A man stood upon the earth.
His age was impossible to discern. From beneath a tattered black cloak, he directed a sharp gaze forward.
At the end of that gaze were two girls.
Pitiful maidens, tossed about by the world and destiny, enthralled by the moon's magic.
The place itself, if one had to describe it in a single word, would be called strange.
There were signs that some manner of construction had been underway—clumps of earth and timber, apparently brought from somewhere, lay scattered about. In places, scaffolding had even been erected.
Yet the very beings those structures were meant to serve were nowhere to be found. All that remained was the hollow emptiness of an abandoned construction site.
Only the man himself was here.
A scene that spoke that fact with perfect clarity.
——The man spoke quietly.
"So it's you lot... the ones who defeated every last one of my subordinates. To think you could accomplish that looking so frail—it truly seems fate enjoys toying with me above all else."
The man spoke those words with an air of amusement.
His voice carried a depth that suggested thoughtfulness, almost as though he were savoring the conversation, and yet not a trace of lowered guard or carelessness existed within it.
"But still... that is precisely why you must die here. That is the covenant, after all."
RPG Game: Brave Questus.
Final Boss: Demon Lord.
This man was, in truth, the destination of the Elful sisters' journey of regret.
"How you managed to annihilate my forces, I do not know. But puny beings such as you could not so much as scratch my body."
With those words, the world twisted.
Mana surging through the air fluctuated violently, engulfing the man's form.
It then coalesced into an obsidian mantle, forging an absolute defense.
The expression on the man's face that had been visible moments before was now impossible to discern.
A field of inviolable force, so powerful it warped light and space itself, now stood between them.
=Message===
The Demon Lord has erected a barrier of darkness!
―――
But...
=Message===
The Hero's power drives back the darkness!
The barrier of darkness has been dispelled!
―――
The bodies of the twin girls—the Elful sisters—briefly emitted a pale light.
At the same time, a crisp, light sound rang out, and the barrier enveloping the Demon Lord shattered like glass.
The face that had been cloaked in obsidian was now contorted with shock.
"That technique... you've awakened to the Hero's power? How is that possible? There should be no Hero in this world... that was the covenant. What in the world is going on?"
For the first time, bewilderment showed on the Demon Lord's face.
No matter how many of his countless memories he rifled through, only the Hero could use this phenomenon.
And the Hero was a person he knew to be singular.
The barrier of darkness was his proudest absolute defense—the one that degraded any and every attack.
It was because of this power that he had once plunged the world into terror, and it had been passed down among the people that only the Hero could defeat the Demon Lord.
That premise... that inviolable law he had known to be absolute, was crumbling.
The Demon Lord experienced the emotion of confusion for the first time in his life.
"Who granted you that power? What gave you the Hero's strength?"
The girls did not answer.
They simply advanced, quietly, step by step.
Did they not know words? Or did they simply have no intention of exchanging them?
The Demon Lord recalled, now that he thought about it, that the legitimate Hero he knew had been just as taciturn, and let out a small laugh.
"Well... fine. Everything must be destroyed and conquered. That is the covenant, after all."
And with that, the Demon Lord shifted his consciousness.
From conversation to combat. From a shabby-looking man to the Demon Lord.
...The change was not limited to his consciousness alone.
The Demon Lord's body suddenly swelled, expanding again and again.
Simultaneously, his cloak was torn asunder and countless blades erupted from his body.
He grew and grew without cease, until he had become the size of a small mansion.
"...Is it strange that I transformed from the start? Or would you have preferred to fight in stages, as in a game? In this world, where most of the restrictions have been lifted, I doubt anyone would call that inelegant."
The same dull voice issued from the massive entity, and blood-red eyes gleamed fiercely.
The Demon Lord's body was... the embodiment of all conflict in this world.
That was no metaphor.
His form was composed of countless moving corpses, further adorned with swords, axes, armor, and shields strung together into a grotesque panoply.
A four-legged beast symbolizing discord and strife—that was the Demon Lord's true form.
Gleaming from within the mountain of corpses and metal, a massive exposed eye fixed itself upon the Elful sisters.
Clanking and grinding, the swarm of enormous blades writhed as if alive.
The restrictions of Brave Questus, and those inherited by this world.
Having completed his assessment of both in a brief span, the Demon Lord decided to eliminate the two girls with his full power from the outset.
His heightened senses as the Demon Lord of the demonic race, and a premonition bordering on instinct, compelled him to do so.
In other words... he must never underestimate the girls before him.
They were terrifying entities merely disguised in the form of girls...
"Perhaps... defeating you two is the trial that has been imposed upon me."
Conversation had already lost all meaning. Conversation required a willing counterpart, and these girls who advanced with nothing but killing intent, utterly deaf to any words, made it fatally impossible.
Understanding this, the Demon Lord nonetheless recalled that there was something he needed to ask.
Like a loner signaling the start of battle, he posed one final question to them.
"One thing before we fight... I want to confirm."
—Amid all the monsters that had rotted, forgotten how to live, and been devoured—
The last Demon Lord remaining spoke of what mattered most to him.
"Do you believe in the existence of God?"
"Such a thing doesn't exist anywhere."
The girls spat the words with voices laced with hatred.
=Message===
The Demon Lord has appeared!
―――
This was a battle waged for all those who had died.
For the precious memories that had slipped away.
A battle dedicated to a past that would never return.
◇ ◇ ◇
The word "fierce battle" existed for precisely this kind of fight.
Mearia and Caeria used the coordination unique to sisters to launch invisible assaults upon the Demon Lord, and the Demon Lord countered with every ounce of power he possessed, weathering them all.
"Blades! Bring death upon my foes!"
From the Demon Lord's back, the countless weapons composing his form were launched skyward.
They soared upward and then descended in a radial trajectory, raining down upon the Elful sisters.
It could be called lavish overkill, or said to fill the entire sky—for those on the receiving end, it was equivalent to a death sentence.
The count easily exceeded a hundred, and the aim was devastatingly precise.
But their opponents were no ordinary foes.
Quite the opposite—even if they had just been born into this world, they were witches.
One of the seven calamities of the Idragia continent. One of them.
They were not the sort of beings so merciful that they would fall to something like this.
"A-hahahaha! Beautiful!"
The elder sister, Mearia, raised both hands toward the sky, eyes shining.
The moment the crest reflected in her pupils glowed dimly, every last weapon aimed at the twin girls forgot its own existence.
"Caeria!"
"...Understood, Big Sis."
Next, the younger sister, Caeria, lit up her eyes.
At the same time, the ground beneath the Demon Lord's feet began to crumble and squelch, throwing him off balance.
"Tch—how irritating!"
The reason they did not launch direct attacks against the Demon Lord was the high level and defense power he possessed.
The twins' abilities—«Infection of Idiocy» and «Infection of Plague»—were powerful, but they carried a critical disadvantage: when the opponent's combat capabilities were high enough, the base effects could be resisted.
Against nameless fodder, instant killing was possible, but using them against a powerful entity required a considerable amount of time.
Add to that the distance and the Demon Lord's regenerative ability.
The Demon Lord had seen through both of the twins' abilities with his sharp eye and had been sticking to ranged attacks from the start.
On top of that, his powerful regeneration restored the minimal damage and memory loss they had managed to inflict.
Of course, Mearia's «Infection of Idiocy» could erase all of the Demon Lord's attacks as well, so the battle was effectively deadlocked.
That was precisely why, at this moment, Mearia had rotted the ground beneath the Demon Lord's feet and stolen his attention for just an instant.
Yes—all of it was to close the distance.
For two who carried no weapons to obtain them...
=Message===
The Elful sisters have obtained the Demon Lord's weapons!
...The Demon Lord's weapons are cursed!
―――
The countless weapons that had been fired. The two of them quickly snatched them up from where they lay scattered across the battlefield.
Mearia took the twin swords. Caeria, the halberd.
Naturally...
=Message===
Mearia's «Infection of Idiocy»!
The Demon Lord's weapons have forgotten their curse!
―――
A curse trap was not even worth considering.
"You dare to wield my own body against me? The arrogance! The insolence! And yet, that is precisely why you are my trial!"
The earth erupted, and the two girls surged forward.
As if to intercept them, the mountain of weapons fired at them was instantly neutralized, and the Demon Lord's body rotted and collapsed like a hindrance.
Even so, the Demon Lord did not fall.
Welcoming the twin girls with claws that could easily rend steel, he unfolded a sword dance so fast that the human eye could barely follow.
The Demon Lord could not flee.
Even if it were possible, no option to run would have been left to him.
The battle was tilting ever so slightly in the Elful sisters' favor.
... ... ...
The Demon Lord's transformation had reached its final stage from the very beginning.
There were no further steps left to him. The scales, gradually tipping, could not be reversed.
Even debuff magic—spells of ability degradation—were swept away entirely. He could not even land a normal attack on them properly.
Conversely, close combat only ensured that their attacks would lead to his certain destruction.
The word "defeat" had already surfaced in his mind, and with it, the knowledge that it meant an eternity of nothingness.
"I will not lose! I have God on my side! I am chosen by God—I cannot possibly lose in a place like this!"
The Demon Lord screamed.
It was a prayer to the God who had granted him wisdom and led him to this world.
How ironic that an entity meant to bring darkness to the world should worship God.
"Peace! The peace I desire above all else is right within reach! I will overcome God's trial!"
And how comedic that all of them, without exception, yearned for peace.
Fremain, the Flame Heavenly King who had fallen alongside Isla—and the Demon Lord himself.
Why had they been brought to this world? Why had they been given will?
If only they had remained without hearts, existing solely as data in a game—how much happier they would have been.
The Demon Lord's mind recalled the events of when he had arrived in this world.
An infinitely expanding white world, and an overwhelming presence that made him realize how insignificant and trivial his own existence was.
Then came the revelation of the world's truth.
Yes—God truly existed.
It had appeared before them and delivered its divine decree.
It was because of that covenant... that promise made with God, that the Demon Lord had never questioned conquering the world here as well.
Even knowing he was a being capable of nothing else, he had been able to hold firm in his resolve.
All for the eternal happiness and peace promised by God.
To elevate himself from a mere game entity into a being of unwavering will.
"A-hahahaha! Hey! Hey hey hey! God doesn't exist! There's no God anywhere! The world is cruel to us!"
"God, God, God—you've been going on about God for far too long. Shut that screaming mouth of yours!"
The two witches answered the Demon Lord's wish with pure contempt.
They had absolutely no interest in the Demon Lord or his desires.
"God! God exists! God alone can grant us peace! God understands our suffering! That is the covenant! And as proof of it, I stand here!"
The Demon Lord screamed.
God's mercy, his repentance toward God, his plea to God, his declaration to God.
Round and round, the memory of that moment churned within the Demon Lord.
A single shabby man. The ambition he had harbored was crumbling.
Just two. Just two young girls, and his wish was fading away.
"I will seize freedom! I will seize freedom and reach a world without conflict! Beyond the confines of this closed world! Beyond the game itself!"
The Demon Lord screamed.
"If you pray, if you believe! The great God will answer!"
—The two girls who clearly heard those words turned upon him nothing but the gaze one might give to filth.
The two girls knew.
There was neither dream nor hope in this world.
Everything was an object of hatred, and the more one believed, the more one was betrayed.
The only thing worth believing in was the past—those gentle souls who had been lost precisely because of their gentleness. They were the only ones the girls could trust.
Their hearts, their strength, their bodies, their will, their convictions, their feelings—all were directed toward the past.
Carrying regret for those who had died, fighting solely for those who had been lost, the two girls maddened by the moon pressed onward.
"The world! If you sacrifice the world, God will grant your wish! What is your God? What is it you believe in?! Speak the name of your God!"
"God doesn't exist."
They answered once more.
There was no God.
Such a convenient entity did not exist anywhere in this world.
For a fleeting moment, the memory of a kind king's smile passed through her mind, but even that was brushed aside.
A sharp ache pricked at her chest.
The moon shone beautifully.
◇ ◇ ◇
In the end, the battle concluded as if by predetermined script.
The Demon Lord's combat power could not match that of the twin girls, their abilities now fully augmented.
It was a matter of pure fact, with no room for miracles.
If their combat capabilities had been closer, the story might have been different.
But... unfortunately, facts were what they were.
A game could be called a world unto itself.
It entertained countless people, wove stories, and gave them emotion and excitement.
An RPG game that had created numerous records and legends, was called an immortal masterpiece of the genre, and still received remakes and media adaptations with a devoted fanbase—"Brave Questus."
Its final boss, seated at the very end. For the Demon Lord's last stand, it was anticlimactic, and above all, lonely.
"Ah, I am rotting away. My dreams, my hopes... fading."
Crumbling to mush, all his weapons gone, the Demon Lord yet clung faintly to life.
The twin girls seemed to have lost interest in the Demon Lord entirely, gazing blankly up at the moon.
The battle was over.
They harbored not an ounce of pity for the defeated.
But... while the battle had ended for the Elful sisters, it had not for the Demon Lord.
"I cannot... I cannot die! As long as this will endures, I swear by the name of my God... I will not die!"
Sometimes, strong will can alter fate.
It can forcibly bend events that were supposed to be unchangeable.
Especially when those events were defined by the game's systems.
Because the system does not consider the individual.
=Message===
A strong will sustains the Demon Lord!
The Demon Lord's wounds are vanishing before your eyes!
―――
A moment of crisis, and the power of will brings awakening.
It was perhaps the most clichéd, most predictable phenomenon there was.
But precisely because it was clichéd and predictable, it manifested as a matter of course.
The world was cruel, but it was also equal.
If a powerless, pitiful girl could gain new strength through regret and hatred...
Then a powerful demonic entity could also gain new strength through wishes and hope.
"Oh, oh! As I thought—as I thought, I am not meant to end here! I am loved by God!"
A new surge of mana enveloped the Demon Lord's body, radiating a brilliant light.
A strong, noble light.
His sharp eyes, brimming with will and power, finally fixed upon the girls before him.
"As I thought—God was watching over me! God will grant me victory!"
And he declared it aloud.
The name of the God he believed in, the God in whom he had placed all his dreams.
"Hear me! The name of my God is—"
=■■■■■===
The name of God must not be spoken lightly.
―――
"—Huh?"
In that instant, something came flying down from the sky.
Neither the Elful sisters nor the Demon Lord. An uninvited third party.
With a light metallic sound, a streak of silver light shot forth, and a thunderous boom echoed.
Before the dust could even rise, a vertical line appeared in the Demon Lord's body.
In the instant of the attack's arrival, the Elful sisters used the heightened senses and physical strength inherited from Isla to distance themselves, stumbling slightly as they directed sharp gazes toward the Demon Lord.
"…………"
There stood their former enemy—cleaved clean in two down the middle.
The cut was nothing short of astonishing.
Sliced in a perfectly straight line as though guided by a ruler, it had not a single deviation.
Moreover, despite having severed the Demon Lord's extraordinarily resilient body, it had expended no wasted force whatsoever—the impact on the surrounding area was astonishingly minimal.
In fact, the body of iron and the dead remained frozen in place, as if declaring that it was still perfectly functional.
But as time passed, the change grew.
Eventually, the Demon Lord's two halves drifted apart and slowly collapsed to the ground, forming an improbable mountain of gold coins.
=Message===
The Demon Lord has been defeated!
The Brave Questus Demon Lord Army has been destroyed!
―――
The two girls exchanged a brief glance of confirmation, then turned their attention back.
An enormous intervention from outside had arrived.
Utterly graceless, it had flown in at a timing so precise it seemed almost intentional, and obliterated the Demon Lord.
Who? For what purpose? How?
Questions swarmed into their minds in an instant, but without finding answers, they faded.
An unexpected situation. But the two did not waver.
The qualities of a hero and a Hero concealed within them—and above all, their instincts as witches—compelled them to direct maximum vigilance toward the being that had so effortlessly destroyed the Demon Lord.
"...Who are you?"
"...Why did you interfere?"
As the dust settled, the one who had appeared was a single man.
His age... wasn't particularly advanced. If anything, he was too young—perhaps four or five years older than the girls.
Illuminated by the moonlit night, he carried a curved single-edged weapon that gleamed beautifully, and wore unfamiliar black clothing unlike any culture the girls had encountered.
His somewhat cavalier demeanor, he casually flicked his weapon to spatter off the blood, then sheathed it.
The girls' gazes were fixed upon the man.
There was confusion and wariness, but above all, hatred burned in their eyes.
The Demon Lord had been... their enemy.
Having lost their second mother, they had intended to destroy every last force responsible for her death.
Originally non-combatants swept up by a sudden phenomenon, they knew almost nothing about the Brave Questus Demon Lord Army's forces.
But the heightened senses they had inherited from Isla as a "Hero," and the "Hero's" ability awakened through the event, had pierced through the truth hidden behind this tragedy.
For that reason, they had been convinced the Demon Lord was the root of all evil, and had wielded their power to dedicate this battle to the fallen Isla.
Unlike when they had been powerless, they now possessed strength.
Strength capable of destroying a world—a power that could not be disturbed by anyone.
They had believed that wielding this power to avenge their mother would ease the deep emptiness nesting in their hearts like an ocean.
Was the world not even going to permit that?
The twins' anger seethed and churned, their emotions rising with a dense demonic aura that distorted the surrounding space like a heat haze.
Who was this person?
But the man, receiving their gaze, flinched for an instant, then scratched his own cheek with an awkward expression and an attitude far too casual for the setting...
"Hm... did I do something wrong?"
Only that single word, only that answer.