"...Ugh...ah..."
His vision cleared, and consciousness returned.
(What on earth—happened—)
In the fog of still-unsettled thoughts, he murmured.
His memories of what came before and after were vague, so he traced back from what he could recall. He had fought Aster and the others here, defeated them, and then an extraordinarily powerful monster had appeared.
"—!"
It was at that point that his clouded awareness finally fully recovered, and he remembered.
Right. He had managed to adapt to that Kerberos's ferocious onslaught, finding the narrowest of openings to land hit after hit.
And just when he thought victory was within reach—those three spells.
The first spell fully healed all the damage dealt so far. The second spell blocked even his only effective strike.
And the third. That thunderbolt raining down from the sky.
The instant it was unleashed, Ermes and the other two had scrambled into full defensive formation.
First, the three of them clustered together. Katia redirected every single phantom soldier created through the Netherworld of Salvation to serve as shields.
Beneath them, Ermes deployed the hardest barrier at his disposal—the former Tortoise-shell Dragon's shield, the Apocrypha: Turtle Dragon Barrier.
And beneath that, Sara was supposed to have protected them from every direction with the Spirit Veil.
But that lightning had pierced through all of them in a single stroke and come straight for them.
That was why Ermes, as a last resort, had thrown his own body in the way to absorb the bolt.
"Guh...gh..."
He thought that decision had been the right one.
The triple-layered defense should have dampened its power to some extent. Even so, for someone like Ermes—who was accustomed to taking magical hits as a front-liner—the damage was still this severe.
If it had struck the other two head-on—they would have died, without question.
"—Ermes!"
Sara cried out in anguish and rushed over.
It seemed his sacrifice had paid off. She hadn't been able to block everything and wasn't completely unscathed, but compared to him, her injuries were far lighter.
"Horrible burns...! I'll heal you right away!"
Sara's face had gone pale at the sight of Ermes's condition. She pressed close enough to practically throw her arms around him and deployed the Star Corolla at full power, flooding him with healing magic until it practically overflowed.
However.
"Why... isn't it working!?"
No—that wasn't right. The healing itself was definitely taking effect.
The problem was that as soon as the wounds closed, they were reopening again.
The cause was the residual lightning magic still writhing through his body.
It raged and continued to burn him from within. That was likely the spell's true effect.
To undo it, a Disenchantment or Sealing Curse-type spell would be needed. Sara's Bloodline Magic apparently didn't cover that range.
Technically, Ermes did possess a spell of that type among his repertoire.
But he had taken too many lightning bolts. He would need to wait for the magic's effect to subside a bit before he could use it—
"Graaaaaaooooh!"
—The enemy was not going to wait for that.
"Im...possible."
Before the two of them stood a three-headed giant wolf. The embodiment of despair looked down upon them with cold contempt.
The time needed to recover from his current state and fight again was far too long when facing this opponent.
...No.
Even if he recovered, what difference would it make?
Even with his strongest spells at his disposal, the damage he could inflict was negligible—and even that could be undone in a single blow by that healing magic. The creature had even shown it could deploy barrier-type magic; if it used that, even negligible damage wouldn't get through.
And the ultimate proof was that lightning.
In terms of raw power—no, not just power. Range, additional effects, everything—the Netherworld of Salvation utterly outclassed Ermes's Meteor Throne.
If they were hit by that spell one more time, it would wipe them all out.
It probably couldn't be fired in rapid succession, but that was no consolation. Beyond even that, this line of reasoning itself was suspect—none of the common sense he had built up over the years applied to the monster before him. They were on entirely different levels as living beings.
This was the pinnacle of monsters.
The incarnation of a World Eater.
It was hopeless. There was no winning.
The result laid out before them was more than enough to thrust that despair upon Ermes and the others.
He realized, painfully, just how naive his calculations had been.
Did it sense their despair?
Kerberos advanced slowly, opening all three of its jaws. It intended to devour them—he knew that.
Even knowing that, he no longer had the physical strength to resist, nor the will. Nothing remained—
—But then.
*A thwip.*
A single, pitifully weak strike landed directly on Kerberos's body from a different direction.
"...Where do you think you're looking..."
The girl who had delivered that blow—Katia—said.
"My opponent is still right here. Come and face me—you mangy cur."
She was trembling with fear. Her face was twisted in despair.
Yet her eyes burned with an undying fighting spirit as she declared.
...Of course, she hadn't said it because she thought there was any chance of winning.
But when she saw Ermes—who had collapsed shielding her—and Sara—who had been protecting her—about to be killed by that monster, her body had moved on its own, and the words had come out naturally.
The blow had carried not the slightest bit of pain or irritation, but it did carry hostility. And hearing her provocative words—
Kerberos judged Katia to be a clear adversary—and lunged.
"—!"
He could barely see it.
The only reason he dodged was that his instincts told him a charge might be coming and he threw himself aside on pure reflex.
And naturally, the onslaught did not end. Kerberos came after Katia again, intent on tearing her apart and devouring her.
It was a more brutal beating than before.
Of course it was. Katia alone couldn't possibly hold out against an opponent that had required the combined efforts of Ermes, Katia, and Sara just to fight to a draw.
Her attacks didn't land at all. Even her one reliable asset—her defenses—were shattered like paper before the monster's extraordinary physical strength.
Wounds accumulated on Katia's body at a visible pace.
The fact that she hadn't taken a direct hit yet was practically a miracle. But it didn't matter. Sooner or later the accumulated injuries would topple her too. And that wouldn't be far off.
The voices of the phantom soldiers rang out.
—No good, run! —That thing's too strong, we can't protect you! —Lady Katia, if you die, it's all over!
She knew all of that.
But she couldn't retreat.
From somewhere, a familiar thought reached her.
Saying she didn't need to go that far.
It was true that her mother had raised her to become a proper noble, to protect the happiness of others.
She had been proud that Katia tried to emulate her way of life. But—you didn't have to emulate her way of dying.
"...You're wrong, Mother."
She didn't know whether the thought was truly from her mother or not. But Katia answered anyway.
She had admired her mother, yes. She had wanted to follow in her footsteps.
The pivotal moment that sparked that desire had been seeing her mother stand against a horde of powerful monsters—there was no mistake about that.
And to say she hadn't felt a kind of longing toward that proud, noble way of falling in battle—that would be a lie.
"I... I just—!"
But what she was thinking about now wasn't that.
The other feeling she had held that day, watching her mother. A feeling that was surely trivial and pathetic compared to admiration—simple and small.
Now, in a situation infinitely similar to that moment, it surged forth.
"I just—I don't want to watch someone I love die in front of me again!!"
That was fury.
Back then, all she could do was watch her mother charge forward.
She had wanted to protect her beloved mother, her family—with her own hands.
The reason she had been able to keep going all this time was surely not only admiration, but also this feeling.
So she wouldn't retreat. This time, she would be the one to protect them.
Riding that conviction on her magic, she resisted with everything she had—honoring the vow she made to herself that day.
...And yet, the enemy was even more overwhelming than it had been back then.
There was a realm where sheer willpower simply wasn't enough.
At last, the monster's charge grazed Katia's body at an even more dangerous angle than before.
"Tch!"
It wasn't a direct hit, but it was a charge from that colossal body. The energy surrounding it was beyond extraordinary—there was no denying her stance was broken.
Seizing that opening without an instant's hesitation, Kerberos swept aside every last phantom soldier clinging to it with a single swipe.
With inescapable timing, angle, and speed—the massive arm bore down on Katia—
—and *clang*, it was deflected.
Deflected by a cage of light. Then, blue light enveloped Katia, mending her wounds.
Katia spoke the name of the girl who had appeared at her side.
"...Sara."
"...Ermes told me to. He said to forget about him and go help you."
Then, she added quietly, looking straight ahead:
"I feel the same way. I want to help you—someone who, even in a situation like this, hasn't given up. ...I think that's what my magic is for."
Besides," Sara added with a small smile, "we still haven't properly made up yet."
"...Sara, you..."
—She had changed too, hadn't she?
When Katia had first seen her at school, she had seemed like a girl with almost no presence of her own. Obedient to those of higher status, certainly a good girl—but a girl who seemed to have little will of her own.
But now, she stood here and spoke her own words straight to Katia.
...The person who had brought about this change was surely not Katia, but Ermes.
She felt a small twinge of jealousy about that.
But more than that right now—
"Yes, I'd appreciate that."
—She was proud, impossibly proud, to have someone here who shared her conviction and was willing to stand by her.
"Good. ...If we make it through this fight alive, let's talk properly. About everything we haven't been able to say until now."
"...Yes!"
At Katia's response, Sara showed a lovely, joyful smile.
And then, the two girls turned toward the battlefield.
It didn't matter that the odds were zero. It didn't matter that their strength was insufficient.
What mattered was the will to stand and fight. The heart that wanted to protect.
Just as Katia's mother had proven—facing forward.
Ermes, collapsed on the ground, watched them.
He was extremely composed in battle. Perhaps partly due to his nature and upbringing, which had left him emotionally subdued, but he always made objective judgments and understood that willpower alone couldn't solve everything.
Now, having used Disenchantment to purge the lightning's effect and recovered, he surveyed the current state of the battle and reached a conclusion.
—They should run.
It burned, but strictly in terms of tactical judgment, Aster had made the right call. This monster's strength far exceeded anything he had imagined, and there was absolutely no vision of victory to be found.
The best course would be to retreat and call someone who could defeat it with high probability—muster every powerful Bloodline Magic user in the Royal Capital, or go ask his master for help.
"..."
Escaping this place with no casualties, with no one dying to that monster, would be impossible.
...But for Ermes alone, escape was not just possible—it would be easy.
After all, he possessed a Bloodline Magic that let him fly: the Seamless Great Eagle.
No matter how incomparably powerful Kerberos was, it surely didn't have flight capabilities. As long as he avoided that one lightning bolt—the only thing that could plausibly shoot him down—escape would be relatively straightforward.
If he pushed himself, he might even be able to take Katia and maybe one or two others with him.
He was neither a king nor a saint. Surviving and minimizing monster damage—that was the most reliable option, and he simply didn't have the luxury of hesitating over it.
...That was what he had been thinking.
"...I don't want to... leave..."
He murmured and looked forward. There, he saw two girls who, even in the face of despair, still refused to stop fighting.
—I thought they were beautiful.
They surely understood that there was no chance of winning. But they kept moving forward because there was something they wanted to protect.
Maybe it was someone other than themselves... or maybe it was something within themselves that they refused to yield.
He thought that was precious. He thought he wanted to see what lay beyond that.
He wished—wished, with all his might. He realized he could still wish.
...But. With his current strength.
With the magic he currently possessed, no matter how hard he tried, it wasn't enough—
"...Ahh... I see."
Feelings were beautiful.
Wishes were radiant.
But there was a vast, insurmountable gap between them and the act of making them real.
Sometimes it was human malice. Sometimes it was an unlucky turn of events. Sometimes it was simply how the world worked.
Various factors stood in the way of their fulfillment.
To give shape to something shining—this world was far too constrained for that—
"—That's why, you create magic."
And at last, he arrived.
Magic is the embodiment of feeling, the shape of a wish.
What he had spoken of countless times but never truly felt with any conviction beyond words and the magic that already existed—he finally, truly understood it now.
*This is the moment when people create magic.*
Fortunately.
The power to do so was already within him.
He recalled. The goal he had declared to Katia and when he came to the Trackia household.
That was why he had asked his master to teach him magic.
That was why he had studied and witnessed so many forms of Bloodline Magic.
That was why—
"I obtained this magic, didn't I?"
Remember.
The magic his master had taught him. The magic that freely reproduced any spell. The supreme magic that was bound by neither blood nor status—usable by anyone.
What exactly did that magic exist for? What was it called?
He didn't know if it would work.
It never had before, and if it had any reproducibility at all, he would have done it long ago.
But—even though he had no basis whatsoever, and he knew he had no room to laugh at Aster for saying things like this—
Still, he smiled, and murmured:
"...I feel like I can do it now."
And the boy stood up.
To give concrete form to the strongest feeling he had ever born—this was the reason.