Episode 22

After the blinding light—so bright you’d want to turn away—finally faded, what came into view was Rovinz collapsed on the ground, and Luke sheathing his sword.

“It’s over. Surrender quietly.”

“…You’re a crafty one. Were you hiding your power?”

Rovinz’s fusion with the monster had undone, returning him to his original form. The arm Brink had severed was still gone.

“I don’t know anything. Not about this ‘key’ you keep talking about, either. That’s why you’re going to tell us everything.”

Luke fixed Rovinz with a straight, unwavering gaze. There was no hesitation in those strong eyes.

“Every last ‘key’ bearer… is a troublesome lot. So that’s why you had a substitute plan…”

“…That ‘substitute plan’ came up in the reports too, didn’t it? Fine. I’m restraining you now.”

Yorn bound Rovinz with a rope conjured by magic. The rope writhed outward, wrapping him up and linking the bindings like a chain.

“Looks like things have settled down over there too.”

A signal came from Strohk, who was positioned at a distance. The bare minimum treatment must have finished. Seeing that, Luke finally felt a breath of relief.

“Regimental Commander Yorn. That stake… was it like th—like that from the start?”

Brink’s gaze was locked on the massive stake driven into the earth. The same crest-like spell pattern that had appeared on Rovinz floated across it, and it still continued to emit an eerie glow.

“Sharp, as expected. But you’re too late.”

A violent tremor erupted around the stake.

With the shaking, the stake began to pulse and flicker; the spell pattern on its surface spread outward into the ground.

“This is… headed outside?”

The pattern crawled along the earth, splitting into two paths and pushing beyond the vine-covered space.

“I can’t understand why you didn’t kill me. That softness will become your sin someday.”

“You—what did you do!?”

Rovinz was breathing hard.

Using power like this must cost a great deal of stamina—blood seeped from all over his body.

“I scattered the magic circles Pariach created. The same kind that appeared on the outskirts of the capital two years ago.”

“The outskirts… you mean the entrance exam incident!?”

A devilish type of magic circle—appearing at random, continuously summoning monsters. Rovinz explained he had planted them to the east and west of the forest.

“Even if you erase the circles, it’s pointless. The effect persists until it expires.”

“…So you’re planning to hammer us like trapped rats?”

“No. The monsters are being controlled to attack more humans. …What was the nearest town from here again?”

Rovinz spoke with a smug, innocent air, a small smile at the corner of his mouth.

“Westen, where we stopped… and Osten on the other side of the forest. …Why would you people do something like this?”

“The power of spirits—of gods—is absolute. But if there are too many targets, there’s a risk of malfunction. …Trash should be cleaned up, shouldn’t it?”

“Luke, this is a waste of time. What he’s saying doesn’t seem like a lie. There are a lot of monsters—and they’re all charging toward the towns at once.”

Brink searched with detection magic, his expression hard.

“Pariach… that guy really is nasty. So what now? You can’t save both from here!”

“Tch—Strohk! You heard all that! We’re leaving immediately. How are the two!?”

“They’re not in immediate danger. But they can’t move right away. Those two stay put.”

The stake’s flickering light died away, its color draining.

Then—crack—the spell pattern shattered and collapsed.

“…Ghah! So my life too… is running out…”

As if linked to the stake, the pattern on Rovinz vanished as well.

“…Any intention of leaving us something useful before you go?”

“I’m only… disappearing temporarily. If the world… rewinds, then again…”

Those were his final words. Rovinz never opened his mouth again.

“It’s started.”

A strange presence surged through the forest, and the ground trembled with heavy vibrations. The monsters’ advance had begun.

“Running with your tail between your legs? Pathetic.”

At the same time as the abnormality, Dex and Feluart were wrapped in a geometric spell pattern. It resembled the one Pariach had used at the Falsh ruins site.

“Say what you want. This result was bought with comrades’ lives. We will open the gate—”

Dex vanished mid-sentence, taking Feluart with him.

“…Idiots. If you die, that’s the end.”

Zeke moved on, heading west through the forest.

“He’s dead already. No need to keep watch.”

“Yeah. …Skinny and Nahal stay behind. Everyone else, we’re moving out. Follow!”

With Strohk leading, Brink, Luke, and Yorn sprinted after him. Once they escaped the massive vine-formed chamber, the forest felt loud in both directions—east and west.

“Judging by the sound, they’re plowing through the trees as they move.”

“Seems so. …We’ll need transportation.”

“We rode in on four horses. If they weren’t dragged into this, we’ll use them.”

From the detection results, it was clear the faster monsters were rapidly pulling away. The horde split almost evenly, advancing east and west at nearly the same speed—toward Osten in the east, and Westen in the west.

“This is my fault. If I had… finished him…”

“…Luke. We don’t have time to comfort you. Move your head and your body.”

“Even if you feel responsible, it changes nothing. No matter who stood where, the result would’ve been the same. —Now then, which town do we choose?”

As Yorn said, they had to choose. Which town to save—and which to abandon.

“…To strike the monsters pouring out of the magic circles—”

“And where are those circles in a forest this big? Chasing them down by guessing from detection updates is nonsense. Besides… a lot of monsters are already headed for the towns.”

Yorn stared toward the west, his expression faintly sorrowful.

“We need to chase the advance and warn the towns as fast as possible. We’re only four, so splitting up is off the table. Either way, the monsters are faster. Our job is to reduce the damage as much as we can.”

“It’s optimistic, but we have to rely on the towns’ soldiers. We’ll keep fighting until the circles’ effects expire… What a truly vile tactic.”

Their options were limited: pick one town, rush to reinforce it, slow the monsters on the way, and merge into the defensive line.

“We go to Westen. If conditions are equal, we choose the town Luke’s squad already visited. —I’ll take full responsibility.”

Brink declared it firmly.

Someone had to bear responsibility. Everyone understood that.

“No, Regimental Commander Brink. …We should go to Osten.”

Yorn stopped him.

“Before we came here, I already warned the branch personnel. That an advance might happen depending on the situation.”

Based on Luke’s squad’s findings, Yorn had predicted a dungeon’s emergence. In the worst case, a dungeon out could cause monsters to flood out, so he had reported that possibility to the branch.

“Yorn… Westen is your—”

“Yeah. That’s why they listened, at least a little. But Osten isn’t. They probably haven’t prepared anything.”

Setting a defensive line against a monster assault takes time. A normal city might manage it—but the towns around here didn’t have that luxury.

“The price of getting soft in peacetime, I guess. —Alright, let’s move.”

Yorn cast support magic on everyone, then bolted for the forest exit. The others had no choice but to chase his back.

Westen—one of the regional towns far from the royal capital.

It sat well away from the border, suffering only minor monster damage each year. In other words, war was something that barely touched the lives of its residents, and their sense of crisis was not particularly high.

And yet—those residents now stood armed, bracing to defend their town. Only because the regimental commander of the mage corps had warned them.

Yorn Grin, born in Westen.

A master who wielded diverse magic, hailed as “post-sage” in terms of capability. Usually he was breezy and nonchalant—his careless attitude was famous, for better or worse.

“I think you got the report from Luke’s squad… There might be a monster attack. Gather troops and set a defensive line.”

Yorn, whose flippant behavior was well-known, had left that warning with a seriousness that felt out of place. The townspeople were suspicious—but sensing something different in his demeanor, they gathered soldiers.

“Nothing’s… happening.”

“Yeah. Maybe His Excellency just played us.”

People from Westen who knew him well despite differences in rank had waited outside the town after trusting the warning—yet nothing occurred. Less than half the town’s soldiers had assembled, but the central figure among them thought privately that it was still impressive for this place.

“That bastard. If nothing happens, I’m billing him for drinks.”

“Now that’s a plan. Booze tastes better when you can say, ‘Nothing happened,’ and relax.”

Their tension thinned, and the soldiers drifted into small talk.

They weren’t like the knights or mages of the capital, with high training and discipline. Nor were they hardened border troops living by constant readiness. Expecting battlefield performance from men who almost never fought was asking too much.

“One more hour. If nothing happens by then, we pull out.”

“Huh? Forget it. This is a waste of time.”

Complaints rose. Some even sat down on the ground to rest.

“Can’t help it. Orders from above. …Hm? What’s that…?”

A soldier stared ahead. Beyond the straight horizon line, something like a haze of dust was drifting.

“Wind? Hey—what about detection?”

Prodded, a soldier reluctantly cast detection magic. His lack of motivation was painfully obvious.

“…Huh? …!? W-what is that!? What the hell is going on!?”

“What are you saying? Explain it clea—”

The dust on the plain transformed into a black, raging tide.

No detection, no scanning, no magic was needed. The threat was obvious to the naked eye.

“No way… that’s monsters?”

“All of them…?”

A storm-wave of calamity surged straight toward Westen. Even soldiers unfamiliar with battle understood instantly: with that number, even if the entire town fought, they’d be swallowed whole.

“Go. Tell them now. Evacuate the residents—…though it won’t be in time.”

“Screw that bastard! A defensive line is impossible!”

One soldier sprinted to warn the town. Others rushed to gear up. Mages began preparing spells.

But they shared one thing: each man was being swallowed by fear, tipping into panic.

“What do we do about this!?”

“How should I know!? Pick—fight or run!”

The distant shapes of the horde sharpened into clear view. They were moving fast.

“Damn, they’re already that close… Hm? What’s that—someone?”

A silhouette had appeared on the horde’s path, out in front of the soldiers.

A lone man in aristocratic attire stood there.

“Hey! What are you doing!? Run!”

A soldier shouted at full volume, but the young man didn’t react. He ignored the voice and simply looked toward the monsters.

“Hmph. This feels familiar.”

No one heard his mutter. No one needed to.

He wanted only one thing: results.

“Ice Eisen.”

By the spell’s effect, an icy ground spread outward before Zeke. The earth froze at a speed that did not lose to the monsters’ advance. When Hiroto first saw magic, he’d thought it looked like a silver rink that shouldn’t exist in this world.

The monsters couldn’t respond to the sudden ice and slipped, tumbling.

One fell, then another, then another—spreading like a contagion. Those behind crashed into the fallen ones, dragging even more down with them.

The opening move produced exactly the result Hiroto intended. If there had been flying monsters, the outcome would have been different—but the source was deep in the forest. In a space buried under trees, it was unlikely someone would bother summoning aerial monsters. This tactic was only possible because he knew what was coming.

“Tch. Dirty little trick. That kid’s doing?”

The first move worked as a delay, not a solution. Large monsters from the back trampled over the fallen, their weight cracking the “silver” surface as they pushed forward.

He had expected that. What Hiroto focused on instead was the crushed dead monsters.

“Monsters summoning monsters. Well designed.”

A spell pattern appeared on the dead. It projected into the air, becoming a magic circle that summoned new monsters—winged, mobile, avian creatures.

“Ice Javelin.”

Without pause, he hurled an ice spear, shooting the avian monster down.

No magic circle formed from its corpse.

So if he killed the incoming horde—and also killed every newly summoned monster one-for-one—then the problem would be solved.

A perfectly simple solution came to mind. Only that. Nothing else.

“Damn it. There are too many…”

Zeke glanced back.

Armed soldiers stood far behind him. He’d never seen their faces, never spoken to them, had no connection whatsoever. So-called “mob characters” who didn’t even appear in the original story.

“Icicle Ray!”

Zeke alone stood as the final defensive line. If this line broke, the town behind him was finished. Even if they escaped, they’d lose their home, their work, their place to belong. In this world where lives were cheap, it was the same as a death sentence. Nothing here was like his old world.

“Frozen Geyser!”

He didn’t understand why he was doing this alone.

If Westen’s people died, it wouldn’t affect the scenario at all. It had nothing to do with Hiroto’s purpose. Abandoning them wouldn’t make him guilty of anything.

And yet his body kept moving. It moved anyway. He didn’t… understand the meaning.

“Ice Explosion!”

On the far side of the forest, Osten likely faced the same crisis. Countless equally “worthless” people lived there too. And a main character would be there, trying to save them.

If he thought about future positioning, he should abandon meaningless lives and lend a hand to the main characters. Some lives mattered more than others.

So his correct action should already be decided.

And yet—

“Delta Storm!”

There had been a boy who said he wanted to become a knight.

There had been a boy who wouldn’t take no for an answer about adventuring together.

There had been a knight who declared he’d change the system.

All worthless memories. Events unnecessary for survival. Unneeded trash. A stupid daily life.

“Thousand Sword!”

He didn’t need to show his face. Just mechanically process the monsters on this side, then leave the kingdom and break away from the scenario. That was fine. It had to be fine.

Even if he abandoned everyone behind him.

“Don’t get it twisted. I’m—”

A massive ogre clambered over the pile of monster corpses and charged him. Nearly twice the size of a normal one, the great demon raised its fist to smash down on Zeke.

The soldiers behind him held their breath. A graze would cripple; a direct hit would kill. Everyone imagined the end—

But a different ending came instead.

Arms, legs, head—everything was carved apart and severed. Blood sprayed, raining red across the area.

Zeke stood there with sword drawn.

“I haven’t fallen so far that I’d let myself be disappointed by trash I don’t even know.”

He wrapped his whole body in a barrier of mana. The blue glow clinging to him shone like a meteor falling from the sky.

Zeke charged alone into the tide of calamity—

Confused by the first emotion he’d ever felt: fighting to protect someone.