104

“What exactly are you? The lord?”

Eleora tilted her head, puzzled.

The Order knew of his innate ability, the Azure Flame—but this was on an entirely different level from what they’d heard.

The same went for combat: he’d fought a super-class demon almost alone for a day, even driving it back at the start.

Everything exceeded their knowledge. Had the Eastern Order been hiding things? She couldn’t believe Hamel had grown this strong in only a year.

The questions only deepened her confusion.

‘Surely he wasn’t like this when he earned the title of Saint…’

Hamel, under Eleora’s scrutiny, continued polishing his sword in silence.

“As you know.”

“Yes?”

“The lord of Haidern. A priest of the Azure Flame. What more could there be?”

Hamel spoke with quiet conviction. He swore to God he had never acted shamefully.

“I only fulfill my honor and duty. In the name of Ehuurshika.”

“…I wasn’t really doubting you, Lord.”

Eleora pouted slightly at the stiff answer. She was surprised, impressed, and still unconvinced, but there was no mistaking Hamel’s goodness.

Eleora adjusted her posture and lowered her head. “Thank you, Lord.”

“For what?”

“For healing me. For saving me.”

“…It’s I who should apologize for dragging you into this.”

Originally Eleora had simply fallen into a trap meant for the demon. Hamel felt only sorry that she had been injured while helping with domain work without pay.

“I wasn’t merely dragged into it. This is my task as well.”

She answered resolutely and took Hamel’s hand. “Someday I’ll repay this debt for sure.”

“…First, we should resolve this situation.”

“Heh heh, that’s true.”

When Hamel casually withdrew his hand and changed the subject, she covered her mouth and laughed, but the deep dark circles and haggard face were not easily hidden. She had been pushed to her physical and mental limits.

Hamel stopped polishing and shifted his tone.

“How long can it be maintained?”

“…If you mean the Winter Palace—at most three hours from now. Anything more would be impossible.”

Shorter than expected. There wouldn’t even be enough time to fully restore her body.

Still, “It’s doable.”

Hamel nodded as if it posed no problem.

“…?”

“…?”

Eleora and Ono both asked at once, surprised by his reaction.

“Is there a way?”

Hamel met Ono’s question with a nod. “There are things worth trying. Two options.”

Not one, but two. Both of them brightened at the news, but Hamel hesitated; the truth he was about to give wasn’t comforting.

“The super-class demon Lamia. Eleora, what do you know of it?”

“Hmm—the Order hasn’t identified much. That’s generally how super-classes are.”

The label applied only to unique entities the Order couldn’t kill. Unless they had been nearly destroyed, their weaknesses remained unknown.

Lamia’s traits were rapid wound restoration, a preference for caverns and quick surface movement, and—disturbingly—a habit of eating boys. Eleora had no concrete weakness to offer.

“If it’s Ono, though, it might be different.”

“You… that is—”

Ono’s expression hardened. The ancient god he bore, the Root of All Wisdom, was a secret like Hamel’s dragonian nature. But this wasn’t the time for concealment.

So Ono sighed, rolled up his sleeve, and flared light from his palm—the mark of the Golden Tree burning in gold.

Eleora’s eyes widened. “That’s… the Root of All Wisdom, one of the royal family’s treasures lost long ago…”

“…You know this?”

“No, not well. Only that the royal family once possessed it and it was long sought after…”

He was hearing much of this for the first time too, but now they had to be careful.

“Please keep this a secret.”

“…Of course.”

Hamel returned to business. “This is the first method I mentioned. If we’re lucky, we might learn the creature’s weakness.”

Hamel and Eleora had been beaten by Lamia largely because of an information gap. Lamia had known more about them than they did about it; closing that gap could change everything.

Eleora understood and asked, “Then what’s the other one?”

“The other is to retrieve the flask Lamia stole from me.”

“…A flask? What was in it?”

“Dragon’s blood.”

“…Why that? Dragon’s blood is extremely toxic, but it wouldn’t affect a demon… would it—”

“No. I’ll drink it.”

“…?!”

“If I drink the dragon’s blood, I might be able to kill it.”

It made grim sense. Hamel had driven Lamia to the brink—he’d severed its head—but couldn’t overcome its regeneration. Overwhelming that regeneration with sheer force was one method. Without dragon’s blood, Hamel could only draw power to the point where scales began to sprout—call it Transformation Stage One. With dragon’s blood, he could push beyond that—to the armored dragonian form that slew the revived dragon Karaksis, Lord of the Bitter Cold.

“If you ask why… it’s because I’m a dragonian.”

Eleora’s mouth hung open. Her face went pale as if carved from stone.

Hamel added casually, “Ah, and of course I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this secret too.”

“…Yes. Understood.”

Eleora merely nodded, dazed.

“Found it.”

Ono, who had closed his eyes in concentration, spoke. His face was pale and cold sweat streamed down. Their opponent was a super-class demon; its weakness had been unknown to humans until now, and Ono had paid a heavy price to find it.

“Are you all right?”

“…Done. But this is worse.”

“Is there perhaps no weakness?”

“No, there is, but… it’s dangerous.”

When Ono hesitated, Hamel cut in. “It doesn’t matter.”

“…I hesitated because I thought you’d say that. Tch.”

Ono clicked his tongue and approached Eleora and Hamel.

“Lamia’s regeneration isn’t infinite. It needs to rest to recover strength.”

“A rest… so that’s why it returned to its lair instead of attacking the village?”

“Right. When Lamia uses up a certain amount of regeneration, it rests by removing its eyes. It ‘rests’ that way instead of sleeping. In any case, during that time its regeneration is significantly weakened.”

“That means…”

“It means we must sneak into the place where it rests—either steal the removed eyeballs or retrieve the stolen dragon’s blood.”

“….”

“Another thing to be careful of is its removed pupils.”

“Why the pupils?”

As Eleora interjected, Ono groaned. “When it rests, its body is half-asleep, but not its eyes. They reportedly keep watch without rest.”

“What do you mean by that?”

It sounded simple in words, but the reality was harsh. They would have to grope through a dark, complex cave system. Torches were out if they were to avoid its eyes. Even with Hamel’s tracking, slipping in would be difficult. And that was the very lair the creature had taken refuge in—if it noticed them, escape would be unlikely.

Eleora raised her hand. “I’ll do it. If I follow the scent, it should be possible.”

Hamel, who had been hesitating, nodded at her. “Very well. But I’ll come with you.”

“…Lord. Surely you don’t distrust me?”

She looked at him with displeasure; he shook his head. He worried about her exhaustion, but he did not distrust her.

“If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t come along at all.”

“That’s fine then.”

Eleora smiled lightly and stepped back at his frank answer.

Ono watched Hamel intently, waiting for his words. It seemed madness, but with Hamel it felt worth trying.

Hamel continued, “Ono…”

“Yes, I can go.”

“What? No. Just stay here.”

“…Huh?”

Ono blinked at the unexpected reply. Why wasn’t he coming?

After a moment Ono sensed his own condition. Using the Root of All Wisdom had left him drained; he might cause worry. He cleared his throat. “I am tired, but not to the point you’ll have to worry.”

“No. Ono, please stay here and draw out your power to the fullest.”

Ono stiffened at Hamel’s words.

“In the Empire’s east there’s a proverb: ‘sound in the east, strike in the west.’ It means make noise here while hitting over there. In other words…”

“You’re telling me to act the clown here and draw its attention, aren’t you?”

“Exactly.”

Hamel nodded. The more Ono drew attention, the easier Hamel and Eleora’s intrusion would be.

Ono ground his teeth. “Alright. Don’t worry. I’ll rampage spectacularly. So you make sure you come back alive.”

‘…Why did he suddenly get so emotional?’

Hamel simply nodded. “…Yes, understood.”

Eleora could barely suppress a laugh.

Hamel tilted his head for a moment, then said, “If we’re striking, it’s now.”

Lamia believed the Winter Palace would last about half a day more. It wouldn’t suspect that a thoroughly exhausted Hamel would force a fight immediately. It must be resting deeply by now.

The most important thing in battle is to establish a tempo favorable to oneself. If you strike a complacent opponent’s weakness, even an unwinnable fight can be won.

One hour remained until the Winter Palace lifted. They would settle it within that time.

“Prepare.”

At Hamel’s command, the two hardened their expressions and nodded. There would be no second chance.

An arrow once loosed does not stop but flies on until it pierces its target’s heart.

They had taken enough blows. Now…

It was time to counterattack.