Chapter 61

That man was selfish.

As long as things went well for him, that was all that mattered.

That’s why he never hesitated. He believed—without the slightest doubt—that his way was the right one.

“Wha—why the hell is Mello here?”

“Mino, you’re still such an idiot! You’re always overthinking everything, but if you just relied on me, everything would work out!”

“…Haaaah?”

He was the strongest—because he believed he was the strongest.

And that wasn’t a lie. He wasn’t trying to deceive anyone.

“If I just kill these guys, Mino won’t have to die, right? Leave it to me.”

The self-proclaimed strongest said that as he confidently drew his prized black sword and faced the two demons head-on.

──He had talent like no other. That’s precisely why he never put in the effort.

He didn’t need to. Whenever he got serious, most people would tremble in fear and run away.

He had excellent support too. Even when he acted purely on his own whims, there was a girl who would always manage to keep things from ending in disaster.

He had gone through life without ever facing real hardship.

And as a result—he was utterly crushed by those who were truly strong: a Sword Saint, a wind swordsman, and others like them.

So now, he’d put in the effort.

Mello couldn't stand not being number one. He couldn’t bear the thought of not being the strongest.

The arrogant black sword user challenged the swordsman who’d defeated him every single day, and slowly stole his technique.

He knew exactly how immense his own talent was. That’s why he declared it with pride—the title of strongest.

“If you’re thinking of laying a hand on Mino, then you’ll have to go through me.”

Today’s Mello was far stronger than yesterday’s Mello.

His true gift was the speed and intuition with which he could grasp and master techniques.

He had learned magic just by watching, and developed combat techniques that let him defeat nearly every swordsman in the national army—without ever studying under a master.

“I am the strongest—me.”

──And that same Mello had just spent a full week receiving hands-on training from Fratche, the finest swordsman in the entire nation.

“You idiot, Mello! If you try to fight the Demon King’s army head-on, even someone like Rex could be killed—!”

Mino didn’t know.

She assumed Mello had just thrown another tantrum like always and picked a fight with Fratche.

So she underestimated how strong Melo had actually become.

“…This is gonna be fun!”

There was a sharp whoosh.

The bat leapt into the air, fangs flashing. The Demon King clenched his fist and stepped forward with precision.

“If you’re so confident, then try dodging this.”

In the very next moment, the Demon King’s fist shattered the spot where Melo had been standing—and without a pause, the bat lunged in.

The Demon King, in his own way, found this loudmouthed human oddly likable. The whole reason he picked a fight with the humans in the first place was because he wanted to brawl. In short, he liked scrappy fighters.

That’s exactly why he threw a serious punch at Melo from the start. The most devastating blow in the world, aimed directly at him.

“…”

Meanwhile, Mello let his black sword dangle loosely at his side, placing himself between the attack and Mino.

Facing the oncoming deathblow, he stood with his eyes faintly open.

──Mello and the Demon King passed each other at the speed of sound.

“I see. So the so-called strongest swordsman that woman mentioned… she was talking about you.”

In that instant, the Demon King recognized Melo’s strength.

All Mello did to avoid the blow was take a half-step to the side. That alone caused the Demon King’s fist to veer away and slam uselessly into the floor.

The moment his punch missed, the bat came charging in—

“Huh. I’d heard the rumors, but demons really do have blue blood.”

Before anyone realized it, Melo had already swung his black sword, slicing the bat cleanly in two from the core.

“Filthy.”

With just one swing, Mello had taken down a demon far larger than himself.

His eyes shimmered faintly with blue, and his movements—like he was cloaked in wind—were light, refined, and razor sharp.

---

A monster of talent.

Had he undergone proper training, he might have even surpassed Rex—a true genius.

“Explode, Emberchant Song. Burn him to ash.”

And so, the clash between him and the Demon King... was far from a pitiful one-sided beatdown.

The Demon King saw it as a battle worthy of his full strength. Mello proved just how powerful he really was.

“...Huh? Wha...?”

Watching Mello go toe-to-toe with the Demon King left Mino completely speechless, her jaw slack with disbelief.

Mello was strong, no doubt about that. But against true elite warriors like Rex or Fratche, he should have been a tier below.

This Demon King, who defeated Rex, and whose power dwarfed even that demon general, should have been someone Mello had zero chance against.

And yet—there he was, trading blows, unscathed, his sword dancing through the air.

“...Hmph! Hmmm... I see. These movements... like that woman’s.”

“Tch. You're tough, I’ll give you that, Demon King. But that’s all. You’ve got no technique, no finesse.”

They clashed several times, blades flashing, each exchange careful and measured. Still testing one another, eyes locked in silent confrontation. Yet their skills were evenly matched.

What shocked Mino most was Mello’s movement. To her eyes, his swordplay had always looked like an amateur fast-forwarded to absurd speed—unnatural and crude.

But now—

“If the Sword Demon King were still alive, he’d have begged to fight you. Swordsmanship’s a hell of an art.”

“There’s nothing impressive about this. Your technique’s just so childish it makes mine look good.”

He moved like the true swordsmen Mino knew well—like Laurel, like Rex. Natural. As if the sword were just another limb.

A human, physically weaker than demons, was dodging and parrying the Demon King’s blows through sheer technique alone.

“I don’t need technique! A demon’s weapon is his own body!”

“Ha! Then keep thinking that, you brainless brute!”

Mello roared. The Demon King’s step thundered through the ground.

The black swordsman closed the distance with a sharp leap, gliding in low toward the Demon King.

He brushed off a punch that missed but still roared like an explosion, then launched a searing flame spell straight for the demon’s face.

The spell landed clean—but the Demon King didn’t flinch. He didn’t even show signs of being singed. In truth, Mello’s rudimentary magic wouldn’t leave so much as a burn mark on him.

But Mello didn’t stop. Magic might be useless—but he still had his black sword.

He pushed his speed to the limit. Their weapons clashed in a flurry of blinding motion. The Demon King went for the kill, caring little for defense. Mello dropped magic entirely and fought back with the sword alone.

“What... what’s even happening right now?”

The strategist—Mino—could only stare in shock at the battle between monsters.

Nothing was going according to plan. Her gaze, filled with confusion, only seemed to fuel Mello’s determination further.

“Why is Mello suddenly...?”

“I heard about the coup and knew things were bad! That’s why I came, Mino!”

Upon hearing of Penny’s uprising, he had abandoned his post and raced for the throne, heedless of anything else. Ignoring Mino’s orders, he charged in just before the barrier closed off the area.

“I told you not to do anything reckless! I explicitly said not to leave the wall!”

“Shut up! I decide what I do!”

It was always like this. No matter how carefully Mino crafted her plans, Mello would storm in on his own terms and throw everything into chaos.

There was no longer any need for Mello to fight. The Demon King was already sealed in. He’d die even without a battle.

In fact, this was a meaningless death for Mello. Even if he somehow won, Mino still had no way to escape this barrier. She’d be dead within months—and Mello would die alone, abandoned and in despair.

“So incredibly stupid...”

“And you’re calling me stupid, Mino?! You’re the real idiot here!”

He didn’t care what she thought. He acted however he pleased. And it always, always made things worse.

“Did you hear what the Demon King and I said? I don’t have much time left. There’s no point in saving me now.”

“Who said there had to be a point? I’ll decide that!”

“Still doing whatever you want, even at the end...”

Even while locked in deadly combat with the Demon King, Mello shouted at Mino at the top of his lungs.

“You’re mine, Mino! You hear me?! So who the hell gave you permission to go off and die on your own, you idiot woman?!”

“I didn’t want to be called an idiot... not by you. Anyone but you.”

“Shut up, you colossal moron!!”

His voice came out in an angry yell—almost a curse. Yet Mino was the one holding back her fury.

She owed Mello. She’d done her best to shape the world into a place where he could live in peace.

And now, in the end, he’d gone and sabotaged her final plan. A high-ranking general had died in vain. That kind of ending was a disgrace—a stain on her legacy as a strategist.

She had enough complaints to fill volumes. She had held back so many until now. But fine. If that’s how it was going to be, she’d let him hear every last one.

Coming to a place like this, picking a pointless fight with the Demon King—Mino hurled her resentment at such an impossible "fool."

"...Hey, Mello—"

With eyes like ice, Mino finally spoke.

"Even if I only have a few months left!! I still want to be with you!!"

Upon hearing those words from Mello, she froze once again.

"...Huh?"

"I had a bad feeling about it, you know. You’ve been looking worse lately, distancing yourself from everyone."

"..."

"I figured you were up to something again, so I kept an eye on you. But I never imagined you’d be planning something this damn stupid!!"

Clang! Mello’s black sword clashed against the Demon King’s arm. It didn’t even leave a scratch, and he was batted away, the distance between them growing wide again.

"You followed me, traveled with me—do you have any idea how grateful I’ve been for that!? Do you even understand why I never once tried to seriously confess to you!?"

"Eh. Ah... no, I..."

"Because I’m head over heels for you! I’ve always loved you!! And still... still, what the hell is this, you goddamn idiot!!"

The Demon King’s fist cleaved the air. The shockwave blasted Mello back, slamming him into the wall.

But Mello took the hit in a breakfall, absorbing the impact, and was already back on his feet, sword in hand, ready to counterattack.

"Don’t mess with me, Mino! You think I can just accept this!? What the hell am I supposed to do in a world without you!?"

"Ah..."

"You’re going to live. Even if it’s only for a few more months, you’re mine—mine alone until your very last breath."

Blazing flames scorched the throne. In the sudden explosion, the Demon King's vision was clouded, and for a brief moment, he lost sight of Mello.

"So let’s go home, Mino."

Mello pictured it clearly in his mind—the ideal sword strike.

The sword form he memorized exactly as taught by Fratche, the same he witnessed when facing off against Rex.

"Ugh...!"

Catching the Demon King off guard, Mello swung his blade with pure instinct into the back of his head.

And for the first time—against the Demon King’s absurdly tough armored body—

"...Blood. That’s... my blood?"

"Finally cut you, huh. Damn, you’re ridiculously tough."

A clean sword wound was visible. Golden hair soaked in blue fluid clung to his skin.

"────!!"

"What’s that face for? You scared, you weakling?"

At that moment, Mello ascended—becoming someone capable of killing even the Demon King on his own.

Mello, the man who embodied the supreme talent of battle itself. His talent, without a doubt... was the strongest humanity had ever seen.

---

They could win. They would win.

Mello could even defeat the Demon King.

"…Haha."

I see now. The fool was me.

If Mello could beat the Demon King on his own… then there was no need to sacrifice the king. No need for elaborate traps. No need to attack the painstakingly rebuilt castle town. Humanity could have triumphed over the Demon King’s army without all that.

Mino had underestimated her comrade’s strength—and only ended up causing unnecessary casualties.

"…If victory were certain, that is."

But that kind of hindsight doesn’t matter.

Even if Mino had fully grasped Melo’s strength, she still wouldn’t have chosen a different path.

Individual power isn’t something you can measure. It fluctuates wildly with one’s condition or mental state on any given day.

That’s why—no matter how many times she relived this war, even a hundred times—Mino would make the same choices a hundred times over.

Because her reason was this:

"Reducing casualties, even by one. A tactician’s job isn’t to seek the best outcome—it’s to aim for the best expected outcome."

There was a high chance the Demon King would fall into their trap. Mino had prepared multiple areas besides the throne room, each rigged with similar enchantments.

If the Demon King could be dealt with without a direct fight—if she could avoid the gamble of a duel—then she would gladly become a sacrificial piece, again and again.

That was the decision of someone responsible for leading the people.

"─────And besides…"

There was one more hidden reason. One truth she never voiced.

It was—

"…I don’t want to see you get hurt, Mello."

Right now, as Mino watched the broken fragments of Mello’s armor scattered from the last attack, silent tears began to fall.

"I don’t want to see the person I love suffer… Mello."

Beneath the surface, out of sight, she had always been extremely overprotective of him.

She told herself it was the politically correct decision. That was how she justified desperately keeping Mello away from the most dangerous battles.

She prioritized easier enemies for him, always shielding his pride.

"I'm really… such a half-measure, aren't I?"

It wasn’t the wrong decision, not when the goal was protecting the nation. Within the limits of what was still a “correct” answer, it was a selfish choice—one only a strategist like her had the freedom to make.

Melo had been protected all along.

"Maybe not protecting you… would’ve been better for you in the long run."

And that—that was Mino’s greatest flaw. The fatal flaw of the woman hailed by Laurel as the "Supreme Strategist," who’d grown up without ever being truly accepted by those around her.

The essence of her strategies, the root of her worldview—

"If only I’d had more faith in you."

─────Other people aren’t worth trusting.

Until now, she hadn’t truly trusted anyone—not even herself.

She was always convinced someone would make a critical mistake. Always planning for the worst. Just like how she’d prepared a contingency plan in case Swordmaster Rex lost, she had always chosen the safest route to avoid catastrophe.

Mino’s distrust of others extended even to Mello—the man she had feelings for, and his strength.

No… she refused to change. Because the one person who’d validated her cold but reliable methods—was Mello himself.

"…Win this."

But all of that ends here.

No matter how this battle ends, the broader situation won’t change. Someone will be trapped in this space until death—whether that someone is Melo or the Demon King.

"Do your best, Mello."

So Mino cast aside all extraneous thoughts. She spoke only from the heart.

"If I’m going to die anyway─────"

Let these words reach him.

"─────Then I want to be with you."

And in response to those words… the black swordsman gave a silent nod.

---

"─────Ah, I see now. I think I’m starting to get the trick."

But then—

"So I was being guided without even realizing it. I get it, I get it. So that’s how it is."

Reality was cruel.

"Amazing. Every single move you made was a meaningful feint, a lure, a setup. And yet, you never let your true intent show."

"……"

"This is swordsmanship, huh? No wonder the Demon Sword King was so obsessed with you. That was one hell of a technique."

─────It was true. Mello had grown.

In just one week of nonstop sparring under Flatche’s watchful eye, his skills had improved dramatically.

However—swordsmanship, as an art, is not something one can master in a mere week, no matter how talented.

All Mello had done was cleverly mimic Flatche’s movements. But looked at another way, that meant his style was nothing more than a copy—kazanagi techniques, not techniques made for Mello himself.

And that unnaturalness became his downfall.

"Which means… by reading your setups, I can read your intentions too."

The embodiment of battle—the Demon King—had intuitively grasped Mello’s movements. And the moment he understood, he changed the angle of his strike and tore through Mello’s intestines as the boy tried to evade.

And then─────

"Alright, that’s a win. Man, that was a good fight."

Just like that, he grabbed Mello’s limp, unconscious body, flung it into the air, and struck it with full force.

With the sound of space itself groaning, the fragile body of Mello crashed into the barrier wall, creating a massive fissure as if evaporating on impact.

"─────Mello?"

Mello had fought valiantly. Against an overwhelmingly powerful enemy, one he should never have had a chance against, he never took a step back.

Even if the outcome wasn’t what he’d hoped for, his desperate struggle deserved nothing but praise.

"A-ah… Mello… Mello?"

And so, Mino had to praise him. She had to honor what he’d done.

And yet—

"Aah… Aaaaah…"

Faced with the obliterated remains of the one she loved—taken by sheer, unthinkable force—the terminally ill strategist broke down in loud sobs.

She had no way to stop her tears.

"…Well then. Guess I’ll crush you next."

Having finished his fight, the Demon King slowly turned to face Mino.

But Mino didn’t care. None of that mattered anymore. All she felt was grief.

That Melo, doing as he pleased until the very end, had died reaping the consequences of his own recklessness—that was what broke her.

Because, deep down, what Mino truly wanted—

"I just… wanted to see you smile…"

A hopelessly foolish man. A selfish, arrogant brat.

Someone she couldn’t even explain why she’d fallen for.

"I just wanted you to be happy─────"

She had only wished that he could live a happy life—for her share too, since she was the one who would die first.

---

"─────Hey, where the hell are you looking, big guy?"

"Hah?"

With a twitch, she turned toward the direction of that feeble voice.

It came from the floor, a short distance away from the crack in the barrier where the Demon King had struck. There, Mello stood up, using his black sword as a crutch—his body battered and broken.

He wasn’t dead. Mello, though on the brink, was still alive.

"O-ohhh, not bad! So you deflected that final blow after all."

"Shut up... Don’t lay a hand on that girl. Your fight’s with me first."

But that was all. Mello was barely holding himself up—moving even a single hand took everything he had.

"Stop, don’t talk! You’ll choke from the pressure in your throat!! I’ll heal your wounds, just hang on!"

"Oh? So you can use healing magic?"

"What of it? Demon King, if you kill me and Mello now, you’re just going to be bored afterward, right? Give me time to treat—"

"You really think I will?"

The Demon King didn’t even glance her way. He simply started walking straight toward Mino.

"You sure about this? Killing me and Mello so easily—are you really okay with that?"

"I don’t care. I’ll need time to figure out a way to escape anyway. If anything, I’d rather deal with you both now and get it over with."

"I already told you—there is no way out of here."

"Like hell I’d trust a word you say."

Fair enough, Mino muttered to herself. But the truth was—she really didn’t know how to escape this place.

Humans are weak. Mino didn’t even fully trust herself.

If she learned the escape method, she might risk being brainwashed… or suddenly value her life too much… or break under torture. That’s why she chose not to know.

And if even Mino—the one here with the most knowledge of magic—couldn’t escape, then the Demon King had no chance of figuring it out, not in a lifetime.

She’d heard this barrier even incorporated Claris’ barrier theories. Even if someone explained every detail, Mino wasn’t confident she could understand it all.

─────That’s why. In the end, for the Demon King, Mino, and Mello—there were no options left except death.

"...Huh?"

The sound of Mello’s ragged cries. The approaching shadow of the Demon King.

This was the end. Mino would die here, trapped in this small space with the Demon King. That’s how it was supposed to go.

"...Wait, what!?"

What ruined it all was Mino being too perceptive. Too educated in not only healing magic but also the basics of support magic.

And she noticed something she shouldn’t have: the crack in the barrier created by the Demon King… wasn’t closing.

(...No. No way. That can’t be happening.)

It shouldn’t have been possible. This space was sealed off, isolated from the world in a completely different phase. A crack in the barrier shouldn’t even be possible.

But right there, a massive rupture split the wall behind the throne—and beyond it, Mino could faintly sense the hues and presence of the “outside world.”

(It’s impossible by theory, and yet────)

And so, Mino reached her conclusion:

‘This barrier can be broken—by the Demon King.’

A chill ran down her spine as cold sweat trickled along her back. The entire premise of the death trap she had entrusted her life to… had collapsed.

This was supposed to be an unbreakable wall. But the monster before her had just shattered that notion with raw strength.

No—he had already broken through it. Laurel, who fled the fortress immediately, hadn’t seen it happen—and thus never told Mino.

This barrier was of the same kind as the “Love Barrier Super Shield” Claris had used in their fight. And the Demon King had already destroyed that one with a single punch.

From the beginning, for someone like him, a barrier like this might as well not exist. The Demon King was simply too abnormal.

Sure, this one was slightly sturdier—being a complete isolation barrier that cut off space itself from the world. But even so, if the core magic circle sustaining it was destroyed…

If the Demon King thrashed around carelessly and happened to smash that circle─────he’d be free again, and Mino and Mello’s deaths would’ve been for nothing.

(What do I do...?)

What now? If the Demon King escaped this barrier, the human forces outside—unprepared for a surprise attack from behind—would suffer massive losses.

This was, after all, the very heart of the royal capital. Just beyond this room lay the inner city of the castle, where ordinary citizens lived within arm’s reach. Nearby stood the palaces of nobles, royalty, and the administrative officers who kept the country running.

If those key figures were wiped out, and the unarmed populace was slaughtered en masse… the nation itself would collapse.

For her, that was an outcome she absolutely could not allow.

Think. Think. Think───── Even in this extreme situation, Mino forced her mind to its limits.

"...Alright. Then how about this."

And finally, the conclusion reached by the female tactician was this:

"I’ll tell you how to escape this barrier. Just let me treat Mello first..."

She chose to willingly reveal the escape method to the Demon King.

The worst-case scenario was letting the Demon King escape after brutally killing both of them. That would leave the nation’s chain of command shattered, its main fighting force crippled, and humanity forced to face the Demon King under the worst possible conditions. That alone had to be avoided.

Right now, Mello was someone with a real chance of defeating the Demon King. And if someone on Rex’s level joined the fight as backup, their odds would be solid.

As long as Mello survived, there was still hope. Fratche had been deployed to the fortress, but Rex was still outside.

"I’ll let you out of here, Demon King."

Now that she knew the Demon King could break out on his own, there was little point in trying to contain him. The smarter choice was to prioritize Mello’s survival and negotiate. That was the conclusion Mino had reached.

"I don’t trust you, Mino. Who would? You liar. Even if I wait till you treat him, you’ll just keep your mouth shut, won’t you?"

"I’m not lying. I’ll really tell you."

"Oh yeah? Then say it first. If you’re telling the truth—I’ll let you heal him."

I have to save him. I have to give Mello every possible chance to kill the Demon King.

Mino didn’t know how to break the barrier. But with her knowledge of magic, she could guess.

(If they amplified the spell with the patterns engraved into the throne and then covered the floor's magic circle with that carpet...)

Recalling the basic structure of barrier magic, she used her innate calculation ability to work backward from the shape of the crack in the barrier, slowly deducing the “origin point” of the spell. She pinpointed where the elite court mages under her command would likely have drawn the core formation.

"There. Four meters in front of the throne—punch straight down into the ground, with everything you’ve got. Demon King, I mean all of your strength."

"...Huh?"

"That spot is the weak point in the barrier."

And the conclusion Mino reached… was undeniably correct.

---

Thud.

A single strike warps the world. The moment his fist hits the throne room floor, the barrier crumples like paper.

"Oh. It’s really working."

"That’s enough. The world’s phase has already been restored. Now, just punch any part of the barrier—with your strength, you should be able to break it."

"Got it."

────An explosion echoes through the throne room.

When Mino informs him, the Demon King rejoices—shattering the supposedly indestructible spatial barrier with a single clenched fist.

And just like that, her once-in-a-lifetime stratagem crumbles to nothing.

"Well then, why don’t you go ahead and ambush us from behind as planned? I’ll take my time healing him here."

"...Right."

But Mello was saved. That alone means he’ll live.

It’s a shame the damage will be severe, but at least they’ve managed to preserve the forces capable of defeating the Demon King—

────No, wait.

What did Mino just do?

"...Hmm, what should I do?"

The Demon King steps in front of Mino as she tries to rush to Mello’s side, feigning hesitation. Of course—there’s no reason for the Demon King to keep any promise to Mino.

What in the world has she just done?

"...Nah, I’ll just kill you all here."

"Ah—"

That was the most natural conclusion.

Exhaustion, delirium, too little time to react to an unforeseen situation—truly, the worst possible conditions for Mino.

But this was unacceptable. This was the one thing she should never have done.

(Why did I tell the Demon King how to escape?)

It was utterly meaningless. All it did was hasten his escape.

Right now, the remnants of the Demon King’s army swarm outside the castle. If the Demon King ambushes them from behind in this state, the kingdom’s forces will be caught in a pincer and thrown into chaos.

That’s why buying even a little more time—until the Demon King appears—was crucial. Mello and Mino were supposed to stall for time at the cost of their lives, creating enough delay to prevent the pincer attack.

And yet—what in the world has Mino done?

"DON’T YOU DARE LAY A HAND ON MINO!!"

The half-dead swordsman crawls toward her, but the Demon King pays him no mind, raising his fist toward Mino.

"Healers die first. That’s how it goes, right?"

"Stop it, STOP!!"

In the end, the Demon King—who never had any intention of keeping his word—kills her.

"Ah, I messed up────"

Mino’s eyes widen as she curses her own pathetic, disgraceful choice.

"...Fool. Imbecile. Weakling. Worthless. Pathetic!!"

She knows why. She knows exactly why she made such a stupid decision.

"I—at the very last moment, I—!!"

Mino wasn’t calm. Her emotions had boiled her brain. The driving force behind her actions—her infatuation—had sent her spiraling out of control.

Her vision had narrowed. She had scrambled for any excuse to prioritize saving the one she loved.

In the final moments of her life, she had abandoned her role as a strategist and reverted to nothing more than a foolish girl.

"Ah, ahh────"

Her conviction shattered. The pillar she had built her life upon—gone.

This was the result of yielding to emotion. Of letting her feelings for a man drive her to make a weak, childish choice—only to end up a grotesque lump of flesh before the one she loved.

In the end, she protected neither her people nor her beloved. She would go down in history as the worst strategist to ever live.

"Ah, ahh, aahh..."

She failed. Her entire life was a failure.

No—maybe, as someone once said, it would’ve been better if she had never been born at all.

"I can’t take it anymore. Someone..."

The Demon King raises his fist and roars.

He kicks off the ground, charging toward the disheveled, emaciated woman who can no longer even stand.

"Someone... save me."

Her life was already forfeit. She shouldn’t have had any regrets left.

Yet she never imagined—that by her own hand, she would lose everything she had ever built.

"Someone... please save me────"

This was not a cry for her life to be spared.

It was the scream of a soul begging for salvation—the scream of a girl who had failed to become Mino, the strategist who pursued the nation's interests.

It was a plea for someone to protect the precious things she was about to lose through her own mistakes.

"...Ah."

Yet she knew.

That no help would come. That this was simply the consequence of every choice she had ever made, now crashing down upon her.

.

.

────"I'll save you."

What followed was a bizarre sight.

The monstrous golden fiend, mid-swing of his fist—

────just as it was about to strike Mino, suddenly launched himself straight upward, spinning wildly off-balance before crashing headfirst into the wall behind the throne and embedding himself in it.

"—!?"

The Demon King, abruptly slammed into the wall, blinked in shock as his eyes darted toward the intruder.

Someone had slipped between him and Mino without him noticing.

A slender frame, standing at least a head shorter than the weeping strategist slumped beside her.

A chipped and battered shortsword, wearing only the bare minimum of armor.

A girl with no notable muscle to speak of, glaring at the Demon King through piercing blue cat-like eyes.

She was one of the few in this kingdom—a hidden trump card capable of felling even the Demon King.

"Why... are you—?"

"I told you, Mino."

Clack. With a deliberate step, the swordswoman nudged Mino with her foot, urging her to heal Mello. Standing between the Demon King—still embedded in the wall—and the broken strategist, she leveled her blade at the bewildered fiend and spoke.

The wind swirling around her, the swordswoman turned her head slightly toward the sniveling girl behind her and said:

"My sword exists for the sake of those who cry before me."

"Now then," she smirked, flicking her blade toward the Demon King. "Shall we finish our last match, you pathetic demon?"

Flatche, the Divine Sword. The most skilled fencer in the kingdom.

One of humanity's strongest—a warrior capable of slaying even the Demon King.