Meanwhile, in Gaderia.
"Lord Lugner, trouble! A marquis of the Empire has come to attack Gaderia!"
A Human guard burst into Lugner's office in a rush.
"Mm, understood. You may go."
No warning, a sudden ambush — and yet it came as no surprise either. These were turbulent times as it was.
"A marquis, is it." Lugner's pen stopped mid-stroke.
"The Northern Human Empire. A battle long overdue."
Linie leapt up from the couch. Black Mana stretched, spun, and shifted, and a double-bladed battle-axe appeared in her hands.
"Those nobles must have finally lost their patience. Linie, go tell Lord Qual — it's war."
Lugner's voice was flat, as though the matter barely registered with him.
Watching Linie storm off in a whirlwind, his gaze fell on the book she'd left behind — How to Make Delicious Thick Soup. Lugner, who hadn't so much as blinked at news of war, felt the corner of his mouth twitch.
"...Maybe I should just burn this recipe book."
In Northern. "My apologies, Lady Aura. I couldn't hold them back."
Draht knelt on one knee, the very picture of a loyal retainer, shouldering the blame himself.
"Get up. It's not your fault…"
Aura clicked her tongue under her breath, muttering, "So what, they've got a dragon rider and can fly? Big deal."
"Lady Aura, what should we do next?" Schlacht asked, comparatively composed, standing guard at her side like a knight.
But before Aura could answer,
footsteps came pounding from the village entrance — the clash of armor, the flare of torches, the whinny of horses — followed by the ring of blade after blade being drawn, as a dark mass of knights swarmed into the village's ruins.
"That's… Aura the Guillotine of the Seven Sages of Destruction! So it's true — you're the Demon behind Gaderia, wreaking havoc everywhere! This village falls under the jurisdiction of Graf Granat's Domain! Knights! Ready yourselves! Cut down the Demon!"
Talk about running into an old enemy on a narrow road.
The one who'd arrived was none other than Graf Granat, invested by the Empire, together with the elite knight order he himself had trained.
"Seems they've decided we're the ones who wiped out this village. Unbelievable."
Schlacht, who hadn't even had a moment's rest, drew his sword once more.
"No need to worry — we still have Lady Aura with us!"
Draht looked eager for a fight.
Facing a Human knight order at least several hundred strong, its edges lost in the darkness of night, the two Demon Generals felt not the slightest fear — because standing behind them was a centuries-old Great Demon, one of the Seven Sages of Destruction: Aura!
"You two — why aren't you running yet?"
Aura's flat, emotionless voice came from behind them.
Due to the restrictions of the Magic of Obedience, Aura couldn't casually use it on Humans unless her life was in genuine danger. On top of that, there was also a rule against freely killing Humans.
With Solitär, being Demon Race, none of that had mattered — but faced with this huge host of Human knights, Aura couldn't think of a way around it.
Charge in and let them take a few swings at her? Wait until the very last, hair's-breadth instant to unleash the Magic of Obedience?
If she happened to run into a knight with unusually strong willpower — one who managed even a couple seconds of resistance — it would be her own head rolling on the ground.
Before Draht and Schlacht could even react, Lady Aura had already snatched up her Scales of Obedience and fled.
"After them! They're getting away!"
The two Demon Generals, a beat slow to turn and follow Aura in her flight, made a startling discovery.
They couldn't catch up with the fleeing Lady Aura!
How could any Demon run that fast?!
The fortress city of Weise.
The battlefield glittered, awash in gold.
The soldiers remained frozen in their original charging postures, standing like relief carvings arranged across the field.
The tall, uniformed Demon let out a breath, gazing past the edge of the golden circle at the Human knights trembling just beyond it.
"One of the Seven Sages of Destruction… Macht of the Golden Land…"
The earl leading the allied army against the territory near Weise wore a face full of dread.
The lone soldier who had escaped from within Macht's Golden Transmutation field, after reporting everything he'd witnessed, immediately turned into a kneeling golden statue that would never rise again!
"I hope… nothing's gone wrong over there." Atop the sturdy high walls, Glück gazed out at the distant battle. Standing beside him were his grandson Denn and his daughter Lektire.
"Macht really is a monster. Terrifying."
Denn sounded somewhat worked up. Glück shook his head, pointing at the bulk of the allied army still massed beyond the golden circle, and said quietly, "Sometimes there's something even more terrifying than a monster — and that's… the human heart."
If Weise didn't have Macht, he himself might already be locked away in some Imperial dungeon by now.
"Macht is like a lion. That army out there is like a pack of wild dogs. And we're the fat meat in their eyes."
Glück offered Denn the simple comparison.
Lektire, silver threaded through her golden hair, stayed silent the whole time — her thoughts were still with her husband Denken, off attending to business in the Central Lands.
Denn seemed to reach a decision, and shouted loudly toward the battlefield.
"Macht! I hate your guts! But right now I've got no choice but to count on you! Don't you dare lose!"
The words just barely reached Macht's ears.
The Demon tilted his head slightly, glancing back at the thing he was protecting, and said in the same flat, unchanging tone he'd kept throughout: "Fine."
Before him, a thousand-strong army advanced with hesitant steps.
In the Southern Lands, a group of people made their way toward a battlefield running red with blood.
They wore black skintight suits, faces covered, military coats draped over their shoulders.
Their strange, almost comical appearance couldn't mask the intense killing intent and iron will radiating off them — every one of them a shadow that had crawled up out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
Minus, who had been watching the battle unfold with an air of utter boredom, showed a change in her expression for the first time.
She'd spotted him — a man carrying a longsword, leading a band of warriors toward her.
"Will you be the Human who kills me?"
A faint smile crossed the elf's otherwise expressionless face.
Humans really are fascinating.
"Chaos… war… I really do love them~"
In an underground wine cellar somewhere, a man dressed like a noble sipped fine wine.
He gave his cuff a shake, revealing an expensive golden mechanical watch, its hands ticking steadily. "About time…"
He walked out of the cellar and strolled down a somewhat damp corridor. Splashes of red stained the windows, and irregular shafts of sunlight fell across the corpses lying still on the floor.
The red wine in his glass looked just like blood; he drained it in one smiling gulp.
The doors to the parlor swung open. Amid the opulent, lavish décor, an identical-looking noble sat bound to a chair.
"Mmph… mmph… mmmmph!"
He struggled desperately, gnawing frantically at the rope wound around his mouth.
The wine glass reflected his eyes, bound shut with a black cloth.
"Such a shame. Our little collaboration has come to an end. Farewell — and… thanks for the hospitality."
The "noble" raised his wine glass, and through the glass, his identical face began to shift and change.
Grausam extended his index finger and thumb, forming the shape of a pistol. "Bang."
An invisible slash cut through the bound noble's throat. His struggling and muffled groans stopped instantly.
"This magic really is convenient."
The corner of Grausam's mouth curled up.
____
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