……She hadn't wanted to acknowledge it.
That inside her, such shameful, wretched feelings existed.
From the outside, she must have looked like someone who craved nothing but her own ruin. She understood that much objectively—that she had every reason to feel that way.
But she also knew that harboring such impulsive feelings was, in itself, a betrayal of the people who had believed in her until now—few in number, but precious to her nonetheless.
So she had concealed it.
She locked it away, sealed the lid tight, and buried it so deep it could never escape before the moment of her death. She wrapped it layer upon layer in shells of thought, reason, and composure.
And so she deceived her own words and actions.
Deceived her beliefs.
Deceived even the depths of her heart.
But.
——Magic was the one thing she could not deceive.
◆
She hadn't wanted to acknowledge it.
"…Fa…ther…?"
Katia stared blankly at the scene before her.
Everything was incomprehensible.
Why was her father standing alone, having defeated the Archbishop?
Why was that same father now flanking Laplace and Chrono, standing shoulder to shoulder with them?
And above all. Why——
"That magic is... what... what is that...?"
<<It's not the sort of magic you use for direct combat.>>
That was the answer she'd received the one time she'd asked about it. Her father's Bloodline Magic — never spoken of again after that.
And yet — it was nothing like what his own account suggested. The familiars lingering behind her father radiated an aura that was, on its face, terrifying, savage, and aggressively hostile.
And more than that — more than that — the name of that magic——!
"......'Netherworld
of Salvation
'"
As if reading the very thought the moment her mind arrived at it, Yurugen spoke the name of the magic aloud.
"It's the same magic as yours, Katia. You can see it, can't you? This and your magic are one and the same."
"That's... well, yes, but — but!"
Her father's observation hit the mark. Because they were wielders of the same magic, she could be certain that those familiars were the same kind of thing — beings born from Souls.
But.
——Everything else was far, far too different.
"Ah, this?"
Sensing her gaze, Yurugen turned to look behind him. After glancing over the Souls assembled there with eyes that betrayed no emotion whatsoever, he continued.
"'
Netherworld of Salvation
'is a magic that summons Souls. ...You also believed that, in addition to that, the high defensive performance of the summoned Souls was one of its defining characteristics, didn't you?
......But that's wrong. This magic's effect is truly just 'summoning Souls' — nothing more. The temperament of the Souls it calls upon, their nature in battle — all of it depends entirely on the person themselves."
"......"
"And on top of that, you summoned those beautiful spirits. And I—"
She faced me once more.
Smiling, she told me.
"—
Vengeful spirits. Malicious spirits.
That's all
—
I can summon."
"
"......huh?"
"No matter how much I try. No matter how hard I struggle. I can only summon Souls consumed by resentment and hatred. That's what I've become, without even realizing it.
And the Souls summoned through this magic depend entirely on the caster's temperament. A Soul's true nature is a mirror of its summoner. In other words—"
She turned toward Katia, who couldn't accept what she was witnessing.
She spread her hands wide, showing where she stood. ...As if to say she had no intention of turning back.
And then, she spoke.
"I realized it. No matter how I try to fix things, no matter what mask I wear, no matter how I lie to myself—
my true nature is, no matter what I do,
hatred.
That's what I am."
I can't say a single thing.
Yurugen — the one who had supported them, front and back, this whole time. In this country where nothing but spent nobles remained, he had been practically the only fully dependable "adult" they had.
The fact that someone like that had been hiding something like this all along. Unable to accept it, unwilling to accept it — it wasn't just Katia. Everyone present had frozen stiff.
But the situation would not wait for them.
"...Well then, shall we put an end to this idle talk? If you've all grasped my position, shouldn't you have things to be getting on with?"
"Y-Your position... Father, you really are...!"
"Yes, just as Lord Laplace introduced moments ago. The last remaining executive of the 'Organization,' and a spy planted within the Third Princess's faction. That is me — Yurugen von Traukia."
And the one faction the Organization had never managed to infiltrate with a spy was the Archbishop's faction. Which meant that recklessly revealing his identity and allowing the Archbishop's faction to forge an alliance with everyone else would be catastrophic — he had judged as much.
"I have no intention of saying anything more than that. I'm under no obligation to go out of my way and meticulously explain things to those who will be my enemies from this point forward."
And so, first—
every faction save the Archbishop's—
all of them—
were made to clasp—
hands—
—and—
turn upon the Archbishop's faction—
to crush—
them.
That was the truth of it.
That was the full picture of this operation to subjugate the Archbishop.
Now that that was over... there was no longer any reason to hide their true nature.
In other words, right now. They were—
—cornered in a place with no escape, surrounded by the enemy's four most powerful combatants.
"Ngh—ah—!"
"My, my. It seems your soul is the cleverer one here, Katia."
Looking closely, the soul Katia wielded had been summoned without its master's permission, positioning itself in front of her as though to shield her.
Yurugen regarded it with a look of admiration, then—
"…Ah, no matter how many times I see it, it truly is a beautiful soul. Clear, radiant, brimming with warm feelings—"
He turned a cold voice and a sub-zero gaze toward his own daughter.
"—It makes me sick. You, Katia… I could never fully understand you, not to the very end."
"Ngh—ah—aahhhh—!!"
As if something inside her snapped at those words. Or as if she were forcefully shaking off everything that clung to her.
Katia unleashed a scream and fully activated her magic, commanding her phantom soldiers to attack.
"…Well, since we're here. We share the same magic, parent and child—so why not give you one final lesson?"
Yet even as phantom soldiers—magic of the strongest caliber in a generation—were aimed squarely at her, Yurugen did not so much as flinch.
"'
Netherworld of Salvation
' is a magic that summons a soul attuned to the user's temperament. Its nature varies depending on the person who wields it—in your case, you placed greater emphasis on 'protecting,' which shaped it into what it became."
He spoke quietly, then raised his hand.
"…Then what happens when the same magic collides head-on? If I were to put it the way young Ermes does, magic power, control ability, and other fundamentals outside of magic itself determine the outcome—but this magic is the one exception. Its influence isn't nonexistent, of course, but beyond that, there exists a factor that overwhelmingly and directly determines the magic's strength. In other words—"
He raised that hand high, then brought it crashing down. On that signal, the vengeful spirits arrayed behind Yurugen began their charge as well.
"
The stronger will wins.
"
Their phantom soldiers collided head-on.
And then—
"—See.
Hatred
is stronger."
An instant kill.
With a force worthy of the name, Katia's Soul was torn apart in one devastating sweep.
Overwhelming, absolute destructive power that refused to grant even a moment's endurance to Katia's Soul—supposed to be its greatest strength—and devoured it whole. Yurugen's "
Netherworld of Salvation
"—the true essence of it.
"Th-that—ghk!"
In the blink of an eye, the swarm of vengeful spirits closed in on Katia's position. She re-manifested phantom soldiers one after another at point-blank range, trying to hold her ground, but the enemy's destructive power was simply too immense. Buying even a few seconds' reprieve was all she could manage—pushing them back was utterly out of the question.
—And just like that, the vengeful spirits spilled over toward Ermes and the others, who had been about to rush to her aid.
"Gh—!"
Inevitably, Ermes and the others found themselves forced to deal with the vengeful spirits as well. ...He understood immediately—these spirits were an extraordinarily troublesome threat, operating on a vector completely opposite to Katia's.
(...Defenses. They're almost completely useless—!)
I had a rough idea of what to expect from the state Katia was in, but actually experiencing it firsthand surpassed even those estimates by another level entirely.
First, barrier-type magic was completely useless. The vengeful spirits eroded through them in the blink of an eye, breaking through at a level where even the slightest delay was impossible.
The conclusion was that they had to be eliminated through direct counterattack... but even that, with a half-hearted strike—
they would devour
the magic itself—
completely.
By necessity, the only option was to keep crushing them with maximum firepower, and moreover, just like with Katia, they would continue spawning endlessly as long as they had magic power.
A brutal, explosive magic of aggression and destruction.
This was his '
Netherworld of Salvation
'—identical to Katia's, yet utterly different from hers, and far more powerful. His Bloodline Magic.
"Oh, nice one, Thrakia. Keep them held there for a while."
......And further still.
Before Ermes and the others, who were already stretched to their limits just dealing with the situation, came Laplace's words.
"......Well then, guess I should get to work too."
"!"
"As expected, huh. The biggest hostile force is already down, and the rest are just a motley crew without their leaders or key figures. Leave them alone and they'll tear themselves apart through infighting—no need to lift a finger—
......Actually, that doesn't apply to you lot. You're way too strong for that. Might as well make sure to crush you all right here."
There was no option to let them go. Not the slightest.
Along with that declaration, Laplace's magic power surged to extraordinary heights.
"Ermes, consider this my thanks for using my magic. ...Since you went that far for me, I can't exactly hold back here, can I?"
Right on cue, matching Yurugen's pace, Laplace further refined his magic power.
He drew a breath and sang.
"──[
De
ceive
False
hood — the void of eighty-nine, in the sea of beginning there is no king — in the
sheaf
of ending
there is no
poem]"
"──!"
Even Ermes'... even Ermes, who had just reproduced Laplace's magic moments ago, didn't know this Chant.
There were two possibilities it could indicate. The "quite bad" one, and the "despairing" one.
As if he could read those doubts, Laplace wore a mocking expression——
"[The curtain of a foreign land is the door of madness — a tower of mud upon a blackened rainbow]"
The second verse of the Chant.
At that point, it was decided. ...It was the despairing one.
The "quite bad" one — if it had been a different Bloodline Magic, there would still have been hope.
But that was no good. He was already struggling just to deal with Yurugen's magic alone — if that were unleashed, whatever hope remained here would drop to virtually zero.
Even knowing that... there was nothing he could do about it.
"[Shatter — pierce — the Throne of Illusory Dreams — the stars, the deep moon, and wishes—
—
equalize them — the Ring of Grace—
in the Hidden World—
]"
Yurugen's vengeful spirits surged up without end, leaving no opening to regroup. The sustainment of Bloodline Magic—
had long since—
been exhausted. If they had more time, a countermeasure might still have been possible, but they didn't have it. And with Chrono watching for any opening on the other side, surprise attacks and clever ploys were out of the question.
It wasn't just Ermes. Every other person was in the same state — barely managing to protect themselves, and that alone was all they could do.
"[
Thus—
shall all idols—
perish — the brazen vessel has been opened — of deception—
the—
kingdom—
—
let us—
create! ]"
Unable to do anything, only the time limit drew closer.
A dense magic power unlike Yurugen's — so thick that just being near it made it hard to breathe — swirled all at once.
"[
Heaven —
the light falls to the far beyond, the flowers of the earth are ground to debris
Crushed
to nothing.
Compassion
is no
more.
The crown
perishes; what was built is destroyed.
Lightless
world ]"
And flawlessly.
Having completed the five-verse chant — the maximum — Laplace smiled at Ermes one last time.
"Watch closely, Ermes.
This magic,
—
is like this
"I'll use it."
"
Whether intentional or not, as if returning the favor, he threw back the very words that had left such an impression on him.
He proclaimed an even greater symbol of despair.
"'
Dark God's Bonfire Curtain
'—
Magic Inscription Liberation
"
Magic Inscription Liberation for the first time in a while! More and more dangerous magic is coming from here on out — hope you enjoy it!