Two full days due north-northeast from the magic city Sharia.
There, an abandoned village lay hidden.
The village was buried in forest.
Forty years ago, an anomalous magical disaster had caused the forest to swell out of control. In the blink of an eye, the village was consumed, and the people who had lived there were forced to relocate.
Since then, the only visitors to this abandoned village were the monsters dwelling in the forest, or adventurers who had business with those monsters.
Toward that village, a man was walking.
Silver hair. Golden eyes.
He wore a white coat made from some kind of hide, scanning his surroundings with unwavering vigilance. He rode no horse, took no carriage — he simply walked.
With sharp, upward-slanting eyes, he checked the compass-like device in his left hand as he moved through the forest with an air of detached calm.
No monsters attacked him.
Deep in the forest, from gaps between the undergrowth, eyes gleamed with fierce light — but the moment the man drew near, they scattered like small animals.
"...Here?"
He spotted the abandoned village in the direction the compass pointed and came to a stop.
"Why is it in a place like this..."
He muttered to himself as he slowly set foot into the village.
What had once been roads was now choked with weeds. What had once been fields had become groves.
Buildings that had once been homes were now pierced through by massive trees, or had been transformed into green lumps by clinging vines.
Walking through the forest-consumed village, he stopped before one particular spot.
The center of the village, where there had probably once been a well.
There, a blatantly suspicious building stood.
It was brown, cylindrical, and notably, not a single plant clung to it.
A stone structure that could only have been built recently.
Its door looked brand new.
He checked the compass in his left hand and confirmed that his destination was this tower.
Then, with a measure of caution, he reached for the doorknob.
"...Seven Star, are you in there?"
The interior of the tower was spartan.
No windows. No corridor.
The floor was slick — coated with something that looked like oil.
Along the walls sat burlap sacks stuffed to bursting with some unknown material, along with incense-burner-like objects.
A strange smell permeated the air, likely from whatever was being burned in those censers.
"What is this place?"
He looked around, then confirmed another door directly ahead.
Same as before, but without hesitation, he grabbed the doorknob.
The instant he did, a pricking sensation, as if something had stabbed him, shot through his hand.
"Hm? My imagination?"
He checked his hand, confirmed that not a single drop of blood had appeared, and stepped inside.
Beyond the door lay a room with the same layout.
The floor was tilted — it seemed the structure itself had been built underground.
Despite his unease, he pressed onward without particular vigilance.
Signs along the way — "Please remove your footwear here" and "Honored guests, please don this hat" — only heightened his wariness, but he ignored them all.
He kept an eye out for the occasional trivial trap on the doors — the kind you'd use to catch mice — and advanced slowly.
The space he eventually arrived at was peculiar.
A cylindrical room, open to the sky.
In place of a ceiling, a perfect circle of open sky had been cut out above him.
It felt as though he were standing inside a chimney.
"What is this place?"
He furrowed his brow in suspicion but confirmed that his compass pointed toward the center of this space.
There, a small box sat waiting.
Beneath the box, a piece of paper had been laid out.
He approached carefully and read the paper.
On it was written a single word:
*Human-God*
He immediately picked up the box and opened it.
"Hm?!"
Thick smoke billowed out of the box in billowing clouds.
He dropped the box and braced himself — and in that moment, his ears caught a sharp metallic *ping*.
Right beside the box, which continued to spew what seemed like an impossible volume of smoke, a silver ring lay on the ground.
Whatever had been inside the box had been launched out when it was dropped.
The ring flickered with a faint red glow, and his compass pointed directly at it.
"...Seven Star?"
The instant he reached to pick up the ring —
The sky blazed with light.
"—!"
He kicked off the ground with all his strength, trying to dodge.
But the oil-coated floor wouldn't allow it.
His feet lost their grip in an instant —
A thick bolt of lightning struck down at Orsted.
--- Rudeus's Perspective ---
On a ridge overlooking the abandoned village where Orsted had been lured.
I had been camping there, and the moment I saw smoke rise, I slammed my full-power [Lightning Magic] down on the target location.
It should have hit.
I'd practiced this countless times for today.
I'd even gone so far as to spread rapeseed oil on the floor to prevent him from dodging at the last second.
But this couldn't be the end of it.
If someone like this could be defeated, people wouldn't call him the strongest, above Laplace and everyone else.
I planted my staff into the ground and channeled magic into it.
What I visualized: a colossal storm cloud. A supercell.
Holy-tier Water Magic: [Cumulonimbus].
The sky was swallowed by black clouds in an instant, and torrential rain began to fall alongside lightning.
I channeled even more magic.
I didn't resist the sensation of magic being dragged from the very depths of my body, feeding it into my staff.
What I visualized: ice.
At the center of the abandoned village — halt the movement of every molecule.
Relentlessly drive down the temperature.
[Frost Nova].
I unleashed this spell I'd cast so many times, at maximum range, with maximum power.
The pouring rain froze upon itself, one layer after another.
The ice grew, layering upward, becoming enormous.
Once it had reached the size of an iceberg, I stopped the spell.
Next move.
I channeled magic into my staff.
Above the abandoned village, I created a boulder.
Pouring magic solely into its size, I built a rock so massive it could not be avoided — then accelerated it straight downward and launched it.
The boulder descended at a speed so great it seemed to have teleported.
The ground shook.
A split second later, a deafening crack echoed in my ears.
A split second after that, the gust and the shockwave arrived.
Shielding my eyes with my arm, I watched where the boulder had struck.
The ice had shattered. Two-thirds of the boulder was buried in the ground.
If a direct hit had landed, he couldn't possibly survive...
"...Did I get him?"
I said it anyway, just in case.
No response.
Was it over?
If so, that'd be fine, it'd be easy —
But in the very next instant, the boulder cracked apart.
"Hyihh!"
An incomprehensibly terrifying killing intent washed over me.
Chills raced up my spine.
My legs trembled violently. Tears welled in my eyes.
I threw myself into the magical armor waiting beside me.
Following the procedure I'd practiced hundreds of times, I fed magic into every section, stabilized my posture, and gripped my staff.
I could feel the killing intent drawing closer.
Activation complete.
I channeled magic into the staff in my right hand, preparing to add one more strike.
What I visualized: a nuclear detonation.
Pouring in every last drop of magic, I drove it from my arm into my staff.
The moment I aimed and fired the spell, I simultaneously raised my left hand and channeled magic into the mana-draining stone.
The center of the abandoned village blazed white-hot.
A split second later, a wave of searing heat swept across the ground like a tongue of flame.
I caught it in the corner of my vision — trees being blasted away, reduced to black shadows.
A split second later, the blast wind arrived.
But this magical armor, forged by my own magic, weighed several tons.
It didn't so much as flinch against the blast.
I waited for the destruction to subside, then lowered my hand.
A colossal mushroom cloud had formed above the abandoned village.
The ground below was hidden by smoke, but I had poured in enough power to obliterate everything.
This would have been among the most devastating attacks I had ever unleashed.
"...And yet."
And yet — the trembling wouldn't stop.
The source of that killing intent, which had been drawing overwhelmingly closer, had not vanished.
It was closing in at a terrifying speed.
He'd been so far away, and now he was already this close.
I clenched my teeth as they chattered. I squeezed my trembling hands into fists, sheathed my staff in the back-mounted holder, slung the gatling gun onto my right arm, and raised a shield in my left.
"Hah... hah... hhh..."
One deep breath.
My throat trembled.
Suppressing the dread and terror surging from the pit of my stomach, I leveled the gatling gun in my right hand toward the billowing smoke.
"...Hah! Hah!"
I had to take the initiative.
If I let him take the lead, I would lose for certain.
But first — had I even dealt any damage?
The poison I'd rigged on the door, the narcotics I'd burned, the traps I'd laid along the way — had any of them worked?
The four attack spells I'd just unleashed were packed with as much mana as I could put in.
If he was completely unscathed by all that, then this gatling-gun copycat magic tool wouldn't so much as scratch him, would it?
No — the real question was whether any of them had even hit.
There was no way they hadn't. I'd fired into such an enormous area.
I'd pushed both power and range to the absolute maximum to guarantee he couldn't dodge.
From a distance so great that even my Foresight Eye couldn't see him.
Even if Orsted possessed every kind of magical eye, the attack had come from a position he couldn't possibly predict.
<A shadow is visible>
"RIIIPPPP THROOOUUUGH!!"
I screamed and activated the gatling gun in my right hand.
Magic flowed through it. Rock shells were generated and fired at tremendous speed.
The sharp, whining sound of rock shells splitting the air rang out in rapid succession, a sound like shrieking echoing all around.
Massive rock fragments, traveling at overwhelming velocity, blew away the clouds of dust and debris.
I spotted him — a silver-haired man in a tattered cloak, his face blackened with soot.
Was he damaged?
Was he not?
Blood trickled from around his jaw.
Was that a burn on his neck?
It was fine. Minor, but I had definitely dealt some damage.
"—!"
Our eyes met.
Those hawk-sharp eyes locked onto me with absolute certainty.
The gaze of a hunter who had found his prey.
<He attempts to dodge the rain of rock shells with sidesteps>
I pushed my Foresight Eye to its absolute limit, trying to read Orsted's movements.
His speed was tremendous — he blurred into multiple overlapping afterimages.
I shifted the gatling's aim to cut off his escape routes.
The time lag between firing and impact was virtually zero.
And yet Orsted dodged every shot as though he could see the firing lines, closing the distance to me all the while.
One step. Two steps.
His raptor-like expression unchanged, he steadily narrowed the gap.
Occasionally a rock shell would graze him, making him wince — but that was all.
As if to say that even a direct hit wouldn't be fatal. As if to say that fear was something entirely foreign to him. As if to say that this was the kind of attack he always fought against.
I was different.
That zombie-like, emotionless fighting stance sent a chill through me.
His movements screamed that all my attacks were wasted — and my resolve was beginning to crack.
But for now, I still had the advantage.
Yes — I told myself that, matching his footwork step for step.
When he moved forward to the right, I retreated to the left-rear.
When he moved forward to the left, I retreated to the right-rear.
When he charged straight ahead, I riddled him with the gatling.
When he backed away, I riddled him with the gatling.
This way, he could never close the distance — not for the rest of eternity.
The battle was progressing at a completely advantageous position for me.
Just as I'd simulated.
To tighten the noose further, I cast a spell with my left hand.
The target: the ground beneath both Orsted and myself.
The spell: mud.
The instant I completed the incantation and reached to activate it —
Orsted, too, had his left hand aimed toward me.
"Disrupt Magic!"
My completed magic was thrown into chaos by another magic.
Meaningful mana was being transformed into meaningless residue.
"Damn it!"
I forced the mud spell through regardless.
I could do that.
I'd been practicing it for so long.
Teaching Sylphie Disrupt Magic while simultaneously learning to counter it myself, all while completing the spell.
Perhaps everything I'd done — all those drills, all that training — had been for this day, this moment, this very instant.
Orsted's eyes widened.
Was this the first time someone had resisted his Disrupt Magic... — w-whoa.
The instant the ground beneath Orsted turned to mud,
He countered by casting his own spell over it.
He covered the muddied section with a plate of earth.
And then he aimed his right hand at me.
I fluidly moved to cast Disrupt Magic at that right hand —
<Light filled my entire field of vision>
A chill ran through me.
I stopped the gatling and hurled myself sideways.
Outside the blinding light, I caught a glimpse of the ground where Orsted had aimed — a massive crater.
I hadn't seen what spell that was.
Fire?
Or something else — could it have been gravity?
What I'd just witnessed wasn't light — it was...
death.
There was no time to think.
Orsted was charging toward me, hand raised.
Disrupt Magic was useless.
He could negate Disrupt Magic as well.
I activated both my left and right hands simultaneously.
Suppress him with the gatling while nullifying his magic with the mana-draining stone.
That was the plan — both aimed at him —
I realized my mistake.
Orsted's magic vanished.
But at the same time, the barrage of rock shells heading for Orsted also lost its power, scattering like grains of sand and disappearing.
Orsted closed to melee range.
Right hand still aimed at me, left hand cocked at his waist, he swung a devastating blow at my heart.
"—!"
Instinct chose full-power evasion.
The direction to flee was straight backward — I tried to spring back with both feet —
I wasn't fast enough.
Orsted's fist slammed into my chest.
A dull *guin* rang out, and Orsted rocketed away from me at tremendous speed.
Behind me, a tremendous *bang* echoed, and I caught sight of trees scattering in the corner of my vision.
*(So this is what it feels like to be sent flying)*
That thought had barely formed when I slammed into a massive tree and my flight was halted.
Simultaneously, G-forces crushed my entire body, and my organs screamed as if being torn apart.
My vision went dark for a moment, but I recovered quickly.
Cliff's magic circle, integrated into the magical armor, had healed me instantly.
But then I looked at my chest.
There, the chest plate was dented inward and cracked.
The cracks were slowly mending, but slowly.
At any rate, I'd survived the hit.
I was so glad I'd made this section of armor extra thick.
Killing intent was closing in.
Head-on — he was coming in for the kill, in a straight line.
I activated the gatling gun.
A barrage opened up toward Orsted.
But Orsted once again aimed his right hand at me.
No good — this would just be a repeat of before.
One hit had already wrecked the armor like this.
If he landed a few more, eventually the armor would be pierced.
What to do.
Magic was useless.
Even if I sealed his Disrupt Magic, Orsted possessed resistance techniques like those of Moore.
Meanwhile, I had no idea what his magic even was.
Perhaps the long-range fight was disadvantageous for me?
Then I'd close in.
I'd believe in the power of my magical armor and punch his face in.
"URRRRAAAHHH!"
"Hyuh!"
With the gatling laying down covering fire, I screamed and charged.
Orsted pulled his right hand back and settled into a stance.
Both his feet moved.
I raised the shield on my left and launched myself at him body and all, like a battering ram.
<Orsted assumes the Water God Style stance>
The instant my Foresight Eye caught it, I angled the point of my shield toward Orsted.
Like driving a sword — one whose power increased the higher the target's defenses — directly into him.
We collided with a tremendous, resonant *gwoonn*.
The sensation of slamming into something incredibly heavy lingered, and Orsted was sent flying backward.
Hanging in midair, blood spraying from his arms, Orsted stared at me with a look of utter contempt.
I could do this.
I immediately aimed the gatling, locked on, and fired.
A massive volley of rock shells flew out and struck Orsted in midair.
His clothes were shredded. Beneath them, a battered body emerged.
Scorch marks, cuts, abrasions — all over.
More rock shells punched in, and fresh blood sprayed.
Orsted crashed to the ground with a heavy *thud*.
I could do this.
I could kill him.
The rock shells, on direct hits, were dealing real damage.
His skin deflected them, yes — but the skin split, and blood came out.
If that was the case, he'd die eventually.
Before that happened, I needed to deal as much damage as I could —
"...I suppose I have no choice."
That voice came from within the sound of rock shells splitting the air.
In that instant —
The air changed.
A wave of cold so sudden it felt like winter had arrived in a heartbeat raced through my body.
At the same time, my Foresight Eye lost track of Orsted.
My other eye still had him.
How could that —
My other eye lost him too.
"—!"
An indescribable terror seized me, and I twisted my body and leapt to the right.
A metallic *ping* sounded from my left arm.
When I turned to look, Orsted was there.
In the posture of having just swung a blade like a sword, he was there.
And my magical armor's left arm, showing a clean, sharp cut surface, crashed to the ground with a heavy *don*.
---
"GRAAAAAAAHHH!!"
Orsted let out a roar.
A vibrating, electric roar that numbed my body as though I'd been struck by paralysis.
A vocal spell.
An innate magic of the Beast Race.
My consciousness nearly flickered out.
But I held on at the last moment and threw myself sideways.
Orsted cratered the ground, lunged forward, and charged.
I aimed the gatling gun and tried to activate it — but Orsted swung his sword.
The gatling was sliced clean through. The magic tool broke apart and clattered to the ground.
My right arm was still intact.
The armor plate bore slash marks, but it hadn't been cut through at that distance.
Orsted was right in front of me.
Still in the posture from his slash.
I poured magic into my fist.
No holding back.
While unleashing [Electric Shock], I drove my fist toward Orsted's face.
A slippery, sliding sensation lingered.
Looking down, I saw that Orsted's blade had been laid alongside my arm.
He'd deflected it.
My fist — and the Electric Shock riding on it.
Behind Orsted, purple lightning licked across the forest.
With a deafening crack and a blast of flame, a massive tree split in two.
Orsted's arm — the sword pressed against my arm — moved. Just slightly.
"Uwahh?!—"
My right arm — my real arm inside it — was sliced off.
Agony tore through me.
But I didn't have time to grimace.
Orsted, still in his follow-through stance, closed on me in melee range.
There was no time to launch my next attack.
A kick slammed into my stomach.
A sickening *crack* rang out, and my body lifted ever so slightly off the ground.
The impact hit everything inside.
"Blrghh!"
An impact like my stomach had ruptured sent gastric fluid spewing from my mouth.
My vision blurred with tears.
As I fell onto my backside, I aimed my severed right arm at Orsted and fired a shockwave.
Orsted flicked his blade upward.
A massive *don* echoed — and that was it.
The moment I realized he'd cut the shockwave in half, his boot was already slamming into my face.
A grinding *crrk* sound came from my neck, and searing pain ran from my neck to my shoulder.
"...!?"
When I came to, I'd been knocked flat.
I pushed myself upright and scrambled to my feet — and standing directly before me was Orsted with his sword raised overhead.
I'm dead.
"JETTISON!"
By the time I realized it, I was already screaming.
Simultaneously, the back armor plate blew off, and the force of it dragged me out of the magical armor.
A split second later, the magical armor was sliced cleanly in two.
I was slammed into the ground and rolled.
I couldn't follow his movements.
I couldn't do anything.
I couldn't keep up with Orsted.
"Ghkh... kehh..."
My entire body ached.
I'd only been kicked a few times through the armor, yet pain like full-body bruising was coursing through me.
My chest hurt. My stomach hurt. My right hand hurt. My neck hurt. My back hurt.
Breathing was hard.
Why was my body so difficult to move?
The fatigue was overwhelming.
Wait — could it be that my mana was...
exhausted?
"Haa... hah..."
Orsted's gaze turned toward me.
A chill.
I had no armor now.
I had to run.
Or before that — my right hand — where was my right hand?
"Ghkh!"
...By the time I realized it, I'd been kicked away again.
Pain ripped through me as if my body were being torn apart.
I landed on my back, and his boot pressed down on my chest.
"Ugh..."
A groan escaped from deep in my throat.
Something cold was pressed against the sweat-drenched skin of my neck.
I looked up — Orsted was pointing his sword at me.
So this is how I die.
In the end, I couldn't win.
I'm going to die.
"So it was you after all. Rudeus Greyrat. I heard you were living happily — so why are you after my life?"
Orsted didn't kill me immediately.
Perhaps because he'd let me go once before.
Perhaps because he'd already determined I was no longer a threat.
Whatever.
"The Human God told me..."
"...Hmph. So you were an apostle of the Human God after all. Die."
Orsted lifted his foot from my chest and raised his sword.
"That you're trying to destroy the world, and that my descendants are helping you, and that you'll kill the Human God."
"...What?"
Orsted's movement stopped.
"That the Human God is trying to stop you from destroying the world, and that he's fighting you."
"..."
"So if I kill you, my children — my family — he'll let them go..."
I rolled onto my stomach and clung to Orsted's leg.
I rubbed my head against his foot and screamed it out.
This was all I had left.
"Please. Don't destroy the world.
You can kill me. But don't take my children's future away from me.
Please. This is the first time. It's the first time I've ever been this happy.
Please. Give up on the Human God. Please."
Tears streamed from my eyes.
I was powerless. Pathetic.
What a joke.
What the hell was I even doing.
Damn it.
"...That, I cannot do."
The instant I heard those words, I clamped my teeth down on Orsted's leg.
"Mgghhhh!"
Still biting down, I raised my blood-gushing right hand — what was left of it — and funneled every remaining drop of mana into that handless arm, detonating it all at once.
Even if it meant mutual destruction — I would kill this man.
"Disrupt Magic!"
The kick sent me flying. My concentration shattered. The mana dissipated.
My consciousness was fading.
If I used magic one more time, I would definitely pass out.
"No matter how much of Laplace's factor you carry, no matter how vast your mana reserves — if you wield Grand Magic that many times in succession, your mana will eventually run dry."
Orsted reached his hand toward me.
He was going to kill me.
He was going to kill me.
If he killed me, Orsted would live.
If Orsted lived, then Lucy...
Roxy... Sylphie...
I can't die.
I can't lose.
I have to win no matter what.
But my body won't move.
I have no mana.
Blood was gushing from my arm.
My consciousness was dimming.
My vision darkened.
Orsted's hand blotted out my sight.
Ah, ah, ah.
Ahhh...
I should have at least decided on a name...
---
"Hm?!"
Orsted leapt backward.
"...?"
When I came to,
A person was standing between Orsted and me.
A tall woman.
She wore dark clothing, with a sharp-looking coat draped over her shoulders.
In her hand, she held a single-edged sword with a blade so clear it seemed transparent.
I couldn't see her face from behind.
But — ah, I knew that hair.
That long, wavy hair that reached to her waist.
That vivid crimson, as though someone had splashed it with pure paint.
"I kept you waiting, didn't I, Rudeus?"
Eris Greyrat was standing there.