"That is more than enough. Between you and that dragon, the matter of 'rank' has already been decided. That dragon will never bare its fangs at you or the young lady again."
Even as she listened to the words of the elderly man—an old figure leaning on a staff, who had somehow come to stand behind her without her noticing—Rinie's taut tension did not ease.
Yet her vigilance was not directed at the dragon below, but at the old man who had appeared at her back.
(…This guy.)
Rinie frowned.
Anger welled up at her own carelessness for letting someone take her back unnoticed.
…But even setting that aside, what troubled her more was the question of who this old man was—someone who could approach this close and speak to her without her noticing at all.
If he were a shadow warrior, she would have sensed the discomfort of there being absolutely no magic power whatsoever. She had exploited that very arrogance in her days as an executor and slain several of them.
But this old man was different.
In the art of magic control, erasing magic entirely and maintaining it at a constant level are completely different things. Sealing a container shut is far easier than leaving its lid slightly open.
This old man had stood behind her while maintaining magic power that blended into the surrounding natural objects—almost as if it had merged with them.
Unless one were Rinie in her days as an executor, or a mage sung of as a harbinger of funeral rites, such control over magic would be unattainable.
Still, now that he had spoken to her, there was no reason she could not respond.
"Do you really think I'd stop just because you say that?"
"…Indeed. I have no right to stop you, having been unable to do anything myself. Before I could even activate my sealing arts or Zoltraak, you would already have turned around."
…You understand quite well, don't you, Rinie thought, feeling a trace of admiration.
The False Divine Era Shattered Sword, Schwer Volke II, was a demon sword that could be wielded as a blade even in close combat. She could easily revert it from its twisted arrow form back into a normal sword and cut the old man down the instant she turned.
Precisely because of that, her doubts toward the man behind her only deepened.
Her arrow remained trained on the dragon below, yet her vigilance never strayed from the old man.
"…However, thanks to that dragon serving as a deterrent, no foreign army has ever invaded this city."
In stark contrast to the shock spreading through the townspeople, the old man calmly declared this startling truth. Rinie did not move an inch.
She had suspected as much.
"Even so, we could not reveal the dragon's presence and plunge the city into confusion. That is why we deliberately kept the existence of its nest secret. Originally, that dragon never harmed anyone who did not enter its territory. Ever since it drove away foreign soldiers who trespassed into that domain, other nations' armies have feared it and stayed away from this city."
"…That's only true until the dragon itself becomes a threat, isn't it?"
It meant nothing to her—but if so, then this old man had no reason to stop her either.
"But you overwhelmed that dragon. Until now, it had no natural enemies. That is why it could not grasp its own position within this world of survival of the fittest. …But it has now met an enemy that taught it that lesson. Dragons are wise creatures. It will not attack a city it knows such a being comes and goes from."
Is this man mocking me? Rinie swallowed the words that almost escaped her lips.
In short, the old man was betting on her strength, claiming that the dragon would never attack the city again because of her.
As if she had any intention of becoming their convenient warding charm.
"You're thinking I must be joking, aren't you? …But the cruelty of humans who are steeped in war and have forgotten morality can surpass even that of dragons. To be burned to ashes in an instant by dragonfire, or to be exposed to the malice of unrestrained humans… which do you think is worse?"
With his eyes closed, the old man sighed and spoke firmly.
"…I beg you. I know I have no right to say this. As the bare minimum of sincerity, I spoke to you from within your range—though to you it must have come as a shock. Even so… please…"
"… "
The old man bowed his head.
Rinie remained silent, her hand still gripping the hilt of the demon sword nocked to her bow.
"…I want to ask you one thing. You've realized who I am, haven't you?"
"…What are you talking about?"
"Earlier, you let slip the words 'sealing arts.' And your magic control that slips past even my magic detection. I've heard of it—among the southern nations, there is a clan of mages specializing in anti-demon techniques, whose livelihood is sealing demonkind."
"…You figured that out from just that, hm. Well, these days I'm nothing more than a feeble old man serving as a village elder. I can't even drive off a single dragon."
Demons and dragons are entirely different beasts, the old man muttered.
"I never thought I would meet here the very cause of our clan's declining work. You're far too accustomed to killing demons close to us. And to think that your true nature was that of a demon yourself… I don't even know how I'm supposed to react."
"So what will you do? Seal me here?"
"…Hardly. I wouldn't raise my hand against a benefactor. And if I did, I'd earn the hatred of another benefactor as well."
"I'd rather not be hated by a young lady," the old man added with a wry smile.
Rinie immediately understood that the "other benefactor" he referred to was Ange, and a sudden worry struck her—what was Ange doing now?
"It was that girl who called out to nearby adventurers and led the evacuation of the townspeople. After that, she shielded those who couldn't escape in time from the dragon's attacks.
"I became certain of your identity shortly thereafter. That shield of light you deployed to protect the injured girl—people mistook it for the magic of that young priestess, but… a shield carrying such a demonic aura could never be a goddess's blessing.
"The young lady herself seemed surprised. And once you realize that, it's easy to imagine that it was the work of the one standing behind her."
"…So?"
"…So… yes, I understand. I have no right to stop you. For you, whose companion was injured, that dragon must be unforgivable. You are free to ignore my words. Even if you do, I will feel nothing but gratitude toward you—no resentment. But please… won't you listen?"
"…For a member of the Kanmu clan to bow his head and beg a demon, huh."
It was so absurd it almost made her stomach hurt, Rinie scoffed.
She had no obligation to grant the old man's request.
In fact, she had even considered eliminating him along with the dragon.
Even as an old man, he was of the Kanmu clan, specialized in sealing demons, with magic control refined enough to stand behind her unnoticed—and, above all, he knew her true nature.
He was a threat. Better to deal with him now.
(…But.)
This man was the elder of that city.
What would be the risk of killing him?
(If the risk were mine alone, that would be fine.)
In that case, she could simply leave quickly.
But Ange was different.
The townspeople had already seen Ange and Rinie together many times.
A missing elder. A missing girl. And a person often seen with that girl.
Suspicion would inevitably fall upon Ange.
…It was while weighing that risk—
"■— ■■— …"
The rubble at the bottom of the cliff began to shift.
Summoning the last of its strength, the battered dragon rose, freeing itself from beneath the debris.
"■— ■— ■■■— …"
Even so, it no longer had the strength to fly—nor even to stand properly.
Groaning in agony, the dragon crawled along the valley floor, trying to leave this place.
"—!"
Rinie did not let it escape. She adjusted her aim, aligning the bow once more with the dragon's moving body.
The twisted, narrowed tip of the demon sword locked precisely onto the dragon's head.
All that remained was to release her hand—and it would be over.
And just as she was about to let go of the hilt—
"Thanks to that dragon serving as a deterrent, no foreign army ever invaded this city."
Suddenly, the old man's earlier words crossed her mind.
At the same time, the hand that had been about to release the arrow came to a halt.
The old man believed that as long as a powerful being like herself existed, the dragon would never lay a hand on that city.
But that was a fragile peace, one premised on her continuing to come and go from the city.
…And yet… even so…
—Isn't that fine? You have no intention of leaving Ange and the others anyway, do you?
—At the very least, until Ange and the others live out their lives, you're thinking it's fine not to return to being an executor, aren't you?
And on top of that—
—If, in the end, it means fewer victims.
"—!"
Once again, a hazy train of thought passed through Rinie.
An unpleasant feeling welled up in her chest, but somehow she instinctively knew that if she did not follow this thought, she would regret it.
After much deliberation, Rinie finally—
"..."
Lowered her bow, letting the hand that held the demon sword hang limply at her side.
At once, the sword—twisted and thinned into the shape of an arrow—returned to its proper form. Without saying a word, Rinie made it clear to the old man that she no longer intended to slay the dragon.
"…You have my thanks. Noble demon who cares for others."
Once again, the old man bowed deeply toward Rinie's back in gratitude.
Even the anger Rinie felt toward the dragon was, at its core, a precious emotion born from caring for someone dear.
She had suppressed that feeling and accepted his request nonetheless.
Because he understood that, the old man poured all his gratitude and respect into those words.
"..."
Rinie, for her part, seemed to have no desire to see the old man's face.
Keeping her back turned, she began walking toward the city.
"…The young lady is currently receiving treatment and sleeping at the inn. You should go see her."
Hearing those words, Rinie leapt toward the city without turning around.
Watching her disappear, the old man let out a long sigh.
"…What a troublesome matter."
Concerned for the demon girl who had just departed, the old man gazed up at the sky.
The vast blue sky seemed to celebrate the peace that had safely arrived—or perhaps to sneer at what lay ahead.
That girl was a demon.
Even if she had left her clan, there was no reason for an old man of the Kanmu clan to simply overlook a demon who moved freely within human society.
And yet, within the old man, there was never even the option of doubting Rinie.
Because—
"—If even that expression were an act, humanity would have been destroyed by demons long ago."
The old man recalled the moment.
When the people protected by the shield of light Rinie had deployed gathered together, mistaking it for Ange's doing and showering her with praise.
The old man had watched from afar. He had seen it.
Rinie's expression as she looked upon the rejoicing crowd before the dragon fled.
The one who should have been praised, celebrated, and thanked above all others.
The very person who ought to have been most dissatisfied with that situation.
The girl who had never once smiled in this city.
—Yet among them all, she wore the most relieved expression.
He wished it were a lie.
Without seeking thanks, without even feeling displeasure that all that gratitude was directed at someone else… the demon girl had simply gazed at the people she had protected, smiling happily.
Such a thing should not be possible.
This was not a matter of demons or humans.
A girl of her age should be smiling in ordinary circumstances—yet that she could smile like that in such a situation made no sense.
A girl who sought no reward, no gratitude, and smiled only at the fact that she had "protected" others. And if she were a demon, what kind of life would she have had to live to be broken to that extent?
"…Truly, a troublesome matter."
Only then did the old man realize that the fact he could trust that girl more than anything else was what angered him the most.
◇
—I am the bone of my sword.
A man's voice could be heard.
Those words were familiar.
He still did not know what language they belonged to.
And yet, a girl who had somehow slipped into his everyday life had spoken the same words.
—Steel is my body, and fire is my blood.
Once again, a familiar verse.
As those words echoed, the scene gradually came into view.
A sky glowing with the colors of dawn.
Below it, a barren plain filled with countless swords thrust into the ground.
On a hill in that wasteland, the back of a single boy stood in sight.
—I have created over a thousand blades.
As soon as the man's next line was heard, the landscape of sword-filled hills shifted once more.
With a harsh metallic clatter, countless gears appeared, hanging as if suspended from above the clouds, filling the sky and blotting out the powerful dawn light.
At the same time, the sky itself changed—from a vigorous morning glow to the dim, ominous hues of an apocalyptic sunset.
Beneath that sunset sky, covered in innumerable gears, the figure standing upon the hill of swords was no longer a boy, but a knight clad in a red cloak.
Swords pierced his body, and the expression beyond his back could not be seen.
…How terribly sad a back that was, Ange thought.
Was this end-of-the-road landscape, this scene of ruin, truly where the boy she had first seen had arrived?
—Unknown to death. / Unfaced to darkness.
"…Huh?"
The moment the next verse reached her ears, Ange doubted her hearing.
Alongside an unfamiliar continuation spoken by the man, she heard a familiar line in a familiar girl's voice.
Amidst static-like noise, the red-cloaked knight's back and the slender, familiar back began to overlap, alternating.
The scenery shifted—from a sunset sky filled with gears to a night sky where a full moon shone brightly.
With each surge of noise, the alternating images began to change.
—Nor known to life. / Nor faced to light.
Eventually, as the overlapping, differing verses spoken by the man and the girl came to an end—
The scene fully changed.
On that familiar back, just like the red-cloaked knight before, swords were thrust deep.
The full scope of the moonlit wasteland was shrouded in haze, impossible to see clearly.
What was visible was the back of a familiar girl—pink hair flowing down her back, two horns rising from her head—bathed in moonlight.
And countless swords embedded in the mosaic-like earth.
"…No."
The word slipped from her lips.
"…That's not allowed…!!"
She did not wish to deny the man's destination, nor the life he had walked. Knowing his way of life, she could not reject it, no matter how tragic its end.
But for you to follow that same path—that was wrong…!!
Because if that happened, there would be no salvation left at all.
Neither the man who had walked that path, nor the girl who was about to unknowingly follow it, would be saved.
That was why she desperately reached out her hand toward that back—
"…Mm…"
She awoke wrapped in the pleasant sensation of soft, fluffy fabric.
The faint light streaming in through the window made it impossible to deny that evening was already close at hand.
"It's already this late… huh—!?"
Rubbing her eyes, she looked around—and was left speechless by what she saw.
Surrounding the bed were countless packages, filling every corner of the room.
Each was wrapped in lavish decorations: accessories, fresh high-quality fruit, fine ingredients—there were even large quantities of prepared dishes.
Everything gave off the air of gifts meant to honor a great contributor. Some even had letters attached, bearing messages like "Thank you for protecting our city," "Long live the Saintess," and "Yuri with Rinie when??"
"Eh… what… why is all this here? I mean, I remember…"
Clutching her head with both hands, Ange tried to recall what had happened before she fell asleep.
She had been talking with Lady Rinie when a dragon attacked the city.
Rinie had repelled it with a shield of light to protect her, and somehow people mistook Ange for the one who cast it. She was treated for her injuries, and then—
"Right, I collapsed in the middle of treatment—what about everyone in the city? And Lady Rinie…?"
"Awake already?"
At the sudden sound of a familiar voice, Ange snapped her head in that direction.
There—sitting by the wall, biting into an apple scavenged from among the gifts—was Rinie.
"L-Lady Rinie… what on earth are all these presents…?"
"'From everyone in the city, to the Saintess who saved us,' apparently."
Crunching on the apple, Rinie stood up.
Still unable to fully grasp the situation, Ange watched as Rinie stepped around the gifts and came closer.
Sitting down on a chair beside the bed, Rinie met Ange's eyes with a faintly gentle expression.
"For now, I'll explain what happened. …Though for you, Ange, it's turned into a bit of a hassle."
With a slightly guilty look as she averted her eyes, Rinie explained everything that had occurred.
How the dragon had regained consciousness afterward, and how Rinie had chased after it.
How, just before delivering the finishing blow, the village elder caught up and stopped her—and as a result, she refrained from killing the dragon.
And while Rinie was driving the dragon out of the city, Ange—who had been receiving treatment at the inn—had collapsed.
"The doctor said it was magical exhaustion, plus injuries and fatigue. You should rest for a while."
"…I see."
"I went back to the monastery once while you were asleep and explained things to the kids. Tonight, they'll send us back to the monastery by carriage, luggage and all."
"That must have worried them. And Lady Rinie, thank you for going back out of your way."
"It's nothing. The townspeople actually wanted to hold a grand victory celebration, but the elder was concerned about your condition and convinced them to make it gifts instead. This is the result."
"I see," Ange said, finally understanding.
These gifts were all expressions of gratitude from the townspeople, meant for "Ange the hero who saved the city."
…That realization made her feel strangely uncomfortable.
Because the one who had truly saved the city wasn't her—
"…Shouldn't that gratitude really be directed at you, Lady Rinie…?"
"In the end, I get to share in the rewards anyway, so there's no problem."
"That's not the point…!"
Rinie spoke casually, still crunching on her apple, and Ange felt irritation steadily rising.
Because she had seen it—however vaguely—the path he had walked.
And she feared that the girl she cherished might be about to walk that same path.
She didn't want Rinie to live a life where "someone else matters more than herself."
Ange wanted Rinie to be happy.
No—if she were honest, she wanted to be happy together with Rinie.
Rinie probably believed she was behaving properly as a demon.
But looking back on everything so far, Ange was now certain that fragments of that way of life had already begun to surface.
After all, despite all the demon-like justifications Rinie had given, every single one of her actions had been for their sake—not her own.
What did Rinie gain from continuing to kill demons?
What did she gain, as a demon, from staying in one place and protecting it?
Even this time—she should have been the true hero who saved the city. So why did she calmly accept it without asking for gratitude or reward?
This wasn't about demons or humans.
Ah… she understood now.
"…My body is made of swords."
"—!?"
At Ange's quiet murmur, Rinie's eyes widened in shock.
Ange didn't miss that reaction.
"That's what that spell means, isn't it?"
"…How… why…"
For once, Rinie visibly faltered, words failing her.
From her perspective, it made no sense.
A chant spoken in a language not of this world—who could have imagined its meaning would be exposed?
"I don't know the later verses, but both he—and you—started with that line. In the dream I was just having…"
"..."
"What is that…? That's practically a curse, isn't it!? Are you saying you've lived alone all this time, chanting such a curse!?"
"…It's not a curse. I am a 'sword' for my own sake. That's what demons are, Ange."
"That's exactly what I'm saying is wrong!!"
Their words no longer aligned, and Ange's voice grew louder.
Tears wouldn't stop.
…Ah, she still didn't realize it.
Despite having strayed from what it meant to be a demon, her demon mindset and self-image were still rejecting that truth.
If she truly were only a sword for herself, then none of her actions so far made sense—yet she was convinced they were solely for her own sake.
How utterly hopeless.
"…Isn't it enough already, Lady Rinie?"
"Ange?"
"Quit being an executor… throw away the sword… and let's live there together with everyone, forever…"
—Please… just don't become a "hero of justice."
She believed Rinie could still turn back.
If Rinie ever truly chose that path of her own will, Ange knew she could no longer stop her.
But if she was still only being influenced—then it was possible.
Before she fully awakened to that identity, if Ange could give her a human kind of "happiness," then maybe—just maybe—she could return Rinie to the girl who had once lived happily on that farm.
Clinging to that hope, Ange begged Rinie with all her heart.
For a while, silence ruled the scene.
Rinie stared intently at Ange, who continued to cry.
"…I still haven't answered your first question."
"Huh?"
"Back then, the dragon's attack made everything get swept under the rug, but…"
Lowering her gaze, Rinie began to speak.
"When you brought up him, I was surprised, and I still wonder how you could even see something like that. …To be honest, I don't understand what you're trying to say, Ange."
Rinie's narrowed eyes and the weak fist she clenched made her look, to Ange, like a small child desperately holding back tears.
"…But that's probably because I don't even understand myself. Ever since I started living with you, Ange… everything became unclear. Why did I ever become an Executor in the first place…?
So no matter what you say about me, if I don't even understand who I am, there's no way I could understand it…"
Ange lowered her eyes in disappointment, thinking her words had not reached the girl before her. But then Rinie's next words made her lift her face again.
"But now… while I'm with you all, I think it's okay not to go back to being an Executor. Right now, as long as I can be with you, that's enough… I think."
"Lady Rinie…?"
Ange stood there, stunned, unable to believe the words that had just come from Rinie's mouth.
She had never imagined that such words would come from Rinie, who had always spoken with cold, demon-like logic.
"When that dragon hurt you, Ange… an unbearable feeling welled up inside me. I don't have proof, but… I think it was what you humans call 'not wanting to lose you.'"
Rinie recalled that moment.
She hadn't been calm. She couldn't have been.
A heat that went beyond even the rational thinking of demons.
Without caring about how much mana she had left, she had nearly used even the False Divine Era Shattered Sword, Schwer-Bolk II.
"Demon words are nothing but lies meant to deceive humans… but this—this alone—please believe that these words are true…"
At those words, Ange finally couldn't hold back any longer.
Ignoring the pain wracking her injured body, she lunged forward and wrapped both arms tightly around Rinie.
"Lady Rinie, Lady Rinie, Lady Rinie…!!!"
"Ange… if you move too much, your wounds—"
Rinie said something, but Ange hugged her as if to say she didn't care.
She wasn't completely reassured. Rinie hadn't said she would quit being an Executor.
Even so, she had said, in her own words, that she wanted to be with them.
Rinie, who had always lined up demon-like justifications for staying together, had said it plainly.
There was still time.
Ange swore in her heart that she would take that time to restore this girl's happiness.
Until the notice came that the carriage had arrived to fetch them, Ange's embrace did not loosen.
◇
This was from a time before Rinie had ever met Ange.
One battle had come to an end.
A clash between two nameless demons.
A battle between a nameless great demon who sought "dialogue" and a nameless Executor who rejected it.
The fight ended in a draw, but the wounds suffered by the nameless great demon were far more fatal.
"Hah… hah… ah—"
The wounded great demon lay pitifully collapsed on the forest floor.
Beneath the kimono she wore—much like those worn by human women—her body no longer retained anything resembling a human form.
Under the torn fabric was a mass of mangled flesh and blood. Even if she diverted her remaining mana to recovery, her own functions were too damaged for it to work.
"Fu… fufufufu…"
Even so, she—Solitaire—was laughing.
"To think… you had such a hidden trump card… And here I was, using my ace first… how foolish of me… fufu…"
Solitaire's lump of flesh trembled.
"Even if I regenerate like this… it'll only be superficial… How many decades will it take before my power truly returns, I wonder…?"
That was how monstrous the girl's final attack had been.
She had never imagined the day would come when even her practiced smile would be stripped away.
Her rational thoughts had been blown away, and even now, merely recalling it made her shudder.
"Honestly… I really thought I was going to die… No, even now, I feel like I might… For a moment, I even doubted Schlacht's prophecy… Even though I was supposed to die in the future, in battle with Frieren… fufufu…"
Until just moments ago, Solitaire had been convinced she would die here.
Yet she was still alive.
The arrow the girl fired had not struck her directly.
It had simply pierced through the barrier into which Solitaire had poured all her mana, and she had only suffered the aftershock.
Even so, the damage was this severe.
Had it hit her head-on, her life would have ended long ago.
…As she was thinking this—
Suddenly, Solitaire's ears caught the clattering sound of something falling from the sky.
"What… is that?"
Curious, Solitaire dragged herself toward whatever had fallen.
Behind her, an enormous amount of blood was smeared across the ground.
Ignoring the pain, she picked it up, driven by curiosity.
"This is… the hilt of that sword…"
The decoration resembled that of the sword once wielded by the hero Himmel, whom she had fought long ago.
The blade itself had shattered, leaving no trace of the imposing form it had when fired like an arrow.
That fact alone made Solitaire tremble even more.
"Fufufu… you're joking… right…?"
She could barely manage a smile, but in truth, this was no laughing matter.
"You mean you used it as a disposable weapon… that kind of sword…? Fufu… you really are insane…"
At this point, it was almost funny.
…But Solitaire's laughter was short-lived. The shattered hilt dissolved into black mana and dispersed like mist, just like the corpse of a demon.
"…You won't even let me analyze it… Truly, you leave nothing to chance…"
She had thought herself cautious, yet even the slightest gap in that caution—the tiniest looseness—had been exploited by that girl.
Who could have predicted she had laid the groundwork for a counterattack at that very moment?
Choosing to face her with a "sword" in the first place had been a mistake.
She could only take her hat off to that thoroughness.
She wasn't called an Executor for nothing.
Even weakened, her powers of observation were still sharp.
Thanks to that, Solitaire had received a thoroughly unfair counterblow, leaving her in this state. For a while, she would have to avoid even meeting fellow demons in person.
"Fufufu… but that girl's reaction was fascinating…"
There were many fascinating things about her.
Her way of being. Her strange magic.
Magic that completely ignored the law of equivalent exchange of mana, producing one familiar sword after another—it endlessly intrigued Solitaire.
…And for some of the magic swords, the original drawbacks were clearly overridden.
Solitaire suspected that the secret of that bizarre magic lay precisely in how those drawbacks were bypassed—but for now, that didn't matter.
In the research theme she was currently pursuing, that girl was extremely interesting.
"'Family'… You froze for just a moment at that word… If that is the source of your way of being… fufu, how fascinating…"
That was why Solitaire laughed.
No matter how much pain gnawed at her, even if that pain lasted for decades, she laughed—because it was fun, because it was interesting.
"Most likely… it wasn't a collapse like Mahat's. If whatever once existed hadn't been there, would your family's coexistence… have continued all the way to the end…? Or perhaps… No, there's no point in debating what no longer exists…"
That was right.
In the end, Solitaire didn't know what had happened to the girl, how that "coexistence" had collapsed, or what had defined the girl's present way of being—she hadn't seen it with her own eyes.
Then she would simply wait again.
Until the "girl" found another human suitable for coexistence.
Better still, one who could be called "family."
If it had happened once, and if it wasn't a collapse like Mahat's, then at least there was more possibility than with Mahat.
When it collapsed once more… what would the girl do then?
"Fufufu… I'm looking forward to it…"
The time of completion was drawing closer, moment by moment.