Chapter 68: Trishel and Salem

"Keep your eyes forward!"

Ugh… I don’t want to push myself when I feel this sick.

I just can’t keep up with how much information they’re processing!

But still, if we don’t move, we’ll die.

A horde of monsters blocks our path. Behind us, survivors of history—who clearly have no intention of letting us escape—are chasing relentlessly.

Stopping isn’t an option. That would be like asking to be killed.

Even my thoughts reveal how much of a threat Salem is. That’s why this guy is desperately retracing our path.

"Salem! If we die, the system that throws the town into chaos will start working!"

"Who cares about that now?! The elders, Paladam—they’ve never lost the princess before their eyes, so they’re fine with this situation. If we break everything once, they won’t be able to look away. The time for escapism is over!"

…Nope, there’s no reasoning with her.

I don’t know much about Salem. All I’ve heard is that she’s a survivor of the previous war. Someone who led the charge in that conflict, and now clings tightly to the past.

"We can’t make it to the exit. Let’s head back to the area boss’s chamber."

"…Sorry, my magic might run out by then."

"It’ll hold long enough. Once we’re in a wide space, we can fight based on presence alone."

"Sorry."

"Don’t worry. It wasn’t factored in anyway."

A simple exchange.

Meanwhile, he’s cutting down monsters with only his right arm. How is this normal? Our minds are linked, so he should feel my thoughts too…

Monster…

We run as hard as we can.

Salem isn’t especially fast, but the quality of her murderous intent is different now.

It screams at the core of my instincts: this is dangerous.

"Almost there?"

"You remembered the path?"

"I memorized the number of steps and turns. That gives a rough distance."

"Got it…"

But why bother sending monsters that won’t even slow us down?

It’s like she’s leading us somewhere monsters can’t even reach.

"Going up!"

Before I can think it through, we’ve reached the staircase to the sixth floor.

Can we really go up? But Salem is nearly here. There’s no time to hesitate.

"What are you doing? Move!"

"…Got it."

No, we don’t have a choice.

If we stay, we’ll just be worn down by endless monsters. So climbing is the only option.

We follow Riven up the stairs. How can he manage this without misstepping, given his skewed vision?

At the top, we reach the area boss’s grand hall. Reaching its center, we immediately turn back to face the staircase.

"Disconnect your senses!"

"Now?"

"It’s tough to switch on the fly. Better to ease back gradually so you can fight!"

I follow his instructions and break the link.

Instantly, my body feels lighter. My head feels… well, not light exactly, but relieved.

Riven wavers slightly but regains balance and readies his sword. Looks like he can fight… but still…

"Underestimated me, huh? Or is it arrogance?"

"Salem…"

"Looks like Trishel won’t fight effectively. Good. Your magic being part of the setup is troublesome enough already."

From the darkness, she finally appears.

The first thing that grabs attention is the white hair—a hallmark of her clan. Then, her red eyes, glowing even in shadow as if stained with blood. Her height rivals mine, slightly shorter than Riven.

Clad entirely in white, the outfit looks less like armor and more like ceremonial wedding attire.

In her right hand, a crimson spear radiates a sinister aura. Its age is obvious, and it feels like it has drunk countless lives.

"Salem! Think about—"

"Silence."

Her overwhelming presence cuts off any further words. I can hardly believe this is the same person who once joked around.

"I’ll ask one last time. Where’s the princess? Tell me, and I might spare you."

"…I can’t. Not to you, at least."

"Fine. Then you’ll be dealt with as an outsider tied to the black."

Murderous intent fills the space.

It’s… ominous. Far more twisted than Rosalind. Unlike the oppressive aura of a strong opponent, this is the suffocating pressure of a killer.

Riven reacts to the intent, though his eyes and ears are already useless. He’s completely at a disadvantage.

Salem meets Riven’s sword with the spear’s shaft. The friction screeches sharply—whatever this is made of, it’s beyond normal.

"Let’s see what you’re capable of. I’ll enjoy this."

Perhaps forgetting he can’t hear, or maybe she just doesn’t care. With a flick, the spear rotates and lunges straight at Riven. The strike is supersonic.

I couldn’t even see when it struck. Only the blast of displaced air and the crack of atmosphere give any clue.

—Riven actually reacted.

"Heh, dodged."

Blood drips. Riven deflected it, but only slightly. The attack aimed at the heart now hits the left shoulder.

"Not bad—then dance yourself to death in agony."

From there, it’s completely one-sided.

The spear spins, leaps, strikes with the blade, and smashes with the shaft. A dance of death.

Riven is purely defensive, parrying by intuition and the sound of the air. Anything he can’t block is answered with blood.

Salem could kill instantly but toys with him instead. Her crimson eyes radiate madness.

A smile not of cruelty, but of detached delight, as if observing a scene far away while still inflicting wounds.

…At this rate, I’ll be killed for sure.

"Oops."

The fire arrow I launched, hoping to catch her off guard, is casually deflected as if it were nothing.

"You shouldn’t push yourself. I can see from your face how exhausted you are. I’ll kill you later, so for now, lie down."

"Who said I would! If anything happens to him, I won’t be able to face Charlotte!"

I take a brief moment to recover. My strength returns slightly, and the dizziness subsides. I can fight.

I pull out a steel ring from my sleeve and immediately launch it at Salem.

"…I know your fighting style. You disrupt with tools and annihilate with large-scale magic. Do you know who taught you that way of fighting?"

She had kicked Riven to the side to deal with me. He rolls across the ground, dirt smearing him, apparently too weak to take a proper landing.

But seizing the opening from her kick, the steel ring flies straight at her.

—A hollow sound of metal shattering echoes. Dull fragments glint in the faint light, floating like powdery snow.

The spear slices across, shattering my steel ring.

"I’m not kind enough to play along with your way of fighting."

Before I know it, the red figure that had been distant is now right in front of me—

"Ugh… ha…"

"Lie down."

I have no idea what she did, only that it must have been with the shaft of her spear.

My solar plexus? The pain is unbearable, and the discomfort there is extreme. I drop to my knees. I cannot stand. Nausea, dizziness, barely holding onto consciousness.

No, I can’t faint.

I won’t let her kill him. I refuse to allow it.

If it ends like this, how would I face Charlotte?

"Then, shall we go back to playing?"

Playing. She says it plainly now.

To her, this is all a game.

She could kill at will, but she toys with her victims first because it amuses her.

It’s like a child throwing a tantrum.

Thinking that, I can’t help but smile a little.

"…I told you to lie down, didn’t I?"

"Even if you say that, who taught me not to fall with something so trivial?"

Focus.

It doesn’t matter if I can’t do anything else. Buy time.

It doesn’t need to make sense. As long as there’s a chance, cling to it.

That’s the way I was taught.

"If you keep standing in front of me, you’ll die, you know?"

"Haha. Now you’re worried about my life? You?"

Her expression twists as if she’s disgusted.

Ah, so obvious. She’s always been this straightforward.

Fickle like a child, driven straight toward her goal, unable to escape the cage she’s trapped in.

"If you wanted to die first, you should’ve said so."

"No way. I don’t want to die."

"Then—"

"I’m just saying this isn’t a bad use of my life."

I stare straight into Salem’s eyes.

I cannot look away. I must not.

Eventually, she sighs, seemingly bored.

"Anything you want to leave for Paladam? He’s your guardian, right?"

"…I suppose. I’ll think about it."

Her spear lifts high. In the next instant, death could easily come.

I hesitate just a moment, then decide. If I’m going to tell him anything, it can only be this.

Resolved, I open my mouth—

"That’s enough!"

A new voice cries out.

Familiar. Clear, reaching far as if it were clearing the darkness itself.

Turning my head, I see her—she has already come into view.

"…Charlotte?"

"What are you doing?"

Our princess is there, her expression openly brimming with anger.