Episode 36

A world bathed in light. Every monster that still existed was swallowed by the radiance and vanished. Strangely, there were no casualties on the human side.

“Beautiful… as if it were blessing us.”

“I thought it before, but you really are weird.”

The Masked Gentleman and Yorn had fought hard and slain more monsters than they could count, yet the magic Luke released surpassed even that in scale.

“Did he… wipe out all the monsters? H-haha… Just who was I picking a fight with?”

“A new hero may have been born. Skinny! Enough—get up already!”

Many could not keep up with the sudden change, but little by little their understanding caught up. Thanks to Luke’s deeds, the battle had ended.

The monsters’ assault had never stopped. Each squad had been dragged into seemingly endless carnage. Many were wounded, but they avoided the worst—total annihilation.

“Sir Luke. Splendidly done. All we could manage was to support you.”

“I just thought I had to do something. If you told me to do the same again, I doubt I could…”

Luke sank to one knee, shoulders heaving—spent as if he had used up all his strength.

He looked around to see many wounded. Some might never open their eyes again. Even so, it had not been in vain. If even one life was saved, it was not in vain—he carved that conviction into his heart.

“Hey, boy of light… Marvelous! A magnificent feat.”

“Cut it out. Everyone’s staring at you funny.”

The Masked Gentleman, Yorn, their squad, and other knights and mages gathered. Some came to thank Luke, some out of curiosity, and some simply drifted toward where the strong stood—their reasons varied.

“Mr. Yorn, is this at least one turning point?”

“At the very least, for now. …But immediate return is impossible. With this many wounded, we can’t move people recklessly.”

The squads’ purpose had been only the entrance test. No one had planned for a large-scale battle on the Igza Plains. Naturally, there were no specialists from the Maria Church, masters of healing… though the reinforcement units might be different.

“Treatment and casualty checks. Then perimeter security. Once we’ve stabilized things, we’re going to want an explanation. We have the right to know.”

His face looked mild, but what of his thoughts? Anyone who knew Yorn well would have been sweating if they stood here.

They centered treatment on the gravely wounded. With few dedicated healers, they set priorities for who to treat, and the rest would be handled after returning. No—everyone could only accept that. This was still monster territory, and no one knew when fighting might reignite.

Now they kept watch while treating the injured, and the officers shared information.

“Have we calmed down for the moment? Then, Commander Hares—what exactly is this situation? …Surely you won’t wave it off with ‘military secret,’ will you?”

Yorn glared with a smile. The Masked Gentleman chimed in, “Exactly so!” with a baffling nod.

“I know what you’re trying to say. …All of it came as orders from above.”

Hares had overseen the entrance test.

According to him, the upper brass had predicted a high chance that the same organization causing trouble in the Kingdom of Diabalet would meddle in the test. The national army’s leadership turned that on its head and drafted an operation to strike first. That was why the reinforcement units appeared during the second test.

“To prevent leaks, they told only a portion of knights and mages the plan. And the prediction hit. You walked straight into the enemy’s trap.”

“…Cut the sneer. If anything, we’re victims too.”

Yorn could not entirely fault Hares. They carried out the plan on orders—then suffered an unforeseen monster assault.

“Unlucky. But that’s your problem. Look at their faces.”

The examinees who had cleared the first test and come to take the second—unlike at the start, when they were brimming with spirit, now their faces bore fear, sorrow, anger, and confusion. They already knew what they had been used for.

“Our numbers have dropped a lot since the start. Some came far from home, away from their parents. How long will those parents wait for a result?”

“Enough! I told you—orders from above! That’s the army, and you know it!”

“Doing only what you’re told isn’t a soldier; it’s a slave. At the very least, you selected the candidates who passed the first test. …You drove people without strength into a deathtrap. —Who takes responsibility?”

Many examinees stood here to hear it. Naturally, the looks they cast at Hares and the others turned harsh.

“Responsibility!? There is none! If you aim to be a knight or a mage, staking your life is a given!”

“Good grief, how unbecoming. Mr. Yorn, isn’t there a proper venue to resolve this sinful matter?”

“…So there is.”

Yorn said, lowering his “spear.” The golden oddball’s presence, if anything, helped steady him.

“You have other things to consider! Why is a Lagias unit here? What do you want?”

He was not merely trying to deflect blame. As a knight and soldier, he felt a real sense of crisis—about private soldiers, permitted only to protect their domains, standing this close to the capital.

“We are here by our lord’s command.”

“We know that! What is your lord plotting!?”

Hares heated up; Simon, head of the private guard, stayed cool—watching him with cold eyes.

“The Lagias Domain should have had little force, run by an incompetent lord. Yet now you wield this much… Are you planning a war!?”

Yorn agreed with Hares’s take on Lagias. He had said much the same to the masked man: whatever their aim, it could only be taken as hostile.

“We appreciate your help. But if you have no more business here, go back to your lands! You’ll only spark conflict!”

“…We cannot. It is not time yet.”

Hares fumed to no avail, and the others looked puzzled. Looking closely, Simon and the Lagias troops had not lowered their guard—as if to say the battle was not over.

“Simon-san, what do you mean?”

“Sir Luke, our lord does nothing wasteful. And if that lord is not present here…”

A bad feeling. Zeke was indeed an efficiency absolutist who hated waste. His friend would not keep the guard here for no reason.

A cry rose from the watching detachment. They turned their eyes—and saw—

“You’re all exhausted. Not noticing that many… really now.”

“Ridiculous—why are there still monsters…?”

A swarming host beyond all they had faced so far swept toward them—an inescapable black calamity to destroy everything.

“C-Commander Hares! Look at the monsters in front! That’s—”

“!? A Basilisk!? What is a poison dragon doing here… and that many…! It’s a rare and dangerous species!”

Luke’s face tensed. The poison dragon Basilisk was special to him—it had been the trigger for his recovery and how he met his close friend. His father had warned him of its danger again and again.

“The healers… have almost no mana left. Fighting without healers is suicide.”

“There are even dragons in the air… This is…”

They could see wyverns, a sub-drake variant. Multiple draconic breeds forming a single swarm should not happen. The impossible kept happening.

They lacked horses to pull back; they lacked the strength to run. And the monsters were far faster.

“Even if we run, they’ll head for the capital. Damn it! Our job is to stall them, is that it?”

Hares drew his sword. He never said it aloud, but he felt the weight of responsibility.

“Put the examinees on the horses and flee! Call for reinforcements!”

A subordinate begged him to flee together and was punched for it.

“I’ll fight as many times as it takes. That’s why I—”

Luke tried to gather mana, but his strength failed and he dropped to a knee. He was at his limit.

“What a cursed day. It’s been a while since I worked this hard.”

“That’s right! …Mr. Yorn, can we still have a session?”

“You ask the impossible.”

Yorn said, raising his staff.

“Let’s go!”

Cried the masked pervert, drawing his rapier. Knights and mages followed.

It had the look of an all-out fight, but the disparity was obvious. Humans were helpless before a raging storm.

“I’ll take the first attack—no, I’ll refrain.”

In a reversal from moments ago, the masked man sheathed his rapier, folded his arms, and nodded to himself.

“Have you actually gone mad? Counting as fighting strength… there’s only you, me, and a handful of others.”

“Can’t you hear it?”

The golden man cupped a hand to his ear and closed his eyes.

A flicker of resignation crossed Yorn’s mind—maybe this was the end. They really were oil and water, he thought.

“I can hear it… the footsteps of my friend—the devil.”

“What are you… eh?”

From far above, they felt mana of absurd, overwhelming scale—a brute force that erased raging storms.

“This is insane! Everyone down—raise barriers!”

Yorn poured all remaining mana into defensive magic. It was rare to see him this shaken—such was the scale of what was coming.

A massive meteor fell from the heavens.

It pierced the clouds and mirrored the sky.

The air was rent, and a thunderous roar rolled.

The monsters forgot their task and looked up.

Instinct revived emotions the light had numbed.

Fear of death froze their legs.

He called down a glacial starstone.

The shock of impact blasted monsters away; the wave of cold froze them and then scattered them to mist.

A magical violence showed no mercy to those who fled—shattering the land and luring all into a cold world of death.

“Icicle Meteor.”

People understood: disasters were terrifying precisely because they came without warning.

For a while they could not move, stunned by the impact and its aftermath. Even without taking a direct hit, maintaining the barrier took everything they had.

“What is this… Is this the same magic we use? No—it isn’t. This is pure violence.”

Yorn held the primary barrier, others feeding him power. Had they failed to endure, they would have shared the monsters’ fate.

If what Luke had brought was the light of hope, what this person brought was the darkness of despair.

Monsters died, humans feared. To those without strength, it was only something to dread.

What is different from oneself—that is frightening.

“What are you doing, Simon? How long will you keep me waiting?”

“Our apologies, Lord Zeke.”

The Lagias private soldiers bowed their heads. The one who appeared, walking forward at an unhurried pace, was a black-haired boy. His clothes were stained a dark, bloody red.

“Are you hurt?”

“If you truly think that, your condition is grave.”

It seemed he was stained by monsters’ blood. How many had he felled, to darken his garments so completely?

“Zeke… You came.”

“Hmph. I simply had business nearby. …It seems you’ve learned to fight a little.”

“Haha, I knew I couldn’t match you.”

Some were swallowed by fear, but others—like Luke—rejoiced in the reunion. Others watched with interest—or, in one case, struck a pose in a cracked mask.

“Quick question, Zeke. Those monsters—who sent them?”

“The same ones who stirred up the capital.”

Zeke said he had found similar magic circles deep in the Igza Plains. Unlike those in Spirito, these did not stay put, but changed positions as if moving. Random or controlled, he did not know, but there were multiple—of that he was certain.

“Then there’s no way to counter it.”

“But perhaps you can? …Well, it hasn’t been that long, has it?”

Yorn had spent his mana; his face was pale and strained.

“Pathetic. …Crouch there and wallow in your misery.”

“Shall I lend my strength, my comrade-in-arms?”

The golden costume had dulled, and half the mask was broken—yet the man’s presence did not fade. Perhaps it was an inborn talent.

“…What is that ridiculous getup? Don’t come near me, pervert.”

“My, my—no need to be so delighted.”

The masked degenerate hammed it up. He still looked to have strength left.

“Commander! Another monster horde is closing! What is happening!?”

“How should I know! But at this rate, we’re finished…”

There were even more than those just erased. As Hares said, it was endless.

“Stop screaming, inferiors. …If you don’t want to die, don’t move from there.”

Zeke stepped forward alone. The Lagias private guard followed—like retainers behind a king.

“You can’t mean to cast that spell again!? Everyone—clear the area!”

No one could obey Hares’s order. All were too exhausted to move—or had already given up.

“It seems not. …This may be more dangerous than before.”

Vast mana spread out from Zeke, engulfed the Lagias guard, and linked them one by one. The flows overlapped and formed a tremendous ring.

“A super big surprise… We are witnessing a new page of history.”

As if he had seized control of everything, the ring of mana Zeke had linked took on iridescent light.

“A Unison Link with fifty people!? That’s a deskbound fantasy—a child’s delusion. And yet—how…?”

“Hah. In every way, you and I are different—weakling. Start over from the nursery.”

A Unison Link became possible by perfectly matching different mana flows. If cooperative casting was addition, a Unison Link was multiplication—orders of magnitude greater in power, scope, and difficulty.

“So, you stoop to aping those beasts…? Ravage them—and make them understand. If they interfere, show no mercy.”

Simon and the private soldiers remembered three years ago—the battle on the Nordan Plains. The despairing rainbow light.

Now it was transformed—the guiding radiance of a king who led them.

If Luke repainted the world, Zeke shattered it and forged new law. That would be the end of their tale.

“Cold Realm Summoning.”

Within the target area, every concept ceased. Monsters, yes—but also wind, earth, light, darkness. Everything that contained mana froze equally.

The true end. Those who felt the end of the world had already been erased from this one.