After confirming that Sarah's will to fight had been broken, Ermes dispelled his magic.
Honestly, it had exceeded his expectations.
He'd understood that her Bloodline Magic would be powerful even in combat—but what truly caught him off guard was her exceptional insight and adaptability, the way she'd accurately seen through his tactics and immediately devised countermeasures.
It was hard to imagine she had any combat experience, so this was probably an innate gift. He felt as though he'd stumbled upon an unexpected talent in the most unlikely of places.
Still, Ermes had come out on top—overcoming the flaws of loose control and monotonous movement in the process.
Through repeated trial and error, he accumulated small increments of progress. Bit by bit, yet with absolute certainty, he grew stronger without limit.
Perhaps this had also allowed him to show her something—a way of wielding magic that was uniquely his own.
Even Sarah, watching him head-on, wore an expression that suggested a measure of understanding.
With that, Ermes relaxed his shoulders.
"...I... give... up..."
He delivered those words in the most horrifying monotone imaginable, then collapsed onto the ground with a thud.
"Eh... eh?!"
Sarah's eyes went wide at his sudden and painfully obvious act, and she hurried over to crouch beside him.
"Um, Ermes, what exactly..."
"I've been defeated. The combined efforts of you and the soldiers forced me to a draw."
"That's the story."
"So if you'd be so kind as to..."
"...just go along with that."
Of course, while he had taken some damage, Ermes still had plenty of energy to spare.
However, at least for now, he wanted to play the part of being unable to move. Because—
"If His Highness were to see this situation, he would undoubtedly come after both of us at once."
Right now he was going along with Katia's provocation and accepting the one-on-one duel, but once the soldiers were defeated and it became clear that Ermes was free, His Highness would surely try to take on both of them.
This feigned defeat was his way of avoiding that outcome.
But that—
"S-so you mean... His Highness Aster is entrusting everything to Lady Katia?"
"Yes."
Sarah was taken aback by his nonchalant answer.
She had heard that Katia had grown stronger. There was no trace of the girl who had once been called the Flawed Lady.
But Sarah also knew just how strong Aster was. She simply couldn't believe anyone could defeat him in a one-on-one fight.
"It will be perfectly fine. She is strong. I understand your doubts, but... if that's the case, then please—watch."
Ermes pointed in the direction where Katia was fighting as he addressed her.
"I too shall witness what lies beyond the path she chooses to walk. And—her magic."
As he said those words, he recalled the events of that morning.
◆
"...The true value... of my magic?"
"Yes. That technique does not summon the dead and convert them into powerful barrages of magic power—"
Katia's eyes went wide.
After all, what he had just denied was the very first thing she had been taught when she received that power as a child.
"I-it's not?"
"More precisely, it's 'only the most basic aspect of how to use it.' Right—before explaining the effects, let me start with the philosophy behind this magic."
Every magic carries a wish that was poured into its creation.
One of the roots of his view of magic. Following that principle, Ermes began his explanation.
"The philosophy of that magic, the wish poured into it—it is 'dialogue with the dead.'"
"Dialogue... with the dead?"
"Yes. Those who once lived in this world, who existed in times past—but who still remain there as souls. To call forth those invisible beings at the boundary between the living world and the netherworld, and speak with them. That is the core of this magic... and so 'summoning' is merely a prerequisite."
In a sense, the way it had been used until now—'summoning them and then converting them into a mass of magic power'—was doing the exact opposite of what it was meant for.
But look at it the other way.
If the magic had been this powerful even while producing effects diametrically opposed to its true purpose, then what did that mean?
If it were to display its real value, the magic's power would be on an entirely different level. It held the potential to become magic worthy of the name 'strongest among the ducal family's heirlooms'—no, something that could even surpass that.
Understanding that fact, Katia asked with a look of astonishment mingled with a faint trace of excitement.
"Then... what should I do?"
"Just as I said. Speak with the souls you've summoned. Not as subjects of domination to be restrained by your own power, but as equals—talk with them at length, understand each other's feelings, and join hands together."
Of course, there would certainly be souls with whom mutual understanding proved impossible no matter how you treated them. And among those, the number willing to lend their strength would likely be even smaller.
After all, they only possessed temporary spiritual forms through Katia's magic. Their souls would not vanish even if they were turned into magic power or destroyed. But being treated carelessly as beings with their own consciousness would probably be unpleasant for many of them.
But still.
"If, even so, there were those willing to follow you. If there were souls who came to know your feelings, who learned what kind of person you are, and who came to love you. Then surely they would grant you power incomparable to what you've had until now."
And that was the true way to use this magic.
A magic that bridges the netherworld and the living world—exchanging words with the dead, understanding their feelings, and receiving their strength in return.
"...The person who created this magic must have been a very kind individual."
Calmly, he spoke.
"To begin with, the word '
Salvation
' apparently comes from a language in some faraway country. They say it means a place where every living thing is saved."
Feelings he had touched through magic. He praised their beauty, savoring them as though letting each word linger on his tongue.
"But... surely when this person heard that, they thought, 'Then isn't there a place where all the dead are saved, too?'"
"!"
"That is why, I believe, they created this magic. Wishing to speak with all the dead, grant them peace, and become
the Savior
for the inhabitants of the netherworld, they carved their name into it. First, giving beautiful feelings the form of words."
And so he concluded, directing pure reverence toward the magic technique inscribed upon the jade dial.
"And so it was named—the epithet of this magic—"
◆
"—'
Netherworld of Salvation
'!"
And now.
The spiritual orb Katia had released... no, that isn't quite right.
The spiritual orb released by
the Spiritual Entity that Katia had summoned.
They kept coming at Aster, one after another.
"How impertinent!"
Each one boasted power on par with the
Magic Bullet Archer
that Chris wielded.
But Aster was no pushover. With a single swing of his arm, he unleashed a torrent of flames and burned them away with overwhelming firepower, not even deigning to acknowledge them.
Yet the assault was far from over. As if to outshine even that display, the Spiritual Entities cloaked themselves in the energy they had fired as projectiles earlier and surged toward him.
An assault from every direction. No escape whatsoever — the very embodiment of being crushed by sheer numbers.
But even so, Aster—
"Don't you dare underestimate me!!"
A flick of his armored sleeve.
As if to give flesh to those very words, he unleashed a vortex of flames at full power around himself.
The Spiritual Entities caught in what had instantly become a scorching hell were burned to nothing without the slightest chance to resist.
A brief moment of silence spread around him.
Aster's Bloodline Magic —
Fire Heaven Judgment.
.
Indeed, no matter how many times you saw it, the sheer firepower was overwhelming.
Having displayed every last ounce of that power, Aster stood there... breathing slightly ragged as he looked forward.
"What... what in the world are these things?!"
──Looking at the swarm of Spiritual Entities still spread out in the dozens around Katia, and still multiplying even now.
His face twisted, a flicker of dread crossing his features at the thought of just how many more he would have to cut down.
«
Netherworld of Salvation
» —The true power thereof. It was not merely converting souls into magic power; it meant regarding each Spiritual Entity as a sentient, willful being and requesting their cooperation through dialogue.
In other words, treating the spirits not as tools, but as soldiers.
What resulted were semi-transparent humanoid forms wreathed in a purple glow, drifting around her. Their appearance was relatively simple, but their performance—exceeded even what Aster, and even Katia herself, had anticipated.
First, the long-range spirit-mass projectiles that Katia had employed until now. Every single one of them could wield such attacks, and they could even extend that same principle to close-range combat. They handled it even more skillfully than Katia had.
And above all, their durability was abnormally high.
That physical attacks were completely useless went without saying; furthermore, the very nature of Spiritual Entities as beings likely granted them high resistance to magic.
Aster had incinerated them with his full-powered flames—but conversely, that meant even firepower on Aster's level couldn't put them down without going all out.
Ghost soldiers so robust that even mediocre Bloodline Magic would struggle to destroy a single one—and Katia could produce them in practically inexhaustible numbers.
There was, as Ermes had mentioned before, the drawback of requiring their consent. But once their cooperation had been secured, even if they were destroyed as before, they could be revived as long as she still had magic power. Every last ghost soldier that had been incinerated had just now finished reviving.
An army of the dead that could easily surpass any lowly Monster—and the Underworld's Queen who commanded them.
──This was the true wielder of
Netherworld of Salvation
.
"Rraaagh!!"
With a battle cry, Aster charged toward Katia.
A path to victory did exist—he simply needed to strike down the caster herself. That was precisely what Aster was aiming for, and he had made his current move to close the distance to Katia.
But.
"I won't let you."
Following her calm commands, the ghost soldiers moved to block and obstruct Aster's path.
Their blockade was masterfully executed. They maintained just enough spacing to avoid being burned away all at once, while launching a ceaseless barrage that gave him no moment to rest. By the time he dealt with them, his feet had stopped once more, and before he knew it, the distance between them had grown again.
Part of it was Katia's excellent instructions, but just as important was the ghost soldiers who perfectly executed her will by reading her every intention. This, too, was possible only because she had exchanged feelings with their souls.
They were right back where they started. Aster's exhaustion was clearly far worse, and his disadvantage was accelerating.
Fueled by nothing but rage, Aster shouted.
"You... damn coward! You challenged me to a one-on-one, yet all you do is run away! You spineless wretch who doesn't even have the guts to face me head-on!"
"...Maintaining a favorable distance is not the same as running away. All I hear is 'I can't win at this range, so fight me up close where I have the advantage'—you're practically advertising your own weakness."
"You—da—damn you!!"
A cutting retort that was rare for her—perhaps she had picked up the influence of someone else.
Sensing that shift in her demeanor, and too furious to come up with any reply, Aster charged once more.
But all that played out was a rerun of before. Katia didn't let Aster get anywhere close, deftly maneuvering the ghost soldiers to keep up their assault. The moment his feet stopped, they surrounded him and attacked. Even when he burned them away, they regenerated again.
Aster was being drained of both stamina and magic power, one-sidedly. Katia hadn't taken a single hit, while Aster's movements were growing sluggish as the ghost soldiers' shots grazed him from all sides.
"Is this... a nightmare... His Highness Aster, being dominated like this..."
"N-No! That's just the product of some heretical art! There must be some terrible price he's paying for that fleeting power...!"
"B-But... even so, this kind of power... and more than that, that His Highness can't match it..."
At the sheer one-sidedness of it all, the soldiers—conscious but incapacitated by Ermes—let out groans of despair.
...In truth, the gap between them wasn't as wide as it appeared to onlookers.
If anything, when it came to raw magical performance, Aster still held the edge. In truth, if he ever managed to close the distance and get inside Katia's guard, she would likely fall within seconds.
What made the situation so one-sided was Katia's masterful positioning, her attacks designed to keep Aster at bay with everything she had, and the placement of her troops. In short — it all came down to how she wielded magic.
She had witnessed it firsthand. The boy who, even without being born with magic, never gave up and returned wielding the strongest magic of all. His true strength — the power born from endless refinement, from piling trial upon trial and error upon error. And now, in this battle, she was putting every last scrap of that knowledge to full use.
Aster, on the other hand, was someone who had solved everything up to now through his gifted talent and the brute force of the strongest Bloodline Magic he'd been granted. In other words, he had absolutely zero experience fighting opponents of comparable magical ability.
So he didn't know how to be clever. He didn't know refinement.
This time too, it was a head-on charge — the only means of attack Katia could easily deflect. Not "couldn't use anything else." He simply didn't know any other way.
A person who had won nonstop since the day they were born — once forced into a disadvantage, they were this fragile.
(Am I... going to... lose!?)
At last, the word "defeat" began to flicker through Aster's mind.
He had no will to close the distance, nor could he think of any way to do so. The vast reserves of magic power he'd had were mostly drained from the fight, and his body was growing heavier by the moment.
If this continued, he would be defeated before long.
He would be reduced to crawling pathetically across the ground, his body unable to move, forced to endure the gazes looking down on him —
(Don't... screw with me!)
The instant he recognized that, a violent rejection erupted within Aster.
The arrogance of having been a winner ever since the day he was born. The conviction he'd clung to — even by twisting every inconvenient truth out of shape — that nothing existed superior to himself.
Yes. This must be — a trial.
If it's me, surely
I can overcome it
—
It must be a trial that God
has given me.
.
In other words, I
here and now
will awaken
to greater power.
.
Yes
,
that's how it's
meant to be—
——!!)
——What had been fortunate for Aster
was that the magic he'd been granted had exceptional compatibility with his particular mentality.
Thump.
The magic within him beat a single, powerful pulse.
And from that magic, something entirely new began to flow into him.