a man of few words and always did a perfect job. He was an ideal infantryman…which only made his absence now even more painful.

It wasn’t like I could bring Teoritta with me, either. This was a reconnaissance mission where her abilities wouldn’t be needed. Bringing her would only put her in unnecessary danger.

In other words…

“I have to choose between Tsav or Rhyno?! I don’t want to do this with either of them!”

“Yes… But if you had to choose…?”

“Stop! I don’t even want to think about it! Besides, we still don’t have any collateral for the merchandise!”

“About that… Please don’t get mad at me, okay? But someone caught me talking to the merchants…”

“…Who?”

I didn’t even need to ask; it was obviously going to be the worst-case scenario. In fact, I could already feel someone’s presence nearby. Without missing a beat, fingers lifted the cloth hanging over our room’s entranceway.

“There you are.”

It was my ex-fiancée, Frenci Mastibolt. She was a woman with iron-colored hair and a steely expression fitting of a Night-Gaunt, and she was currently glaring down at me with ice-cold, emotionless eyes, making it impossible to guess what she was thinking.

“What a miserable little room you have here,” she said. “If you can even call this a room. You’re a mess, Xylo. I cannot believe a member of the Mastibolt family sleeps somewhere like this.”

She spoke at an even pace, but went on and on without stopping. It was the first time we’d seen each other in quite a while, but I was already tired of listening to her. She was supposed to be deploying more troops to Ioff. How did she catch up with us so quickly?

What happened to the Southern Night-Gaunts’ army? Was her father taking command in her place? I supposed it would make sense, as he was their leader. But unlike his daughter, he was no soldier. He seemed to dislike fighting in general, and I imagined he wasn’t having a very good time out there.

“I cannot believe this,” continued Frenci. “I am going to have to ask them to speed up construction on that dungeon. Even wild animals sleep better than this. Does that former Holy Knight woman sleep in a room like this as well? What about the goddess?”

“They have a shack. It’s a bit nicer.”

The female members of the penal hero unit—Neely, Patausche, and Teoritta—were treated differently for various reasons. Neely always had a room to herself, Teoritta was obviously special, and Patausche was treated like her attendant.

“Oh. Well, I suppose that’s all right. More importantly, we must discuss the mission.” She seemed satisfied by my answer, though I had no idea why. “I will be your guarantor for this business. In return, you will sneak into and scout out the Second Capital as my husband. Even that onion-sized brain of yours can understand that this is the best opportunity you are going to get, yes?” Frenci brushed back her iron-colored hair.

Incidentally, onions were one of my favorite vegetables. Was she starting to tailor her insults? Not that it did anything to fix the base problem, of course.

“This way, the only thing you need to lie about is your status as a merchant, yes? Even someone with acting skills like yours should have no problem.”

Speaking of acting skills, I had to admit that Frenci was competent. She’d even infiltrated the Adventurers Guild in Ioff completely unnoticed. But before I could get a single word in, she snapped her fingers.

“I even brought a man with me to act as your guard. I’m certain that even you would prefer to work with someone you’re familiar with, and he was more than delighted to accept the role. I believe he said he was your partner?”

“Hi!” Without a shred of hesitation, a man popped his head out from behind Frenci and smiled. The expression was as aggravating as it was suspicious and pointlessly pleasant. “I heard the news.”

It was Rhyno… I started to feel faint.

“Comrade Xylo, you are going to sneak into the capital, correct? I would very much appreciate it if you took me along.”

During our previous battle in the Tujin Tuga Hills, Rhyno suddenly left his post, only to return later, dragging the remains of what he claimed was a faerie’s corpse, saying he would use it for some sort of experiment. The results must have exceeded his expectations, because he’d been looking like a new man full of energy ever since.

“I promise to be of use!” he said. “If you need a guard, I’ll be there for you. Yes, I shall be a bodyguard hired by Mr. and Mrs. Mastibolt.”

“We will need to change the family name,” said Frenci, “but let’s go with something like that. I’m sure it’s an honor, right, Xylo?”

“Wait… We can’t have you walking into the capital suited up in your usual armor. Are you sure you can handle that, Rhyno?”

“But of course.” Rhyno slapped his chest. “I have been in my fair share of scuffles without such protection. I’m especially skilled with a short spear, I believe.”

“You’re not sure? That doesn’t inspire confidence.”

“Ha-ha-ha. It’s been some time since I’ve used one. But I think it will be fine.”

Now that I thought about it, I’d never seen Rhyno using a sword or a lightning staff before. In fact, I’d never seen him grapple with anyone in hand-to-hand combat, either. Supposedly, he was once an adventurer, so he must have had some such skills… There was so much about him that didn’t add up.

“…Give me a second to think,” I said. My gut was telling me to turn him down, so I held off as long as I could. Would Tsav be any better? I didn’t know what to think… This was an extremely difficult decision. “The plan itself could work, but we don’t have much time to prepare… We need disguises and a solid story.”

“Oh, that’s my wheelhouse. I came prepared,” exclaimed Venetim with a reserved smile. What a piece of garbage. “I’ll do what I can to buy us some more time. I think I can manage around half a day, so let’s use that to fine-tune the plan.”

“How are you going to do that? Adhiff and Hord already told me to hurry my ass up. Didn’t you say earlier that the time was non-negotiable due to the Saint’s arrival?”

“I’m going to lie to them and say you two already left in the middle of the night,” he said casually. Lies came as naturally as breathing to this guy. “So please make sure nobody outside sees you walking around.”

“Thank you, Comrade Venetim,” said Rhyno. “Comrade Xylo, I’m looking forward to working with you!”

“I will handle everything on my end with utmost perfection,” said Frenci. “So try not to do anything reckless and ruin the entire mission, okay?”

Great, I thought. I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.

Once we had our cart, I loaded it with nonperishable foods: jerkies, oil-packed fish, dried fruits, and salt. Manufacturing salt had become a national endeavor a few years back, and it was probably pretty hard to get ahold of in the Second Capital. Of course, a great deal of it was likely circulating on the black market, but it was difficult to transport so far out and thus still a valuable commodity. That would be our in.

All that was left was to raise a flag featuring our company name “Bartzmas’,” and we would look like real traveling merchants. It was my job to pull the cart, while Rhyno carried his one-handed spear. Meanwhile, Frenci’s duty was to sit on her horse, reprimanding me. Hers was a cushy job, but I couldn’t complain, since she was the sole investor in our company.

Incidentally, Patausche Kivia was furious when she heard about our plan.

“…What’s the meaning of this?” Her voice was level, and her expression remained composed, but her pupils had dilated ever so slightly. “You’re going to sneak inside disguised as merchants? Then why didn’t you ask me for help? Obviously, I’m most suited for the job.”

“…Why is that?” I asked.

“Because of my acting!” She slapped one hand against her chest. There wasn’t a shred of doubt in her eyes. I wished I knew where that confidence came from. “Did you forget about what happened at the Adventurers Guild? My acting almost had them completely fooled!” she insisted.

“Relax. You need to look at this a little more objectively. You ‘almost’ had them fooled. In other words, you failed…”

“I did not!” Patausche looked like she was about to grab my lapels in a rage. “Didn’t you repeatedly insist that Frenci was merely your ex-fiancée? And yet look at you now, all giddy that you get to be a couple while you play pretend in the big city.”

“I am in no way looking forward to this.”

If the idea of sneaking into the capital sounded fun to anyone, they ought to get their head checked out. Patausche, however, wasn’t interested in what I had to say.

“At any rate, you need to recast this little play at once. I’m going with you. The plan will obviously fail without me.”

“Xylo, what are you doing?” Frenci had gallantly appeared right in the middle of our heated exchange, already on horseback and dressed in merchant attire. “You do not have time to be playing with a woman like her. We must leave. Or do you want the mission to fail?”

“Wait. Frenci Mastibolt, I have an objection,” snapped Patausche, pushing me out of the way and stepping toward the woman atop the horse. “For the sake of this mission’s success, I want you to switch roles with me immediately. We need someone who can both fight and act, and I—”

“Unfortunately for you, I, Frenci Mastibolt, provided the money for all the merchandise you see here,” she said, as if announcing her victory. “Furthermore, allow me to assure you that I am just as skilled as you at both fighting and acting. Now, if you will excuse us, we have work to attend to.” Frenci brushed back her iron-colored hair before offering the other woman a reverent bow. “Take care, Lady Kivia.”

I could practically hear Patausche’s teeth grinding as we headed out. Apparently, she was even more competitive than I’d thought.

Traveling northwest alongside the river from Mount Tujin took us to an old highway stretching from Mureed Fortress to the Second Capital. This route, known as the Horseshoe Trail, got its name from the countless soldiers and warhorses that had packed down the dirt beneath their feet. We would follow this trail along a rather lengthy detour to the east, leading us to the Second Capital’s west gate, where merchants could supposedly gain entry.

The gate only opened in the early morning, and there was already a huge line. Security was tight and made up of humanoid faeries like knockers and dunnies. It seemed these troops were being led by a handful of humans.

I was actually surprised by the Demon Blight’s handling of the gate. It was exceptionally crude. Soldiers typically considered logistics, and I’d assumed they would put together a transportation unit to handle things like this, but it seemed I was mistaken. The way they were operating was way too risky. Reflecting on the enemy’s actions so far, I’d noticed they had a tendency to seize control of remote regions and then gradually expand their territory. This was the first time I’d seen them attack a major city in a central area. Perhaps they’d simply never had to deal with transporting goods on this scale before.

“If this is how they’re getting supplies, then perhaps we should simply take out every last merchant, farmer, and noble who has dealings with them,” suggested Rhyno. “That way, we could starve every demon lord and faerie in the Second Capital. I believe that’s a rather good idea. Just thinking about it excites me. The only issue…would be that the citizens of the Second Capital would have to suffer, too…,” he went on, essentially talking to himself. I listened as he thought up this plan, then realized the implications halfway through and abandoned it. “What a cruel world…”

I was a little put off by how genuinely distressed he sounded. Regardless, having both Frenci and Rhyno made slipping through the castle gate almost disappointingly easy.

“We are merchants by the name of Bartzmas,” stated Frenci, giving a deep bow to the inspectors at the gate. She had none of her usual confidence or noblewoman’s elegance, proving just how skilled she was as an actor. She even wore a faint smile. “We sell preserved foods from the east, and we would love to do business if you agree to pay in the currency of the old kingdom.”

“Preserved foods are always welcome here. You need human food to keep the humans alive, after all,” admitted the inspector. He spoke in a detached manner, despite being a human himself. Maybe he had to think like that if he wanted to survive.

“…Stay calm, Comrade Xylo,” whispered Rhyno, standing by my side. “Killing this soldier in a rage would only make the situation worse.”

“I know… Wait. What kind of person do you think I am?” I’m not pissed all the time for no reason.

“How rude of me. I have a hard time predicting what will make you angry. Comrade Dotta and Comrade Tsav said the same thing when I asked them, so I’m close to giving up.”

“You guys are all assholes.”

Meanwhile, Frenci and the soldier continued their exchange.

“From your appearance, I assume you’re a Night-Gaunt?” he said. “Who are these two men with you?”

“The one with the spear is our bodyguard. He goes by Noor, Devourer of Hearts.”

I couldn’t imagine a more unsettling name. Rhyno leaned against the cart, assuming a crude attitude.

“And this is my husband, Lloyd Bartzmas. If only he wasn’t so unfriendly… Honey, please greet the soldier.”

“…Hey.”

She wanted unfriendly, and she got it. Only when she smacked me on the back did I show some respect and bow.

“My apologies,” she said. “He’s always like this. It makes our business much more difficult.”

“Yeah, I bet,” snorted the soldier, clearly mocking me.

I’ll remember his face, I told myself.

“You better be grateful that you have such a kind, hardworking wife,” he said to me. “I know I am. I would have never gotten a nice, cushy job like this if it wasn’t for my wife’s sharp wit.”

So working as a gatekeeper was a nice, cushy job? At the very least, he wouldn’t have to worry about becoming some faerie’s dinner, so I imagined it was one of the better jobs for humans in the capital. Rhyno patted me on the shoulder, as if to say, “Don’t let it get to you.” I wasn’t even angry.

Frenci said a few more words, then our cart was manhandled by the inspector. They found the salt rocks we were trying to smuggle inside, which worked perfectly. All Frenci had to do was hand them a small pouch of salt rocks as a bribe, and they immediately gave us permission to enter the city. The only thing left was for them to inspect Rhyno’s weapon. The entire process was anticlimactic, to say the least.

As soon as we received clearance to pass through the castle gate, the soldiers hurried us along. Judging by the crowd, it was going to take them at least several hours to interview all the people and inspect their goods. In fact, it was probably going to take all day.

Fire curled into the sky, quickly spreading to nearby buildings. The enemy struggled to douse the flames. Did the Demon Blight even have infrastructure for such things? Maybe they didn’t care and deemed it a human problem. The scene was chaos.

Fortunately, this made it slightly easier for us to get around. We managed to leave the central square before the roads were blocked, and although it was a risky move, it sure beat having our belongings searched. Both Frenci and I were now holding the modest weapons we’d hidden beneath our merchandise. The four palm-sized knives and short sword I’d packed weren’t much, but it was the best I could do under the circumstances. Frenci was wielding her usual curved swords, and Rhyno still had his spear. All we had to do now was continue to run without getting caught.

We hid in an alleyway and observed the soldiers’ movements.

“They’re a bit slow,” said Frenci, “but it seems they’re determined to seal the area off thoroughly.”

Her curved swords were already unsheathed. Engraved into the blade of each was a sacred seal that emitted lightning when touched—a classic weapon of the Southern Night-Gaunts.

“The more thorough they are here, the looser security will be elsewhere. Let’s make our way to the east side.” I drew up a map in my head. We knew the commotion had started in the south. We should probably avoid that area and lie low in the east. The enemy might already have noticed our absence at the inn. And in that case, we needed to be quick. “It shouldn’t be too hard to get through right now. We’ll just have to take care of four or five guards.”

“And we’ll need to do it all in the blink of an eye,” said Frenci.

“Think you can handle it?”

“Of course. Can you? You haven’t been slacking on your training, have you?”

Frenci set her eyes on me and smiled. She seemed in a better mood, for some reason. What a baffling woman.

“Rhyno, back me up. You’re the only one with a decent weapon, so you handle the faeries before they call for help—”

“Comrade Xylo, wait. What about that?” He said, suddenly grabbing my arm.

Toward the back of a narrow alley to one side, I could see someone shouting and running. He seemed to be fleeing, and I soon saw what was chasing him—faeries. These were the mid-sized, horned creatures known as bogies. A single, armed man was leading the charge. He looked like a security officer chasing after a criminal.

“Help…!” shouted the one running away. He was filthy and unkempt, covered in cuts and bruises. He must have tripped several times. Was he asking us to save him?

“Xylo, we are busy. We have a mission to take care of,” warned Frenci.

I was in complete agreement. We were still pretty far away from this troublesome bunch; we could easily lose them if we ran. Rhyno, however, continued staring at me, apparently deep in thought.

“I’ve heard her opinion, but what do you think, Comrade Xylo? Is this where we go our separate ways?” His tone was casual, but he’d just made it clear he was going to try to save the guy no matter what we did. Even Frenci was taken aback.

“Surely he is joking. Xylo, how is this man still alive? Even worms have better survival instincts.”

Don’t ask me. Rhyno was just like this—it was something I’d known for a while. He was the kind of guy who would ignore orders on the battlefield to save settlers left to die by the higher-ups. He liked to take risks for little gain; if he was a regular soldier, he’d probably have been executed long ago. Go get yourself killed, for all I care, I wanted to tell him. Don’t get a bunch of poor conscripts mixed up in your stupid schemes! Asshole.

I never should have brought this guy with me. I should have picked Tsav. I wasn’t any happier with that piece of crap calling for help, either. He could have chosen any direction, and he just had to run toward us.

“Frenci, I want to know why they’re chasing him,” I said.

“Have you lost your mind? Think of the mission.”

“I know. Our mission is…” I paused for a second before letting out an amused snort. “To reclaim this city and its people. And that includes that random dumbass over there. We penal heroes aren’t allowed to disobey orders, so unfortunately, you’re gonna have to go ahead without us.”

I unsheathed my short sword and dashed past the fleeing man, straight into the pack of faeries. I counted four of them.

“Thank you, Comrade Xylo. This is why I respect you so much.”

Who needs respect from a freak like you? I thought, sensing Rhyno close behind.

I slipped past a bogie’s horn, then shoved my blade into the back of its neck. The short sword, with its wide, single edge, was hefty enough to lop off a human arm—flesh, bone, and all. A bogie’s soft neck was nothing.

One down.

The next enemy was more cautious and tried to slip into my blind spot. But just as it leaped to the side, I activated my flight seal, Sakara, and propelled myself up above the creature’s head. Good luck finding a blind spot now, I thought as I swung my blade.

Two down.

Rhyno had already taken care of the others. The tip of his short spear was curved in the shape of a thick leaf, and when he swirled it, it cut as well as a blade. It seemed his weapon wasn’t only good for thrusting. As he sliced into the bogies’ bodies, he stabbed each of their hearts two or three times for good measure. It was a vivid, gruesome sight.

Only the human soldier was left… But I could tell the battle was over without even looking.

“Do you have any idea how pressed we are for time?” grumbled Frenci. “You two are unbelievable.”

The Southern Night-Gaunts were masters of the curved sword. One touch of their blade discharged a lightning shock so powerful, any opponent was instantly neutralized. I couldn’t be sure if she’d used the lightning this time, however.

“Xylo, Rhyno, I cannot even find words to express how foolish this was. What were you two thinking? Especially you, Xylo! Not only are you a member of the Mastibolt family, you are the leader of the penal hero unit in all but name! Do you call this solid judgment? How are you going to explain—?”

“Wait.” I slammed my left fist into the alleyway wall, halting Frenci’s stream of insults. “This isn’t over yet.”

I could hear a shrill roar cutting through the night. This sound, however, had been tuned so that only I could hear it.

Loradd, a probe seal, was developed primarily to find enemies via echolocation. However, there were several nonstandard ways to make use of it as well. This was the sacred seal I had chosen for this mission. It seemed much more useful than something geared toward destruction, and at the moment, I felt justified in my decision.

“There’s something coming from above.”

I could sense them drawing near. Loradd—the seal on my left arm that emitted the vibrations—and another for detection, engraved on my back, were a pair meant to be used together. Their maximum range of effectiveness was around two hundred steps, allowing me to accurately detect anything the vibrations touched in that radius.

That was how I’d noticed the two humanoid faeries above us, each the size of children. Brownies, no doubt.

They leaped down from above, swinging their sharp claws. They were surprisingly quiet, but they weren’t much of a threat in such a narrow alleyway, as long as you noticed them before they ambushed you.

“Sigh. Unbelievable.”

Frenci continued to complain, but she quickly took up her swords again. Her iron-colored hair painted a crescent in the air as she disposed of one of the incoming brownies in a single swing. She didn’t even have to activate her lightning seal. I used my short sword to promptly take out the other.

“I’m impressed. I was worried they might call for backup,” I said, paying Frenci a compliment. I figured she wasn’t interested in any explanations.

As expected, she merely narrowed her eyes, a sour look on her face. “We’ll discuss your actions later.”

“Yeah. I’ll be sure to punch Rhyno then, too,” I said, turning to him. “Don’t try to dodge.”

“Wh-what? Me?” Rhyno’s off-putting smile faded, and he appeared to think about something. His expressions were always exaggerated, but I got the feeling he really was racking his brains this time. “…It doesn’t make any sense. Why would Comrade Xylo be angry with me? We just worked together to save a citizen from being slaughtered by faeries, did we not?” He seemed genuinely confused, which only made me angrier.

This wasn’t part of the plan. It was obviously a mistake, and yet I felt like trying to explain that to Rhyno would only waste more time.

“Xylo, I am not finished with you. Listen to me.” It sounded like Frenci wanted to start arguing again. She poked me right between the ribs, something I always found particularly painful. “Are you penal heroes always doing things like this? I thought that incident at the Adventurers Guild was a one-time screwup. There truly is no time to waste. We must have you pardoned as soon as possible.”

“Leave it… I don’t want to cause your father any trouble.”

“‘Trouble’? How can you say that with a straight face? You are already causing trouble for everyone around you. What you need are prudence and human judgment. Even insects have better risk management instincts than you!”

That comment had given me a chance to strike back, and I had a lot of things I wanted to say to Frenci.

“Hold on a minute. You’re the one who needs to work on risk management. First off, stop walking ahead of us. What if you get hurt?”

“H-huh?”

“From now on, stay back. Don’t underestimate the enemy. Your life is far, far more important than ours, and if something happens, I have to protect you.”

“…Guh. Why does he have to act like this now?!” Frenci muttered. She covered her face with her hands and fell silent. Had she finally started listening? If something happened to her, I could never face Frenci or her father again. Rhyno and I were penal heroes, so it didn’t matter how badly we got hurt. Even if we died, we could be brought back to life. But Frenci was different. That was all there was to it.

During this exchange, Rhyno was helping the man we’d just saved sit up.

“Hey there,” he said with a smile. “You okay, sir? Any injuries? You hurting somewhere?” There was something off about his demeanor, though…

Oh right. He’s pretending to be a bodyguard. He must still be trying to keep up the act.

“You’re lucky you ran into us,” he went on. “We’re traveling merchants. Just arrived at the capital, so we’re not too familiar with—”

“Rhyno, drop the act. Look around you. It’s over, and we need to go.”

“Hmm? Really?”

I patted Rhyno on the shoulder to stop him before he wasted any more time rambling. More importantly, I had a good idea who this terrified citizen was. Why else would a soldier and a bunch of faeries have been chasing him?

“I heard a soldier yell something about the Resistance the moment he saw the explosion. And I’ve heard the rumors.” I peered into the man’s eyes. They reminded me of a deer’s, as did the rest of his face. “Are you part of it?”

“…Who are you?”

Caution immediately clouded his expression, but there was still a chance he might trust us. He was skeptical and suspicious. After all, we’d just effortlessly slaughtered the faeries pursuing him.

I was still hoping to get some useful information out of him, however. That was the whole reason I’d agreed to save him. I wasn’t doing charity work like that idiot Rhyno, so Frenci really had no right to complain. I swear I wasn’t just looking for excuses for my actions, either.

“We’re here to save you,” I said. “We’re secret agents working for the Federated Kingdom’s Ninth Order of the Holy Knights.”

I imagined Hord’s glum expression as I casually lied, gently wrapping my hand around the back of the man’s neck. It probably looked like I was trying to calm him, but I was actually just making sure he couldn’t run away.

“If you’re a member of the Resistance, then we need to talk,” I continued. “I want you to take me to your base.”

He looked away, tears welling up in his eyes. “…I—I can’t. The Resistance has fallen.”

“What?” This was not how I expected this conversation to go. It felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice-cold water over my head. “Excuse me?”

“I am the head of the Resistance. That explosion you saw—that was the warehouse we were using as a hideout. We just burned it to the ground.” As he spoke, I began to grow dizzy. “There’s a place we promised to meet up if something happened, but who knows how many of us are still alive? Th-things can’t get any worse…,” he muttered through tears.

So this was our reward for saving him. I clicked my tongue in frustration, but Rhyno seemed pleased.

“How lucky for us. One member of the Resistance is still alive, and if things can’t get any worse, then it’s time to turn the tables and fight back. Let’s get to it, Comrade Xylo!”

“Xylo, I know I was the one who chose this Rhyno fellow.” Frenci looked at me with a straight face. “But I am starting to worry that I made a very, very bad choice.”

“You’re as sharp as a tack, Frenci. I only wish you’d figured that out yesterday.”

But we didn’t have time to dwell on the past. When I looked up, I saw that the chaos was gradually spreading out from the central square. They must have been widening their search area and blocking off all routes of escape—perhaps even this one.

“At any rate, we need to get out of here,” I said. “Take us to the meeting spot.”

“I—I told you! It’s over!” The deer-faced man’s voice had become nasally. He was practically sobbing now. “There’s nowhere to run… I bet they’ve already blocked off every possible escape route.”

“Then we’ll use a path they can’t seal off, and I’ll make sure they can’t track us, either.” I patted the small bag on my back containing the Sacred Key, Kaer Vourke. This would allow us to lock and unlock any sacred seal–locked door in the Second Capital—a true master key. We’d been given a real handy item, and I was going to make full use of it. “Let’s take the underground waterway. I know of a few maintenance entrances for the hot springs.”

“What a brilliant idea,” said Rhyno, smiling. His expression was so pleasant, I wanted to punch him right in his stupid face. “It’s so refreshing to finally do something spy-like, especially since almost nothing has gone according to plan.”

And whose fault do you think that is? I thought as I jammed an elbow into Rhyno’s side.

The repair shop was some distance from Mount Tujin, and Dotta Luzulas was already tired from the moment he and Tatsuya were released.

Can’t I get a few days off to rest up? he thought. Maybe I can take anespecially long route back and check out a few villages and towns alongside the great river of Kinja Sheba.

His plans were ruined, however, when a woman arrived saying she was there to pick them up. She had smoky-red hair and a strangely sharp gaze. Her right arm was wrapped in bandages.

“Time to go, Dotta Luzulas,” she said. “Or should I say ‘Hanged Fox’?”

The woman’s name was Trishil. She was a former mercenary-turned-soldier, and the scowl on her face sent a shiver down Dotta’s spine. He didn’t recognize her. Maybe he was suffering memory loss from all those times he’d been brought back to life.

“You’re rejoining your unit, right? Get on your horse. I was told this Tatsuya fellow can ride a horse, too, as long as he’s ordered. Is that correct?”

“Um.” Dotta stared at Trishil, puzzled. “Uh… I don’t mean to be rude, but…” At last, he made up his mind and asked: “Who are you?”

“I am Trishil. I already introduced myself to you earlier. I’m Trishil of the Burning Eyes.”

“Oh… Uh… Sorry, I don’t remember you.”

“I figured as much. It’s humiliating, but no matter. My only goal is to get you back onto the battlefield as soon as possible.”

“Wh-why?” squeaked Dotta. “This makes no sense. What kind of evil organization hired you to do this?!”

“I’m forbidden to say. I wish it didn’t have to be this way, but there’s nothing I can do. Dotta, do you remember being interviewed by a man with a vile smirk when you were sentenced to become a hero?”

“N-no… Who are you talking about? Some big shot in the military?”

“Then forget about it! You wouldn’t understand even if I told you!” She twisted her lips and squeezed her horse’s reins with her bandaged right hand. Dotta caught a flash of her sharp canines.

“I have a personal stake in this as well,” she went on. “Listen, Dotta. I’m gonna train you, because I refuse to believe that some pathetic, third-rate petty thief bested me!” Trishil glared at him. A murderous rage burned in her eyes. “But first, we need to head back to the battlefield. Don’t even think of trying to run away, unless you enjoy pain! I can find you, wherever you are, as long as I have this stigma…” She pulled down her collar, revealing a black birthmark-like pattern near her collarbone. “There’s no way you can escape me. I won’t stop until I’ve made you a man. I’m gonna turn you into the greatest warrior in all of history!”

“Uh…”

“Now hurry. It seems you’re needed for an undercover mission in the Second Capital.”

“That sounds like the last thing I wanna do. Can’t I just go home?”

“Do you even have a home outside the penal hero unit?”

“No, but still.”

After losing the will to argue any further, Dotta glanced to his side. Tatsuya had fallen asleep with his eyes half-opened. He was making a strange, throaty gurgle.

“Geh-geh,” he groaned. The frog-like noise sounded almost like a laugh.

The actual state of the Resistance was far worse than I had imagined. In short, I was disappointed. That was my main impression. There were barely twenty members, and that included people still in hiding somewhere in the city.

There was an issue with the quality of the members as well. I was hoping for a group of soldiers and city police who had the ability to strategize. At the very least, it would have been nice to have some public officials who had worked at the castle or big shots from the world of commerce and industry.

But according to the deer-faced man…

“…I used to be an adventurer,” he admitted, stunning both Frenci and me. He introduced himself as Madritz Keynan—a name associated with the former Kingdom of Meht. He was also the leader of the Resistance, aka the Mole’s Nose. “I got together all the ruffians and people I knew from my time as an adventurer…and created the Resistance.”

Once we reached the aforementioned meeting spot, we were finally able to settle down and relax. It was in one corner of a residential district meant for the less fortunate classes and far from the main shopping district. In other words, we were now in the Ash Tray on the east side of the city.

We decided to hear the man out and were taken to a room in a communal apartment. The space was cramped, to put it mildly.

There, Madritz explained how the Demon Blight had greatly reduced the population and how a mandatory reassignment of the city’s housing had left this place practically empty and free for them to use. That was how they’d avoided the guards and stayed hidden for so long.

We blocked up the windows and used sacred seal talismans for light, then we boiled some water in the basic cookware we’d brought along and ate a simple dinner while listening to Madritz’s story. Our food consisted of flattened wheat dumplings, sprinkled with salt and spiced with a little sleewak powder, which was certainly better than nothing.

“So the resistance movement was made up of adventurers, huh?” I said, while sipping some leftover juice from the dumplings. “But why would people like you join a resistance movement? Wouldn’t it be better to have some soldiers or government officials?”

“Yes, but they all either turned into faeries or ran away or were assigned roles watching over their fellow humans for the Demon Blight…”

There was a hint of desperation in Madritz’s smile. It sounded like there weren’t any soldiers loyal enough to the royal family to join in a revolt.

But that made sense. Those people had probably all died trying to protect the capital when the Demon Blight came, and the survivors had sacrificed themselves to help the third prince and princess escape. In short, we couldn’t rely on the remaining soldiers for anything.

“At the end of the day, we adventurers were seen as a reserve food supply, since the Demon Blight seems to prefer using criminals and outsiders first. If we didn’t do something, we’d just be waiting our turn to be eaten.”

In other words, the Resistance was a group of thugs and rogues.

“That’s rough. So there aren’t any regular citizens in your group?”

“All of them…are just trying to protect themselves and their families. They’d rather buy time by letting us get eaten and wait to be saved by the military…or else they’re doing their best to impress the Demon Blight into giving them an administrative position.” Madritz sucked in a breath, then made a throaty sound I suspected was meant to be a laugh.

Interesting. It seemed the Demon Blight was working out a rather clever way of managing the humans. They’d let the rebellious and the weak die out, leaving only the obedient and smart ones. It was a good strategy, and it pissed me off. I didn’t even know why it made me so angry.

“To be honest,” said Madritz, “we were just a group of outcasts desperate to survive, who secretly banded together…”

“It sounds like your group was not so secret, though, was it?” Frenci pointed out. Her harsh tone and blank expression made Madritz shrink back. “They took care of you in one fell swoop. There must have been a traitor among you, yes?”

“…There was. A father named Kevil. He ratted us out… Was it that obvious?”

“Of course. In fact, I could come up with numerous ways to expose a sloppy little club like yours. You were essentially doing no more than playing pretend.”

“U-um.” Madritz shrank back even further and shifted his gaze toward me in desperation. He looked like he was about to cry. “Um… Excuse me. This woman really frightens me…”

“Listen,” I said. “She’s being a lot nicer than someone who just pats your back and gives you a few vague words of encouragement. She’s pointing out what you did wrong. You know your group was garbage.”

“Urgh…” Madritz groaned and turned to Rhyno. But here, too, he received no warmth or kindness.

“Mm. I’m not surprised by what happened at all. You’re quite lucky you ran into us.” Instead, Rhyno offered his special brand of over-the-top optimism, with a dash of the unsettling. “Now you’ll have another chance to reclaim the capital and ensure victory for mankind. You should be thrilled! We won’t let your bravery or your life go to waste.”

Madritz looked troubled. Or maybe he was simply staring hard at Rhyno’s face. Come to think of it, Rhyno had said he used to be an adventurer. By some chance, did Madritz know him…?

“Hey, uh… Are you…?” Madritz began hesitantly. He was staring at the spear by Rhyno’s side. “Are you the Slithering Shark? Rhyno Molchet, the Slithering Shark?”

It seemed I was right. My gaze naturally shifted to the man in question. He was by far the most mysterious member of our unit… Well, I supposed everyone had a past full of mysteries, but Rhyno was certainly no exception. And “Slithering Shark”? That was quite the nickname.

“Wow, Rhyno,” I said. “I had no idea you were called something like that. How’d it happen?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes… In the past, I was an adventurer, and I spent a lot of time in the ruins. I often got into scuffles with other adventurers down there. Perhaps people saw me as some sort of vicious creature lurking underground?”

“I don’t think most people would call those ‘scuffles’…” Madritz stared at Rhyno with a look of pure terror. “You were famous—er, are famous, for killing other adventurers. Anyone who’s done business in the north knows your name… There are even rumors that you killed people you were working with.”

“I see…” Rhyno placed a hand on his chin, as if he were deep in thought. For a moment, the atmosphere grew tense. I got the feeling he hadn’t wanted anyone to find out about his past. “You must have known me back then. Perhaps we met somewhere before? I must admit, I don’t remember you.”

“We haven’t met… I’ve just heard of you. There were rumors you were going to raid the ruins at Origin’s Gate, right? I was just a rookie back then… But I saw you and that huge party head off from some distance away.”

Origin’s Gate. I vaguely remembered a ruin by that name, located in a territory already under the Demon Blight’s control. So Rhyno had gone to raid the place? The more I found out about him, the more confused I got.

“What happened to the team you went with?” asked Madritz. “Like Dica? And Sedon? …Did they all die there?”

“Yes, something like that,” Rhyno replied ambiguously, then he put on that suspiciously pleasant grin of his.

I bet he killed them all, or something equally nasty. Maybe he even lied about volunteering for the penal hero unit.

“Who cares about this man’s past?” Frenci interrupted coldly. “Right now, we need to discuss our next steps. Madritz, you and your men being exposed so easily has made it extremely difficult for us to act. Xylo, is there any way you could explain the situation to our allies outside the city?”

“Actually, it’s just about time for us to report in.”

I touched the sacred seal on the nape of my neck. Its range wasn’t exactly unlimited. Norgalle could probably ramble for hours on how it worked, but I only knew two things about it: The weather affected the call’s quality, and distance mattered. For that reason, Venetim was supposed to move closer to the city at set times so we could be sure the signal would reach in case anything happened.

“I’ll relay our findings and tell them what we’re up to. That’s all I can do, though.”

We needed to think, and I was already feeling a headache coming on. A group calling itself the Resistance had fallen apart because the members had been incentivized to rat one another out. I got the feeling this strategy hadn’t come directly from the Demon Blight. At least, no demon lord I knew of had ever tried something like this before. That meant there was someone capable of strategizing willingly helping the enemy. Things were looking worse and worse.

“I doubt they’ll change their strategy no matter what I tell them,” I said. “Our goal is still to sabotage the Demon Blight while our allies attack from outside. The only question is how we’re going to do it.”

“Which means we have no time to loaf around here,” said Frenci.

“We have the Kaer Vourke, so we can open any gate, but we’ll need to be able to hold it until our allies attack. As for sacred seal weapons… Even I could probably come up with something if we had the base materials, but…”

When I joined the military, we learned how to engrave simple sacred seals, but even the most basic seals required special varnish, materials, and a lot of patience and time, especially if you wanted to craft something as intricate as a throwable explosive. Norgalle’s skills were truly remarkable, since he could do such an amazing job so quickly.

“Frenci, Rhyno, how good are you guys at engraving sacred seals?”

“I know the basics,” replied Frenci, “so I should be able to help, but do not get your hopes up.”

“…I’m guessing I’m about the same,” said Rhyno. “I won’t be able to do anything complicated.”

It was clear neither of them would be much help, but I had no choice but to play the hand I was dealt.

“I need more information on the capital’s security measures. What can you tell me?” I asked Madritz.

“There are human soldiers and small faeries… I never see any of the demon lords around town.” His face was clouded with fear. He must have been terrified every day, no matter what he was doing. Considering how sensitive and unprepared he was, I was impressed he’d managed to put together a resistance at all.

“The security inside the city isn’t very tight. We’re not allowed to move freely, but we were able to use a series of unguarded underground passages.”

“…The sewers again?”

Frenci’s expression was as blank as always, but her disgust was clear. She wasn’t the type of woman to meaninglessly repeat what others said. Although she’d willingly come with us through the sewers to get here, she’d covered her mouth the entire way, and I doubted she was thrilled at the prospect of walking through filthy water again.

“But all the routes leading outside are thoroughly monitored,” Madritz continued, “and that includes the ones underground. A demon lord patrols them… A most unholy creature…” He trembled. “Demon Lord Afanc. Everyone who tried to escape was ripped to shreds by that thing.”

“They’re using a demon lord as a guard, not a faerie?” I asked.

“Did you see the towers in the north? A few of them were smashed, right? That was Afanc’s doing. It sliced right through them while shredding the escapees… All in a single strike.”

“Seriously?”

I was more taken aback than terrified. Was the demon lord putting no thought at all into its attacks? I supposed it had served as a decent warning. Either way, it was clear this guy was strong.

“Afanc would be extremely difficult to take head-on,” Rhyno said suddenly. “He’s sluggish, but carelessly getting too close could prove fatal. As you saw, his claws are powerful enough to slice through buildings, and there’s essentially no way to block them…”

“Are you familiar with that thing?” I asked.

“Well, yes. A little. Um… I believe I heard about a unit of humans that headed into the northern woodlands and were completely wiped out. Apparently, around a thousand men were ripped to shreds along with a great number of trees.”

I could see all the color drain from Madritz’s face. What was the point of scaring this guy to death? I waved a hand to cut Rhyno off.

“We need to review what we know. How many demon lords are in the capital? What do you—?”

It happened before I could finish my sentence. Rhyno was the first to notice and casually grabbed the spear standing to his side.

“Comrade Xylo. Outside.”

His quiet warning was followed by some footsteps and a knock at the door. They knocked twice, stayed silent for a few seconds, then knocked four more times. It sounded like a special rhythm.

Without blinking, Frenci silently placed a hand on the hilt of one sword. I unsheathed a knife, then slammed my left fist into the ground, creating an echo with my probe seal, Loradd. I sensed eight people outside.

“Hey, Madritz,” I said. “Did the enemy find us?”

“N-no, that was the signal!” He stood up, flustered. “The plan was for everyone to meet up here if something happened. We agreed on how we would knock… You people are crazy. Were you going to attack first and ask questions later?!”

We heard a voice from the other side of the door, proving Madritz right. It was low but desperate.

“Madritz! You’re in there, right? Help. Kevil betrayed us! We surrendered, but he still tried to turn us into faerie food!”

“Yeah, I bet that bum just didn’t want to pay back all that money I lent him!”

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do! Kevil found out that I tried to bang his wife. He’s gonna kill me for sure!”

There was no telling if there were more traitors among the people outside, and we had no time to worry about it, either. If we let them keep making noise like this, someone was going to find us.

“…Madritz, do you have it in you to keep going?” I looked at him, and he recoiled in fear, as if I was glaring.

“Keep going…and do what?”

“Lead the Resistance. I know this is sudden, but I’m gonna make you guys into the best damn saboteurs this capital ever saw.

We were severely short on manpower, and we needed all the help we could get. We had to put these guys to the test and determine how useful they were and how much we could trust them in the process.

“Please, Madritz. We need your help.”

“Xylo, you are a member of the Mastibolt family. This is no time to beat around the bush.” After belittling my approach, Frenci stood up and continued sharply, “We are taking over your resistance. You will now follow our orders.”

There were too many things getting on Jayce Partiract’s nerves. The mood at the temporary fortress of Tujin Bahark had done a one-eighty the moment Xylo Forbartz left on his mission.

Stop distracting me, thought Jayce. He had to focus on the battle ahead, but there was too much noise in the fortress. Right now, he had three main problems.

The first one was the Saint. Yurisa had finally arrived at the temporary fortress. Jayce couldn’t have cared less about her, but he kept having to listen to people gossip all day long. Not even the dragon stables were safe from her rumors. Apparently, she was very young. He’d been forced to see her for himself during a ceremony where she held up the flag of the Federated Kingdom and stood in front of the troops, leading them around in a parade.

Saint Yurisa never spoke, but even from afar, you could see she stood with firm resolve. Her scarlet hair burned like fire, and her right eye sparkled. But other than that, she seemed like an ordinary girl. Then again, Jayce always had a difficult time telling humans apart.

Nevertheless, she seemed to inspire all the soldiers who saw her. She would stand boldly, her collar unbuttoned to expose the stigma by her collarbone. Jayce had heard people enthusiastically claim this mark was proof of her sainthood, and many of the soldiers seemed to have high hopes for her.

How idiotic, he thought. But he kept that opinion to himself.

Up until a decade or so ago, stigmata were considered curses. Before the Demon Blight became the threat it was today, some even claimed they were portents of calamity. After all, those with stigmata could see and hear what others could not.

It was only in the past few years that people began to view stigmata in a completely different light. The Temple, which had previously refused to comment on the matter, suddenly made an announcement, claiming that stigmata marked the descendants of the heroes from the First War of Subjugation. Ever since, the bearers of these marks were treated as if they were blessed.

Seeing how the Saint raised the soldiers’ morale put Jayce in a cynical mood. If Xylo were here, he could at least have complained to him to blow off some steam. But now he couldn’t even do that.

The second issue was Goddess Teoritta. She had been in a foul mood ever since Xylo took off.

“What blasphemy! How dare he leave me behind!” she would say whenever she came to the dragon stables to voice her complaints. “I shall not forgive him for this! It is a serious act of betrayal! This is even worse than the crimes he committed against me in Ioff! He did not even ask my permission, much less bid me good-bye…!”

It seemed Teoritta wanted everyone to know how furious she was. Sparks discharged wildly from her hair.

“Neely! You agree with me, right? He deserves divine punishment the moment he gets back. What kind of sanctions do you think would be reasonable?”

The goddess realized that Jayce wasn’t going to pay any attention to her and began talking to Neely instead. But the dragon simply whined and lowered her gaze, looking to Jayce to rescue her. Unable to keep ignoring the goddess, Jayce decided to humor her while he worked on saddle maintenance.

“…Would you have been able to help if he’d brought you along, Goddess?”

“Yes. I am an excellent goddess, and karma is on my side for always doing the right thing.”

“Uh-huh.” There wasn’t much else Jayce could say to such a confident statement. Typical Teoritta, he thought.

As he listened to her endless complaints, he recalled a rumor he’d heard from Venetim. When Xylo wasn’t around, Venetim would bother Jayce or Tsav instead, sharing a bunch of nonsense information from who knows where. It was a real pain in the ass.

“It seems they plan on having Goddess Teoritta fight alongside the Saint.”

Venetim had stopped by the dragon stables and shared this bit of gossip while Jayce was busy trying to come up with a plan.

It’s like they’re taking turns trying to bother me, he thought. But then again, he always found other humans a bother.

“They seem to have set their sights on Goddess Teoritta’s ability to summon the Holy Sword, and you can imagine the publicity a Saint would get from wielding the ultimate weapon, capable of wiping out the Demon Blight in a single swing.”

“Don’t care.”

“In other words, we are going to be the Saint’s underlings from now on. ‘We’ being the penal hero unit, of course. Well, we’ll be more like her meat shields, I suppose.”

“Don’t care.”

“It appears we’ll be doing just that during the mission to reclaim the Second Capital.”

“Knock yourself out.”

Venetim gave up trying to talk to Jayce after that.

When it came down to it, protecting the Saint was going to fall to those on the ground. If they wanted support from the skies, they were going to have to wait for every flying enemy to be eliminated, especially Demon Lord Sugaar.

Plus, according to what Jayce had been told, there were at least three demon lords in the Second Capital. Maybe even four. So eliminating Sugaar would fall to those in the air. Specifically, to Jayce and Neely. He doubted anyone else could handle it.

As he let his mind wander, Jayce felt something heavy pressing down on his lungs. He would always feel this pressure before he took to the skies. There was no doubt in his mind that he and Neely were mankind’s greatest weapon when it came to aerial combat. But that also meant that, should they fail, mankind would lose their command of the sky. And if something were to happen to Neely—well, Jayce didn’t even want to think about it.

The third issue was Patausche Kivia. She tended to her duties and took care of the horses as usual, but there was something off about her. Unlike Teoritta, however, she seemed to be quietly pouting to herself. Normally, her former subordinates from the Thirteenth Order would come by to talk to her. But these days, not one of them dared approach her. Jayce didn’t have time to get involved in her problems, but now that Xylo was gone, Patausche was their de facto commander.

If he let this continue, Jayce was worried they’d suffer catastrophic losses. That said, some people performed better in a foul mood. It was similar to how a person could push themselves harder when they wanted to show others that they were capable. Which kind of commander was Patausche, though? That was the sort of thing that only became clear in actual combat.

From what Jayce could see, she was a sharp commander. Occasionally, he would glimpse her from the skies as she led her cavalry, and she was always one step ahead of her opponents. In addition, the worse the situation got, the more precise her actions became. Perhaps a little pressure would do her good. With that in mind, Jayce decided to give her a small warning.

“Stop being so grumpy,” he said. “Or at least hide it a little better.”

“What?”

“Xylo’s an idiot, I know. But don’t let it upset you so much. If you’re mad about him going on a mission with that woman Frenci, don’t be. I’m sure he put no thought into it whatsoever.”

The air around Patausche was so tense, Jayce thought she might unsheathe her sword and attack him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, speaking all at once. “It’s true that Xylo is an idiot, but that doesn’t mean I’m in a bad mood, and even if I were in a bad mood, it would have nothing to do with Xylo, and if anyone’s going to complain about someone being in a bad mood, it shouldn’t be you.”

“…Oh. Well, all right.” All Jayce could do was shrug.

Patausche was extremely skilled in close combat without the aid of sacred seals, especially when it came to the sword. She was probably even better than Xylo and Jayce. He suspected that her overall skills were second only to Tatsuya’s. In short, Jayce didn’t want to fight her. It would be way too much trouble.

While these three problems plagued Jayce, the only human he enjoyed talking to was Norgalle. Not that he wanted to chat about just anything, of course. He needed Norgalle’s knowledge and skills for the upcoming battle. And, at least from Jayce’s point of view, the man was a lot easier to talk to than the others. You just had to ignore his delusions.

“…If I were to make an educated guess…”

Norgalle was in the middle of analyzing some ideas Jayce had posed to him. Jayce had taken detailed notes on the testimony of dragon knights and their dragons who had either fought or witnessed someone fighting Sugaar. When it came to things like this, he was quite thorough.

“These guided rays of lights that Sugaar fires should be no different from the technology used by a dragon knight’s javelins and some of our cannons. The homing functions are most likely exactly the same.”

“That means there’s no way to block the attacks. I’ll just have to outpace and outmaneuver them.”

“No. Considering the homing function and the blast radius, that will be quite difficult. It will be hard to find a break to attack as well. Therefore…” Norgalle had already taken out a brush and a piece of paper and begun drawing a complicated diagram. “We must adopt appropriate countermeasures.”

“A new weapon? Is that really going to help?”

“If I finish it in time, it will. Listen, Jayce Partiract. You have a lousy attitude for a retainer, but you are still a brave dragon knight supporting my kingdom, and I have no doubt that you are the greatest of them all.” As Norgalle’s brush glided across the paper, a sacred seal began to take shape. “Losing is not an option. I shall personally pave a path to victory for you, so you must bear the pressure and fight.”

Those words were like a weight filling Jayce’s lungs.

You don’t have to tell me that. I already know.

Jayce continued speaking with Norgalle a bit longer, before returning to Neely in the dragon stables. She had been waiting for him with her wings folded, and he sat down by her side.

“I’m back,” he said, just as he always did. “What an exhausting day. There’s so much crap to deal with,” he muttered, rubbing his neck. “And it’s all because Xylo’s not here. That dumbass really knows how to ruin my day. He’s causing a lot of trouble for you too, Neely.”

“What? He’s not causing me any trouble at all,” the dragon purred. Jayce was able to hear her voice. This power was apparently called “Attune” and came from Jayce’s stigma. The mark, present from birth, gave him the ability to interpret any living creature’s vocalizations as words.

“You must be exhausted, too, right?” he said. “I’ll tell Teoritta not to stay too long.”

“No, no, no. I actually enjoy her visits. She’s a real cutie.”

“You don’t need to be nice. You covered your ears halfway through her rant last time, didn’t you?”

“Ha-ha-ha-ha!” Neely cackled, though to anyone else, it would probably just sound like random, high-pitched cries. “It was a little tiring having to listen to so many complaints, but it’s not her fault. It’s Xylo’s.”

“I’ll make sure to give him a good ass-kicking next time I see him.”

“Be gentle. From what I can see, Xylo is going to be…” Neely paused, as if she were having a little trouble finding the right words. “Either an amazing hero or an utterly wicked villain. He reminds me of you. A little.”

“We’re nothing alike.”

“I said ‘a little.’”

“We’re completely different. Give me a break.”

Jayce recognized he was being teased and leaned back against her to get some rest. The day had drained him with all its pointless tasks, and with the Saint’s arrival, he knew they could be sent out at any moment. His gut told him it would be soon, too.

What a pain. Why now, of all times?

What was Xylo Forbartz doing? Although Jayce had denied it, according to Neely, Xylo was the only man in the world who was anything like him. And if that were true, then Xylo had an important duty to take care of.

For Jayce, all that mattered was protecting the dragons, or at the very least, protecting Neely.

But Neely won’t let me stop there, will she?

Jayce had no desire to become a hero. Even as he shut his eyes, the pressure in his chest continued to bear down on him. An unsettling sensation gnawed at his nerves. Something big was about to happen. Xylo and the others were already in the city preparing for the mission. And once preparations were finished on both sides, it would be time to take action.

And that’s probably gonna happen…

They were going to have to risk their lives. He felt a headache coming on.

…any moment now, huh?

And his gut ended up being right.

The very next day, those in charge announced it was time to reclaim the Second Capital. It would be the first battle with Penal Hero Unit 9004 fighting alongside the Saint.

He glared down at the Second Capital from up in the castle tower. The cool night breeze felt good against his skin. Below, the city lay shrouded in quiet darkness, as if devoid of human life.

If they’re going to attack, it’ll be tomorrow or the day after, thought Tovitz Hughker.

He’d come to this conclusion after hearing the faerie scout’s reports. Human scouts would have brought him more precise information, but he didn’t have any humans to send.

Many of those in the city still struggled to sever their ties with humanity. Foolishly, they clung to the hope that the Demon Blight wouldn’t eventually dominate the entire world. And if they still believed that, and he sent them out to spy, they wouldn’t return. And what would be the point of that?

“…Tovitz,” came a voice from behind him. “I have finished looking into it.”

The voice was deep but thin as a whisper. Tovitz didn’t even turn around. The one behind him wouldn’t show himself anyway. That was just the kind of man he was.

He went by the name “Soola Od”—clearly not his real name. In the days of the ancient kingdom, the words referred to a particularly deadly insect, so toxic that a single bite could fell not only a human but a full-grown bear. It was a fitting name for an assassin.

Soola Od was a well-known “tradesman” mastering in the art of murder, and he’d been conveniently imprisoned in the Second Capital’s dungeon. He was skilled, of course, but Tovitz had selected him for his past record. As long as you paid him, Soola Od would never betray you. He was so loyal, in fact, that he’d taken the fall for the person who’d hired him and gone to prison in their place.

Tovitz had tried numerous other prisoners, but Soola was the only pawn he’d found useful.

“The rumors about the Saint working alongside the military at Mount Tujin were true,” said Soola. His voice was so soft, it was nearly inaudible.

“Then that will be our focus,” said Tovitz, still looking out over the city. “Since the Ninth Order of the Holy Knights uses poison, it’s safe to assume another unit will be protecting the Saint. Maybe the Eighth Order or their fabled special unit. Maybe both…”

He thought for a moment. If such a special unit existed—if mankind’s secret weapon was as he imagined it, then some of its members were probably already inside the capital.

He’d rendered the Resistance mostly powerless, and he doubted there were more than thirty adventurers left. Those pathetic thugs were hardly a threat to him.

Nevertheless, there was a chance this special unit would use them to their advantage. Tovitz had done his research, and it seemed they’d been adopting the same kind of strategy since the battle in the Zewan Gan Tunnels. It would be best to tread carefully.

“You were right about another thing,” said Soola, snapping Tovitz out of his trance. “I saw Jayce Partiract at the camp, and he was with a blue dragon.”

“I figured.”

Tovitz could hardly contain his joy.

What wonderful memories. Leading dragons into a rebellion…

The impetus had come when a plan was announced to use dragons as powerful living weapons. Sacred seals engraved onto their bodies would serve as shackles, and they would be made to carry scorched terrain seals and crash directly into the Demon Blight’s base. The idea was that, if they sent one hundred dragons, at least one would be successful.

That was all they needed to allow them to switch from defense to offense. The general who came up with this plan claimed it would form the base of an all-out counterattack—what was his name again?

The plan was being seriously considered. Though looking back, Tovitz figured it was probably the idea of the coexisters. Either way, that was the plan that inspired Jayce’s rebellion. He hadn’t hesitated for a second.

“Be careful around him,” said Tovitz. “I’m sure he’s a member of the enemy’s special unit.”

“Is this Jayce Partiract guy really that tough?”

“He was the strongest dragon knight there ever was. I’m sure he still is.”

Tovitz recalled Jayce’s foul expression. They’d never be able to defeat him in battle. What should he do? Though he knew it was pointless, Tovitz turned to look behind him. Unsurprisingly, Soola was nowhere to be found. He must have been lurking somewhere in the shadows.

“Do you really believe you stand a chance against the Federated Kingdom’s military?” Soola’s voice held a hint of ridicule. “Because I’m not going on a suicide mission with you if that’s what you want. I’m going to get the heck out of here before we really start losing, so from now on, I’ll be taking my payments in advance.”

“Yes… I don’t see how we can win this battle…but His Excellency Abaddon appears to have a plan.”

“He has a plan? He’s a demon lord. He may look human, but he probably has the brain of an insect.”

“Maybe,” Tovitz replied ambiguously.

Under the current circumstances, there was almost no chance Abaddon would be able to keep control of the Second Capital. He had to have some sort of ace up his sleeve. Or perhaps he was after something else entirely. At the very least, Tovitz found it hard to believe that he didn’t have a plan. This was the same demon lord who had taken the Second Capital so effortlessly.

He has to be hiding something. But what?

Tovitz wasn’t interested in winning or losing, however. Even if they lost, all he needed to do was help Anise escape to safety.

“We’ll simply have to prepare for the worst. Soola, I have a favor to ask of you. I want you to strike first before the special unit makes a move.”

“You sound scared.”

“I believe they’re our biggest threat right now, and I’m positive we won’t be able to defeat them if we fight them head-on. We need to keep them busy—stop them from moving around. I’m counting on you.”

“Sounds more like a personal favor. How much are you willing to pay?”

“As much as you want.” Tovitz had been given more money than he had ever seen in his life, but it had almost no value to him. If anything, Soola was the unusual one here. He was working for the demon lords and yet still saw value in human currency. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Tovitz would do anything for her—for Anise. Even if that meant fighting the strongest dragon knight in the world.

Jayce thought his wings were just late to sprout.

He couldn’t breathe fire, and he didn’t have horns, either.

His fangs and claws were weaker than others’. He was a slow runner, and he didn’t have tough scales, so he had to wear the flesh of dead animals. At times, he had to put on thick furs to survive the harsh winters of the Great Plains of Southern Giscomb.

For all manner of things, he was taught to pretend to be a human.

Why am I different from everyone else?

That thought plagued him. The others in his family had wings, claws, fangs, and scales. They could breathe fire and soar through the sky.

Once, Jayce had tried to copy them and had jumped off one of the rocky crags they lived on. He truly believed he would grow wings. Everyone else could fly as a matter of course, so surely he would be able to as well. But instead, he fell straight down. Luckily, he was saved before hitting the ground, but he received a harsh scolding and had to promise never to do it again. Ugruf, the dragon that raised him, was a man of few words. But back then, he was very clear.

“Idiot,” he growled, baring his fangs. Jayce could vividly remember it even now. “You…cannot…fly alone.”

That’s ridiculous, thought Jayce. He really believed that one day he would grow wings and fly, just like the others.

His childhood was never lonely, and he suffered no abuse. Even though he couldn’t fly, even though he looked different from the others, his family was still his family, and his friends were always there for him. They played in the fields together and hunted side by side. Jayce learned how to create fire and everything else he needed to survive in the grasslands.

When did I first learn that I was an animal known as a human?

It must have been when he told Ugruf about his dreams. All of his same-aged friends yearned to become a knight’s dragon one day. It was their greatest ambition. Knights’ dragons took to the skies with a human warrior atop their backs and bravely fought against the faeries and the Demon Blight. They were the world’s protectors.

Of course, Jayce was eager to become one himself and often imagined a human riding on his back as he soared through the sky. Unfortunately, he didn’t have any wings. So he asked Ugruf when his wings would start to grow, and the dragon finally explained to Jayce who he really was.

Jayce was a human, despite his friends and family being dragons. He was abandoned in the grasslands soon after he was born because of the strange birthmark called a stigma on his back. Ugruf further explained to him that he would never be a knight’s dragon.

“Just as we…cannot…become human,” he began, trying to be as clear as possible. There weren’t many dragons who could speak, and Ugruf was particularly skilled. Jayce later learned this was why Ugruf had been chosen to raise him. “Humans…cannot…become dragons.” He gave a sad, powerful roar.

Jayce was in no mood to sleep at home in the craggy mountains that night. Instead, he wandered the grasslands alone until he arrived at a stream created by melted snow. There, he spoke with Neely.

Among the dragons living in the plains, Neely was the most skilled at speaking. What’s more, she was the smartest, quickest, strongest girl he knew. Despite her young age, no adult could keep up with her.

Ugruf once told Jayce that Neely was a special dragon—the only true dragon, born to fight back against the Demon Blight. Ever since departing from the land known as Tír na nÓg, the others of her kind were slowly withering away. She was the only one among them who still possessed their primordial power. According to Ugruf, she was a descendant of the dragons’ great leader, Kukulkan.

Jayce often talked to Neely. He could still recall nearly every conversation they’d shared—at least for now. And he remembered what they’d said that night beneath a moon as blue as her shimmering scales.

“…That just means you’re special, Jayce,” she’d said quietly, after hearing him out. “I can tell. In fact, I have special powers of my own.”

Even now, Jayce wasn’t sure if she’d been telling the truth about him or not. He knew she was special, though. She possessed the powers of the dragons of old, back when they were even smarter and stronger than they were today. Maybe she really could tell if he was special. And besides, if Neely said something, Jayce had no choice but to believe her. If he didn’t, who would?

“You can do things that others can’t,” she continued. “You’re better at speaking than anyone else, for example, and you’re more skilled with tools, too.”

“But I can’t fly or breathe fire.” He sighed, producing only a white cloud. Neely could have scorched the grasslands with a single breath.

“Then leave things like that to those who are good at them.”

“But I can’t protect you like this, and I don’t want to leave that to someone else.”

“Oh,” said Neely, before falling silent.

She seemed to be thinking about something, but the quiet frightened Jayce. He felt like she might flap her wings and fly off at any moment, leaving him behind.

“Then…what if I let you ride on my back?” she said at last. “I could breathe fire for you, too. In return, you could come along and protect me.”

“You’d let me do that…?” He was so shocked that he forgot how to breathe. “…Really?”

“Really. I promise. I want you to fly with me.”

“That makes me so happy… All I want is to protect you. As long as you’re safe, Neely, that’s all that matters. And I’ll protect the dragons that live in these plains, too. If—”

“That’s not enough.” Neely suddenly cut him off, much to his dismay.

“Huh?”

“That’s not enough if you’re going to fly with me. I need you to promise me something.”

“What?”

“My battles are not mine alone… So you can’t just fight for me or the others in the Great Plains. You have to fight for the world. You have to fight for everyone alive—for strangers you may never meet or know.” She made a sad sound deep in her throat. “The wisdom of the dragons is slowly fading. Fewer and fewer are born who understand language.”

That much Jayce knew. There were numerous dragons he couldn’t converse with. Many could use only basic words concerning battle and hunting.

“…But the Demon Blight is a threat to all living creatures,” said Neely. “So we must fight alongside mankind, or there will be no future.”

“Hold on.” Jayce stopped Neely, feeling flustered. “I don’t get it. Why would I fight for someone I don’t even know?”

Jayce couldn’t wrap his head around what she was saying. Even now, he didn’t completely understand what she’d meant.

“You’re saying we should risk our lives for humans, too? I can’t do that.”

“Then I can’t bring you with me,” she replied. “If you’re going to fly with me, then you have to make that promise. But…to tell the truth, I’d be happier if you refused.” She seemed unusually hesitant. “After all, you’ll have a much harder life if you go with me.”

That’s not fair.

It wasn’t fair to put it like that. How could he refuse now? He couldn’t ask Neely to face those hardships by herself. She was essentially asking Jayce to go through hell with her.

And he’d never once refused her.

“…Do you think I can do it?” he asked.

“You can. You’re special. I can feel it.”

“All right.”

“You’re going to become an amazing hero. That or an amazingly wicked villain. And I know you can do more than just protect the things and people around you. You’ll save the whole world, which is much bigger than you can imagine.”

Jayce didn’t have any interest in that. How was someone who couldn’t even protect the ones in front of him going to save the world? Or was the power to do that what made him special? Either way…

“If you really believe that, Neely, then I’ll trust you.”

“…Yes, trust me, Jayce.”

“All right. Then I promise.”

When he looked up at Neely, he found the dragon, with her shockingly blue azure scales, staring right back at him. Perhaps she’d been doing so the entire time.

“I promise,” repeated Jayce. But in his heart, he added that he was doing it all for the world in which the dragons lived. If protecting humans and every other living creature was what it took to accomplish that, he’d do it. He couldn’t be any more charitable than that.

Only a month later, Jayce was “discovered” by humans.

The Partiract family found him during the Dragon Seeking Festival, and he came under their care. The Partiracts were the leaders of a group of nomads and one of the noble families of the Federated Kingdom. For a while, he became famous in the area as the boy raised by dragons.

He joined the Partiract family and, sometime later, learned of General Delph Hugorlin’s plan for the dragons. And that was the catalyst for his rebellion.

Many humans lost their lives in the battle, but Neely agreed that they couldn’t allow hundreds of dragons to be meaninglessly sacrificed. Mankind would have lost their control of the skies.

And so they revolted and succeeded in killing General Hugorlin. But after that…

“Jayce, we’re up!”

An irritating voice roused Jayce from sleep. Sunlight streamed into the dragon stables; it seemed morning had arrived. Neely rumbled her throat, already awake.

“Sounds like you’re up,” she whispered, as she always did. Apparently, she didn’t consider this her problem. “You have a noisy visitor here to see you.”

“…So it seems.”

Jayce sat up slowly as a certain someone stomped through the stables. The dragons on either side turned their heads to watch as the newcomer passed by. It was Tsav…followed by a hesitant Venetim. The dragons clearly frightened him.

“Quiet down,” demanded Neely, calming the others. She had complete control over them. One, however, couldn’t suppress her curiosity.

“Friends of…Leader?” asked a youthful dragon. Jayce silently nodded back. Neely must have ordered the others to call him that.

I don’t care what they call me, thought Jayce. Besides, anything was better than “Lord Jayce” and “Your Excellency.” Neely must have put them up to that as a joke.

“Jayce, they said it’s time to take li’l Yurisa and head out!” said Tsav. “They’re about to start the meeting, so we need you to, like, come with us.”

“…Yurisa?” The name sounded familiar. Jayce knit his brow in thought. “Who’s that?”

“What?! Did you already forget, man? We went to meet her together!”

“We didn’t ‘meet’ her,” corrected Venetim. “She was reviewing the troops… Or was that more of a parade? At any rate, Tsav, calling her ‘li’l Yurisa’ is extremely rude, so please don’t do so in public… She’s a saint…”

Despite Venetim’s little tirade, he didn’t seem too sure of what he was saying himself.

On the bright sight, Jayce now knew that Yurisa was the Saint. In other words, Venetim’s shady information had turned out to be right: The penal hero unit had been assigned to protect her.

“Anyway, she’s, like, stupidly cute, right?!” said Tsav. “Of course, Teoritta’s cute, too, but she’s a different kind of cute. Like— Oh, hey! We’ll get the chance to talk to her, since we’re gonna be fighting together, right?”

“Of course not!” shouted Venetim frantically. “Tsav, you cannot speak with the Saint, no matter what! The Holy Knights already have it out for us as it is!”

“Wait. Do you think they hate me? Well, that sucks. Man, it’s always been like this. I don’t know what I’m doing, but sometimes people start acting like they find me really annoying. But you know me. I trained myself to have nerves of steel, so I don’t care at all! You don’t need to worry about a thing!”

“I wish you did care…” Venetim rubbed his stomach. It probably hurt from stress.

Jayce sometimes envied Tsav. If Jayce had nerves of steel, maybe he wouldn’t feel this crushing pressure. It followed him everywhere, like an ever-present shadow, and it was the real source of his constant foul moods.

And yet…

“It sounds like you’re needed, Jayce. It’s time,” whispered Neely. “They can’t start the battle without Jayce Partiract, the hero of the heavens. It’s time to go. Don’t worry. I know you can do it.”

“Yeah. As long as you’re with me, Neely.”

She grinned. “Of course. I haven’t forgotten our promise. Have you?”

“Never. No matter how many times I die, that’s the one thing I’ll never forget.”

Jayce grabbed Neely’s shoulder and hauled himself up.

There were three public roads in the Second Capital of Zeyllent, but the most commercially active one was probably Silver Street Asgarsha, located on the eastern side.

The largest road was called Majesty Street and was used by the nobles, and Enlightenment Street, which ran through the school district, was impressive as well. But Asgarsha was slightly different from the other two. Beginning at the eastern gate and extending directly to the capital’s central square, it was the very heart of commerce in Zeyllent.

What’s more, there were two sides to Asgarsha. Due to its location in the east, it had an indelible connection to the Ash Tray. If you left the flourishing main road, you would soon find yourself in back alleys frequented by adventurers and other ruffians and outcasts.

Whenever I had a break from my duties, I would head to this road for fun. There was a grand bathhouse nearby, with water from a natural hot spring, and a recently opened theater. Unlike the First Capital, where I was somewhat well-known, I was nobody here, and I found the anonymity refreshing. I spent many nights wandering the streets, drinking until dawn with the captain of the Sixth Order, like we were students without a care in the world. That was why I had a pretty good knowledge of the area.

But “pretty good” was all it was.

When it came to the finer details, we couldn’t just rely on a map; we needed to scout out the areas ourselves. And I couldn’t leave something so important to those Resistance bums. So from sunset until dawn, when human and faerie patrols were lightest, Rhyno, Frenci, and I ran around the city as quietly as we could.

And what we learned was…

“…There aren’t enough materials.” There was no other way to put it. “At all.”

I was in a basement in the Ash Tray, which was serving as the Resistance’s new hideout, looking down at all the materials we’d managed to find for crafting sacred seals. We knew we’d never get our hands on decent base materials, so we’d done our best to find non-rusted iron plates, or at the very least, iron fragments. We had luminous paint, varnish, solution, equipment for engraving, and a good amount of paper scraps for the design phase.

But even with all this, I was still anxious. There was a high chance I’d mess up and make something completely useless. I didn’t have any faith in my own skills, and it took a lot of talent to improvise like this. But most people would be in the same boat as me in this situation. Norgalle was really a special case.

Rhyno was still out with several members of the Resistance, searching the city for more crafting materials. Unfortunately, they couldn’t just waltz into storage areas filled with supplies. The enemy would be guarding those more heavily, and we couldn’t send a bunch of civilians to die. They just didn’t have the skills to handle something like that. All I could do now was pray for their success as I put everything I had into engraving sacred seals.

“I had better see those hands moving, Xylo. Your hesitance does not inspire confidence.”

Frenci glared at me blankly. I stretched out the tense muscles in my back, then returned her stare.

“Look who’s talking. You’re sure taking your time.”

“…I have come to realize that I, too, am lacking in skill.”

She had been focused on mixing the liquid paint for some time. You had to be extremely careful when diluting and mixing luminous paint, as an incorrect ratio could shorten the duration or even weaken the effects of a sacred seal. To my surprise, Frenci seemed to be struggling.

She’d already created numerous failures. Looking back, I recalled Frenci was never that great with her hands. She didn’t like work that involved a lot of details, and arithmetic seemed to especially aggravate her. As a child, she would get so frustrated while studying arithmetic with her tutor that she would sneak out and flee to the house where I was staying. I often caught her hiding in the garden.

“I like poetry a hundred times more than math,” she once claimed. That, at least, was a sentiment I could get behind.

Even so, she was far better than an amateur. I trusted her more than the adventurers, at any rate. I briefly considered getting Rhyno to help instead, but as it turned out, he was unexpectedly skilled at covert operations. When I thought about it, it kind of made sense. After all, he frequently abandoned his post and seemed to disappear into thin air. He had the ability to sense danger and run, too. We’d be better off leaving him on scouting duty. Besides, Frenci was determined to do this, and she could be extremely stubborn. She despised when others underestimated her.

“…I sure hope they can find some more crafting materials,” I muttered, knowing it was unlikely. “I feel like we’re wasting a lot of time being extra careful to reduce waste.”

“Complaining about it is not going to help,” she snapped. “We have to use the hand we were dealt. Is that not what you always tell me? Or do you have some wonderful idea about how to get more materials?”

“Nope. I’ve got nothing.”

“Then be quiet or come up with another strategy. I would be happy to listen to any of your ideas and list off all the problems with them.”

I closed my mouth. She’d already listed all the flaws with my current plan the moment I came up with it. Even so, we had to try, since it was the best idea we had. At the very least, it had a higher chance of success than starting an armed revolt and hoping people would join in, and it definitely beat trying to assassinate the enemy’s leader.

…The main problem now is that we lack manpower and material.

I drew a map of the city in my head. As soon as the forces outside launched their attack, it was our job to start sabotaging from within. We needed to cause as much destruction as possible, and if we could create chaos simultaneously in multiple locations, that would be even better.

I had already decided what we were going to blow up. We would avoid residential areas and target their military strongholds, such as storage facilities and garrisons.

It probably wouldn’t take them long to figure out that what we were doing was nothing more than a distraction, but even then, they couldn’t ignore us. They’d have no choice but to send some of their troops to the targeted locations while we took advantage of the chaos and headed to the city gate to help our allies make it safely inside.

And to do all this, we were going to need sacred seal–engraved time bombs. Time bombs were a bit more involved than simple grenades, but it was either that, or we’d need a strategy involving a large number of disciplined soldiers with excellent timing. And as for the men at our disposal, well…

“Ahhh!” someone shouted from the neighboring room.

I wished these people could keep their voices down, just in case, but it seemed that was too much to ask.

“Ugh. Another damn crack!” cried another. “This isn’t working.”

“Yo, this is hot as hell. You used to work like this every day? I can’t take it anymore.”

A few members of the Resistance were making a fuss. One, who had once been a blacksmith, had agreed to forge some knives for me. I hadn’t exactly been expecting masterpieces, but things seemed to be going even worse than I’d imagined. As it turned out, the man had probably quit blacksmithing for a reason. He was constantly complaining about a lack of proper tools, and all he’d come up with so far was a series of disappointing failures.

“Master, I’m sorry!”

As if that wasn’t enough, I had to deal with people walking right into the room where I was working, without so much as a courtesy knock. They’d been barging in nonstop for ages, and for some reason, they kept calling me “Master.” Just who did they think I was? Some sort of martial arts teacher? It was extremely distracting.

“Old Man Ordo got completely hammered and fell asleep again!”

“…Who was hiding the alcohol? I thought it was all gone.”

“That dolt Herb. Apparently, he gets the shakes if he doesn’t drink, so he needed it.”

“This isn’t a game, dammit!” I yelled. The man hid behind the door, frightened, like he thought I’d start throwing things at him. “Ugh. Forget about Old Man Ordo. It’s not like he was doing anything productive anyway.”

“I guess you’re right. Back in the day, he used to be some incredible mercenary or adventurer or something. But he’s been like this since morning, saying there’s nothing for him to do without a sword.”

“Then go make him a sword. You used to be a blacksmith, right?”

“Heh-heh. I’ll see what I can do. I’m trying my best, I really am. But…”

“All you’ve gotta make is one damn sword! If you can’t do it, I’ll snap your bones and turn those into weapons!”

“G-got it!”

He rushed out the door and closed it behind him. I fought back a sigh and clicked my tongue instead. Frenci seemed to feel the same way I did.

“…Do you really think those lowlifes will be of any help?” she asked.

“I don’t, but we’ve got no other options.”

“One of them might betray us.”

“I get the feeling we can trust the former blacksmith. Apparently, he made a move on the original traitor’s wife, and he’ll be killed if he tries to surrender. It’s sad, but that actually makes him the easiest to trust.”

“Unless he’s lying, of course.”

“Sure. But you can’t start doubting everything. Besides, I’m not telling anyone the plan until right before we start.”

People who got the shakes without alcohol and old drunks would just be turned into food if they surrendered. The others were outcasts as well. Ironically, such people were the most trustworthy and useful types we could have asked for.

“What a mess this has become,” said Frenci. “Perhaps you are being punished for neglecting your duties.”

“I’m already being punished.” We were penal heroes. This was our punishment, and I suspected the gods hadn’t liked us much to begin with. “Sorry, Frenci. This is a terrible situation to be in. You must be pissed.”

“I am not mad at all.”

“Liar.” I’d noticed something about Frenci. Ever since we’d gotten trapped inside the city, she’d been constantly touching her hair. “You’re touching your hair again. You do that whenever you’re mad.”

“Huh? …You are mistaken. Why would you assume I am angry just because I am touching my hair? It makes no sense. You are less perceptive than moss growing on a rock. I am appalled.”

Frenci uttered all this in a single breath, yet more proof she was angry with me. I was sure of it now.

“If anything, I am enjoying this,” she said.

“Now, that’s a lie for sure. Look around you. We’re trapped inside a city ruled by the Demon Blight, and our only allies are Rhyno and a bunch of thugs. There’s almost no hope our plan will succeed.”

“No, I am enjoying myself. In fact, this is the most fun I have had in years.” Frenci pointed the brush she’d been using to mix paint at me. I wished she would put that down—there were some awfully dangerous chemicals in that stuff. But her eyes were dead serious. It was hard to read her expression, but I could tell from her gaze that she wasn’t lying. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Is this entire situation nothing but suffering for you? Or are you having a little fun?”

I gave this some thought. I couldn’t possibly say I was having fun. It was wrong for a soldier to enjoy his job.

“To tell the truth, Xylo, being together with you—”

“Aguh!”

A sudden scream cut her off, and the door flew open. Frenci furrowed her brow. I figured it was just some guys from the Resistance making another mess for me to clean up, but when I saw who was at the door, my jaw dropped.

Standing there was the last person I expected to see.

“…Ouch. You didn’t have to be so rough,” said a small man, groaning and clutching his back.

“Dotta?” I called out the intruder’s name, still taken aback. I could hardly comprehend what was happening. “What the hell are you doing?”

“More importantly, I would like to know why you are here,” said Frenci, as confused as I was.

“Hey, Xylo. Looks like you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of trouble. Me too. I was forced to rush straight here from the repair shop…” Dotta smiled weakly. He looked scared. “…After that, I was made to sneak into the city and meet up with you guys.”

“How the hell did you get inside?” I asked. “Every gate has been sealed off. Did you scale the walls or something?”

“S-scale the walls? Is that even possible?”

“Probably not…”

“That sounds way too hard… Anyway, some local military forces got into a scuffle with nearby faeries, and there were a ton of human corpses. I slipped in between some of them and let them cart me inside.”

What the hell? I thought. That was an option?

Wasn’t Dotta afraid a faerie would get hungry on the way back and start chowing down on the corpses? It sounded incredibly dangerous. Personally, I wouldn’t have risked it unless I had someone on the inside watching out for me.

“Actually…I have a sort of collaborator who’s really good at pretending to be a faerie,” Dotta continued. “She’s like a prison guard or something. Anyway, she helped me out.”

“I’m not your collaborator or a prison guard. I’m your adjutant.”

I heard a deep, controlled voice coming from somewhere outside the door. A woman emerged with smoky-red hair and a bandaged right arm. She looked vaguely familiar. Wasn’t that the woman who’d carried Dotta back during the battle at Tujin Tuga?

“You must learn to introduce your adjutant properly.” She glared down at Dotta. He was so frightened, he visibly flinched.

“Huh? Adjutant? Since when? I don’t remember hearing anything about that.”

“…Forget it,” the woman said sullenly. “I’ll introduce myself. My name is Trishil… My role is to supervise this man and provide him with guidance.”

The military had probably gotten fed up with Dotta’s sticky fingers and sent someone to keep an eye on him. In that case, she really was like a prison guard. Still, her dark gaze gave me pause, though I had no time to worry about stuff like that at the moment.

What mattered was that Dotta was here, and that would drastically increase our chances of finding supplies. He could help us scout and spy as well. With him, our options had expanded tenfold. But the most efficient way to use Dotta was…

“All right, Dotta,” I said. “Time to get to work.”

“Huh? But I just got here. More importantly, I have a message for you from our allies…”

“They can tell me whatever they have to say during the scheduled call. Right now, I need you to help gather supplies. Oil. Weapons. And the more blades, the better.”

I looked at the weapons I’d constructed so far. Though a few might be usable, quite a lot of them were basically garbage. I couldn’t test them out, and I didn’t want to just trust that they’d work. But with Dotta, we no longer had to rely on time bombs. We had better options now.

“Rejoice, Dotta. You’re going to be a star.”

“Yippie.”

Trishil’s mouth twisted aggressively, for some reason. “Now we’re talking. Give him something big.”

“Why are you encouraging him?!” Dotta cried. “Listen—!”

“We’ll head out after eating something,” I said. “Frenci, let’s use that jerky we’ve been saving. Now that Dotta’s here, we won’t need to worry about finding food for dinner.”

“Finally, some good news,” she replied. “Shall we use the cheese as well?”

“Hey!” Dotta yelped. “Is no one here going to listen to me?!”

According to Venetim, the people in charge were arguing over what strategy to use right up until the last moment.

There were two main problems. First, the capital was surrounded by walls. While there were underground passages and gates to the east, west, and south, they’d first have to decide which route to take. The north gate, designed as a means of escaping the castle, was heavily guarded and too narrow to accommodate a large army, so it was out of the running from the start.

The second problem was the Saint. There was disagreement over how to use her in the fight.

Fortunately for those of us on the inside, the nature of our sabotage mission meant we had ample discretion. As long as we aided our allies’ attack, we could choose what we did and how we accomplished it. Our only mandatory objective was to occupy one of the gates using the Sacred Key, Kaer Vourke, thus creating an opening for our allies to get inside.

But the gate they eventually chose—the south gate—posed something of a problem. Apparently, the newly appointed supreme commander intended to stage a head-on attack from the front. I took another look at the gate in question and found that the south gate, which was by far the biggest, was unsurprisingly also the best guarded. Storming this gate would be like rushing into the middle of an ambush. It was practically a suicide mission.

Personally, I thought the east gate was a better choice. There were fewer guards, and while they had a garrison to compensate, we were prepared to cause a commotion and distract the troops.

Venetim relayed my opinion to our allies on the outside, but the orders we got back ignored everything I’d said. We were told that they would “boldly storm the enemy from the front with a great force, strike fear into their hearts, and soothe the terrified citizens of the Second Capital.” Of course, there was always the possibility that Venetim hadn’t accurately conveyed my message. But even so, the whole plan sounded ridiculous. Could demon lords even feel fear?

As a result, I was forced to take a bold approach.

“We’re going to occupy the east gate. Meet us on Asgarsha Street,” I told Venetim. We were already in the middle of preparing a few disturbances around the Resistance’s new hideout in the eastern district, and we could improve our chances of survival if we utilized the mazelike back alleys and underground sewer passages as well.

Obviously, nowhere in the capital was safe, but I still had to do what I could to increase our chances of survival, even slightly. The members of the Resistance weren’t soldiers. They might be social outcasts just looking to save their own skins, but it would be wrong to purposely sacrifice them. That was how I felt, anyway, though I wasn’t going to tell anyone else. And when Rhyno was the first to agree to my plan, I felt even more hesitant to admit what I was thinking.

To be honest, it feels like we’re being baited into attacking the east gate.

The explosion at the south gate had only further convinced me. And yet we had no other choice. No matter how many traps awaited us at the east gate, it was still a better shot than the south or west gates. We simply needed to find the traps and deal with them as soon as possible. Either that, or sacrifice ourselves to demonstrate the danger. That was our duty as spies on the inside.

“Interesting. The east gate, huh?” muttered Venetim. He sounded troubled. “That’s going to be difficult. Very difficult. They’ve already decided on the overall objective, too.”

When it came to Venetim, “difficult” was code for “I don’t think it’s possible, but if I tell you that, you’re going to get mad at me and think I’m useless, so I’ll just say ‘difficult’ instead.” But situations like this were when Venetim shone the most.

“I mean, thanks to you, they have all the information they need on what’sgoing on inside the capital, right? I believe you confirmed that there are at least three demon lords, yes?”

He was right. We didn’t have any details on their supreme leader, Abaddon, but we knew that Sugaar, who was in charge of aerial combat, had a projectile attack that could track its target and explode. And as for Afanc, who was busy patrolling for escapees, we knew that he was a sluggish yet brutal demon lord with razor-sharp claws powerful enough to slice through buildings. I suspected there were one or two more still keeping out of sight.

“First, the Ninth Order and the goddess of poisons will be in charge of the underground passages, since they excel in narrow, closed spaces.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

The Ninth Order, led by Hord Clivios, was devastating in such environments, so I figured they’d be fine.

“…And the main troops, led by the Saint, will attack the enemy head-on from the south gate. That’s the plan.”

“Way too optimistic. Who came up with that?”

Concentrating our forces was fine. We had enough soldiers to occupy the underground passage as well, so both teams had favorable odds. Plus, if they used the whole force all at once, they had a good chance of breaking through even the south gate.

But at the cost of how many lives?

They were acting like soldiers grew on trees, and they were going to use up as many as necessary to achieve their goals. This strategy relied completely on brute force, and the longer it took, the more likely those inside the capital would become hostages. Mercenaries were a problem, too. They wouldn’t just flee the battle, they’d plunder the place first.

The best way would be to neutralize the enemy in one fell swoop.

I pictured the two men set to take command during the upcoming battle.

The captain of the Ninth Order, Hord Clivios, was an arrogant man who always wore a serious expression.

The captain of the Eighth Order, Adhiff Twevel, was famous for his cold, mocking smirk.

Could either of these men have come up with such a plan? I didn’t know Hord that well, but Adhiff and his army of shadows had managed impressively against the Demon Blight in the west. I had once fought alongside him, and his tactics, while not particularly clever or courageous, were always well-thought-out and well-prepared.

Would he really have approved such a sloppy strategy?

“Um… It was the supreme commander sent from Galtuile.”

It was just as I feared.

“Marcolas Esgein, the governor-general of the Northern Second Area Army… He’s a noble and a big investor in the Holy Knights’ entire operation, so he has a lot of sway…”

“Esgein? That asshole’s back?”

I clicked my tongue so loudly, even Venetim could probably hear it. This Esgein guy was a real pain.

Within Galtuile, there was an official position known as “governor-general of such-and-such area army,” right below commander-in-chief. It was more or less equivalent to a “general” in the old kingdom. There were seven or eight of them when I was a captain, probably more now. They oversaw the fighting in each area, and even when I was in the Holy Knights, Esgein was well known for having a good family name and not much else. It seemed he still hadn’t fallen from power.

His family provided a lot of the funding for the military, so it was hard for anyone to complain. But this was a guy of the worst type. Sometimes, you got investors who liked to make war into their own little production. They’d cast all the parts, write the script, and play the lead role in their own show. Only a few prodigies could pull something like that off, however. Maybe one person in a hundred years would have the talent.

And Marcolas Esgein truly believed he was one of those people.

“If we’re going to attack, it has to be from the east gate. Change the plan.”

“I wish I could, but it won’t be that easy…”

“If you can’t send the whole army, then just get the people from our unit. Send Patausche and Teoritta this way.” I was asking for the bare minimum. “Especially Patausche. I know she can pull it off.”

I was sure she’d be able to break through and make it here. Patausche Kivia knew how to handle cavalrymen, and back during the battle at Tujin Tuga, she’d proved that she could break through the enemy’s defenses countless times in order to help her men regroup. What we needed right now was a reliable soldier we could count on to turn things around when we were at a disadvantage.

“With them, we’ll have a chance. Maybe… If we’re lucky.”

“Uh… And how do you expect me to pull off the impossible?”

“Talk to Adhiff. He’s the kind of guy that might understand if you explain things to him and he’s in a good mood.”

“Um… Is it just me, or was your phrasing just now a little ambiguous?”

“Just shut up and do it. And tell them not to forget Rhyno’s armor when they come. All right, I’m counting on you.”

“Ah! Xylo, I…”

Venetim apparently had more to say, but I wasn’t interested, so I cut off the call and turned to Rhyno and Dotta.

“Venetim said, ‘Everything’s going smoothly, so let’s do this, guys!’ His words, not mine.”

“He clearly didn’t say that!” shrieked Dotta.

We’d worked him to the bone over the past two days, and he was sickly pale and completely exhausted. We’d finally reached a point where we could take a break a little earlier, and we’d eaten some half-decent porridge and pork grilled with herbs.

“The day Venetim says something like that is the day I stop trusting him, and the fact that you said it makes me even more skeptical! That’s two points of suspicion.”

“Two suspicious things cancel each other out, so you oughtta trust me.”

“Well, I don’t!” Dotta’s face twisted in despair. “Why did this have to happen to me…? I just got back from the repair shop! I’m still recovering!”

“I’m so glad to see you doing well, Comrade Dotta,” said Rhyno, missing our teammate’s point entirely. Wearing his usual fishy smirk, he continued to drink a glass of warm wine with dried fruit thrown in it. He never seemed to get drunk, no matter how much he drank, and he was throwing it back like it was water. “Anyway, you found yourself quite an interesting soldier to be your adjutant. What was her name again?”

“Trishil… Oh, and that’s just what she said, so we’re straight. Personally, I have no idea who she is or what’s going on,” he said desperately.

Fortunately, Trishil was out using the underground bathing facility with Frenci and wasn’t here. One of the good things about the capital was that it had access to clean water. Incidentally, Trishil had taken a liking to Frenci. Maybe they had similar personalities.

“Ah, yes. Trishil,” muttered Rhyno. He was staring into the distance, as if something was on his mind. “Her right arm intrigues me. It doesn’t appear to be human.”

“Oh yeah. Uh… She apparently got a faerie’s arm transplanted onto her body. It helps her blend in with them and go undetected. That’s how we got inside.”

“Huh?” I said loudly, unable to suppress my surprise. “The hell? You can transplant faeries’ arms onto humans?”

“Apparently,” said Dotta. “She said her right arm is stronger now, too.”

“And you just believed her?! Be more skeptical!”

“It isn’t impossible, Comrade Xylo,” said Rhyno. He was irritatingly calm. “Faeries were originally living creatures corrupted by the Demon Blight. They have the ability to devour other creatures and assimilate them as well. Sometimes, however, a living creature’s power to resist—their life force, I suppose you could call it—or perhaps their soul? Anyway, that power fights back, stopping them from completely assimilating.”

“You sure know a lot. Did you figure all this out from your experiments on faerie corpses?”

“Yes, basically.”

“Really…?” asked Dotta, his tone reserved. “Hey, uh… Rhyno… I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while now, but… Aren’t some of the corpses you bring back human?”

“You must be imagining things. What need would I have for a human corpse?”

“Well, when you put it that way, I have no idea… Maybe you could dissect them? Or eat them…?”

“Why would I do that?”

“I—I don’t know. It just seems like something you’d do.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Oh, uh… Just forget about it…”

“Ha-ha-ha! You are so funny, Comrade Dotta, with your novel ideas and views of the world. They’re so interesting to listen to.”

Rhyno laughed pleasantly, and Dotta shut his mouth. I couldn’t blame him, and it was probably for the best, too. No good would come from learning any more about Rhyno’s sick habits. There was something about him that made a person want to give him and his business a wide berth. But none of that really mattered anyway. He could save human corpses to snack on and dissect faerie corpses as much as he pleased for all I cared. You couldn’t trust the guy, but he was the best artilleryman I knew. No one else in the world could do what he did.

“Rhyno, Venetim’s gonna try to pull a few strings to have them attack the east gate instead. At the very least, they’ll bring your cannon armor with them, so get ready to work.”

“I will do my best. I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself in front of Comrade Xylo or Comrade Dotta, after all.”

“I’d rather not work if I don’t have to…,” muttered Dotta.

“Listen, we have one objective,” I said, ignoring Dotta and pointing at a single spot on the map. Beneath my finger was the castle in the north of the capital. “To kill their leader, Abaddon. That’s how we’re going to end this.”

“Yes… Yes, how wonderful…” I noticed Rhyno licking his lips. “I will follow you until the end, Comrade Xylo, even if it kills me. It is an honor to fight by your side.”

“Gross!” Dotta groaned. I couldn’t agree more.

The tent was in even more of a mess than Venetim had imagined—unfit for someone with the title “Captain of the Eighth Order.”

Initially, he’d imagined Adhiff Twevel was a well-prepared, even elegant man. And so when he saw the captain’s private tent, he was taken aback. Unidentifiable junk was lying all over, drawers were half-opened, and clothes were balled up on the floor. That said, Venetim suspected the clutter had something to do with the man’s goddess, Kelflora.

When Venetim stepped inside the tent, he found her doing an archaic puzzle made of thick, interlocking wire. Rather than playing with a toy, she had the air of someone in the middle of an intense battle.

“I have something I would like to discuss,” he said.

Adhiff told the goddess to go play outside. But rather than an order, it sounded like a gentle suggestion from an older relative. Kelflora quietly nodded, grabbed a handful of dried sweets from out of a half-opened drawer, then exited the tent. If you ignored her refined features and transparent, icy expression, you could easily have mistaken her for a child.

“…All right. Let me get this straight,” said Adhiff, leaning back. He had heard Venetim’s request and was now looking up at him from a foldable chair. There was a mocking contempt in his eyes, or else that was just the face he was born with. “You object to the plan that Marcolas Esgein, the governor-general, sent straight from Galtuile, has proposed, and you want us to take the advice of the penal hero unit and change our objectives at the last minute?” He sounded almost amused. “It takes guts to come in here and say something like that.”

He’s right about that, thought Venetim, but he didn’t have any other choice. There were only three people involved in the overall plan to reclaim Zeyllent: Marcolas Esgein, the governor-general of the Northern Second Area Army; Adhiff Twevel, captain of the Eighth Order of the Holy Knights; and Hord Clivios, captain of the Ninth Order of the Holy Knights.

Out of these three, Venetim would never be allowed to speak with Marcolas. He’d be sent away at the door and might even be reprimanded. Hord Clivios would be easier, and he even seemed to respect the penal heroes in his own way. However, that respect was limited to the battlefield, and he was far too serious to hear Venetim out.

In the end, there was only one person Venetim could turn to: Adhiff Twevel.

Plus, according to Xylo, he was the kind of guy that might understand if you explained things to him and he was in a good mood. Personally, Venetim wished Xylo would stop making him work with such ambiguous information, but when it came down to it, he was desperate. He didn’t want to die, and if Xylo said they should attack from the east gate, he was probably right.

“…We need to concentrate our forces and attack the east gate. After deploying a separate force for the siege, of course,” Venetim said, repeating his request. “It would be foolish to attack from the south gate. The projected casualties are far too great, and it would put us at a disadvantage in future battles. We must rethink our strategy, because…”

Venetim inhaled, trying to think of the best way to deliver his message to someone like Adhiff. He considered the man’s tone and subtle expressions. The truth wasn’t important. All Venetim needed to do was win over whoever he was talking to.

“To be entirely honest, I believe Governor-General Marcolas Esgein’s strategy is flawed. There’s no other way to put it.” Even Venetim knew he was being harsh, but he had to keep going. He needed to be even more provocative. “And so I would like you to consider the penal hero unit’s advice. We need your help to prevent mankind from making a fatal mistake. Yes, we are hoping to use you…because we don’t want to die, either.”

Adhiff’s expression showed almost no change. Nevertheless, Venetim felt the man would appreciate such self-deprecating humor. He usually took a cynical tone, and Venetim suspected he was quite self-aware.

“…Being honest is a good trait. Of course, there is a time and place for everything.” Adhiff sipped at his tea. The gesture was elegant and befitting of a noble. “Allow me to be honest with you as well. I completely agree with your opinion. The current plan will result in far too many casualties. That said, I’m not interested in putting my job at risk, either.”

Venetim suddenly felt as though he were being tested.

“This is the head of the Esgein family we’re talking about, “Adhiff continued. “Opposing him could greatly disadvantage me politically and in future battles. He could come up with any number of reasons to cut the Eighth Order’s funding as well.”

This made sense to Venetim. It wasn’t simply a matter of losing face. Someone in Adhiff Twevel’s position objecting to Marcolas’s decisions could be viewed as an attack against the Esgein family itself.

“I am the captain of an order of the Holy Knights, and I have a duty to protect Kelflora and my soldiers. In fact, I consider that my most important duty, and I don’t wish to threaten their livelihoods by angering the Esgeins.” Adhiff looked up at Venetim once more. “So, Captain Venetim, are you claiming there is an advantage to helping you that would outweigh the risks? Or do you have some scheme to satisfy the Esgein family that this is not an attack?”

“Of course.” Venetim replied at once—something he instantly regretted. There was nothing he could do about it now, though. The words had slipped right off his tongue, binding him to his promise. Lying came naturally to him, but it also tended to leave him feeling ill.

Adhiff narrowed his gaze. He was almost smiling. “I cannot imagine what advantage there would be to helping someone put in the penal hero unit for fraud.”

“…Yes, I was imprisoned for fraud, but swindling people is very difficult without a little capital. Before he can do anything else, a con man needs to raise money.” Venetim could feel his throat drying out as he spoke. If only he had a glass of water. Even Adhiff’s tea would be better than nothing. “Fortunately, I have funds that I can use freely, which I secured in the past.”

“Are you suggesting that you have a hidden fortune? Something akin to buried gold? Well, now I have completely lost interest. Did you truly believe you could fool me with such groundless claims? I’m insulted.”

“It’s not buried treasure. It’s in the Verkle Development Corporation’s vault.”

Venetim then rolled his left sleeve all the way up his forearm.

On his skin was a tattoo consisting of four distinct lines. Adhiff closed one eye and observed this carefully.

“Verkle Corp is an extremely enthusiastic organization when it comes to finding talent. They often adopt promising children, and when one of those children becomes skilled enough to stand on their own two feet, they provide funding in the form of a loan. They even pay in gold coins—the currency of the old kingdom. Furthermore, the amount is determined by how many lines the child has.”

The tattoo was proof of how much money was borrowed, and someone with four marks was extremely rare. They would have enough money to immediately hire people and start a large business.

“I still have the capital, and Verkle Corp is currently managing it for me. Although my personal fortune was confiscated when I was imprisoned, they weren’t able to touch the money in the corporation’s vault.”

“Legally, that should have been confiscated as well,” said Adhiff.

“Verkle Corp would never allow that. And I still have the right to that money.”

“Even though you’re a criminal?”

“Even though I’m a criminal. That’s the kind of organization Verkle Corp is. Besides…” Venetim made sure his next words sounded as natural as possible. “I wasn’t adopted by the organization. I’m the biological son of the president… If you accept our request, then I can guarantee political and economic support from Verkle Corp.”

Silence filled the tent for several seconds. Adhiff had once again closed one eye. Perhaps it was a habit of his whenever he was deep in thought. Almost a minute went by before he spoke again.

“…Your last name doesn’t match, though. It’s Leopool.”

“Indeed. That’s what it says on my official family register anyway.” Family registers were easy to fake. In fact, for a time, Venetim had held three different family registers at once. “Please feel free to look into it yourself. I have told you nothing but the truth.”

I didn’t need to be told to know when the attack began. I could tell by the sound of explosions and the sight of rising smoke outside the south gate.

It began in the evening; we were waiting atop the roofs of the wooden houses in the Ash Tray. Below us, Asgarsha Street ran straight to the east gate. As I watched faeries and human soldiers pass by beneath us, I slammed my fist into the roof below me, then closed my eyes and listened to the echoes.

I could feel the topography of the surrounding area along with every living thing moving through it. By the gate, there were around a hundred enemies, including small faeries, but on the city walls, there were over a thousand. I figured this was probably standard formation for defending the gate, which opened and closed using sacred seal technology. The soldiers gathered inside the gate were probably just reserves. The battle would open with the larger force atop the city walls picking off the enemy and defending against their approach.

In other words, now was the time for us to strike.

Looks like we’re up.

It was a clear night without a cloud in the sky. As the white moon illuminated the ground below, I looked back at Rhyno. “It’s time. Let’s destroy the gate from the inside.”

“Our first objective is to meet up with our comrades in the hero unit, yes?”

“Exactly.”

Rhyno had his spear in hand, ready for battle. Frenci, her curved blades already unsheathed, looked blankly toward the north. “…I wonder if Dotta will be able to pull it off.”

“You don’t need to worry about him,” I said.

I wasn’t the least bit concerned. The enemy wouldn’t be expecting Dotta, so there was no way they could prevent him from sneaking inside. Besides, this was the same idiot who had stolen a goddess and made a mockery of the Thirteenth Order’s security.

“You really trust him,” said Frenci. “Rather than failing, I’m more worried he’ll simply run away.”

“Actually, that kind of worries me, too.”

“But I suppose Trishil is there to keep an eye on him, so it should be fine.”

“Oh yeah…his ‘adjutant,’ right?”

After a little prying, I’d learned she was a mercenary hired by the military. She even had a sacred seal talisman to prove it. From what I could tell, she appeared to be working for an order of the Holy Knights, and I thought assigning someone to watch Dotta was a pretty good idea. It’d be nice if this prevented him from stealing anything that might get us in trouble, but there was something about Trishil that interested me even more.

“Frenci, you and she seem to really get along. What’s up with that?”

“We bonded over discussing what it feels like to supervise someone with numerous flaws.”

“…Oh.”

Asking any more seemed like a waste of time. I’d probably just wind up listening to a never-ending list of complaints about me and Dotta.

After giving up on prying, I turned to the others: the leftovers from the Resistance. There were twenty-four of them—so few I wanted to cry. Their faces clouded with anxiety, fear, and a hint of excitement. The only exceptions were the guy who drank too much booze before we left and Old Man Ordo, who looked like he was sleeping. He probably was.

“You lowlifes ready?” I asked.

“I guess so, Master,” replied Madritz.

Even he was calling me that now. I wished they’d all stop.

I scowled and roared back, “What do you mean you ‘guess’? You better be readier than you’ve ever been in your life!”

“Ah! Uh… I-I’ve never been readier…!”

“What about the rest of you?”

Their timing was all over the place, but each gave a reply that more or less meant “yes.” This was pretty much what I’d expected. After all, these weren’t soldiers. But as long as they could pretend, that would have to be enough.

As I inwardly grimaced, a massive fire started up in the north. There was no explosion. The sacred seals we’d made were only meant to start fires, not to explode. Dotta and Trishil’s mission was to use the flames with a little oil and set warehouses full of supplies and military posts on fire. A brilliant distraction.

“He really did it,” muttered Frenci, surprised.

“Yep.”

Sending Dotta around to set fires was a far more reliable strategy than using time bombs. It wasn’t exactly efficient, but it would force the enemy to split their forces to deal with the disturbance.

I slammed my fist into the rooftop again. We could ignore the enemies on top of the city walls. The guards inside the gate, however, had begun to move toward the fires. A few faeries had gotten excited and left their posts as well, prompting even more human soldiers to expend energy restraining them.

I counted the remaining enemies on the ground still ready to fight. There were fewer than sixty.

“Let’s move out,” I said quietly, but still loudly enough for everyone to hear. A pack of faeries was passing by directly below us: bogies and scale-covered humanoid faeries called dunnies acting as their tamers. These were nimbler than knockers, whose bodies were eroded by minerals, but they lacked their high defense.

“Fire!”

The Resistance members obeyed, shooting their arrows in unison. It was the best I could’ve hoped for from a group of adventurers unused to lightning staffs and unreliable in close combat. A few arrows even hit their targets.

Rhyno, Frenci, and I lunged off the rooftop the instant they fired, and the result couldn’t have been more perfect. Rhyno skewered a bogie with his spear, while Frenci’s curved blades decapitated one of the dunnies. I did my part as well, swinging my hatchet-like short sword straight across another dunnie’s chest. Then I spun around and kicked off a charging bogie, activating my flight seal and shattering its skull as I propelled myself through the air.

How many left?

When I looked back in search of my next target, something caught me off guard. It was Old Man Ordo. Apparently, he’d found a sword somewhere and jumped down after us. He’d just sliced a dunnie’s arm and head clean off.

“Hey! Who gave Old Man Ordo a sword?!” I yelled. “He just jumped off the rooftop!”

The Resistance was making a fuss up above, but Old Man Ordo paid this no mind and kept swinging his blade like he didn’t have a care in the world. This time, he sliced a bogie in two.

“That old man sure knows how to fight,” said Rhyno, full of praise.

It was too late to stop him, so I decided to just let him do his thing. I wasn’t thrilled about the insubordination, but it wasn’t anything new.

I tapped the ground with my right fist and activated my probe seal, Loradd. This gave me a good idea of our surroundings for two hundred steps in all directions. I wanted to know how many enemies there were and which ones to prioritize. I quickly made my decision.

“We’re going to break down the east gate! Back us up!” I shouted to those still on the roof.

With that, I sprinted down Asgarsha Street. We had set up collapsible ladders to make it easier to travel across the rooftops in the Ash Tray along our path, and it was the Resistance’s job to back us up from above as we fought on the ground. However, the enemy was really putting up a fight. I threw one of my precious knives and managed to blow up a few faeries, but it wasn’t enough to get us to the east gate. A massive enemy stood in our way, though I’d seen it coming, thanks to Loradd.

“A troll,” muttered Frenci, lowering her stance.

The troll was a bipedal faerie as tall as the merchant shops lining the street. In its hand, I saw what I could only describe as a club made of wood and rock, though calling this crude weapon a club might have been giving it too much credit. And standing by the troll’s side were a few bogies, shaking with excitement.

But if we could get through this, we were home free. Nothing else stood between us and the east gate.

“Rhyno, I want you and Old Man Ordo to take out the bogies by its feet,” I said. “There are seven in total.”

“It would be my pleasure. I’m so happy that you trust me.”

It was during times like this that Rhyno’s creepy nature actually made him seem somewhat reliable.

Everything after that happened in the blink of an eye. As Rhyno skewered bogies and Old Man Ordo swung his sword, I kicked off the ground, leaped horizontally onto the wall of a large shop, and raced toward the troll’s head. Dodging its wild swing was almost too easy, though it destroyed the shop’s wall.

I wasn’t going to waste one of my knives, either. Instead, I placed my left hand ever so softly against the side of the troll’s head. I didn’t need to hit it. I simply set my palm against its skin, and its eyes immediately rolled back. This was another way to use Loradd. The developer of the seal probably never imagined its vibrations being used to rattle the inside of faeries’ skulls, but giving opponents a concussion was a great alternative to using Zatte Finde when it was inconvenient, such as in close combat or during covert operations.

The colossal troll wobbled and then collapsed to its knees as Frenci’s blades, gleaming white and sparking, sliced deeply into its Achilles tendon. Once the troll fell flat onto its face, Frenci glanced back, and our eyes met.

“I’m impressed,” I said.

“This is nothing. I am a lady of the Mastibolt family, after all,” she said, smiling slightly.

After that, we were able to reach the east gate. I used one hand to take out the Sacred Key, Kaer Vourke. I already knew how to use it. I shoved it into the hole right in the center of the sacred seal engraved in the gate. All that was left was to say the magic words. The sound-based authentication mechanism activated with a faint glimmer.

“…Requesting crest activation. Please execute the contract. The embodiment of radiance, the sculpted sacrament. I am…”

From what I was told, these were set phrases used in ancient times, though not a single member of the royal family still understood what any of it meant. I figured it didn’t mean anything. That was the way secret codes worked, after all.

“…I am the successor of Vladd. The true king has returned.”

That was the password to activate the seal. The east gate was suddenly swallowed in a radiant light as intricate treelike seals glowed and flashed and the gate began to creak. The sound grew louder as the gate slowly opened.

“We did it!” Madritz yelled in delight. “We really did it! Your secret weapon really worked, Master! Everyone’s going to be okay now!”

The other adventurers were visibly relieved as well. Around 80 percent of the job was done. All that was left was to wait for the others to storm the city…

But something didn’t feel right. The gate was taking far too long to open. In fact, it looked like it had stopped moving altogether while the creaking only grew louder and louder. What was going on?

“Xylo, do you see that?”

All of a sudden, Frenci was standing behind me, pointing up at the device used to open and close the gate. It was clearly broken beyond repair. Everything made sense now. So this was why they were baiting us to attack from the east gate.

“The mechanism to open the gate is broken,” she continued. “It seems they anticipated our actions and took the initiative!”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

This was bad. Alarm bells were sounding in the back of my mind. I turned to shout to the members of the Resistance.

That was when I saw her. There was a woman on the rooftop. She looked like a doll in the fading sunset. Jet-black hair hung over her expressionless face. She looked as if she’d never felt a single emotion in her life. What stood out even more, however, were the horns on her head and the black wings growing out of her back. She clearly wasn’t human.

“So destroying that device and waiting at the gate actually worked,” she muttered coldly. Her voice was flat but carried well. “That human was right.”

A chill ran through me, and I knew right away it wasn’t just the winter cold. The air around us was freezing, penetrating the pores of my skin. I could see white frost spreading out over the shop’s rooftop at her feet. One of the members of the Resistance nearer to her screamed and clutched his throat, then dropped to his knees.

A demon lord…! Is that its main body?

I clicked my tongue. She could speak, and from how she was consciously lowering the surrounding temperature, it was obvious she was no normal faerie. She’d been sent here for a reason. It seemed a real pain in the ass had joined the enemy.

“Everyone, spread out!” I shouted. “Get as far back as you can!”

Was I quick enough? The air kept getting colder. I had to take this thing out, no matter what. I couldn’t expect any decent backup, either. We had no idea what we were up against. Did we even stand a chance?

“Xylo.” Frenci took a few steps toward me, her breath white as she whispered, “You’re a mess. I have never seen a more unsightly expression in my life.”

“This is how I always look.”

“I am glad to see you are still your usual self. I’ll say this now. If something happens, I will make sure you get out alive. I am prepared to—”

“Wait. Stop right there,” said the demon lord. “What is this? What are you?”

She’d interrupted Frenci, seemingly caught off guard. It was only a subtle twitch of the eyebrow, but it was the first time her doll-like face had showed any change.

“You…” She was looking behind me. Was she speaking to Rhyno? “…Are you really human? There is something strange about your body. Who are you?”

“Who am I?” said Rhyno. “Why, I’m an ally of mankind.”

He swung his spear in a wide arc while hopping nimbly, as though dancing. He looked truly happy. Disgusting, I thought as his spear pierced the night sky and soared toward the heavens.

The attack began right at dusk.

The east gate had opened only slightly before stopping, but there was no time to wait for word from Xylo.

Command concluded that the black ops unit had failed due to unforeseen enemy interference and quickly moved on to a new strategy.

Unbelievable…

Venetim gazed up at the walls of the Second Capital. They had to be ten times as tall as he was, and they weren’t just made of stone. Inside was a framework of steel bars, and sacred seals had been used to increase their defense even further.

It was no surprise the Federated Kingdom’s forces were having so much trouble knocking them down. After eliminating the faeries outside the capital, numerous siege weapons were lined up at the wall, and each attack made a horribly loud sound. Some weapons used a massive log to slam into their target, while others used colossal sacred seal–engraved boulders. Venetim had never seen either before.

Humans had set up the equipment, but soon humanoid shadows joined them, as if from nowhere, and began backing them up. The Eighth Order’s goddess had summoned them, and each held a shield as they ran around defending against strikes from the city walls. Sometimes, they used their own bodies to block attacks.

Even Venetim could tell this was a powerful unit. The Eighth Order was said to be skilled at fighting alongside these shadow warriors. Some of the shadows were even larger than an adult human and could help out with physical labor.

“Man, this is incredible,” said Tsav, yawning. “Looks like they don’t even need our help, huh? Think I could take a nap? I get so bored when there’s nothing to do. They’re saying the others failed, but it’s my bro Xylo we’re talkin’ about. I’m sure the gate’ll be open before long. Plus, we’ve got Jayce handling things in the sky, so that’ll be finished soon, too. Then, once the gate opens, Patausche’s gonna rush in with her squad, and it’ll all be over! Today’s basically a day off for us.”

“Don’t talk such drivel, you imbecile.” As expected, Norgalle was furious. He grabbed Tsav by the nape of his neck and stood him up straight. “They are taking much too long to break down those walls. Use my sacred seals and blow up the gate! That will be far quicker.”

He had been saying this the whole time. Apparently, he’d created a new sacred seal with explosive power beyond anything they’d seen before.

“My loyal subjects are trembling in fear inside the Second Capital,” he continued. “They are waiting for my return! Yes, I am sure they long to see my face.”

“I—I don’t know about that…”

“Are you claiming my people won’t be excited to see their king?!”

“N-no, that’s… Uh… That’s not what I’m saying at all. I just…”

Tsav glanced at Venetim, looking for help. Venetim turned away, uninterested. Just then, the sound of a horn pierced the air, followed by a shout.

“It’s the Saint! The Saint is here to join us in battle!”

Yurisa Kidafreny took a step out from the line of soldiers. She wasn’t alone, of course. Shadows stood to either side, their shields up to defend her, but the way she walked and stood were still very saintlike. She looked straight up at the city wall, then extended her right hand into the air.

A flash of light was followed by a dry pop, and just as her crimson hair began to spark, a large staircase suddenly appeared before her, as if it had always been there. It led straight up the wall, sending the guards above into a panic.

“Now, my knights!” Her voice carried as if amplified by a sacred seal, striking awe into her listeners. “My miracle has laid out a path to victory. The time has come to march into the Second Capital together and save our fellow humans!”

Voices rose up from the army, and it was hard to differentiate between cheers and battle cries.

Venetim thought this might be the first time he’d heard the Saint speak. But something about her voice bothered him. Behind the volume, he sensed a twinge of fear, or perhaps…

“Whoaaa. That was crazy,” said Tsav. “So this is what li’l Yurisa can do? Incredible. I mean, she looks so ordinary, right? We’ll have no problem getting inside now!”

“Yes, she did an impressive job creating a path for my return,” said Norgalle.

“Y-yes,” Venetim added tensely. He was suddenly anxious. After all, this meant…

“Penal Hero Unit 9004, it is time for you all to join the Saint,” ordered a voice through the sacred seal on their necks. It was the captain of the Ninth Order, Adhiff Twevel. “You are to lead us into the capital while protecting her.”

I knew this was coming, thought Venetim as he exchanged a glance with Tsav. The latter laughed easily as Norgalle lifted his massive lightning staff then shoved it into the ground.

“Move out! It is time for us to make our triumphant return!” he shouted. His eyes were already locked on the royal castle in the distance. “It is time to free my loyal subjects! General Tatsuya, annihilate all enemies who stand in my way! We must meet up with Commander-in-Chief Xylo and eliminate the Demon Blight!”

Rhyno’s spear pierced the frigid night air and headed straight for the female demon lord.

She leaped swiftly away to a neighboring rooftop. She was nimble and moved with clear intention. She must have seen me earlier when I threw one of my exploding knives and assumed that Rhyno’s spear was similar. She seemed to be trying to escape the blast radius… But that was all part of our plan.

“You’ve got the wrong idea,” said Rhyno.

His spear sparked and changed course midair, tracking the girl in black. It was the same type of javelin that dragon knights used, with the tracking seal Vaunir. It was developed to be a projectile and essentially disposable, but that allowed it superior homing abilities and greater destructive power.

And now it was after the female demon lord.

“Hff.”

She exhaled, allowing a puff of white breath to escape her throat. A sharp, heavy sound followed as white claws extended from the fingers of her left hand and sliced through the incoming javelin. Despite this, the impact threw her off-balance, and she stumbled. Using this momentum, she leaped down from the building.

“Fire! Hit her!” I shouted.

Two or three adventurers responded, and a few arrows shot through the air. I didn’t expect much, and the demon lord easily evaded the attacks with minimal movement. But that was more than enough. We just needed to keep her off-balance until Frenci and I closed in.

“Frenci, I’ll strike from above.”

“Very well.”

After deciding on a strategy, I rushed forward. Freezing air enveloped my body. I could feel it seeping into my skin. Lowering the surrounding temperature must have been one of this demon lord’s abilities.

I need to end this quickly.

I leaped into the air and threw a knife with as much force as possible, while Frenci swept her blades toward the enemy’s feet. The demon lord had no trouble dealing with our attacks. She swung her left hand and knocked away my knife with her claws as she jumped to dodge Frenci’s swords. She must have seen Frenci use lightning to knock down the troll. She was learning.

Plus, the cold air was making it difficult for us to move, while it appeared not to affect her at all. Isn’t that a little unfair? I wanted this to be a quick battle, but it looked like close-range combat would be far too risky.

“Don’t blink, Frenci. You won’t be able to open your eyes again.”

“Roger.”

Frenci tried to follow up with another attack, but she coughed and wound up staggering. The air was so cold, it was freezing the membranes in our throats. It didn’t help that the ground was now wet, too. Did a water pipe burst? Did she do this?

When I landed, I noticed the heels of my boots sticking to the ground.

This isn’t good.

The demon lord swung her right arm next, sprouting white claws on that hand as well. Was that ice? I had to stop her attack.

Think fast. I could use Zatte Finde to disrupt— No, that won’t work.

In the past, I’d fought in the north, where it was much colder than here. I could still remember when one soldier carelessly touched frozen metal with his bare skin, and it had peeled right off. In other words, Zatte Finde would be far too dangerous, since I would need to touch the metal to infuse it with my sacred seal. It was time for a change of strategy. I used Sakara to kick off the ground as hard as I could, shattering the pavement and pelting the demon lord with gravel.

“Tch.”

I saw another rare change of expression: Her cheek twitched. Still, she easily blocked the gravel with her ice claws. Was she going to try to lunge forward? I was prepared for that.

“Attack!”

A black shadow flapped its wings and shot out of my breast pocket. As it turned out, keeping Kelflora’s little bird there was a good idea. It raced straight forward, slicing the demon lord’s forehead open and sending blood trickling into her right eye.

That blood should freeze you, too!

But just as I was sure I’d managed to block her vision, the cold air warmed a bit. Dammit. It looked like she could rapidly make fine adjustments to the temperature. The shadow circled the air briefly before returning to my shoulder.

“What a bunch of eyesores,” muttered the girl as she leaped away. “How many more little tricks do you have up your sleeve? That man was right. It isn’t smart to get too close.”

She put some distance between us, and it appeared she intended to keep it.

This puts us at a disadvantage. It looks like she’s given up on aggressive pursuit, and that means she plans on dragging this fight out as long as possible.

“Xylo, widen the distance. At this rate, we—”

Frenci suddenly had another coughing fit, then regripped her curved swords. The biting cold was numbing her fingers, and I wasn’t doing much better. I wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer. I had to come up with something fast.

“I will not allow you to get in Lord Abaddon’s way,” muttered the woman, before she lunged at me. The painfully cold air became a gale that seemed to roll against me in waves. “This capital already belongs to us.”

She swung her white, icy claws, and I moved to block them. Frenci yelled something, but I figured she was just insulting me. My blade was about to lock with the enemy’s. With a tight grip on my weapon, I readied myself to deflect her claws and counter.

But the instant that thought crossed my mind, a massive shadow slipped in between us. It was Rhyno. With the speed of a savage beast, unbelievable for a man of his size, he rammed into the woman in black, then pushed her all the way into the wall of a building, his enormous right hand clenching her throat. It was a disturbing sight—a colossal man was squeezing the life out of a delicate woman.

Rhyno seemed unaffected by the cold, even this close-up. What’s more, her white, icy claws were stuck deep into his sides.

“I have a question for you,” he muttered. He wore a relaxed, gentle smile. It was as though he felt no pain at all. “Tell me your name. I wonder what name you were given?”

“You…!” I had no idea what Rhyno was talking about, but the woman was clearly shaken. Her once perfectly blank expression had twisted. “How are you still moving? No… That body…”

That was when he appeared.

“That’s enough, Anise. Fall back,” came a hoarse voice from the rooftop.

So her name was “Anise.” But more importantly, why did that voice sound familiar?

“That’s the unit,” the man continued. “Tovitz said we won’t be able to defeat them yet.”

“Rhyno, get back!” I shouted.

Though I had no idea what was going on, I knew something bad was about to happen.

But I was too late. A white mist shot into the air by Anise’s and Rhyno’s sides. Was there a water pipe nearby? Did she somehow manage to break it? In mere moments, Anise and Rhyno were completely concealed within the mist. I was briefly taken aback, but I soon realized it was just ice fog from a broken pipe. Anise must have frozen it.

Immediately, dark crimson blades came crashing down from above, slicing through the mist four or five times. I didn’t even have a moment to wonder if Rhyno had managed to dodge.

I had seen an attack like this before: coagulated blood.

“It’s him…!” I shouted. Atop the roof stood a gloomy man with an awfully hunched posture. “Boojum! How the hell are you still alive?!”

I unsheathed a knife and threw it with all my strength, but Boojum simply swung his arm down in silence, creating a crimson shield to block the explosion. Crimson blades continued to rain down from above, destroying water pipes and creating even more ice fog.

Hord Clivios of the Ninth Order had finally realized what was bothering him.

However, it was too late. They were far too deep underground and already in the middle of combat. He had no choice but to focus on the faeries in front of him, creatures born from minerals and plants, both with a resistance to poison. He should have noticed this sooner.

The enemy must have known his order was coming. There was no other way to explain this.

“Pelmerry.” His voice was muffled by his mask as he called out to his goddess. “It appears we ran right into an ambush. Switch to corrosive poison. I suspect most of the faeries here will be resistant to neurotoxins. Bring out White Number Three.”

Hord wiped his sword with a cloth while holding the blade before Pelmerry.

“First, I need enough for twenty people,” he said. “We’ll use that to organize a shock squad. Can you do it?”

“Yes… I can do it.” Pelmerry was already touching Hord’s sword, her fingertips sparking as she summoned poison to coat the blade. “Hord. The ambush… How…? What is going on?”

“They understood how your ability worked and gathered enough forces resistant to poison to fight back. This is going to be a difficult battle, so stay close behind me.”

“They saw right through our plan… This will be difficult…which means…” The goddess smiled—an expression Hord always found dark and somewhat wild. “Once we make it out of here…will you praise me even more than usual?”

“Noted. As long as I may use my discretion.”

“…I would really like…a new hair band, too…if that’s okay.”

“Noted. I will apply for one.”

“…Hooray.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Hord saw Pelmerry clench her fists. His goddess was much more cheerful than her demeanor implied, and she loved to collect various objects.

A hair band, huh? Piece of cake.

If that was all it took to make Pelmerry happy, then he would make sure to get it for her. She would have to keep fighting, perhaps even after the Fourth War of Subjugation came to an end. Many years in the future, her struggle would start again.

But for now…

Hord focused on the battle before them. Perhaps he should gather his men and keep everyone close. Letting them spread out could leave them vulnerable to being picked off one by one. They had to be careful.

But the most difficult fight would be the one fought above, on the ground. The demon lords were probably avoiding the goddess of poisons.

At that point, Hord thought of two people in particular: Adhiff Twevel and Xylo Forbartz. Both Adhiff’s derisive smirk and Xylo’s joking were like torture for Hord, and the two of them had a bad habit of bringing a pointless sense of humor to the battlefield.

I have to get us out of here as soon as possible and shut their foolish mouths.

The impact was powerful and extremely sudden. Dotta Luzulas nearly rolled off the rooftop. In a stroke of luck, he just barely managed to grab ahold of the edge with the tiny talons on his gloves. Unfortunately, he was now dangling in midair.

What the heck was that?

He desperately pulled his body back onto the roof and attempted to regain a stable position. He was atop a two-story building with a slight slant, on the outskirts of the main road—probably an inn before they turned it into a warehouse for military supplies.

Dotta had slipped into countless buildings like this before, moving across ceilings and rooftops as easily as walking on solid ground. He could jump down without trouble, too. He knew how to fall properly and had never so much as sprained an ankle.

But he was in a bad situation right now.

“Hmm? There’s a person up on the roof,” said someone from below. There were three—no, four—soldiers in the road. “Hey, do you think that’s the guy who’s been setting all those buildings on fire?”

“It has to be him! Hey! Look at the wall in the back! There are flames!”

“Dammit! Get down here, you!”

When Dotta glanced at the ground, he felt a chill run down his spine. The soldiers already had their swords out.

Oh wow. Yeah, they’re angry. I guess that makes sense.

After all, this was the fourth building he’d set on fire. He was just dousing them in oil and using a sacred seal to ignite it, but the guards were already on high alert, with soldiers sprinting all over the city.

Xylo had said, “It’s safer to spread the fires out across the city, and it’ll create a bigger disturbance, too.” But Dotta was beginning to suspect Xylo had just wanted to make him run around.

He wanted to head straight back and ask Xylo if any of this was necessary. How much was he even helping? He had no idea. Nevertheless, he had a few reasons not to give up. One was that he enjoyed getting to mix his hobbies into his work. It helped him satisfy his urges. Another was that if he went back without doing anything, Xylo would punch him. And last, but not least…

“Hey, idiot. What are you doing?” From atop the roof, he heard Trishil click her tongue. It seemed the building’s wild shaking hadn’t even fazed her. “…How many people are down there?”

She glared at Dotta. His supervisor’s gaze was eerily frightening. With her around, there was no way he could escape.

“F-four! Four soldiers. What are we going to do? We can’t go back down from here!”

“It’ll be fine.” Trishil put on a grim expression and unsheathed the sword at her waist. It was a single-edged weapon with a thick blade. “You need to get some practice in with your lightning staff, Hanged Fox. When this is over, I’ll help train you.”

“Huh?! No thank you…”

“You don’t have a choice,” she replied.

Dotta had no idea why she was so adamant about training him and even more confused about why she kept calling him “Hanged Fox.”

“How long do you plan on staying there? Hurry up and jump.” Trishil leaped down from the roof. “I’ll make easy work of the soldiers below.”

She wasn’t exaggerating. The moment she landed, she slashed two of the men’s throats. Her right hand bent in bizarre directions and cracked like a whip.

“Who is this woman? Did you see that?! Where did she come from?!”

The other two tried to fight back, but they were far too slow and much too weak.

Trishil’s blade appeared to lock with one of the soldier’s, but she didn’t let that stop her. She pushed forward, then kicked him away, only to plunge her sword into his chest and twist. She yanked it back out and swung again as she turned. From her lowered position, she made her last strike—an upward stab that silenced the final soldier.

“Whoa…”

By the time Dotta landed on the ground, it was already over. It appeared Trishil was an accomplished swordsman. Her unique right arm had probably helped. The way she’d overpowered the third soldier, then immediately spun around to take out the fourth, was extraordinary, especially considering the unorthodox angle. Having her as a bodyguard would make anyone feel safe. The issue was…

“Time to head to our next destination.” Trishil brushed back the scarlet hair hanging over her forehead. “No time to rest. You still have enough energy, right?”

“…Yes. Hold on, though. I wanna talk about why I almost slipped off the roof… What was that shaking?”

“Hmm.” Trishil tilted her head to the side. “Yeah. It’s not like you to mess up like that. That shaking was pretty powerf—”

“Ah!”

Dotta’s eyes darted around until he finally saw it. Thanks to his exceptional eyesight, he could make it out even at this distance.

There, lit by the flames of the inn Dotta had just set fire to, was a shadowy figure. It was small, but human-shaped, and it was covered in rags. It had a strangely powerful presence. Its tattered clothing fluttered in the wind as it slowly staggered down a narrow alley.

There was something very suspicious about this figure. It almost looked to be sleepwalking. And it was currently heading toward a group of human soldiers who had just arrived. It seemed the Federated Kingdom’s army had already made it this far.

Dotta could see cavalry and even artillerymen. They were ready for anything and carrying flags with the emblem of a skylark flying through a tempest. But something about them worried Dotta. They looked somehow helpless.

“Enemy spotted! It’s Afanc! Contact headquarters at once!”

“Don’t stop! Keep marching forward and attack!”

“Fire! Back up the cavalry!”

Multiple men shouted, and the cavalry charged, rushing down the road like a great flood as artillerymen supported them from behind.

But the shadowy figure held its own. Its rags began to shake and tilt. Then the hem of its cloak touched the building to its side. A loud crack shook the air as the building was split in half diagonally. Dotta heard the screech of metal, and then the building came down, crushing a few nearby soldiers.

“Dammit! The cavalry! Is anyone still alive?!” shouted someone from across a curtain of dust. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Just how long are Afanc’s claws?!”

There were even soldiers with lightning staffs trying to shoot the demon lord, but to no avail. Its ragged black cloak fluttered in the air, deflecting each bolt and causing them to fizzle out. It was a few moments before Dotta realized the demon lord had launched a counterattack.

A few of the charging soldiers were suddenly split in half. It didn’t matter if they were heavily armored cavalry, infantry, or artillerymen. All of them were sliced right through the trunk.

What is going on? Is it cutting the lightning bolts before they can strike it?

As he watched the human soldiers get ripped to shreds, a chill came over Dotta.

“Infantrymen, spread out and attack!” shouted a man in especially beat-up armor. That must have been their commander. “Listen up! The skylark of House Kurdel flies stronger in the storm! Do not fall behind! Push forward! If I fall, then Llored shall take command! Now charge!”

The infantry rushed forward, attempting to use the rising dust and buildings as cover to get closer.

But it was all in vain.

“Eee!”

The bundle of black rags screeched, and a gust of wind suddenly cleared the dust.

Immediately, the daring infantrymen were under attack. Blood spewed into the air. The lucky ones only lost a limb or two. Others were split right in half. The captain, who had taken the lead, lost his right leg from the hip joint down.

“Eee… Heh-heh.” The rags were laughing. “You’re too weak… Stay away from me. I hate…filthy things…”

A few infantrymen somehow managed to evade the attacks and continued their approach. Just as the tips of their spears, the blades of their swords, and the bolts of their lightning staffs closed in on the demon lord, another disaster struck.

A reddish-black tornado blew in from an alley to the side, tossing away every one of the soldiers. Dotta could hardly even tell what had happened. All he knew was that thorn-like weapons had pierced the men’s armor, knocking them to the ground.

“…You’re wide open, Afanc.” Another shady individual emerged from the alley. Unlike the mass of black rags, this one was pale and hunched. “Don’t stop attacking until every one of them is dead. Tovitz Hughker was worried about you, so I came to help. It seems you still have a lot of learning to do.”

“S-s-sorry…” The black cloak-like creature called Afanc appeared flustered. “This is the first time…I’ve done this…so I’m nervous… I’ll be more careful…n-next time…”

“Are you really trying? I don’t see any improvement.”

“I—I—I am! I’m working hard…!” Afanc groaned as cracks appeared on the ground. It seemed to have swung something about, part of which hit Boojum in the neck but bounced off with a metallic sound. Boojum grabbed it—part of Afanc’s body—with one hand.

“No, you don’t seem to be trying at all. It’s fine if you’re not good at it, but at least make an effort.”

“I don’t want to learn… It’s pointless. You’re weird, Boojum.”

“…First, I’m ordered to back up Anise, now you. I’m beginning to feel like I’m being made to do all the work nobody else wants to do. I’m not a babysitter.”

“What are you talking about? And l-let go of my claws already…!

“Then stop swinging them around randomly. It’s a bad habit.” Boojum’s voice was strangely serious. “Suddenly attacking others like this is rude. Only strike if you’re going to kill.”

“Guh… Ah… Fff…” Afanc groaned uncomfortably.

These two were having a seriously disturbing conversation. Before he realized it, Dotta was bent down and clinging to the roof, holding his breath. If either of them noticed him, he’d be done for.

“…Hey,” he muttered, his throat convulsing. Trishil was at his side, lying low and holding her breath as well. “What are those two? Are they faeries?”

“No,” she replied immediately. She seemed familiar with them. “Don’t let them see you. Those are two sources of Demon Blight. The demon lord in the black cloak is Afanc, while the hunched one is called…‘Boojum,’ I believe.”

“Seriously? Th-those things are ridiculously strong!”

“Yes. This is bad. I wasn’t expecting them to be so powerful.” Even Trishil saw the demon lords as a serious threat. Dotta had never heard her sound so tense. “This is a real mess. If our allies send their forces here, they’re going to be completely destroyed…!”

The Federated Kingdom had the road leading in from the east gate entirely under its control.

There was a break in the fighting, finally allowing us to rest. I even managed to find the time to send Rhyno to get looked over while I chowed down on some of my field rations. If only I had something a little better than mystery meat and wheat gluten…

“You’re taking me with you on all subsequent covert missions,” said Patausche. She was being particularly haughty, for some reason. “You need a more reliable companion.”

Frenci’s reply essentially boiled down to “Shut up. I’ll kill you,” but was delivered in a more roundabout, polite way.

At any rate, things had calmed down. Now that we’d met up with the others, the penal hero unit was ordered to build a new base in front of the east gate while the Ninth Order’s shadows got to work. Jayce was the exception, of course, since he had to prepare for the upcoming aerial battle.

Apparently, the so-called Saint had arrived with the others, but we weren’t able to see her. She was under heavy guard in a canopied, armored carriage engraved with sacred seals, keeping her away from the low-level grunts. This made sense, of course. They needed to be cautious, in case the Demon Blight attacked.

Besides, I was glad I couldn’t see the Saint. I’d probably want to grab her by the collar and punch her in the face. She’d supposedly created an absurdly large staircase to surmount the city wall. Did she know what would happen if she kept performing such massive summonses?

“You look pissed, Bro,” Tsav said point-blank. Venetim had been blatantly avoiding me, so my feelings were probably written all over my face. “I totally get it, though. You wanted to be part of the attack force, too, right? Defense is so freakin’ boring! We don’t get to move around or do anything!”

“Whatever.” I was fed up with Tsav’s flippant attitude. “If you’re really that bored, why don’t you go to the front lines and get killed for disobeying orders? ’S not like we have the right to compla—”

I stopped midsentence. Some piece of crap with a cynical smirk was walking this way: Captain Adhiff Twevel of the Ninth Order. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Why, hello, Xylo,” he said. “You seem to be doing well. I’m surprised.”

“Can’t say the same for the mission.”

Not only had we failed to open the east gate, we hadn’t gained control of the area inside it, either. That said, we’d kept the reinforcements at bay and had driven off one of the demon lords. Still, that was only about half of our objectives. A 50 percent failure rate was grounds to have us all executed, but I doubted a guy like Adhiff would do something so wasteful.

“Ah!” Teoritta, who was sitting by my side, suddenly raised a hand and stood up. “Kelflora! Did you see how much I helped during the battle?!”

“Yes.” Kelflora’s response was quiet and brief, her expression hardly changing. “I saw. You were strong, Teoritta.”

“Right?! Heh-heh. Next, I’ll show you how I fight alongside my knight. We will tear those demon lords apart, crush them, and turn them into fish food!”

“Tear apart… Crush… Fish food…” Kelflora repeated those words, then looked back at Adhiff. “What is she talking about, Adhiff? Are they going fishing?”

“Goddess Teoritta seems to be using unique turns of phrase to express herself. Xylo’s mannerisms must be rubbing off on her.”

“Well, excuse me,” I said. It was true—Teoritta was gradually starting to pick up my speech patterns. Personally, I’d rather the higher-ups at the Temple not find out. “So? What do you want? Did you come all this way so Teoritta and Kelflora could hold a tea party? Nothing better to do with your time?”

“Of course not. I came to give you your next mission.”

“…I figured. What is it?”

“You’re to forge a path into the demon lords’ base—the Second Capital’s castle. Your unit will lead the charge.”

The usual. There was nothing special about this command. It was always our job to run blindly into the enemy’s base where the Demon Blight would be waiting for us. The only difference was that this time, our destination was the royal castle. It was what Adhiff said next that ruffled my feathers.

“However, you must do so while protecting the Saint and her unit as well.”

“The Saint?”

“Yes, the penal heroes will clear the way for Saint Yurisa Kidafreny’s arrival. You have been ordered to charge into the castle from the east and kill Abaddon immediately. That is all.”

I didn’t say a word, but I could see Teoritta’s hair sparking.

“…The Saint,” she muttered. Her voice was unusually quiet. “I heard parts of a certain goddess were transplanted onto her body. Is that true? Are the eye and arm of Senerva, Goddess of Fortresses, hers to wield?”

There was nothing I could say. It was the truth, after all.

“If this is some cruel way to punish my knight…” Teoritta took a step forward, placing herself in between us as if to protect me. I could feel heat radiating from her body like a roaring fire. “Adhiff, I will not allow you to hurt my knight and desecrate the memory of someone so important to him.”

“Stop,” I said. “That’s not what this guy’s trying to do.”

“I don’t mind playing the bad guy,” said Adhiff, “but it was Supreme Commander Marcolas Esgein who came up with this plan. He enthusiastically declared that he would enter the castle alongside the Saint, take command himself, and reclaim the castle.”

“…Things are gonna get really dangerous if Esgein takes command.”

“Yes. Unfortunately, he lacks the talent needed to command an army. At this rate, the poor Saint and the soldiers who volunteered to fight alongside her are doomed.” Adhiff was asking me if I could turn a blind eye to this. That was the kind of guy he was. “Furthermore, I received a message from Captain Hord. They couldn’t find any source of the Demon Blight in the underground passages. Instead, they ran into numerous faeries resistant to poison. In other words, it was an ambush. There seems to be someone on the enemy’s side who can read our every move.”

“…Looks that way.”

I had already considered this possibility, I was just hoping it wasn’t true. Afanc had been let loose in the city, I had just fought Anise and Boojum, we had Sugaar in the sky, and to top it all off, there was Abaddon. There were five demon lords in total, and trying to take all their abilities into consideration was making my head spin. I needed time to process it all.

“Whoever it is, they’re a real pain in the ass,” I said. “We’re attacking them from all sides, and yet they’re showing no signs of breaking down. It’s like they have genuine military experience. But now that they’re surrounded, how do they plan to break free, I wonder?”

“Good question. We still don’t know what Abaddon is capable of, either. Some demon lords are able to charge their power if given enough time, then unleash it to cause massive destruction. Maybe he’s simply trying to buy time.”

“In that case, we have to hurry before things get worse.” The longer this battle dragged on, the more forces we would have to pull from other fronts. Maybe that was exactly what they were after. “Adhiff, what are you and the Eighth Order going to do?”

“Our mission is to protect the city and its civilians. My goddess’s shadows and the soldiers of the Eighth Order aren’t equipped to break through enemy lines, but we can provide backup by sheer force of numbers.”

“Esgein probably doesn’t want to let you guys take any of the credit, either. He hates people from the Temple.”

“You know him well. We were also given a rather special duty to take care of.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“My apologies, it’s strictly confidential. That said, can I tell you something?” He was no longer smiling, but I knew that this cheerless, dead expression was an indication of his utmost goodwill. What an awkward guy. “Personally, I believe that you, Xylo Forbartz, and Goddess Teoritta will be much more crucial to our success in the upcoming battle than the still unstable Saint. If possible, I would love for you to reject your orders. Should you do so, I believe I can use the Noble Alliance to make a few adjustments to the mission.”

“Teoritta.”

I looked at my goddess as sparks flew from her hair and fire roared in her eyes. I was about to drag this goddess down to the depths of hell with me. I was asking her to risk her life to save strangers we would never meet. If I truly respected her and wished to keep her safe, I wouldn’t force her to join me on such a reckless mission.

But of course, this goddess could read me like a book.

“Allow me to bless you.” Teoritta touched my back encouragingly. “You will take me with you into the jaws of death and fight by my side. That is the greatest form of respect. And so, once we have vanquished the Demon Blight and provided guidance to the Saint, you must pat my head like never before.”

“…This is nothing new, but shouldn’t you ask for something a little bigger? You sound ridiculous.”

“That is rich, coming from you, Xylo.” Teoritta smiled, flames burning in her eyes. “You ask for no reward at all.”

“Sure, but it’s not like I have a choice in the matter. I feel sick just thinking about all the smartass remarks I’d have to suffer through from this guy if I refused. I’d rather die.”

“Very well.” Teoritta sighed like an older sister fed up with her naughty little brother. “If that is your story, I shall play along.”

“Thanks.”

I turned around and glanced at the flippant guy behind us. He was lying down, using a bit of rubble as a pillow. I could tell he’d been silently watching our conversation. I doubted he could understand why I was doing this.

“You got that, Tsav? We’re gonna be guarding the Saint.”

“I can’t believe you’re agreeing to this… But you look pretty enthusiastic, so I guess I don’t have a choice.” He sat up, rolled his neck dramatically, then let out a single sigh. “Eh, I guess this beats stayin’ here and being bored outta my mind. Plus, I’m sure you guys would have a hard time without your genius sniper. Let’s go play hero.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, come on, Bro. You know you’d be lonely without me! You need someone cheerful and full of life around.”

“Seriously, shut it. Idiot.” I swore that if he said one more word, I was going to punch him. “Gather the others so I can tell them the plan. This is going to be all hands on deck, so trust me: No one’s gonna be bored.”

I had to sort out the situation immediately.

Time was running out; I stared at a map of the city, racking my brains. While the other penal heroes were resting, I had to think with everything I had.

First, the demon lords roaming the capital: Afanc and Boojum.

I’d received word from Dotta that the two of them were currently moving along the main road toward our primary encampment in the central square. We couldn’t ignore them. This was bad.

Anise’s whereabouts are unknown, but she’s probably lying in wait for us somewhere. Meanwhile, Abaddon is in the castle. We can probably assume he’s the leader of the occupation force.

Then we had Sugaar menacing the skies. Jayce and Neely had said they’d handle it. While this was no doubt a powerful foe, there was no use worrying about it for those of us on the ground, since we couldn’t even reach it.

“…Patausche, come here. I need to discuss strategy with you.”

She was the only one I could talk to about these things. I grabbed her by the shoulder, dragged her over, and shoved her toward the map.

“Wh-what? …Strategy? Oh. We’re discussing strategy, yes?” She recoiled slightly, but I ignored it. We had business to take care of.

“Yeah. We’re going to lead the Saint into battle. Obviously, our destination is here.” I pointed at the castle on the northern side of the map.

The main issue with attacking the castle was the moat surrounding it. There were two bridges you could use to cross the moat. The first one, which led to the main entrance, could be accessed by heading straight north from the central square. The other one was at the back of the castle, along the road heading toward the north gate. If we had to escape, we would use this second bridge.

“There’s a front entrance to the south and a rear one to the north.”

Patausche knit her brow. “Which side will the Saint’s unit attack from?”

“Neither. They’ll be approaching from the east.”

“The east? Are they going to make their own bridge? If they try to bring one with them, they’ll be sitting ducks.”

“No. I suspect they’ll have her summon one. With the goddess of fortresses’ right arm, she has that power.”

“Ah, I see. And you…” Patausche started to say something, then thought better of it. “No, never mind. More importantly, that’s quite a large summons. Will the Saint be all right?”

“I don’t know,” I replied dismissively. “I doubt she knows, either.”

The only thing we could do for her was reduce her burden. If she was going to perform a large summoning, we’d simply have to keep her energy expenditure to a minimum and make sure she didn’t stand out front.

“I suspect this attack will be especially aggressive and heavy-handed, since Esgein’s in command,” I said.

“I know. So I’ll take the vanguard.” Patausche nodded as she gazed at the map. I’d expected her to say that. “Leave this to me and my cavalrymen. We’ll open up a path for the rest of you.”

“All right. Your mobility and skill for breaking through the enemy line should rattle even the demon lords. For that reason, I’d like you to act as decoys.”

“Decoys?”

“Yeah. We only need to land one attack on Abaddon to end this battle. Don’t forget, we have Teoritta’s Holy Sword.”

“Yes! Exactly!” Teoritta poked her head in between Patausche and me, forcing me to lean back. “I shall guide you to victory, Xylo! The time for glory is here! So you better not leave me behind again!”

“I know, I know. We get it.” I had a hard time not laughing. “Tsav, Teoritta, and I will lead the Saint’s unit into battle. The three of us will be handling the real mission.”

“Oh?” said Tsav. “I’m part of the real mission?! Wow, I’m starting to get nervous!” He stretched out both arms and yawned.

What a load of crap, I thought, but I kept my mouth shut. His sniping would give us the opening we needed to strike Abaddon.

“…But we still need people on defense and others creating a diversion. First, we need to protect the central square. Two very powerful demon lords are currently approaching our main forces, and if we lose to them, it’s over.”

According to the reports, the demon lords in question were Afanc and Boojum. If we wanted to go up against these two, we couldn’t slack off. We had to use the best artilleryman and infantryman in the business.

I swept my finger along the map from our position at the east gate all the way to the central square.

“I’ll let you guys decide the specifics. I just need you to keep them busy or, if you can, kill them. Tatsuya, Rhyno, and Norgalle, I’m counting on you three. And I guess I’ll send Venetim along for good measure.”

“Guh.”

“Roger!” replied Rhyno. “You can count on me. Comrade Norgalle, together, we hold the key to victory—”

“Not so fast!” Norgalle, however, wasn’t so thrilled. “You are telling me to sit around guarding these soldiers? Is it not my duty to triumphantly return to my throne?”

“But isn’t protecting your people more important?” I knew he was going to object, so I decided to use a simple method to force his agreement. If you were able to convince Norgalle that his people were in danger, then he would usually agree to do whatever you asked. “Citizens from all over the city are evacuating to the central square with the main forces. If you don’t go to them, who will?”

“…Hmm. Fair point. I shall follow your suggestion, Commander-in-Chief. This seems like a job for the king.”

“I’m counting on you. All we need now is a distraction.” I slid my finger from the eastern district to the north, around to the rear of the royal castle. “Patausche, I need you to go around the castle and attack from the rear. Do you think the former Thirteenth Order will help you out? We need your cavalry’s mobility.”

“…It’s possible, but many were injured in our last battle. Only around three hundred can still fight. It won’t be enough.”

Patausche frowned. I knew exactly what she wanted to say. To create a distraction, we needed enough soldiers to make the enemy worry. They had to believe the cavalry was our secret weapon—our true main force—and three hundred soldiers wasn’t going to cut it.

“I would need double that, Xylo,” she said. “Is there nothing we can do?”

“If we just need more soldiers, then maybe Venetim can help. If it’s only numbers, he should be able to find a way.”

“Huh?! M-me?” Venetim looked up from his tea. His face was as haggard as a corpse’s, and the light was gone from his eyes.

“Yeah, you. We need three hundred more soldiers. You’ve got an hour. Can you do it?”

“Wh-what? There’s no way I can get that many.”

“…You’re a mess, Xylo.” Frenci’s voice suddenly seemed to descend from the heavens. I looked up, and there she was, straddling a gray horse. When the hell did she get a horse? “Surely, asking me for help would be far more practical, no? You are as dull-witted as a sleeping seal. It is clear you are asking too much of that woman.”

“You—!”

“Frenci,” I interrupted, before Patausche could start a war. “Who’d you steal that horse from?”

“Do I look like a thief to you? Do not insult my integrity. More importantly, did you think I came all this way alone? That I crossed Mount Tujin by myself, on foot?”

“Wait… What are you trying to say?”

“You are so slow. What an utter fool.”

Frenci raised a hand into the air and snapped. The gesture fit her personality to a tee. Immediately, men and women with hazel skin and iron-gray hair emerged from the alley behind her in droves, each carrying a curved sword at their waist.

“With me are four hundred warriors of the Southern Night-Gaunts. Xylo, these warriors came all this way to fight under your leadership, well aware that you are a penal hero and that they shall gain neither honor nor wealth by fighting at your side.”

That sounded terrifying. Four hundred warriors? Was she serious? But there they were, standing right in front of me.

“The reason I stopped by the base on Mount Tujin was so that I could bring them to you.”

“It’s good to see you again,” exclaimed one of the warriors in a deep, rumbling voice. He was particularly muscular, with a receding hairline. “I wish I could have come sooner.”

I recognized both is face and voice. His name was Isidrig, and I’d known him since I was a child. He’d taught me martial arts and how to read and write. He was my mentor, and my body still vividly remembered his intense training—especially when it came to reading and writing.

“We’ve all been waiting for you to return home as our commander and lead us into battle.”

He had a very serious face, but his mouth was curved in a faint smile. Isidrig had always been expressive, for a Southern Night-Gaunt. But it was rare for his smile to be so apparent that even I could see it. Was this really such a happy occasion? I felt rather gloomy. The weight of their expectations was overwhelming, and I had no way to pay them back for their service. After all, I was only a penal hero.

What the heck am I doing? What the heck are they doing?

Maybe these Southern Night-Gaunts weren’t just here as members of the Mastibolt family, hoping I’d help build a solid, powerful clan. Could it be that some of them actually liked me? Maybe I was just full of myself.

Whatever the reason, it was already too late. I couldn’t go back to them, and while I felt guilty about it, I didn’t really want to. I couldn’t let myself. Involving them would only damage their position, and more than that…

I’ll wind up dragging them to hell with me.

That much I knew for sure. No good would come of this.

“Every one of us always planned on fighting by your side one day,” said Isidrig. “I’m the same. So go on, give us your orders. My only regret is that our first mission won’t see us fighting side by side.”

“What’s wrong with you people?” I asked. “Have you lost your minds?”

“I have news for you,” he replied, with the blankness typical of a Southern Night-Gaunt. “You have inspired far more people than you can imagine. That’s why we’ve come. Would you like to hear everyone’s reason for volunteering? I’m sure they’d be more than happy to tell you.”

I didn’t reply. I had no right to. “…Frenci, what does your father have to say about this?” I asked, unable to soften my voice. “I don’t want to cause him any more trouble.”

“He told us that, should we choose this path, we must succeed at all costs.” Her tone was all business, but I thought I glimpsed something beyond her blank mask—something I would never be able to reason with.

It was always like this. The Mastibolts—the people who raised me—had never once changed their mind because of something I said. None of them belonged to me, and I had no say over their thoughts. So if they wanted to fight alongside me, I had no right to stop them.

“Patausche.” I turned away from the Southern Night-Gaunts toward the former captain of the Holy Knights. I didn’t want it to look like they’d fought according to my commands. I had no idea how much that would hurt their position. And so I wordlessly asked Patausche for a favor. “…Take good care of them for me. Looks like you got the soldiers you wanted.”

“You’re asking me to work with this woman?” Patausche grimaced visibly.

“You are free to refuse,” replied Frenci. “If you lack confidence, then you may wait in the rear. We Southern Night-Gaunts are capable of fighting alone if necessary.”

“…For no particular reason, I find this woman especially unpleasant.” Patausche was already squeezing the hilt of the her blade. “But I will do what I must…because it is the right thing to do.” She patted me on the back. “So make sure you win. Hurry up and put an end to this battle.”

“…Yes, yes,” muttered Frenci as she nimbly hopped off her horse. She slapped me on the back, too, even harder than Patausche. “Go, my beloved. I know you can do it.”

She struck me so hard, I stumbled forward a bit. But just as I was about to complain…

A ray of light shot through the air, followed by an explosive roar. Then a massive shadow crossed the moonlit night sky. It was thickset, with transparent wings, like an insect. Was that Demon Lord Sugaar? It seemed to be chasing a figure with vivid, azure wings.

“It’s getting noisy over here,” I muttered as a few more rays of light soared over our heads, followed by more explosions. I placed a hand on the sacred seal on the nape of my neck.

“Hey, Jayce. Sounds like you’re having some trouble up there.”

“Shut up,” came the reply. A group of other dragons used their fire breath to cover for the azure-winged silhouette as it twisted and turned in midair, barely dodging more explosions of light.

“We’ll handle the sky… So hurry up and finish things down on the ground.”

“All right. You sure you’ll be fine without us?”

“Of course. Don’t even think about trying to help.” The signal turned to noise as Jayce and Neely made a sharp turn in the air. “Or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

They dodged another beam in the nick of time. I had no idea how they were avoiding Sugaar’s homing strikes.

“You got it.”

I decided to leave the skies to Jayce and Neely. Worrying about them would just be a waste of time. But since they were busy facing off against Sugaar, we couldn’t count on their help on the ground.

Our defense force protecting the main troops would consist of Tatsuya, Norgalle, Rhyno…and Venetim. They would be responsible for handling Afanc and Boojum.

Patausche and Frenci would lead the decoy mission. I suspected they’d wind up facing Anise.

Teoritta, Tsav, and I would lead the Saint’s squad into battle, but our real mission was to kill Abaddon, just the three of us.

There’s not much else we can do. I’d like to call Dotta back to help, but with this level of chaos, that won’t be possible.

The demon lords were doing a good job of controlling the situation. They must have had quite a cunning, nasty strategist on their side. It felt almost like they were buying time. But whatever their plan was, I was going to tear it down.

And after that…

I hesitated for a moment, then decided to hedge my bets a little. This was the ace up my sleeve, my last resort.

“King Norgalle.” I turned toward the man’s large back and held out a small bag.

Adhiff hadn’t taken it back. Did he forget? That seemed unlikely. He must be telling me to make good use of it. What once served as proof of a royal’s right to succeed was now no more than a weapon. In that case, it made sense to leave it with the person best able to use it. I felt the same way, and that was why I was giving it to Norgalle.

“Take this,” I said. “I think you’ll make far better use of it than I ever could.”

“Hmph.” Norgalle grabbed the bag and glanced inside. Then he nodded, as if this were no big deal. “This is the Sacred Key, Kaer Vourke.”

“You can tell just by glancing at it?”

“Of course. This is proof of my kinghood. I was concerned about its whereabouts. It’s usually kept in a hidden room within the castle where only the royal family can find it.”

“Yeah, sure…”

“You doubt me, you insolent buffoon?!” Norgalle snapped. As he did so, he traced his finger along the key’s shaft.

All of a sudden, the Kaer Vourke began to glow, wrapping Norgalle’s body in a faint light. Was I hallucinating?

“Good,” said the king with a dignified nod. Then he lifted the key into the air. “The key has returned to the hands of its rightful owner. Now it is time to reclaim my capital!”

I wasn’t sure why, but this scene felt like it was meant to be. I have to be imagining things, I thought.

Just then, the sky flashed, followed by two or three explosions. Something was falling to the surface.

It was a dragon and its knight—or what was left of their corpses. They landed right in the middle of Asgarsha Street. The impact turned their bodies into mush; they’d never even had a chance to scream.

“Xylo…!” Teoritta grabbed the hem of my coat. She was pale with fear, but she bravely looked on. I wished she’d act more like the kid she was.

“Things are getting serious up there,” I said.

It was Demon Lord Sugaar. Up in the sky, I could see its colossal figure, like some distorted insect, bathed in moonlight, alongside a group of sinister-looking faeries. It was like something out of a nightmare, and only the dragon knights were capable of handling it.

Among them, the azure dragon was maneuvering with exceptional talent, making the others look dull and slow. Her striking scales caught the eye as she rushed through the pack of faeries at unbelievable speed.

“I’m counting on you guys,” I said. You’d better win.

But as I watched, Sugaar used its explosive rays to slaughter another dragon knight who got too close. Then it shot a beam toward the surface, almost as an afterthought, turning a portion of the eastern district into dust. It was a powerful blow. We felt the vibrations under our feet as an unruly gust of wind blew through.

“Ah!” Teoritta screamed and latched on to me.

That must have been the “Radiant Bomb” Jayce told me about. What a terrifying power. If it weren’t for Jayce and Neely, the ground troops would have been wiped out before they even got close.

“Hey, Xylo…,” said Teoritta. “Could you reach that demon lord in the air if you jumped?”

“I wouldn’t even come close.”

And so there was only one thing to do.

“We’ll just have to pray.”

“To Jayce and Neely?”

“To Neely.”

We just had to hope that Jayce was right, and that no one stood a chance of defeating him and Neely in the air.

When was the last time he’d visited the Second Capital? He’d been on the battlefield for so long that he couldn’t even remember. However, taking command on the front line was how a king should rule in dangerous times like these.

Norgalle Senridge believed that a king’s duty was to protect his people, not to hide in his castle while his people protected him.

“Do not fear!” he roared, allowing his voice to echo throughout the central square. He was speaking to the citizens who had evacuated here from all over the capital. “I, your king, have come to save you all. I vow to protect each and every one of you.”

He could feel the skeptical gazes of the soldiers. But that was no surprise. None of them had ever seen their king. He had been fighting continuously for so long that he’d never gotten the chance to greet his people properly.

So Norgalle gave a generous nod and raised his voice even louder as he lifted the Sacred Key, Kaer Vourke—proof of his position as king—high into the air.

“I am the guardian of these lands! I am the one who governs the law and the people! I am Norgalle Senridge the First! Ruler of the Federated Kingdom of Zef-Zeal Meht Kioh!”

After a short silence, the crowd began to stir.

“U-um… Your Majesty?”

A man at his side named Venetim Omawisc spoke up. He ran the nation as chancellor. The Omawiscs were a prominent family who had been occupying important posts in the Allied Administration Division for generations, and the next in line to take over was Venetim. Though the man was less than competent, Norgalle believed he was a skilled politician, especially considering his natural talent for interparty negotiation. Furthermore, he was blessed with a silver tongue and could convince others to do almost anything.

In Norgalle’s kingdom, the chancellor didn’t have to be smart or particularly skilled. The talent to delegate to more capable individuals and to use negotiation to keep things running smoothly were more important. Not that Norgalle believed Venetim was aware of any of this.

“I—I do not mean to offend you, King Norgalle,” continued Venetim. “But I suspect the soldiers are having a hard time believing that the king himself is here. So perhaps…we should focus less on firing up the soldiers and more on setting up defenses in the square.”

“Fair point.” Norgalle began to march forward. He had far too many tasks to attend to. “Has my commander-in-chief started the mission?”

“Huh? Oh, yes. Xylo is already heading toward the castle.”

“Very well. I will leave reclaiming the castle to him.” Norgalle strolled leisurely ahead, stroking his moustache.

Xylo Forbartz was an exceptional tactician with a sharp mind. He was even skilled enough to lead the kingdom’s most elite unit himself. Of course, Xylo hardly used his brain for anything other than combat, and he had a rough attitude and lacked respect for his king. Nevertheless, his demeanor was of little importance, since he always delivered remarkable results on the battlefield. Norgalle had no doubt he would successfully reclaim the castle. And until then, it was the king’s duty to protect his people.

“Follow my orders, men! We have a lot to do. We must keep the evacuees safe while luring as many enemies in this direction as possible!”

“…Just as I thought.” Venetim had gone completely pale. Norgalle was dumbfounded that anyone could be so nervous before they had even begun. “So a bunch of enemies are going to come this way, yes? …And we’re purposely luring them here…?”

“Precisely, Chancellor Venetim. Are you ready for your orders?”

“Huh? Me? Are you expecting me to fight, too?”

“Don’t get cocky. You would be slaughtered in minutes. It’s that silver tongue of yours that I need. Console the evacuating citizens, and give them weapons to protect themselves. The last thing we need is panic.”

“Ugh,” groaned Venetim, clearly not excited about his job. “I—I, uh… I’m the chancellor, so if possible, I would prefer to work somewhere a little safer…”

“Silence! The fate of our nation rests on this battle! We must do everything in our power to succeed, regardless of our social status.”

“But, uh… Oh! Right! There’s a new law that states that the chancellor has to wait at a specified location—”

“I have never heard of such a law. At any rate, I am the king, and I hereby repeal it! Now go!”

“…Yes, Your Majesty.”

Norgalle sped up, leaving behind a dispirited Venetim, his head low in resignation.

In the heart of the square stood a clock tower that offered a clear view of the entire northern stretch of the main road. Norgalle hurried up its spiral staircase two steps at a time. At the top, he found Rhyno already waiting; his dark crimson armor looked almost wet in the moonlight.

“Rhyno! What’s the situation to the north?!”

“Hello, Comrade Norgalle. I’m afraid it isn’t good,” Rhyno announced calmly as he gazed northward.

The man had the absurd habit of calling him “comrade,” but he was good at his job, so Norgalle overlooked this insolent behavior. But that wasn’t the only strange thing about him. Norgalle thought for a moment. How had Rhyno ended up joining his elite unit of heroes anyway? It must have been the head of intelligence…

The head…of intelligence…

Did such a person exist? Norgalle suddenly felt as though he were standing on the edge of a dark pit. But just as he looked down, Rhyno pointed north with his left hand.

“Look there, Comrade Norgalle.”

Ah, right, he thought. I must focus on the battle ahead.

“Countless soldiers are retreating from the north. Comrade Tatsuya is dealing with the waves of faeries on the street, but…”

Rhyno was right. Norgalle could see soldiers and civilians fleeing with faeries hot on their heels. If it weren’t for Tatsuya furiously swinging his battle-ax, most of them would already be dead.

Tatsuya’s movements were positively inhuman. He got down on all fours like a beast, then lunged at a troll and sliced it in half at the trunk. He evaded packs of bogies, snapping their necks with his bare hands. Norgalle knew of no one else who could pull off such feats.

And yet there was only so much one person could do.

“I suspect we’re having such difficulties because of the demon lords Afanc and Boojum,” explained Rhyno. “They’ve already eliminated our advance forces and are currently heading south. They lack sophisticated strategy, but they’re both quite powerful…”

Norgalle got the feeling Rhyno was smiling beneath his helmet. He was always filled with glee when they came up against demon lords. Perhaps he was a born hunter, or simply obsessed with the thrill of danger.

“I would love to provide backup,” said Rhyno. “We must save them.”

“Can you pull it off on your own?”

“I’m not certain, but I think it would be difficult. They’re both truly powerful… So much so that I can barely contain my excitement.”

“Then bring Tatsuya with you. Slow them down for as long as you can.”

“You seem confident. Do you have a plan?”

“I cannot share the specifics, but I promise you this: As your king, I will guide you to victory.” Norgalle then touched Rhyno’s shoulder with the tip of the Kaer Vourke. It was the gesture of a king honoring his knight. “I put my trust in you. Buy me time. Can you do it?”

“Yes, of course!” replied Rhyno cheerfully. “I am thrilled you believe in me. Truly thrilled. I will be sure to dispose of those demon lords. After all, I am a hero.”

“Very well. That just leaves—”

The instant Norgalle looked up to the sky, a ray of light burst through the air, as if the enemy had timed it just for him. Demon Lord Sugaar flew through the night on its thin wings, its massive beetle-like body wrapped in a jet-black shell. It appeared that the rays of light were coming from the three horns on its head.

Those rays must have been the homing explosives he’d heard about. Sugaar was attacking Jayce and the other dragon knights, and those who weren’t able to dodge were being blown away right before his eyes.

He had already given Jayce a weapon to fight back against this attack, but there had been no time to fine-tune it, and it was a crude piece of work. If only he’d had a little more time, he could have increased its precision. Thanks to this, Jayce was having a hard time finding a chance to counterattack.

In short, Jayce was in need of backup as well.

“I suppose there’s no avoiding it,” he muttered.

His subordinates seemed to love giving him headaches like this. Wasn’t it their job to protect their king?

But he couldn’t find it in him to be upset. Instead, his heart felt light and clear.

“When all’s said and done, taking care of my loyal subordinates is my duty as king.”

Demon Lord Sugaar was chasing them through the wind.

They’d been able to feel his bloodlust for some time now. His target was clear—the two of them. Jayce Partiract touched Neely’s neck and conveyed the situation to her.

“The enemy’s after us, Neely. Are you tired?”

“Not in the slightest,” she replied with a sharp call. She flapped her wings, as if to prove her point. “Even if I were tired, who would protect you and the world if I stopped flying? Should I ask someone else to let you ride them?”

“That’s not happening,” said Jayce with a wry grin. It was during tense moments such as these that a little relaxed banter was most helpful, and Neely must have known that instinctually. “But that thing’s sure keeping us busy. Here comes another attack, Neely. Focus on dodging.”

“Agreed.”

A bright light shone behind them, and three beams came flying: Sugaar’s homing bombs. They weren’t that fast, but the demon lord could shoot three at once, one from each of its horns. Because of this, it was proving very difficult for them to switch to offense.

“That thing just doesn’t give up. And there are too many other enemies in the sky,” complained Neely as she tilted her body in a turn.

The rays of light homed in on her tail as three oberons charged her from the front. These massive beelike faeries used the stinger on their tails to attack. This, too, could become a projectile.

“Hey! Three faeries are heading right for the princess!”

Jayce could hear a muffled voice from the sacred seal on his neck. Dragon knights used sacred seals to communicate in the air, and the seal on Jayce’s neck sometimes picked up their calls.

A lot of dragon knights had been sent here to reclaim the capital—perhaps as many as fifty, a number unprecedented in the history of the Federated Kingdom.

“Which one of you idiots messed up? Don’t let the enemies near her!”

“Kiske! Morton! Stay on top of your targets, dammit!”

“I’m sorry, Princess. Jayce, please take care of them for us.”

“Princess” was what the dragon knights called Neely. They’d originally called her all sorts of silly nicknames, like the “Azure Reaper” and “Guardian of the Skies” until Jayce had a word with them. “Princess” embarrassed Neely, and she’d asked them to stop, but once the latter nickname had spread, it was too late to do anything about it.

Dragon knights were special in that they didn’t treat the penal heroes like garbage. That was probably due to the profound respect they had for Jayce, or rather for Neely, who allowed Jayce to fight alongside her. The sky was a lonely battlefield, and you had to respect anyone who could guide you to victory.

Jayce glared at the oberons ahead. “Let’s charge right through them,” he suggested. “I’m more worried about the exploding light rays, so let’s get to the other side, then turn around.”

“All right.” Neely began to speed up. “I’m counting on you, Jayce.”

They rapidly approached the oberons. Neely reduced the first one to ash before it could make a move, while Jayce hurled a lance, skewering another.

“Incredible! Where did Princess’s rider learn to do that?”

“I heard that Jayce is a master of Western combat.”

“He learned from that master in the Partiract family, right? What was his name again? That ogre of a man…?”

Whatever, thought Jayce. He didn’t want to think about his mentor. None of those memories were pleasant. He’d even had a near-death experience due to that man’s so-called training.

Just one more to go…!

Jayce evaded the incoming oberon’s stinger and skewered it with a second lance; then he and Neely got into position to turn. Sugaar’s homing beams were rapidly approaching from behind.

“All right, Neely.”

Jayce grabbed the tool fastened at his waist. It might look like a few rocks tied together with rope, but Norgalle claimed it was a weapon that could counteract the enemy’s attacks. The man had wanted more time to refine it, but according to him, it should still be effective. Jayce had already tested it, and a measly three beams shouldn’t pose a problem.

“It’s time to end this.”

Still, he could feel himself trembling with anxiety. Sugaar was right before his eyes. The beams were still headed right for them, but if he could take them out…

Just then, Sugaar’s horns began to glow again. Light flashed before Jayce’s eyes.

What…?

He hadn’t expected this. There were now six shots they needed to dodge. Up until now, there had been no indication the demon lord could fire another round so quickly. Jayce had thought everything would be fine as long as he could handle three at once. His strategy didn’t account for any more.

“Dammit! Neely, just focus on evading! Sorry. It looks like this is going to take longer than I thought.”

“Where are your manners, Jayce?” whispered Neely. “Is Xylo starting to rub off on you?”

“Quit it. I’m sorry, okay?”

“It’s fine. You’ll make it through.” Neely’s movement smoothed, and she picked up the pace. “I’ll protect you, and you’ll protect me, okay? Together, we’re shouldering the whole world, so that much should be simple.”

Easier said than done, thought Jayce. He clenched his teeth to keep himself from seizing in fear. As the six beams chased after them, he filled his head with images of the two of them killing Sugaar.

There was a way to win this. There had to be. Because if he failed, he’d never be able to face the other penal heroes again, especially that pain in the butt, Xylo Forbartz.

There were approximately two thousand soldiers under the Saint’s command. Far too many, if you asked me.

Nobles were providing soldiers in droves, particularly to the main forces under Supreme Commander Marcolas Esgein, hoping to back the winning horse. That way, they wouldn’t need to march into battle or win military fame themselves. As long as they had their names associated with the Saint’s unit, their contribution to reclaiming the castle would assure cushy treatment for them in the near future.

No one was more obvious about this than Hawin Dasmitur, head of the Dasmitur family.

“Saint! Sir Esgein! Please feast your eyes on the soldiers from the Dasmitur family!” exclaimed Hawin, sucking up to them as best as he could. He had brought knights in heavy armor, polished to a mirror finish.

Incidentally, although Esgein was on horseback, the Saint was still inside her personal carriage and surrounded by a sacred seal barrier, completely protecting her from outside forces.

“I vow to bring victory to you both!” shouted Hawin.

“Good.” Esgein nodded, evidently satisfied. He gave Hawin a firm pat on the shoulder. “This is why they call the Dasmitur family a pride of lions. I’m impressed. The Saint and I are counting on you.”

“It is an honor, Sir Esgein! …Men, rouse yourselves! Prepare for battle!”

What kind of pathetic joke was this? Battle cries rose up from behind me, but I wasn’t about to join in on this nonsense. I kept my gaze forward, my mind on the route we were to take: We’d go up the eastern district’s main street, cross the bridge, then enter the castle. We had a long road ahead of us.

“Do not fear, Xylo. I am here for you,” Teoritta said confidently, just as I was about to sigh. “No demon lord stands a chance against my Holy Sword!”

“I know. The issue is that we can only use it once. Tsav, it’s your job to deal with any enemy that gets in the way of our objective.”

“Yep, yep. No problem.” Tsav lifted his sniping staff into the air before skillfully spinning it in one hand. “I should start thinking about what I want as a reward once this is over. I mean, we’re totally getting something, right? Since we’ll be the first ones inside to reclaim the castle and all. What about you, Teo? Maybe some sweets?!”

“Sweets! Good idea! I could have a tea party with Kelflora. You are invited, of course, Xylo!”

“Not a care in the world, huh?” I checked the handles of my knives to make sure I could unsheathe them at a moment’s notice. “If we fail, there won’t be any tea parties, so you’d better be ready.”

I crouched, then lightly hit the ground three times with my left fist, using the echoes to survey our surroundings.

“They’re almost here. About two hundred enemies straight ahead, fifty each on the roofs to our left and right.”

“Not much of a welcome. Hmm… Think we’re not very popular, Bro?”

“Patausche and Frenci are creating a diversion in the north, so let’s finish this before the enemy figures out something’s up. We’ll crush the faeries in front of us and push forward. The soldiers in the back can handle the leftovers.”

Glancing back, I spotted familiar faces among the Dasmitur infantrymen—the same poor, unlucky saps forced to bring up the rear in the Tujin Tuga Hills. They’d been tenacious, relentlessly moving even when the enemy caught up with them. I figured it would take a lot to wear them down. It was nice to have soldiers I could trust to take out the trash faeries. That would make my job a lot easier.

“Xylo, listen.” Teoritta looked at me, her eyes full of expectation. I already knew exactly what she wanted to say. “Please promise me that when we win—”

“I know. We’ll have a tea party on the balcony once we’ve taken back the castle.”

I lifted Teoritta into my arms, then kicked as hard as I could off the ground.

Majesty Street Cheltegarsha stretched from the northern end of the Second Capital all the way around the castle. It was the largest public road, with the longest history, and was developed many years ago to be used by nobles.

But now, Cheltegarsha Street was overrun with faeries.

Fuathan, bogies…dullahans…and even trolls.

Patausche fixed her eyes on the horde of enemies blocking their path. It appeared to be a mixed unit composed of bipedal humanoid faeries and those that walked on all fours. The dullahans were their main forces, but if the trolls blocked her unit’s path, they’d have to deal with a bunch of fuathan and bogies.

The biggest problem was what was happening above their heads. Jayce and Neely had their hands tied fighting Sugaar, leaving the dragon knights too busy to help with the faeries. Every once in a while, some oberons would fly down at them, and they’d have to assume formation and fire a volley of shots to take them down, losing soldiers all the while.

However, this effectively drew the enemy’s attention, which was exactly what they wanted as decoys. All they had to do now was hold the enemy back and keep them busy for as long as they could. If successful, they would reduce the burden on both the Saint’s unit and on everyone in the central square.

…We can’t fail.

Patausche tried not to think too hard about how many enemies were coming out of the castle to stop her forces. Her mission was simply to eliminate any threat that approached, and that was what she would focus on.

“Soldiers, prepare for battle!” she shouted, raising her spear into the air and galloping off. “Charge!”

“Roger,” replied the chief officers of both the cavalry and the sniper units. This was followed by the familiar cries of the soldiers.

The former Thirteenth Order transformed into a single lance shooting down Cheltegarsha Street as the snipers fired their lightning staffs from atop their horses. The attacks themselves weren’t devastating, but they were more than enough to cause chaos in the enemy lines, creating an opening for the cavalry to strike.

That’s Siena for you. Impressive as always.

Siena, the chief officer of the sniper unit, fired into a dullahan in front of Patausche seconds before they collided. The shot pierced right through its head, knocking it out of the way like a doll.

“Nistagis.”

With this brief chant, flames began gushing out from the tip of Patausche’s spear. This was yet another skill provided by her Strike Seal Compound, Niskaphol, and it allowed her to mow down the enemy’s vanguard and intimidate the rest as she gave her next command.

“Flank the enemy!”

Patausche headed right, while the cavalry and sniper officers veered left. Cheltegarsha Street was once a grand avenue used for parades celebrating the military’s triumphal return to the capital, and the side roads branching off it were comparatively wide. This allowed the soldiers on horseback to take shelter there after clashing with the enemy and evade reprisals. In fact, they’d memorized the terrain for exactly this reason.

From one side, the silhouette of a horse emerged. Atop it sat a woman of the Southern Night-Gaunts, her iron-gray hair fluttering free. She raised her curved swords overhead, giving the signal. “It is time to hunt under the Mastibolt banner.”

The infantry raised a flag with the crest of an elk leaping among waves, marking them as separate from Patausche’s men. These lightly armed warriors leaped down from the rooftops into the alleyways, swinging their curved swords and delivering lethal blows to each of the faeries pursuing Patausche’s forces, eliminating the threat of pursuit.

“All right.” Patausche exhaled a cloud of white fog. The temperature had dropped precipitously once the sun had fully set.

“Are you tired, Patausche Kivia?” Frenci approached her on horseback. “You are free to rest if needed,” she added coldly, with her usual arrogance.

“Same goes for you.” Patausche’s spearhead sparked as she lightly swung it. “The battle is far from over. We need to keep the enemy busy until that man—until Xylo Forbartz and Goddess Teoritta eliminate their leader. My soldiers and I will be fine, but what about you all?”

Frenci Mastibolt—Patausche always got aggressive around this woman, and in a different way than she did with Xylo. She couldn’t quite articulate why, but it was likely due to a simple clash in personalities. For example, the way Frenci spoke just didn’t sit right with Patausche. Nor did her constant reminders about how she’d grown up with Xylo.

“We will be able to hold out as long as it takes,” Frenci replied. “We Southern Night-Gaunts never give up, and certainly not during a minor skirmish such as this. Surely, Xylo Forbartz is no different?”

“…Then prove it. Come on.”

Just as Patausche looked away, Frenci grabbed her by the arm and tugged her so hard that she almost knocked her over, horse and all.

“What do you think you’re—?!” Patausche began, then stopped.

There was no way Frenci would do something without a reason, and she would never physically harass Patausche. Something must have happened, and Frenci had no time to warn her. Quickly reaching this conclusion, Patausche swung her spear and chanted the words to activate her defensive sacred seal.

“Niskeph!”

A pale barrier of light surrounded the two of them a split second before something white slammed into it and shattered. Ice? It was hardened into the shape of an arrow or a spear.

Which means…

Patausche could feel a chill air seep into her mouth through her parted lips, and it wasn’t just the cold of the night. The temperature around them was dropping at an alarming rate.

“Which of you is the captain?” came a voice from above. A lone girl stood atop the roof of a noble’s mansion. “I see one of you is a human from that unit… If I kill you here, it would remove one of His Excellency’s worries.”

The girl wore black clothes and had long white claws growing from her fingertips. Patausche swiftly concluded that she was a source of the Demon Blight.

“That’s Demon Lord Anise. I fought her once already,” said Frenci. She’d covered her mouth with a cloth, hoping it would help keep her throat from freezing. “She can lower the temperature of the surrounding area.”

“I see,” replied Patausche. “Do you have a strategy to defeat her?”

“But of course.”

“Then allow me to assist. You and I will handle her alone.” Patausche wrapped a cloth around her mouth as well. “Men! Return to the main road to continue the fight! I’m transferring command to Zofflec! I will stay here to deal with the demon lord.”

After giving her orders, she swiftly hopped off her horse. It would be easier to fight this opponent on foot. She then pointed her spear at the ground, activating its sacred seal with a simple chant.

“Niskeph Rada.”

A pale, glittering barrier came to life below her feet, shooting Patausche straight up into the air. More followed, carrying her all the way to the rooftop.

“…I think we’ve had enough of you and your cavalry…,” said Anise, spreading her arms to attack.

As her white claws grew longer, the temperature dropped even further. Patausche could feel her eyes beginning to freeze. But she had come prepared.

“Don’t be late, Frenci.”

Patausche twirled her spear overheard as flames gushed from its tip; the extreme heat hit the cold, generating a small gust. She stepped forward and swung her fiery spear at Anise. The blade met her white claws, and the girl, with her delicate-seeming frame, leaped backward, black wings fluttering. She was more agile than she appeared, and she’d put a good distance between them.

Frenci, however, wasn’t about to let her escape.

“Good work.”

Frenci had made her way onto the roof and was now dashing across it, swinging her curved blades right where Anise was about to land. The demon lord had no choice but to defend. She wordlessly blocked the swords with her claws—first two, then three times, creating sparks with each hit.

“Hmph.” She let out a cold breath, maintaining her guard. “You are quite the eyesore.”