Chapter 62

Before I realized it, I was already running.

Emma-chan had called for help, and I left Rex behind, still being treated for his injuries, and headed for the throne. Apparently, Mino had used herself and the king as bait to lure out the enemy's commander. A plan very much in line with her style.

But the unexpected always happens. According to the mage maintaining the barrier outside, the internal shock was so intense it tore through space-time and shattered the spell. Tearing space-time apart with a punch? Who does she think she is, Rex?

Unfortunately, Mino’s plan failed. The barrier was shattered by an attack from within. Well then, it can’t be helped. I’ll take on the Demon King (presumed), I thought, slowly drawing my sword.

“Somebody… help—”

The so-called worst in the national army was crying big tears, begging for help.

“…I don’t understand the situation, let me just take a look—wait, Flatche-san!?”

“Sorry, I’m going ahead, Emma-chan.”

That “worst in the national army” was, at that moment, about to be crushed by the golden demon we had fought before.

From Emma-chan’s perspective, Mino is someone she definitely wants to kill. She says she has no idea what kind of damage could be caused by letting that woman live.

But. Even so, I…

“My sword is for the one crying in front of me.”

I couldn’t ignore someone crying out in despair for help.

---

I sensed Mino behind me start to run. She was probably heading to tend to Mello, who looked pretty badly hurt.

That’s fine. That useless brat with only raw talent had made good progress in swordsmanship thanks to our training. His help might actually be useful now.

I know my own limits. With my lack of offensive power, I’ll never be able to beat a demon. The best I can do is buy time.

But I don’t need to defeat them on my own. I’ll just hold the line until Rex and Mello, our heavy hitters, finish healing.

“—I’m surprised. You’ve come to your senses?”

“Yeah. Now then, you’re going to regret not finishing me off when you had the chance.”

“…I was actually looking forward to training with you, you know. That’s a shame.”

The Demon King looked a little sad as I pointed my sword at him. What kind of reaction is that?

“Well, I guess it can’t be helped. You’re dangerous. I’ll kill you here.”

“You’re all talk for someone who couldn’t lay a finger on me last time, you two-bit demon.”

“Nah, I figured out your swordplay just now. This time, I’ll kill you for sure.”

But that fleeting emotion vanished in an instant. The Demon King closed the distance in a flash, radiating killing intent.

“Die.”

A golden fist, stained with Mello’s red blood, came at me at subsonic speed.

—Reading the point of impact, I aligned my feet with the direction of his movement, keeping my eyes locked and shifting my center of gravity to bait his strike.

—Oh? A faint shift in the Demon King’s hand. Looks like he changed his target after seeing my movement. So he realized he was being lured in.

—Even better. If he changes his strike point mid-attack, his balance will falter. Exactly what I wanted.

“Grahhh!!”

I gently caught his off-balance arm, used the ground as a pivot, and slammed the Demon King into the floor in a sweeping arc from head to heel. He couldn’t even react. The marble floor cracked and he was embedded in the ground.

The attack lost a bit of its power since his punch wasn’t straight, but I’m sure it still did decent damage.

“…I see. So swordsmanship still has hidden depths.”

“What’re you talking about? That idiot you punched earlier only started practicing a week ago. You’ve barely scratched the surface.”

“Is that so? Hahaha. I guess I should’ve listened more carefully to the Demon Sword King’s stories. I never imagined this level of skill.”

The Demon King looked oddly convinced, and even though I had slammed him pretty hard, he pulled his head out of the floor and started laughing like it was nothing.

Seriously, what does it take to hurt this guy?

“…Still, if you’re here, I guess that means your comrades outside the castle are all dead. I thought there was a former human among them—a well-known and powerful swordsman. So he lost too?”

“A well-known and powerful swordsman, huh? Yeah, that guy was crazy strong. And handsome. And smart, too.”

“I didn’t say all that. Smart…?”

Why the hell did he question that part?

“Sorry to disappoint you, Demon King. But your demon buddies outside? They’ve already fled.”

“…What?”

“Even the ones who looked like they still wanted to fight got cleaned up by me and Rex. Then they realized they couldn’t win and ran for it. Guess they got spooked when that ridiculous magic started going off like fireworks.”

Yeah… I don’t really remember much of it, but apparently Mei-chan burned down the whole royal plains by herself. Most of the demons who crawled out from the caves saw the hellish inferno and lost the will to fight.

…Why didn’t I get caught in that? Or maybe I did and just dodged it well?

“So… I’m the only one still fighting?”

“Looks like it.”

That’s right. The battle’s already decided.

The Demon King’s army is finished. All that’s left is to take care of him, and it’s over.

“…I see.”

“Oh? What’s wrong? Thinking of surrendering?”

“No. I won’t.”

The Demon King looked deeply lonely as he exhaled, then raised his fists toward me again.

“You know… I’ve always lived alone. Fought alone. Won alone. Suffered alone.”

“Go on.”

“So why’d a guy like me, calling himself the Demon King, go and gather a bunch of followers to attack this place? It’s because those followers begged me. They said they wanted to defeat the humans.”

"……"

"If those guys are gone, then I have no reason to keep fighting under their orders."

"Hey, then just surrender already. You’ve got no reason to fight anymore."

What he’s saying and what he’s doing don’t match. You started this war because your subordinates asked you to, right? Then you’ve got no reason to keep fighting now.

"I never liked ambushes in the first place."

"Huh?"

"If you're strong!! Then as the mightiest among the demons, the way I fight is to declare myself proudly, face my enemy head-on, crush them utterly! Anyone who stands in my way, I kill them all—and devour them!! That’s how I fight!!"

And then, with a ferocious grin, the Demon King’s entire body bristled with excitement.

"Nothing binds me now. I don’t need to fear death as the Demon King anymore. I hold no more responsibility as the leader of the demon race. Standing before you is merely a demon—Madolf!!!"

"Madolf?"

"That’s right. That’s my name. Etch it into your memory, swordswoman!!"

…The golden aura surrounding his body surged and swelled violently. Terrifying magic power burst from his frame, blanketing the entire kingdom.

An overwhelming heat. A monstrous torrent of killing intent.

"…Eep!"

Behind me, Emma-chan let out a small scream and collapsed, caught by Penny just in time. Looks like she was overcome by Madolf’s magic pressure.

"Ugh…"

Even without turning around, I could tell—nearly all of the royal guards had passed out and lay unconscious on the ground. The only one still standing was likely their captain, Penny.

This was a monster. On a whole other level compared to Clarice or Mei-chan. The sheer magic power was beyond anything else—focused entirely on strengthening his own body and demonstrating raw might.

So this is his true fighting style. Not the restrained approach he’d used before, conserving magic for ambushes or sneak attacks—but his full, unrestricted power as the demon called Madolf.

Up until now, he had relied on stealth and surprise. That’s why he had never been allowed to unleash this—the real reason they called him the Demon King.

With this much ridiculous magic output just bleeding into the surroundings, sneak attacks were obviously impossible. That must be why he sealed this form away all this time.

The demon leaders probably figured they couldn’t beat the humans with strategy alone. Maybe if they’d just listened to Madolf and charged in head-on like this from the start, things would’ve gone worse for us.

"They asked me not to use this technique in the earlier battle. So I held back, used up my strength little by little, and in the end couldn’t find the right moment. I should’ve used it from the start, before underestimating you. Forgive me."

"Huh. Makes sense now. So this is your original style. No wonder I thought you were weak for a demon general."

"…That’s a bit insulting."

This is bad. But also… kind of thrilling. That’s weird—I’m not supposed to be the battle-crazed type.

────An opponent I shouldn’t have any hope of beating. If I were alone, I would’ve been drowning in despair.

But not now. And that’s probably why I’m so damn excited.

"Well, no matter how strong you are, you’re not beating Rex. I’m just here to buy time, Madolf."

"…This Rex—who is he?"

"The strongest swordsman there is. Just wait, you’ll meet him soon enough."

Rex will be here soon. Once he’s healed by Karin, he’ll come charging in with that cocky laugh of his.

At some point, I’d become strong enough to stand side by side with my best friend. That thought alone fills me with joy.

"Let me return the favor—I am Flatche! Wielder of the divine wind blade, known as the Godblade! Come, Madolf!!"

"Then come forth! Face the fists that have slain countless demons—let’s see if you can withstand them, Flatche!!"

And thus, my sword clashed with Madolf at full power.

---

And so, the girl was carefully treating the wounds of the man she cherished.

"...Damn it, how far apart are we, Flatche..."

"That's why I told you not to talk."

A girl swordsman who effortlessly brushed off a strike from the Demon King—the very same opponent Mello couldn’t defeat. The sight of her made Mello, who believed in his own genius without question, burn with frustration.

"Your wounds are almost healed. But Mello, are you really going to jump back into that mess again?"

"Of course I am. You think I’d accept losing like this?"

He thought he’d grown stronger. That he’d matured a little. Yet his inflated pride glared enviously at the "blue-eyed genius" who was probably younger than him.

"...You should just stay here and watch. I'm serious—it's for your own good."

That same Mello was now being clung to by the girl with soft, unruly hair, begging him with trembling arms like a child.

"...What do you mean?"

"I'm sure Flatche will win. There's no reason for you to fight anymore."

"That's surprising, Mino. I figured you'd force me to fight. Say something cold like, ‘Even a slight increase in our chances is worth it.’"

"...If it were the old me, I definitely would’ve said that."

The former strategist, her eyes once dead and dry, now brimmed with tears as she denied the person she once was.

"That version of me was a fake. I was just trying to look good in front of you, trying to be the version of myself you’d approve of—desperately pretending to be a strategist."

"No. Mino, you were amazing. Like during the last border defense—your plan alone pretty much won us that battle. Even this time, you’ve done so much..."

"I was wrong. I realized it just now. I’m just a foolish little girl, pretending to understand how rational judgment works."

She couldn’t make the choice. When she had to weigh the life of the man she loved against countless civilians, she couldn’t choose the people.

"That’s why someone like me has no right to make decisions like that."

She was supposed to look at the bigger picture—to stand in a position where she could weigh "the loss of a few individuals" against "the benefit of the majority" and make the fair and beneficial choice.

A person swayed by personal emotions, acting for their own interest, has no place above a nation. No matter how cold-blooded it may seem, if you're going to sacrifice others’ lives, that’s the only acceptable way.

In short, she had already lost the right to be a strategist. Someone who "chooses one man over the lives of the people due to personal feelings" must not be entrusted with power. That’s precisely why she had never forced that heavy burden on Emma until now.

In the end, Mino was no different from Emma.

"—Sigh. Mino, even I know that’s not right."

"...Huh? What do you mean?"

"Mino, you're wrong."

Thunk. A rough knuckle gently tapped Mino on the head.

It was Mello, uncharacteristically soft in tone, giving her a rare scolding.

"If everything Mino's done so far was fake, then why is the capital flourishing like this?"

"But that’s..."

"How many lives have been saved thanks to your counsel? Even factoring in the losses, how many people have you protected?"

Mello's words—spoken by the one who had once acknowledged and saved her—meant more than anything to her.

Even if it sounded like an offhanded rant without much thought, Mello had unquestionably saved her once.

"Don’t deny your past. If you're ashamed of it, then regret it with everything you've got and keep pushing forward."

"But just now, I—"

"You've made little mistakes before, haven’t you, Mino? Why lose heart over getting one thing wrong?"

Mino had worked tirelessly, relying on the words Mello once spoke to her in her darkest hour.

With every sacrifice she bore, she continued to pursue the greatest happiness for the greatest number.

"Stick to it, Mino. So you got it wrong once—so what?"

"..."

"Or are you saying that all the small sacrifices you’ve made so far were meaningless?"

"...Ah."

That’s why—just because she faltered once, Mino mustn’t break. If she gave in here, that would be the true waste—the true betrayal of the countless innocent few she had cast aside for the sake of the many.

That’s why she must remain a cold, calculating strategist until the day she dies. That was the vow she had made with Mello.

"…Sorry. I’m awake now, Mello."

"Oh?"

The girl's eyes settled into focus. The teary, pitiful gaze of a woman clinging to her beloved's sleeve for comfort was gone—replaced by a cold, blazing fire.

It was a look Mello knew all too well. The piercing glare of the infamous military strategist once called the worst menace in the national army.

"...Heh. I see. You're right. A villain has to play the villain to the end, huh? Give me one minute—I need to gather my thoughts."

"Yeah. Use me however you want, Mino."

"Thanks."

Having reclaimed something vital, she gave a small smile in response to Mello’s unwavering trust.

Then, rising gracefully to her feet, she folded her arms and silently fixed her gaze on the ongoing clash between human and demon directly ahead.

---

“This is fun, Flatche!!”

Madolf twisted his torso with delight.

“It might be, Madolf!!”

The female swordsman glided over the earth like the wind.

Though they were in a fight to the death, the two laughed as they tried to kill each other.

“When’s that Rex guy supposed to show up?”

“No idea, he’s always late!”

“Ahahaha!”

Their faces looked more like they were playing than battling. But in their eyes, there was unmistakable murderous intent.

They were serious—giving everything they had in this fight. And because of that, they could exchange words with a smile.

Resentment, hatred, hostility, and bloodlust—all of it was expressed through their fists and blades.

“Say, Flatche. Why don’t you join the Demon King’s Army? Let’s take the world together.”

“You should be the one to join my party, Madolf. You’d make a great sparring partner.”

On the surface, it sounded cordial. But their blows were brutal. A deep understanding had formed between them.

No one could intrude upon that bond—not from anywhere.

Or so it should have been.

“Hmm?”

“Huh?”

Midway through their bout, the world suddenly lost all color. It was the exact same sensation Madolf had felt not long before.

A feeling like the phase of the world had shifted.

“Ah, sorry for interrupting while you were going at it. This time, I’ve made a barrier with no escape, I promise.”

Startled, both halted their sword and fist, quickly scanning their surroundings.

And there she stood—smiling cheerfully, right beside the Demon King and Flatche—the one who’d altered this world.

“…Huh?”

“Sorry, Flatche-san. You’re going to have to be a sacrifice in this world, with me.”

“…Huh?”

“Even the last barrier was nearly impossible to escape unless you located the core. This time, I’ve modified it so the core moves randomly and can’t be pinpointed. Based on estimates, the escape probability is about one in a million.”

“…Haaah?”

Yes. Mino had repaired and repurposed the collapsed barrier spell while Flatche was fighting. After heavily modifying the spell structure to make escape nearly impossible.

“Now, none of us can escape anymore! Sorry!”

“Whaaaaaaaat!?”

Madolf and Flatche were both dumbfounded. They’d thought they were locked in their final battle—only to be caught mid-fight in an inescapable trap, voiding everything.

This wasn’t just throwing cold water on things—it was pouring ice down their backs.

“Wh-Wha… What the hell!?”

“Ahahaha. If Flatche-san loses here, a lot of innocent people in this country will die. I had to stop that.”

“Wait, hold on. What!?”

Ah. A demon. The infamous demon tactician of the national army stood there.

One who never left victory to chance. Who would sacrifice whatever necessary to ensure success.

“…But you know, Flatche-san. I think… I want to believe. Just a little.”

“Believe in what…?”

“In you. In Mello. In what humans are capable of.”

However—this wasn’t like the usual Mino. Something about her was clearly different.

Ordinarily, she would have stayed outside the barrier and coldly locked Flatche and the Demon King inside.

That’s the difference between the Mino of before and the one standing here now.

“Flatche-san. Do your best—and show me you can win.”

At those words, a white light charged in behind the Demon King.

“Defeat Madolf. If you do, I’ll acknowledge your victory too.”

“UOOOOHH!!”

With a roar, something lunged at Madolf and carved off a piece of his golden back. A small wound was etched into the Demon King’s body.

“Click! Too shallow.”

“Ohh!”

It was Mello, shining in white. One of humanity’s hopes—capable of slaying the Demon King.

“Don’t go whining about it being unfair, Madolf. You’re in the heart of humanity’s stronghold.”

“Gu… Hahahahaha!! That’s right, that’s right! I forgot how sneaky you humans are! Flatche felt so damn good to fight, I’d completely forgotten!!”

Mino had rejected uncertainty and risk to the people. She aimed for the best possible outcome—one without a single sacrifice.

Surely, the old Mino would have called this a naïve and foolish choice.

But—

“A new era is coming. The paths you choose from here on out… I’ll support you from the shadows, quietly watching.”

She deliberately chose that sentimental path.

Knowing her own time was short, she placed her faith in the new generation—those present now. In Penny and Emma, who would soon rise to lead. She took the path of rejecting the logic of sacrifice, seeking the best possible ending.

“Now. Try and defeat me, Flatche.”

There were no more tears in her eyes. Only a cold, clear gaze—straightforward, ruthless, and yet tinged with a faint, unmistakable kindness.

---

Mello’s powerful strikes could pierce even Madolf’s monstrous flesh—but only just. At best, they gouged the surface.

Flatche skillfully deflected every one of Madolf’s attacks. But she had no means of truly wounding him.

Only by combining their strength did even a sliver of hope appear. Such was the difference in raw power between humans and demons.

“Hey, you bratty girl! Make an opening for my ultimate move! Like, a hundred times!”

“As if I could do that many!! Just finish it already, damn it!!”

Several times, Mello’s attacks managed to chip away at the Demon King’s body. But that was the extent of their results. Neither had landed a decisive blow.

“Don’t miss the damn opening this time, idiot!!”

“That wasn’t even remotely an opening, brat!!”

Though their words were nothing but bickering insults, their coordination in battle was flawless. In fact, the very move Mello had just pulled off had been taught to her by none other than Flatche herself. They knew each other's movements inside and out.

You could even call Mello Flatche’s apprentice in practice.

“If I don’t defeat this demon, Mino’s going to kill herself! Just so she doesn’t pass on the method to escape this barrier!”

“Wha—! She’d go that far!?”

“Mino would go that far!! So shut up and make me the opening!!”

Mello was desperate.

Originally, Mino had planned to trap the Demon King in a modified barrier and abandon him there. But then, mid-plan, she changed her mind: “Right… I should think about what happens after I’m gone too.” And she revised the plan into one where Flatche could also be saved.

That new plan meant both Mino and Mello would enter the barrier themselves. If they succeeded in defeating Madolf, Mino would lift the spell. It was a gamble—no more, no less.

“Once I’m gone, this kind of strategy will probably become standard. Then I’ll be the one to show how it’s done.”

She made sure the people wouldn’t suffer, placing safeguards while still aiming for the best possible outcome. To the old Mino, it would’ve seemed like a foolish and inefficient strategy.

But now, she was even thinking of what came after her own death.

(If this plan fails, and I or Mello die meaninglessly… then Emma and Penny will learn to make colder, harsher calls.)

That’s why, to her, the outcome didn’t matter.

If they lost, it would prove that her original, ruthless strategies were right. Emma would likely follow in her footsteps, at least partially.

However—

(But if Flatche wins… that means I was wrong.)

Originally, Mino had intended to leave Flatche behind and kill her along with Madolf.

But if she did that, Rex would surely be enraged. And losing both Flatche and Rex—the two next-generation cornerstones of this nation—would be too great a blow.

If there was even the slightest chance that Flatche could survive and win, then that meant the strategy of abandoning her had been a mistake.

(Now then… how will it turn out?)

That’s why, with little time left to live, Mino chose to look toward the future. She accepted the possibility that she might have been wrong, and chose a plan where everyone had a chance to be saved.

It was the kind of strategy only someone like her—a brilliant tactician—could have chosen. No ordinary strategist would ever bet on a plan that risked proving themselves wrong.

She was a tactician who always kept her eyes fixed high. One who could put the nation’s needs ahead of her own ego.

---

And then, at last, the decisive moment arrived.

"MAAADORUUUUUF!!!"

With a roar, Mello charged the Demon King.

"There you are!!"

Madorf, reacting with superhuman speed, swung his fist. Caught head-on and unable to dodge, Mello was struck.

"Aaaaaaaaagh!!!"

With a thunderous boom, Mello was slammed into the barrier wall once more.

"Mello!?"

"I'm... still good!!"

It seemed he had managed to break his fall somewhat—he was in better shape than last time. Coughing up blood, Mello forced himself back to his feet.

"You idiot!! He’s going right for you!!"

But there was no way Madorf would let such a wounded Mello slip by.

The golden Demon King closed the distance at blinding speed to the staggering black sword-wielder.

"Finally... one down."

"W-Wait!!"

Mello still hadn’t regained his stance. While the damage was less severe thanks to his fall, his balance was off—this was no time for precise movement.

He was in what could only be called a hopeless situation.

"Die."

Flatche was chasing from far behind Madorf. Her speed was that of a normal human—nothing exceptional.

She wouldn’t make it. She couldn’t. No one could stop the finishing blow Madorf launched toward Mello.

"...Yeah. Now’s the time, Rex-kun."

At that very moment, as Mello stood on death’s doorstep, the strategist's voice rang out through the barrier.

"—The hawk in crisis strikes from the dirt."

That voice—the young swordswoman knew it well.

To her, it was unmistakably the symbol of 'absolute strength.'

And there, behind the pillar from which Madorf had leapt toward Mello—stood a towering man, greatsword raised, lying in wait.

"Wh—who the—?"

"Shining Blade: Hawk."

That blow, moving at the speed of light, pierced straight through Madorf’s core and sent him flying with overwhelming force.

Sword Saint Rex—having received Karin’s healing and raced to the throne—had also been waiting inside the barrier.

"Ambush is a basic tenet of strategy, after all."

Mino grinned fearlessly, folding her arms with amusement.

"Alright—finish this."

She gave the order, calm and clear.

"UWOOOOOOHH!!!"

There was a man chasing after the Demon King as he was blown away.

A black sword in hand, the embodiment of recklessness charged past the Sword Saint, not sparing him a glance, eyes locked on Madorf.

"...The outer shell’s broken. I’ve done all I can do."

The Sword Saint watched the still-green swordsman with a patient gaze.

"Finish him. Including magic, you’ve got the highest firepower here, Mello."

And he waited for the finale.

Madorf slammed into the barrier wall with tremendous force. Groaning, he collapsed on the spot, blood gushing from his mouth.

"Ahh!!"

In that wide-open moment, Mello charged, roaring, and thrust his sword without losing momentum.

Right into Madorf’s core, where Rex had already torn a massive rift.

"O flames of the underworld, wandering souls, raging duststorms—"

With a solid gori, Mello drove his prized sword into Madorf. Quietly, he began to chant.

"Great soul, be calmed—scatter your lingering regrets into the eternal void."

"Ugh... ah..."

This was his specialty.

A devastating area-of-effect fire spell—and a healing spirit magic to lay the dead to rest.

"Explode—Requiem of the Soothing Flame!"

That absurdly powerful spell—

Originally intended to annihilate wide areas, now unleashed by Mello, the prodigy—

"GAAAAAAAAAH—!"

Burned away Madorf’s fragile internal organs with pristine precision.

---

"────Ah, ah..."

"Still alive, Madorf?"

The battle was over.

Madorf had nearly all of his internal organs scorched by direct fire. No matter how skilled a healer might be, there was no saving him. He had been, without question, killed.

"Yeah... I can still talk."

"Y-You're tough, huh."

And yet, Madorf wore a strange smile, turning it toward the three swordsmen who were now speaking to him.

"You're strong. That swordsmanship of yours..."

"Right?"

"…It's the kind of technique that gets sharpened through battle with others, right? That’s... nice. I’m jealous."

There was no more hostility in him. Madorf continued speaking with a kind of satisfied look.

"…Ahh. You’re lucky, Flatche. You’ve got comrades this strong by your side."

"Me? Well, yeah, I guess having the strongest right next to me was a stroke of luck."

"That’s a fortune nothing can replace. Treasure it."

Blue fluid oozed from Madorf’s now-hollow body. It was likely his blood.

"I wanted that too. I wanted friends I could grow stronger with."

"...Madorf..."

"We demons—we’re beings who live for battle. To not have anyone to fight... that's just too lonely."

Those eyes—so full of sadness—looked so much like someone Flatche knew all too well.

"I'm glad I came here. For the first time in a while, I was able to give it my all."

"...You got killed, and you still think it was worth coming here?"

"Yeah. Better than growing old, losing my strength, and dying without ever being challenged again. I came here, fought at my peak, gave it everything—and lost. Even if I died here... I can honestly say I’m glad I came."

That sense of desolation—the loneliness of a strong one, feared and unchallenged—was something only a few could truly understand.

"Thanks for fighting me... humans."

And to that demon, closing his eyes—there was someone here who probably understood his heart better than anyone else.

"Hey... Madorf. You got what you wanted."

Sword Saint Rex spoke softly to the golden demon, whose eyes were beginning to fade and grow unfocused.

"In your final moments... the three who defeated you are here, watching over your death."

That was a genuine sentiment, born of deep understanding—Rex’s heartfelt eulogy for a kindred warrior spirit.

"There's no greater honor for a martial artist than that."

And so, the strongest demon—Madorf—slowly drew his last breath.