The collapse of the Crimson Lapis Castle at the heart of the Demon City of
That was the truth behind the thunderous roar that shook the city—the nightmarish scene witnessed by all who were present.
The Crimson Lapis—in which red and blue danced together like a single gemstone—the beautiful precious stone from which the splendid castle had been constructed, was shattering as easily as a sandcastle.
For those who knew the Demon City, for its inhabitants, the impact was equivalent to the heavens themselves falling.
Something that should never have had occurred had happened, so profound was the shock that the line between dream and reality dissolved—and this was no exception even for those less familiar with the Demon City.
"— — —"
The tremors also reached a guest room in one of the inns prepared for outside visitors within the Demon City.
Some stared with frozen eyes; some tensed their entire bodies in heightened vigilance; some screamed and collapsed to the ground; some clung to the trembling of others to hold themselves together.
Though their reactions differed, what had struck them was equally a "threat."
And while they were gripped by it, paralyzed by primal fear—the irreversible crisis continued without pause.
"——Everyone, stand down!!"
In that instant, a sharp, overlapping voice cut through the frozen moment of terror.
Two voices that rang through the room—of the same quality, they hammered against the eardrums, rousing the brains on the verge of cognitive shutdown.
Those who snapped their heads upward found the source of that sharp voice to be—both of them, a black-haired individual.
One bare-faced, one behind a demon mask—the two men extended their respective arms toward the scene of catastrophic destruction visible through the window.
"Don't stop! If we delay in dealing with that, everyone will lose their lives!"
"It has swallowed the castle and still seeks to consume the sky. If we do not act now, casualties will multiply in the blink of an eye!"
"— — —"
"——Kafma Ilgirs!"
As though following the same train of thought, both men's gazes converged on a single person.
The man with brown skin—Kafma Ilgirs—looked bewildered, caught in a maelstrom of indecision about which way to turn.
But that confusion would not last long. Because— "——Stop that shadow's advance! Know that your hesitation is exchanged for the lives of the Imperial citizens!"
"——Yes, sir!"
The moment he was shown what action to take, the clear objective to pursue, the hesitation in Kafma's eyes cleared.
Kafma pressed his fist to his chest and bowed.
"I shall take my leave from your side. May the blessing of the Sun Sword be upon you!"
"Your efforts are my blessing. Give it everything you have."
"With all my might—!"
Answering with vigor, Kafma headed straight for the window.
Carrying his momentum, he leaped, slashing through the window with his outstretched arm. Glass shards scattered as he burst outside. Immediately after, Kafma's back swelled enormously, and from beneath the cloak he shed, six transparent wings unfurled.
Fluttering his insect-like wings, Kafma's figure tore through the sky of the Demon City.
His course was straight—toward the Crimson Lapis Castle being devoured by the overflowing shadows.
"How many did he bring?"
Watching Kafma take flight, the masked man—Abel—fired a sharp question. The target of that inquiry was the black-haired nobleman who had received Kafma's bow: Vincent.
The man sitting on the throne of the Volakia Empire narrowed his eyes slightly at Abel's question.
"His retinue is as you see. Kafma Ilgirs, and the absent Orvald Dunkelkenn. There's one more, but they're of little use."
"So you've held nothing in reserve? Your lightness has turned against you."
"It would be rather unreasonable to blame that on me."
At Vincent's candid revelation of his hand, Abel let slip a heartless remark. Vincent responded with a grimace, but Abel ignored it.
Placing his hand on his chin, Abel traced the lower edge of his demon mask with a finger, pondered for a few seconds, then let his gaze drift to the other occupants of the room—those unable to hide their alarm at the threat.
Without a word, two young girls reacted to that gaze.
One was
The only person who might possibly hold some card to play was— "A-Ah… Why, why, why of all times…"
"Al…"
In Abel's quiet gaze, a frightened voice went entirely unnoticed.
Clutching his head with one arm, terrified by the scene outside the window yet unable to look away—tormented by that dilemma—was a black-haired boy with his face hidden behind a ragged strip of cloth.
Among those Abel had brought along, this boy was, in a sense, the one whose depths remained most unrevealed. But this display of fear—which didn't seem like acting—made even the thought of factoring him into a strategy feel dubious.
It wasn't consideration for his feelings. Purely and simply, the judgment that he would be of no use.
"Then, there aren't many options available to us."
Vincent's words, spoken from beside Abel as the latter pondered, pierced him like a blade.
Standing side by side, the two men gazed out the window together—no, perhaps the two emperors should be called.
Abel dismissed the fleeting sentimentality that surfaced as meaningless and exhaled.
Vincent was right. There weren't many options.
And, as if in response to the same conclusion Vincent had surely reached, Abel spoke— "——I'll rendezvous with
△▼△▼△▼△ Sensing the shift in the air, Talitta moistened her dry lips with her tongue.
The change in atmosphere, the scent of pursuers, the killing intent and hostility directed at her—all of it told her something different from moments before, and she ran her thoughts over that judgment for just an instant.
Whether it was good or bad—which was it?
But— "——It doesn't matter either way."
If the outcome was the same, Talitta didn't waste time worrying.
She was already well aware that she wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. If this were her sister Mizelda, even with roughly the same mental makeup, instinctive intuition would have led her to the right answer.
But Talitta didn't have her sister's nose for things. And probably no talent either. She had nothing going for her.
Even if she spent time agonizing, she'd only end up wavering endlessly over whether she'd reached the right answer.
So she chose not to waver. Once the result came, she could agonize over whether it was right or wrong.
Therefore, Talitta didn't change her approach, even as the atmosphere around her pursuers shifted.
"Guh… gk…"
"You're not getting away… No matter how much strength you have…"
Talitta had her jacket's sleeve wound around the man's neck, choking him as he thrashed with bloodshot eyes.
The one-eyed ram-man fought desperately to free himself, but Talitta, who had removed her jacket and used the sleeve as a noose, had already severed the tendons in his arms to prevent him from fighting back.
Honestly, she'd been quite troubled by how tough the pursuers were—even after vital points were targeted, they kept getting back up.
"If I knew how to deal with you… I could manage somehow…"
"— — —"
Eventually, the man's gasping ceased and his body went limp. Timing it just right, Talitta removed her jacket from his neck and propped his falling body against the edge of the road.
Behind her, lined up along the street walls, were the bodies of pursuers she had choked unconscious—one after another, dotting the row.
Once she'd learned that strikes and knife attacks weren't effective but chokeholds were, she'd relied on nothing else.
Fortunately, the pursuers possessed extraordinary physical strength and stamina, but their technique for applying that power efficiently was amateur at best.
Thanks to that, Talitta's methods worked, and she was able to continue neutralizing pursuers without lethal force.
—It would have been much simpler if she'd been allowed to kill.
'Don't kill too many.' That single sentence had passed through her mind, and it had forced Talitta into a considerable struggle.
It was what Abel had told her just before they parted—when she was to serve as a diversion to help everyone escape from the inn.
Given the circumstances, she might have argued that he was asking the impossible. But would a man with Abel's eye for things make an impossible demand?
Or perhaps he had considered that if anyone could do it, it was Talitta—and had given the order on that basis.
If so, then Abel had seen through Talitta's abilities.
"— — —"
How far could Abel actually see?
Of course, seeing the secret arts that had struck Subaru, Medium, and Al made it clear that Abel was not a man who could perfectly anticipate every situation.
If he could do that, it would no longer be a human feat—it would be the work of something beyond the ordinary.
She didn't believe he was the kind of person who could transgress into such forbidden territory.
And yet, there was part of her that couldn't help but think he might be the kind of person who could reach its threshold.
Talitta of the Shudrak—who possessed the skill to take down any prey.
The fact that Talitta had mastered a chokehold that shouldn't work on beasts—and the reason behind it—Abel might well have known about that, too.
"Well, well. This is quite the spectacle, isn't it."
"—!"
The voice slipped into a gap in Talitta's consciousness as she stood thinking, frozen in place.
Abruptly pulled back to reality, Talitta drew the short blade in her hand and whirled around, ready to strike down the assassin who had silently crept up behind her— "Whoa, whoa, wait, wait! Let's not rush into things. That's a bit too hasty, don't you think!"
"…Who are you?"
"…Ah, are you okay? Calmed down? Is it safe for me to lower my hands?"
Just before rendering the man's limbs useless, Talitta stopped herself from swinging the knife.
Before her—hunched over, trying to protect himself in an ungainly posture—was a silver-haired gentleman in a blue hooded robe.
He had refined features, but his eyes lacked the burning intensity shared by the pursuers. More than anything, his amateurish bearing gave off no sense of danger.
However, the fact that he had slipped past Talitta's guard and gotten behind her could not be ignored.
"— — —"
"Oh dear, I seem to have earned quite a bit of distrust. I'm just an ordinary passerby who happened to come through here…"
"…An ordinary person wouldn't remain calm looking at this."
The reason Talitta couldn't lower her guard against this self-proclaimed harmless gentleman had just grown by one.
The corpses of pursuers lined up along the wall—bodies that no one would fault you for considering dead unless you approached to check their vital signs—and yet he remained composed.
Unless his heart had died, there was no answer besides that he was well accustomed to such scenes.
To Talitta's watchful gaze, the gentleman offered an embarrassed smile.
For a moment, she was almost distracted by the handsome man's grin. But vigilance against the dangerous outweighed reaction to beauty. For a pretty-boy type, Flop was quite enough.
—Not that now was the time to be thinking about him.
"No, no, you're right. It's certainly not a scene I'm used to from back home. As I said, quite a spectacle. —Hey, Talitta."
"—!"
"Ah, don't stab, don't stab! I may look suspicious, but I'm not your enemy!"
Her guard—which had loosened for just a moment—snapped tight in an instant.
The gentleman before her had calmly, as if addressing a long-time acquaintance, called Talitta by her name. Naturally, Talitta had no acquaintance with this man.
There was no one here who would know Talitta's name, and it wasn't information he should have been able to obtain.
The only possibility was that Abel and the others, after parting from Talitta, might have given him information— "Did you meet my family?"
"Hmm? You have family with you? Let's see—I've heard that the Shudrak don't often venture out from the forest. Has the chieftain changed policy?"
"Why would you know that I'm from the Shudrak…!"
"Oh dear, the more I say, the more I dig myself deeper. This is always how it goes."
The gentleman's apologetic tone seemed to deepen his familiarity with Talitta, but in contrast, Talitta's wariness of him and revulsion at his eeriness only intensified.
He wasn't showing any obvious hostility.
But the creeping sense of wrongness he exuded was slowly, carefully implanting in Talitta the dangerous impression that perhaps he should be eliminated here and now.
And Talitta knew—knew precisely how that seed of suspicion would sprout, what bud it would bear, what flower it would bloom into.
Because— "——The Defilement of the Shudrak."
"——Ah."
The words suddenly woven from the gentleman's lips drained Talitta's consciousness white.
"— — —"
Why had this man spoken those words?—No, how did he even know about them?
Because the last man who had spoken those words to Talitta had already— "Fate, you see. The Defilement of the Shudrak that you, Talitta, have become."
"F-Fate…?"
"It is what can be called the turning of the stars, or their guidance. Each person has their own destiny, as it were. And reciting such things is my job."
Staring blankly, Talitta listened as the gentleman shook his head with a sigh of "no, no."
Then he placed a hand on his chest, and with those eyes of his, looked straight into Talitta's.
"Our fate, I suppose you might call it."
"— — —"
Plural—he had said "our"—and Talitta swallowed hard, the sound of it echoing in her throat.
The sound was so loud it came with the illusion that the world itself had trembled.—No, Talitta's swallowed breath had not shaken the world.
But the world was, in fact, trembling.
Because— "Oh my, my."
A leisurely, almost carefree sigh escaped the gentleman.
But the event that had occurred was far too immense to be conveyed by his easygoing demeanor.
—Far from Talitta and the gentleman, in the center of the Demon City, the beautiful Crimson Lapis Castle that had stood there—its structure was collapsing with tremendous force, and its red and blue light was being swallowed by a black darkness.
Not metaphorically—a truly black darkness was engulfing the Crimson Lapis Castle.
As if the beautiful were being overwritten by the ugly, the radiant by the accursed.
"Oh dear, what a sight… This is a bit beyond what I could have recited, I think."
"You—"
Shielding his eyes with a hand, the gentleman gazed upon the crumbling castle and the overflowing darkness.
One could almost suspect that he—this man who remained composed through it all—was the cause of this extraordinary catastrophe. But as if sensing Talitta's suspicion, he shrugged.
"I know the timing is poor, given the talk about fate and all, but I have nothing to do with that. In the first place, isn't that a Kingdom of Lugnica problem? It's outside my jurisdiction."
"Outside your jurisdiction? The Kingdom of Lugnica…?"
"Could it be that she doesn't have the self-awareness of being a 'Star Reader'? If so, then His Excellency is making quite the bold gamble—perhaps out of necessity given the cards in hand?"
"You're making no sense…! You know something, don't you!"
Talitta stepped forward as if to compel an answer, grabbing the gentleman by the throat. She pressed his slight body against the wall and held her blade to his white neck.
If Talitta twisted her wrist, the gentleman's neck would immediately spurt blood.
The feel of the cold blade should have given him a vivid premonition of that outcome.
"I'm fairly certain my life or death has little bearing on how this situation resolves, but…"
"—!"
"On the other hand, you shouldn't be wasting time here. I haven't read the stars or anything, so this is purely my intuition, but—"
Even so, the gentleman looked Talitta dead in the eye, ignoring the knife entirely.
This was the moment Talitta's discomfort with the man peaked to its highest point. Without any clear reason she could articulate, the urge to simply slit his throat surged.
But just before she surrendered to that violent impulse— "——Killing me won't improve the situation. It didn't last time either, did it?"
—That single sentence kept Talitta from swinging the knife.
"Whoa!"
"Disappear! Right now…!"
Gritting her teeth, Talitta hurled the gentleman she'd been holding by the collar into the street.
He managed to stay upright on those long legs, rubbing his roughly treated neck with one hand, and peered up at Talitta's face. "Are you sure? This is rather like tightening the noose around your own neck… You may not get another chance to run into me like this."
"Good riddance. Every time I look at your face…"
"— — —"
"…It feels like being forced to face a nightmare I've had over and over again!"
With a cursing sensation, Talitta waved her hand as if to drive the gentleman away.
The gentleman sighed at the gesture, glancing toward the crumbling castle in the distance.
"It seems, unlike me, you have work to do. Perhaps that will be the trump card to quell that shadow."
"Me…? I don't have that kind of power…"
"——The fate has already been decreed. You know this—Defilement of the Shudrak."
"— — —"
"Whether you fulfill it or not is your choice. From the perspective of one upon whom no fate has been bestowed, it's rather enviable that you have a guide to follow."
With those parting words, the gentleman pulled his hood over his head and broke into a run, turning his back on Talitta.
The speed couldn't be called fast. If she wanted to catch up, she could do so instantly—but Talitta had no desire to pursue.
The thought that she never wanted to deal with him again was genuine enough.
But more than anything, the biggest reason was the last words he'd left behind— "——Fate has already been decreed."
She wished she didn't know what he meant. But she did.
And that knowledge had been tormenting Talitta endlessly for the past several days.
She didn't want to agonize before acting.
She didn't want to carry around that irresolvable anguish, endlessly gnawing at her—and yet, there it was.
"Talitta-chan!!"
"—! Medium?"
A voice she knew well called out to Talitta, who had been hugging her own shoulders, hunched over.
Hurrying to turn around, she saw a girl waving in her direction and running over—Medium, who had been shrunken from her tall stature, heading straight for her.
"Thank goodness! I found you right away, and you're unhurt, Talitta!"
"I'm glad you're safe too… Are Abel and Subaru all right? And what was that—"
Rapid-fire questions launched at the approaching Medium.
That she was alone, that she had been searching for Talitta—both were unexpected. Of course, the fact that the Crimson Lapis Castle had collapsed, that the game of hide-and-seek with Orvald was still ongoing—that was strange too, and it seemed unlikely they'd had time to discuss interrupting it.
To Talitta's questions, Medium replied, still slightly out of breath: "Abel and Al are safe! Subaru and Rui got separated! Also, we have to do something about the shadow from the castle, and Talitta, you need to come too!"
"Subaru and Rui? And where am I supposed to—"
"We're going to stop that shadow together with Yorna right now! Abel said he needs your strength too!"
"— — —"
Talitta's eyes widened, unable to contain her surprise at what she'd been told.
At the edge of her vision, the black shadow was expanding its unconscionable destruction to such a degree that even Talitta—who had been rattled by her exchange with the gentleman—couldn't help but acknowledge the reality.
Stopping that thing, challenging it—neither was an idea that had ever occurred to Talitta.
And on top of that, to hear that she was being summoned by Abel— "Talitta, are you hurt?! Can you still go? I'll do my best too, so let's do this together!"
Medium's unwavering words swept aside Talitta's hesitation.
No matter how much her stature might have shrunk, the straight, true heart within her had neither shrunk nor bent. As if drawn by that, Talitta quietly nodded.
"I understand.—Let's head there immediately."
"Thank you!"
The relief in Medium's broad nod struck a chord of pain deep in Talitta's chest.
The anguish that had tormented Talitta for so long, for so many days—forgotten in the heat of battle—was now asserting its presence before a greater battle, demanding a moment of decision.
"—Fate."
Talitta whispered the word into her own mouth, the same words that had been spoken to the now-vanished gentleman.
As if the word had been a name called out to her, she felt the anguish in her chest resonate.
△▼△▼△▼△ —Time returns to the moment the Crimson Lapis Castle collapsed under the inundation of great darkness.
"Kid—"
"Gwah!!"
The girl called Rui—who had been about to dart forward without hesitation—was pulled back.
Then, obeying the instinctive alarm that screamed through every nerve, heedless of the roof tiles exploding beneath them, Yorna kicked off hard and leaped backward.
The thick-soled heel shattered the tiles, the impact propagating to those around them, spreading the destruction.
But in the face of what happened next, the breaking of tiles was trivial.
"— — —"
With a dull roar, the overflowing shadow, the darkness, the pitch black swallowed the keep whole, and the shattered tiles vanished.
—No. It was not only the keep that was swallowed.
The Crimson Lapis Castle's keep—its upper floors, its middle floors—devoured by the black torrent flooding like a muddy stream, vanishing from the world before her very eyes. Yorna's eyes witnessed it all.
That was a darkness that should never be consumed.
A darkness that could not illuminate, from which there was no salvation once taken in—overwriting all hope with despair, rendering it invisible. True darkness.
Instinct told her.—That was something that should not exist.
"Guh!"
Restraining the struggling girl in her embrace, Yorna swept her gaze across the keep as it turned to black.
The moment that black shadow had erupted, she could not find the black-haired boy who had been at its center, nor Orvald, whose hand had been touching the boy.
In that instant, she had seen Orvald's arm—pulled back in a reflexive motion—vanish.
Even Orvald, who was ravenous for life and gifted with extraordinary danger perception, had been unable to avoid sacrificing his own arm. That was how overwhelming it was.
Because her priority had been leaping away with Rui, Orvald's fate was unknown.
Part of her believed that old eccentric couldn't possibly die—but another, colder voice within her asked whether she could really think that while gazing upon that pitch black.
And what twisted Yorna's thoughts more than Orvald's fate was— "Kid…!"
The fate of the boy—presumed to have been at the center of the black shadow that had devoured Orvald's arm.
In Yorna's assessment, the boy possessed no particularly outstanding abilities. Good at reading situations, never missed the moment to play a hand.
If anything, that was what had tilted the scales in his confrontation with Orvald—but that spoke to the boy's decisiveness, not to any superior ability.
Therefore, she had to conclude that the possibility of the boy having escaped was nil.
Of course, that was assuming the boy was purely a victim in all this.
"What if this is the kid's doing…"
Could it be that somewhere within that vast expanse of black darkness, the boy was hiding?
Yorna admitted to herself that she wanted to believe it wasn't—that the boy hadn't intended this. And while admitting that, she still had to make a judgment.
That judgment was precisely the mission she had to carry out as the master of the Demon City, the position she bore, the object of love she must choose— "—!"
The instant she thought it, the darkness before Yorna's eyes changed.
Having swallowed half of the Crimson Lapis Castle and now seeking to devour the lower floors and the walls as well, the portion of the shadow that constituted the keep squirmed and reached a "hand" toward Yorna and the others suspended in midair.
"— — —"
What reached toward them was, quite literally, a "hand"—with no other comparison possible.
Black hands, reaching for Yorna and for the girl she held in her arms. Not one or two—a full ten or twenty, extending all at once. It was breathtaking.
Their form resembled shadow puppets cast long in the sunlight, but there was nothing pastoral or gentle about these reaching shadows, because the arms that should have been expressionless overflowed with emotion.
The vast quantity of shadow, the black arms—the emotion they conveyed was singular: hunger.
Not the simple kind of hunger that meant an empty stomach.
It meant a bottomless hunger—a desire to consume everything.
"The kid's going wild. Watch your tongue so you don't bite it!"
"Guh, agh—!"
To evade the reaching shadows, Yorna—suspended in midair—resorted to extreme measures.
She didn't know the shadow's true nature, and having witnessed what it did to Orvald, she had set it in her mind that touching it meant death. There was no choice but to dodge everything.
So Yorna widened her eyes, drew the shattered tiles that had been caught up in her earlier jump toward her, and used them as footholds to create an escape path through the Demon City's sky.
With light, crisp sounds, Yorna's figure ascended high into the air, stepping from tile to tile as they flew toward her.
She drove one tile into the shadow arm as a feint, but the tile couldn't penetrate the shadow—the point of contact simply dissolved and was swallowed, vanishing into nothingness.
Leaving her speculation about what must not be touched aside, Yorna followed the trail of footholds ever higher.
If the reaching shadow arms couldn't keep up with her tile-climbing, all the better. Or if she could read the shadow's range, she could formulate a counter-strategy from there.
That said— "Being on the receiving end endlessly is rather vexing, it is."
It wasn't the being chased that bothered her.
That was certainly humiliating, but the greatest damage was, above all, the Crimson Lapis Castle itself.
Crimson Lapis was beautiful, and above all, a precious stone of extreme rarity.
To build a castle from it—the very idea was laughable. That a castle had been built wasn't because of Yorna's wealth or political power.
In truth, it wasn't even Yorna's idea to build the Crimson Lapis Castle.
The beautiful castle of dancing red and blue—the Crimson Lapis Castle—had been built by the citizens of the Demon City themselves.
They had decided that their ruler Yorna's residence should not be shabby. Each had contributed, gathering precious stones, constructing that magnificent castle together.
Rare precious stones. Difficult to work with. The hardships involved in building the castle were beyond what anyone else could imagine. Yorna was the same—she had never imagined the difficulties.
Without needing to imagine, Yorna had watched every moment of the castle's construction.
And so— "You have swallowed my love, you ravager—!!"
Yorna extended her slender, long fingers toward the shadow that was devouring her castle.
Nothing was emitted from them, nor was it a necessary motion. She simply wanted the shadow to know—this is my fury.
—In that instant, the colossal shadow that had swallowed the Crimson Lapis Castle was struck from within by a violent impact.
"— — —"
Whether the shadow had a physical form, let alone a will, even Yorna couldn't tell.
But she was certain of one thing: she had landed a solid blow.
What the shadow had swallowed was the Crimson Lapis Castle—down to every last stone of its walls, imbued with the citizens' love for Yorna.
How could that be just a castle?
How could she not love it?
The shockwave of the exploding castle hammered the black darkness's momentum from within.
The proof: the black arms that had been pursuing Yorna dissipated one by one, and nothing remained to chase her as she escaped through the air.
In her arms, Rui stirred, her eyes wide with astonishment at the explosion of Yorna's love.
But even this reaction—which could be called admiration—brought Yorna no joy.
"It was, after all, a castle. Some might say you can simply build another. And yet…"
"Hmm?"
"When I sought to build a new castle, only that castle—the one I loved through those days—was that castle. Is it because my feelings fall short that I find it cursed to love something that must perish?"
Looking down at the Crimson Lapis Castle—more than half devoured by shadow, its original form no longer recognizable—Yorna's chest ached with a stinging pain.
But there was no time for sentimentality.
Even though the pursuing shadow arms had dissipated, the source of that darkness had not vanished.
Moreover— "My pale skin tells me the threat has not diminished."
The impact of the swallowed Crimson Lapis Castle exploding had certainly carried the force of an entire castle striking back. And yet, despite taking that blow, the oppressive presence emanating from the black darkness had not wavered by a fraction.
The shadow was still very much alive—and naturally, so was its threat.
In other words, the condition of being unable to touch it remained unchanged, and she had to either construct or find a way to strike down that pitch black— "——Lady Yorna!"
That voice from the ground reached Yorna's taut eardrums from far below.
Looking down, the ones calling to Yorna were the citizens of the Demon City, gathering toward the collapsed castle. They were helping the castle soldiers who were crawling out from the rubble, aiding in the rescue.
To the black shadow, they must have appeared as irresistible prey.
"Everyone, get away—!"
Impelled by the danger signals flaring within her, Yorna called out to the citizens below, urging them to evacuate.
But she had climbed too high to fly down to them. The distance was too great, her hand couldn't reach. And it was unreasonable to expect all of them to share her sense of crisis.
—As a result, the shadow's overflow surged toward the citizens below Yorna's vantage point—the citizens who had gathered out of concern for her, the Demon City's ruler—and Yorna could not stop it.
And that was when— "——Don't let it have its way!!"
The citizens, frozen in place—the black shadow arms reaching for each and every one of them, about to swallow them into eternal emptiness—when from the side, their bodies were snatched away.
What accomplished this were deep-green thorns that had reached the citizens from afar.
Thorns Yorna had seen before—growing at ferocious speed, faster than the shadow, hooking the citizens' bodies on their barbs and pulling them to safety.
Only one person in the Demon City—despite its collection of peculiar creatures—could have done this, and Yorna knew exactly who.
"Kafma Ilgirs, by order of His Imperial Majesty, here to assist—!"
Thorns sprouting from both outstretched arms, transparent wings beating on his back—the man Kafma Ilgirs appeared at the center of the crisis, and Yorna's eyes went wide.
Not only at his bizarre appearance, but at the fact that he had protected her citizens.
In the past, Emperor Vincent had once dispatched an army to subdue Chaosflame, citing the suppression of Yorna's rebellion as its cause.
Kafma had been among those who had rampaged through Chaosflame in that army.
And yet here he was, taking action to protect Yorna's citizens— "No matter whom one serves, all are subjects of the Empire equally."
"— — —"
"General Yorna! I am well aware that our views are irreconcilable, but this cannot be left unattended! Allow me to cooperate!"
Meeting Yorna's stare with those words, Kafma beat his wings and soared through the sky.
Dancing freely through the air, drawing the shadow's attention toward himself, Kafma appeared intent on buying time with his mobility and striking power.
The question was what to do with that time.
"Guh! Aagh—!"
"The kid?"
"Guh!"
Yorna, contemplating her next move with Rui clinging to her chest, felt the child struggle again. But this time, the struggling was different from before—it wasn't the desperate, instinctive thrashing from earlier.
The girl twisted within Yorna's arms and pointed to a spot on the ground below, growling.
Following Rui's pointing finger, Yorna understood what she was trying to say.
And— "Kafma Ilgirs, for a moment, leave this place to my child."
"If that is what is needed, understood!"
"And also…"
"What is it!"
Weaving through the reaching shadow arms, Kafma would have preferred to concentrate on facing this powerful enemy. His voice rose slightly at Yorna's words.
Not meaning to interfere, but knowing it had to be said, Yorna spoke.
"Earlier—thank you for protecting my children."
"…As a general, it was only the natural thing to do!"
Kafma faltered slightly at Yorna's gratitude, but answered thus.
Returning to his role, buying the time needed—Yorna revised her assessment of him.
An uptight, inflexible man. That impression wouldn't change. But if he could see a single conviction through to the end, perhaps that was a virtue in itself. If circumstances permitted, he too might be someone she could love.
Of course, that wouldn't overturn her foremost priority, ever— "I'm going down. Hold on tight."
Tightening her grip in response to Rui's squeeze, Yorna used the debris of buildings floating in midair, torn-up ground, even clumps of soil as footholds, heading toward her destination.
Along the way, she instructed the citizens—who wanted to know what was happening—to get away from the Crimson Lapis Castle, or rather from the site where the castle had stood. Her path led to the rooftops of houses that now stood at a distance from where the castle had been.
And there, waiting calmly for Yorna's arrival, was— "I was certain your Imperial Majesty would come."
"Hmph."
Arms crossed, standing there with authority—a black-haired man with his face covered by a demon mask.
When Yorna landed before him, the man released his crossed arms as if he'd been waiting, and Rui darted from Yorna toward him.
Rui grabbed the man's arm, her long golden hair bouncing, and pointed toward the castle.
"Gwah!"
"I needn't be told the rest. In truth, we disagreed over your treatment. Yet you had the nerve to show your face before me."
"Guh! Guh!"
"Do you intend to follow me? If so, I'll add you to the count."
The man responded evenly to Rui's demands even as she tugged on his arm. Rui looked frustrated, but eventually let go with a reluctant expression.
That she didn't immediately run off—the girl must have been thinking in her own way.
—To retrieve the boy who had been swallowed by that black shadow, no matter what.
"Yorna Mishigure. You understand the situation, I trust. That cannot be left alone."
"I agree. A pitch-black darkness that annihilates everything upon contact—as the master of the Demon City, I cannot simply let it be. Besides, it swallowed my castle.—Did you know this would happen?"
"I suspected something would happen. What exactly—that was beyond my predictions."
"— — —"
Yorna narrowed her eyes, trying to read the true intentions of the man before her.
But his heart was hidden behind the demon mask, and she couldn't read it even if she tried. Though, even without the mask, she likely couldn't have seen through him.
A solitary existence who never let anyone glimpse his thoughts, his heart, his schemes—that was how the seventy-seventh Emperor of the Holy Volakia Empire conducted himself.
In other words— "——Your Excellency."
"Don't address me so carelessly. Unless you wish to have your letter of request torn to shreds."
"My apologies.…How did you know of my wish?"
"I had no certainty. Not until your messenger returned safely to me."
Hearing that answer, Yorna felt both admiration and exasperation at the man's way of thinking.
He had been testing whether his own assumptions were correct based on whether the messenger from their meeting yesterday returned safely.
In that regard, Yorna was bitter about having danced right in the palm of his hand.
But more than that— "Your Excellency should have scolded those messengers once, at the very least."
"That too—everything, only after the matter is settled. Yorna Mishigure, follow my instructions."
"…If it is the best course, then I have no choice but to comply."
At the emperor's high-handed manner, her hesitation and resistance lasted only an instant.
Yorna had things to protect. The Demon City of Chaosflame, and its citizens. To protect them, she needed someone with the ability to properly resolve this situation.
Not fighting power—but governing power.
Yorna had her own pride in that ability. But her comparison was unfair.
Who in this world could match strength with a man who ruled the greatest empire in the world?
"Then, what do you intend to do?"
With the resolve to adopt any strategy necessary to protect the Demon City, Yorna asked.
Rui, who had at some point returned to stand beside her, fixed the man with a sharp gaze, agreeing with Yorna's resolve.
Receiving the stares of both Yorna and Rui, the man—the empire's ruler—nodded.
And— "——Abandon the city and conduct a fighting retreat. The Demon City must be fed to that shadow."