The silence in the cathedral was suffocating. None of the paladins wanted to admit what they had just heard—that a true demon lord had been born. The weight of it pressed down on them, too heavy to ignore, yet too terrifying to acknowledge.
Hinata's voice, calm yet cutting, shattered the stillness.
"Reihim. From what you have seen… has he awakened?"
Reihim, trembling, lowered his gaze. His voice was hoarse, but resolute.
"Yes. The sacrifice of twenty thousand lives was more than enough to awaken him… to awaken the Demon Lord Atem."
Hinata's eyes narrowed. "I see…"
Her thoughts moved swiftly. How fortunate it was that the Holy Church had not rushed blindly to subjugate Eterna. If Atem had already ascended to the rank of a true demon lord, then numbers were meaningless. Even the strongest soldiers without sufficient power would be nothing more than lambs to the slaughter. The proof was already before them: the annihilation of the elite subjugation army.
She whispered to herself, almost inaudibly, "I'll have to face him personally, then…"
A hundred paladins at most—no more. To bring regular soldiers would only invite unnecessary deaths. If there was any chance of victory, it would come through precision, strategy, and her direct leadership. Hinata's mind accelerated, calculating paths, countermeasures, contingencies. Perfect victory was the only option.
Then, without warning, Reihim groaned in agony. His chest convulsed—then a face emerged, etched into his flesh, twisted in torment before settling into a calm, unnatural expression.
"—Test… test… can you hear me?"
The voice was deep, commanding, layered with a faint echo.
(It connected…)
(Connected? Impossible… to him?!)
"Yes," the face continued. "It seems the link works. Ahem. I suppose introductions are in order. I am Atem, the Lord of Eterna. This is not a live conversation, but a recorded message. Speak if you like, but know your words will not reach me."
The paladins froze, their swords half-drawn, confusion spreading across their ranks. To speak through a man's body like a puppet—this was sorcery beyond them. Even so, they dared not interrupt. Hinata, ever composed, did not flinch. Her stillness was absolute, her mind sharpening with each passing second.
Atem's voice resonated, steady, unyielding.
"Do you find this envoy unsettling? Good. You should. But don't mistake this for cruelty. This is not my style—it is simply effective. What matters is the message."
He paused deliberately, letting the silence weigh heavy before he continued.
"You attacked first. I hold witnesses to prove it. You cannot conceal your guilt. Now, I ask: how do you intend to compensate for this? If you admit your mistake and seek forgiveness, I can grant it. But if you continue to posture with self-righteousness, insisting that no man or nation should 'collude with monsters'—then understand this. I will meet your hostility with all of my strength."
His voice hardened, like steel drawn from its sheath.
"I will fight with no retreat. No compromise. No regrets."
The cathedral seemed to tremble. Several knights instinctively stepped back, their hands shaking.
A faint secondary voice broke in, almost like a whispering echo, hesitant.
(…Master, isn't it sometimes wise to show leniency—?)
Atem's tone snapped like a whip.
"Silence. Dignity is not bought with hesitation."
The echo faded instantly. Atem continued, his voice colder now.
"Those are my terms. Choose carefully. If you value survival, weigh them well. This is not a threat—it is a judgment. My patience is finite."
The face embedded in Reihim's chest fell silent. The cathedral was drowned in stillness once more, but this time, it was a silence borne of fear.
Atem had spoken. And his words left no room for doubt.
The message continued, carrying the weight of Atem's presence.
"Changing the subject—Hinata is present, yes? This recording activates upon sensing vibrations from you. Now, listen carefully: how dare you attack Eterna without first hearing me out. You came close to death because of your rashness. But consider this—a pity, for you survived. Should you approach me in such arrogance again, I will meet you with my full strength.
"However… I prefer a rational conversation. Reflect on that option. If, after discussion, we still find our positions irreconcilable, then we will settle matters in due course. Convey your reply through this envoy.
"The heads embedded in this body are those of the so-called Blood Shadows. They slew my comrades. I could not forgive them. So I killed them and embedded their heads within this envoy, which was already dead. I made it undead to ensure it suffered. Should it return with your reply, I will ease that suffering. If you wish to destroy it on your end, use Disintegration. Attempt anything less, and you will only prolong its agony. Take note of that.
"Now, I am heading to Walpurgis. Whether we resolve this diplomatically or through combat will depend on what survives my journey. Likely a week will pass before I return. Discuss among yourselves and provide your reply. I expect a thorough and reasoned response. Do not disappoint me."
The recording ended, leaving a tense stillness in the cathedral. The paladins stared at Hinata, their trust in her absolute. She met their gazes calmly, her composure unshaken.
Internally, her mind was racing, sorting through the avalanche of information. She ignored the occasional murmurs around her. Atem's tone had been measured, but there was no mistaking the severity behind every word. This was no frivolous remark—every statement carried the weight of a sovereign who wielded the power to decide life or death.
The critical point was clear: Atem had likely analyzed her trump card, Disintegration. The spell might fail against him. That it was a bluff was possible—but she could not afford to assume it so lightly.
Her one regret gnawed at her, unusual for someone of her usual precision: she had failed to anticipate his survival in their previous encounter. That lapse had led to this precarious situation. Atem's presence, deliberate and calculating, reminded her that underestimating him—or overestimating herself—could lead to disaster.
She breathed steadily, masking the tension beneath her calm exterior. Her decisions would guide not only her paladins but the fate of the Holy Empire itself. And in that cathedral, with Atem's message resonating like a sovereign's decree, she knew one truth above all: this was no mere conflict. This was a confrontation with the force of a true demon lord, and only utmost care, precision, and respect for his strength could see them survive the storm to come.
Another critical realization struck Hinata. They had clearly investigated the Holy Church. The question of whether they were willing to "collude with monsters" revealed that Atem knew the doctrines intimately. He understood not only their beliefs but also their unspoken limits. And then he asked, almost casually, if they were willing to join forces.
To Hinata, it was an astoundingly naive perspective—recklessly idealistic for a being capable of staggering destruction. Atem, in her estimation, had the precision of a ruler but the confidence of one who saw far beyond ordinary comprehension.
And yet… the strangest part remained: Atem had not lied when he claimed, during their previous encounter, that he had come from another world. Every word, every nuance of the language he used—the subtleties of the phrasing—were unmistakably familiar to her. It was Japanese, her language, perfectly natural and precise. There was no deception in that. Hinata knew, in that instant, that the truth of his origins had to be real.
She opened her eyes, which she had closed almost instinctively, and without hesitation activated Disintegration. Reihim's body shattered into nothingness in an instant, the spell consuming him completely. If Atem's warning had been genuine, eliminating Reihim quickly was the only way to prevent further suffering—both for him and for those he carried within.
Then she addressed her paladins, her voice unwavering:
"Do not be deceived. The doctrines of the Holy Church are absolute. You are not to be swayed by the words of a monster!"
A fleeting contradiction crossed her mind—but she suppressed it. She could not reveal the complexity of her internal reasoning to the others. The paladins did not know that she had acted on Atem's words out of tactical foresight, not out of doubt in her faith. As the commander of the imperial guards, she needed to maintain the image of resolve and certainty. Hesitation would ripple through the ranks and weaken their discipline.
Her gaze swept across the assembled paladins. Their eyes reflected trust, unwavering trust in her judgment. As their captain, it was her duty to be their anchor, to model the certainty they could cling to even in the face of an overwhelming unknown.
She folded her hands briefly, thinking:
(Now… what is the next step?)
For the first time, Hinata was aware that she could not rely on confidence alone to secure victory. Atem was not just a monster—he was a being whose intellect and power dwarfed ordinary calculation. Any conventional approach, even her meticulous strategies, might not be enough.
Still, she did not waver in her resolve. Gloom pressed upon her mind, but it was not fear; it was the weight of careful consideration. She began the methodical process that defined her: breaking the problem down, analyzing each element, predicting outcomes, and calculating contingencies. Each possibility, each variable, was filed and evaluated.
To Hinata, this was not despair—it was a challenge. A difficult problem to solve. And she knew, as always, that with sufficient logic, discipline, and clarity of thought, the path forward would reveal itself.
Even in the shadow of a demon lord, even in the presence of a sovereign whose power could rend armies in a single strike, Hinata's mind was sharp, her will steady. The calculations had begun.