[Assistant] Wilhelm reflected bitterly that when Roswaal had spoken of things being better for “everyone,” this apparently had not included him.

[User] "You look like someone who looost a bet."

[Assistant] After minimal argument, Wilhelm had found himself at the vanguard of his group, but his perpetual pout didn’t inspire much confidence.

[User] "Are you as eeeager as all that to cut people down?" Roswaal kept cheerily striking up a conversation with him as he tried to focus.

[Assistant] "Don’t talk about people like monsters. It’s not that I want to kill anyone. I want to find a worthwhile opponent to fight. And if I hadn’t had to babysit you all day, I might have actually stood a chance of doing that."

[User] "Some might say that answer sounds monstrous enough. Either way, the best you could’ve hoped for on security detail is a little defensive action… Somehow I doubt that would be enough for you."

[Assistant] "Well, don’t you have it all figured out. You don’t know what you’re talking about."

[User] "You’re quite direct, aaaren’t you? Well, I don’t have a problem with that." Roswaal put her hand to her mouth and laughed.

[Assistant] Wilhelm could only frown.


[User] The battle had reshaped the topography; trees had been felled, the green earth burned black. Broken weapons and empty armor littered the area. The war had well and truly left its mark.

[Assistant] "Does it hurt to look at?"

[User] "Not especially."

[Assistant] "I suppooose I’m not surprised. You don’t seem the type."

[User] “…Well, neither do you.”

[Assistant] "Goodness graaacious, you might just be one step aheeead of me." Maybe Roswaal disliked silence, because she seemed to interject at every opportunity. Wilhelm had already decided he would have to watch her closely. He could tell from the way Carol carried herself that she was a capable fighter, but it was Roswaal, with her unknown depths, who demanded the most caution. He had been told she was a specialist in magic, but he didn’t believe for a second that that was all there was to her. One might have expected Carol to take more exception than anyone to Wilhelm’s curt attitude, but Grimm had been keeping her busy the entire time. Realizing that she and Wilhelm would only argue if left to their own devices, he had decided to engage her in a constant stream of conversation. The talk seemed to be going fairly smoothly, which made things easier for Wilhelm.

[User] "So you’re saying you weren’t originally going to be on guard duty today?"

[Assistant] "That’s right."

[User] "Originally, the person I serve was going to come along as a bodyguard. But something came up, so I had to come instead. I’m afraid it’s most inconvenient for Lady Mathers." She sounded distraught.

[Assistant] Grimm wasn’t quite sure how to respond. "Oh, um, but I’m sure if your master had come, someone like me would only be underfoot. I’m sure that would have been even worse…"

[User] It didn’t matter to Wilhelm. As long as Grimm kept Carol talking, that was enough. If the conversation didn’t come around to him, he had no intention of getting involved. Only the hint of someone even more powerful than Carol caught his attention. Granted, there was a distinct possibility that Carol was speaking humbly of herself while exaggerating the abilities of her master, but still…

[Assistant] "I believe I heard you were called Wilhelm, isn’t that riiight?"

[User] “…Yeah, that’s right.”

[Assistant] "Quite a mouth you have. May I suppose you have skills to maaatch?"

[Assistant] "Not given to bragging? Weeell, the squad leader and his assistant didn’t hesitate to give you the most important job. It’s a sign of how much you’re truuusted. It gives me high hopes for you." Ignoring the silent swordsman, Roswaal nearly skipped along, fingers interlaced behind her head; she seemed ready to start humming at any moment.

[User] "It looks like we’ll be there soon." As she spoke, she and her escorts arrived at the top of a hill. Below, they could see the faint outline of a geometric shape.


[User] The earth had been torn up in places, and parts of the sigil were buried, but it was the magic circle Wilhelm had seen on the day of the battle.

[Assistant] “Weeell now, I wonder what we’ll find?” Roswaal immediately slid down the hill to get a closer look.

[User] Carol hurried after her, and Grimm, in turn, stuck close to Carol.

[Assistant] Wilhelm shrugged and, along with the other two squad members, kept watch from the top of the hill. Wilhelm hadn’t sensed another living thing all day, and that didn’t change now. He didn’t know where Bordeaux and the others were, but it was nowhere nearby. So far the day had brought only boredom.

[User] “…Now I see.”

[Assistant] “I thought this might be what was going on when I first heard about it. They took their time setting this up. It wouldn’t have been possible if both the strategist and the person who carried it out weren’t very, veeery accomplished with magic. This could be a threat to the whole kingdom.”

[User] “Is—is it really? Are these magic circles as powerful as all that?”

[Assistant] “The circles themselves are dangerous, of course, but what’s more threatening is the implication that the enemy has more than one highly capable maaagic user. You’d have to be a little crazy even to think of covering an entire battlefield with magic circles. But it means they could do the saaame thing elsewhere.”

[User] “H-how…? !” Grimm seemed more intimidated than Roswaal’s assessment warranted. He stood there quivering at a hypothetical situation. He was definitely not made for soldiering. He kept rubbing the back of his neck and glancing around, as though he had a bad feeling he couldn’t shake.

[Assistant] “Wilhelm! Aren’t you getting a weird feeling?”

[User] “No,” Wilhelm replied indifferently to the desperate boy.

[Assistant] “Your mind is just playing tricks on y—”

[User] Wilhelm let his gaze drift to the bottom of the hill—where he saw an arrow flying through the air, heading straight for where Roswaal was crouched on the ground.

[Assistant] Wilhelm's judgment was instantaneous, his action only slightly slower. He drew the sword at his hip faster than the eye could see and threw it so that it planted itself in the ground just beside Roswaal, and the blade took the arrow instead of her. The clink as the arrow bounced off the steel alerted everyone to the ambush. But why hadn’t Wilhelm noticed anything?

[User] “Ambush! Everyone, at the ready!” He dashed down the hill. He retrieved his sword from the earth and brought it up; in his peripheral vision, he could see Carol and Grimm readying their weapons as well. The other two squad members belatedly started making their way down the hill, but Wilhelm motioned for them to stay at the crest. Then he started scanning the area. He saw something.

[Assistant] “…Look there.” Directly across from the hill, a figure with a bow was down on one knee.


[User] Unhurried, it drew another arrow and pulled back the bowstring. Then, without hesitation, it fired. “—” Wilhelm swept away the incoming projectile with his sword, then fixed his gaze on the opponent.

[Assistant] Beside him, Grimm apparently couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Th-Tholter…?”

[User] The attacker was, or was once, his friend—the archer Tholter Weasily. Now, Tholter hardly bore looking at. He was barely human. Half the flesh of his face was missing, revealing bone and one round eyeball. Pus flowed from his wounds, the raw flesh crawling with maggots. The rotting specter was covered only with bits of cloth and some broken armor. The hand gripping the bow was missing several fingers.

[Assistant] “Is that corpse…moving…?” Carol, her sword in front of her, had gone pale at the sight of the dead Tholter. The grotesque spectacle was only made worse by the seeming impossibility of it.

[User] Still, Carol looked to be doing better than Grimm, who was beyond pale and seemingly ready to faint clean away at any moment.

[Assistant] “Hey, magician,” Wilhelm said, “…is that something you can do with magic?”

[User] “You’re awfully cooold for a man who just saw a living corpse. I gather it’s someone you know?”

[Assistant] “The dead don’t mean anything to me. So no, I don’t know him.”

[User] “A laudable view. To answer your question…yes and no. This isn’t strictly the domain of maaagic. It’s a curse,” Roswaal answered with an air of self-importance.

[Assistant] Wilhelm raised an eyebrow at this. But there was no time to pursue the subject further. Tholter was not their only enemy.

[Assistant] There was a rustling sound as corpses began clawing their way up out of the earth one after another, all around them. Some were the dead of the royal army, others former demi-humans. Apparently the curse was not picky. None of the undead warriors were in perfect condition, but they were nearly a hundred strong, which gave them the advantage. Wilhelm clicked his tongue, then had Roswaal stand in the center of their formation, with him, Carol, and Grimm surrounding her.

[User] “Weeell, now,” she said, “this is an unexpected development. I thought you might just run off to fight them all yourself.”

[Assistant] “Don’t think I wouldn’t like to. But I can’t have you dying on us, either. I won’t be watching your back. Just pray those other two are useful.”

[User] “What was that?! How dare you—!”

[Assistant] Grimm’s shout interrupted her. “Carol, here they come!”

[User] The zombies leaped at them from every direction at once. A huge corpse with an enormous sword was advancing on Wilhelm, along with another body that had its arms outstretched, despite having no hands and no head. How much damage would they have to do to these corpses in order to keep them at bay?

[Assistant] “Whatever, it’s obvious just cutting off their heads won’t stop them.” Wilhelm struck out with his sword, slicing the hands off the creature with the massive blade.


[User] As he brought his arm back, he cut through its belly, then swept across the groin again as the body toppled. It had been carved up into six pieces, including the two detached arms. When the pieces reached the ground, they stopped moving. Wilhelm made two diagonal cuts at the handless zombie, cutting it into four pieces; these, too, laid still. "You just have to kill them one extra time."

[Assistant] "What a remaaarkable calculation." He said behind him. He could almost hear the grin in her voice.

[User] Wilhelm glanced over his shoulder. Carol was slicing up three undead in front of her, and Grimm was supporting her with his shield, shoring up the battle line. The two men left on top of the hill were taking care of themselves, like the members of Zergev Squadron they were, and making short work of the undead warriors around them. The zombies were not stout fighters. However capable they might have been as soldiers in life, as corpses, none of them had much martial ability to speak of. They were simply no match for the living warriors. "I’m only getting my blade dirty. Where’s the wizard controlling them?"

[Assistant] "I appreciate your trust, but I’m afraid even I’m haaaving a little trouble tracking them. But with this many zombies to handle, they can’t be far."

[User] "No? All right, then." If they kept to this battleground, soon there would be no more corpses around them. And no more corpses meant no more zombies. But Wilhelm found that deeply dissatisfying. "—" Fending off the attacks of the encroaching undead, he struck with his blade and returned them to the dust. The undead warriors stank of rot and shuffled with disgusting audible sloshes, but Wilhelm took careful note of their behavior. He cut his way to the center of the horde, where two zombies stood, unmoving. The undead pressed against him, as if they were trying to protect something. But an overhead chop and two swift kicks delivered a second death. He brought his sword back and was about to stab, when—

[Assistant] "Hrk!" A gout of flame spouted in front of him, forcing him to jump back. Wilhelm slashed wildly at the approaching fire until the air in front of him shimmered, and the empty space suddenly filled with a small humanoid figure. Wilhelm’s blood ran cold as he took this in. It was a small girl in a white robe.

[User] "...Not going the way I’d planned." She muttered. She looked to be around ten years old—a little younger or a little older, perhaps. She had long light-pink hair and a charming face. Other than her bare feet, and the robe that was her only clothing, she looked like a perfectly ordinary, if remarkably calm, young girl. That made it all the more unsettling to know that a horrible fiend was lurking under the girlish guise.


[User] "What—what monster is this?" Wilhelm said, almost to himself.

[Assistant] "Monster…? So I am indeed incomplete. I have a long way to go before I’m like my mother." The girl whispered sadly, frowning.

[User] "Mother? Surely you jest. To think that hideous damaged goods like you share anything at all with my honored teacher. I won’t heeear of it." Roswaal stepped forward, her easygoing amusement was gone, replaced by a furious glare that she fixed on the little girl.

[Assistant] "I’m sorry. Who are you?" The girl, for her part, appeared puzzled by Roswaal’s anger.

[User] "Your doom. I will destroy you, utterly and entirely."

[Assistant] "Then I’m very sorry. Especially as you seem serious." The girl appeared practically emotionless, in stark contrast to the building rage and increasingly dangerous glint in Roswaal’s eye.

[User] "Happily, I was able to obtain what I came here for, and I need not trouble myself with you any further. I’ll be going now. You have given me much to think about." The girl took this in stride, scanning her environment and gesturing at the undead warriors.

[Assistant] The girl bowed her head, and her body began rising up off the ground.

[User] "Stop right there, you—!" Wilhelm dived at her, meaning to prevent her escape, but the undead warriors closed in to stop him.

[Assistant] "Out of my way!" He seemed caught off guard by a zombie that dodged his attack and moved to counter. It was so fast, like a different creature from the puppets of before. He could see that all the zombies around him were moving more readily, too. Even Wilhelm couldn’t cut these things down in a single blow, and yet they still were no match for him…

[User] "Y-yaaaarrrgh!"

[Assistant] "All of a sudden…there’s so many of them… I can’t hold them all…!" He heard Grimm scream and saw that Carol, too, was wounded and moving slowly. Eventually, everyone but Wilhelm would be overwhelmed.

[User] "We’ve reduced their numbers, but that’s probably made the rest of them more powerful. There must be one ‘core’ zombie that’s acting as a control point for all the others. If we destroy it, we might be able to turn this around."

[Assistant] "How can we tell which one it is?"

[User] "It’ll move differently. That’s the key…if you can tell."

[Assistant] Wilhelm looked to the hill, hoping to get help from his squad mates atop it, but he found that an arrow fired with incredible force had pierced one of them at the hip and torn out a chunk of flesh. Tholter was the culprit, as sharp with supporting fire as he had been in life.


[User] It came to Wilhelm in a flash. The zombie whose abilities were unchanged from life—Tholter Weasily—was the control point.

[Assistant] "I believe we’ve chosen someone you will find difficult to kill. We’ve been watching you." This dispassionate remark came from the girl, getting farther and farther away.

[User] Grinding his teeth, Wilhelm counted how many enemies there were between him and Tholter, and then, practically afire with rage, he cut the undead warrior in front of him into four pieces. It wouldn’t be enough. Wilhelm could reach Tholter and kill him. But while he was busy doing that, his three companions would become zombie food. There was only one way to keep the battle line intact and still stop Tholter… "Grimm!" Wilhelm shouted. "You have to get Tholter! He’s the core!"

[Assistant] They were trapped at the bottom of a bowl. Out of all of them, Grimm was the least useful in battle. The deeper they went, the more enemies there would be, and losing him would have the least impact on their overall strength.

[User] Grimm, his shield still up, looked at Tholter, then at the undead creature that had stolen his friend’s body. He shook his head again and again. "I—I can’t do that! I can’t!"

[Assistant] "You go! I’ll take your place helping the girl! Get up that hill and chop off his head! He’s an archer with no one to guard him. If you can get close, you can kill him!"

[User] "It’s not about whether I can beat him or not! You’re telling me to kill my friend!" Grimm was practically on the verge of tears even as he desperately fended off the enemy’s attacks.

[Assistant] Wilhelm knew Grimm and Tholter had been close. He was also aware that Grimm had been incapable of using his sword ever since the annihilation of their unit. And yet… "Yes, I am! So what? !"

[User] "So what? So everything! I can’t murder my friend! I… I’m not like you! I can’t do it!"

[Assistant] "What part of that thing is your friend? Can’t you see through your tears? Your friend is dead and gone! That thing is a corpse. It just got a little lost—it shouldn’t be here!" Wilhelm saw Carol slip. She took a sideswipe at the zombie that was about to attack her. The pieces bounced off Grimm’s rounded back.

[User] Wilhelm gave him a shove and shouted, "‘Oh, I can’t, I can’t!’ That’s how it always is with you! You spend all your time looking for excuses! Well, if you have the energy to argue, you have the energy to go over there and kill that thing! Stop blubbering and go put an end to it!"

[Assistant] "—" Wilhelm shouted his philosophy relentlessly as he felled zombie after zombie. He sensed Grimm straightening up behind him.


[User] The boy looked at his feet and muttered, “It might be Tholter.”

[Assistant] "So what?! Tell me!”

[User] “I just can’t use my sword anymore. I’m so scared.”

[Assistant] “So what? !”

[User] “Everyone else died, and I lived, and I can’t stand it!”

[Assistant] “So what? !”

[User] “I don’t want to die! !”

[Assistant] Back to back, they shouted at each other. And then Grimm rushed forward, shield raised.

[User] Carol hurried after him to support him while Wilhelm set himself to the bloody work of protecting Roswaal.

[Assistant] Grimm raced up the hill, deflecting the undead warriors’ blows with his shield, reaching Tholter in one mad dash.


[Assistant] "This’s the last oooonnne!” Bordeaux slammed his battle-ax into the undead warrior with fantastic force, reducing it to a collection of fleshy bits that in no way resembled a human body. The huge warrior heaved a sigh, resting his halberd on his shoulder and brushing off the bits of gore stuck to his armor. “Right! Battle’s over! If you’re dead, gimme a yell!”

[User] "That’s not possible.” Pivot replied. “Because, as I’m pleased to report, everyone is alive.”

[Assistant] “My, my, myyy, what a fine display. You all saved me!” It was sometime after the fighting ended. The squad sat on the ground as Roswaal showered praise on them.

[User] Pivot turned to her and, adjusting his monocle, asked, “Tell us, Miss Mathers. What were those undead creatures?”

[Assistant] “That’s an eeexcellent question. They’re a sign that there’s more to this situation than meets the eye. I have to report back to the castle as soon as possible. We’ll have to exercise the uuutmost caution.”

[User] “The utmost caution…?” This sounded grim. Pivot raised an eyebrow.

[Assistant] Roswaal nodded, sending waves through her indigo hair.

[User] "Not sure I agree.” Bordeaux said, crossing his arms. “It’s just some walking dead. What’s the danger?”

[Assistant] “The zombies are just a start. The question is who’s controlling them, and who set up the magic circles. I suspect they’re the same person.”

[User] Wilhelm, still holding his precious sword, frowned at Roswaal.

[Assistant] Roswaal either didn’t notice or ignored him. She pointed to what was left of the magic circle and said, “It was the same person who brought this kind of unusual magical ability to the Demi-human Alliance and used the curse to control the zombies. She calls herself…Sphinx. She belongs to the Witch’s legacy, you might say. That’s probably the clearest way of communicating how dangerous she is.”


[User] The long shadow she cast over the war bogging down the royal forces and the Demi-human Alliance was no illusion. What was more, the connection to the Witch formed there would lead the kingdom of Lugunica, Zergev Squadron, and above all Wilhelm himself to an unavoidable fate.

[Assistant] Wilhelm Trias, the Sword Devil, had not yet encountered his destiny. It would all start three years later, when he turned eighteen.


[User] “…Do not…let Wilhelm die!” The yell inspired the other members of the squadron; they fought their immobile bodies to confront Libre and his twin blade.

[Assistant] Libre's dulled movements succumbed to his dancing weapon, and one by one they spilled their blood upon the battlefield.

[User] “…Stop…” Wilhelm had fallen to his knees. Pivot had protected him, but he was still injured. The swordsman watched Zergev Squadron being dismantled one man at a time in front of his eyes, and he couldn’t even stand up.

[Assistant] “STOOOPPP!” He howled with all the emotion that roiled within him. Was Libre its true object? Or was he shouting at his squad mates, protecting him at the cost of their own lives? He himself didn’t know. His voice echoed cruelly as the twin blade continued carving up his squadron. The pile of bodies grew.

[User] "You’re good men, all."

[Assistant] “…Why has it come to this?”

[User] "Damned if I know. But I’m sure of one thing: We won’t let Wilhelm be killed. Because he is the sword of the Kingdom of Lugunica!” Grimm tossed aside his own blade and raised his shield, blocking Libre’s blows. This was the fruit of all the time he had spent on the defensive, and Grimm was able to resist far longer than any of the other squad members. But it was all relative. If it had taken only a single attack to fell the other men, it took five to reach Grimm.

[Assistant] “Ghhgh—” Grimm couldn’t move his shield in time, and the twin blade dug into his throat. Grimm’s eyes went wide at the critical blow; he dropped his shield and collapsed to the ground. Blood frothed from the wound, and the limbs of the Defender of the Shield twitched helplessly. And then a merciless blow descended from directly above him…

[User] “Hrraaaaahhhh! !” Possessed by a killing rage, Wilhelm flung himself at Libre. The serpent was slow to respond to this unexpected counterattack, and the two of them tumbled to the ground, tangled together, and fell into a hollow. As up and down switched places, they beat at each other until they reached the bottom of the depression. Spitting blood and giving animal howls, the Sword Devil and the snake rolled to the place of their final battle.


[Assistant] Carol could make no move to guard her mistress; somewhere inside she resigned herself to watching Roswaal explode. But her despair turned to amazement.

[User] “…Well. Well…”

[Assistant] "Didn’t I tell you? I am the one who will kill you.” Sphinx was clutching her abdomen, which had been hit. For the first time, she was breathing with pain.


[User] The source of the injury was Roswaal, who had dodged the beam of light and stepped in to deliver a punch.

[Assistant] She shook her indigo hair, raising her hands as if ready to box.

[User] “Not everyone is affected by a magic circle in the same way. It’s a difference in our mana cycles. Simply put, the more adept you are at sorcery, the more susceptible you’ll be to a circle’s effects. It makes things simple. The worse of a sorcerer you are, the more normally you’ll be able to move.”

[Assistant] “I had heard you were a specialist in magic, but this…”

[User] “I know more than anyone. I juuust can’t put it into practice. This generation, Roswaal J. Mathers, is completely and totally unable to use magic. That’s why I can kill you.” As she spoke, Roswaal took out a pair of steel gauntlets and put them over her hands. Her fists became weapons of steel; she was prepared to literally beat the monster before her to death.

[Assistant] “From my youngest days, I was trained in the fighting arts, all for this moment. I hope you have a chance to admire my technique before I finish you off.”

[User] Roswaal stepped in with intensity, her blows slamming through the air. Any one of them, had it landed, would have been strong enough to crush a boulder, and Sphinx quickly found herself completely on the defensive.

[Assistant] Carol gulped, enraptured by Roswaal’s fighting. The way she used her fists and the way she held herself unmistakably marked her as an accomplished practitioner, a genius whose natural talents had been honed over twenty years to forge the tremendous pugilist Carol saw before her. Roswaal had not been boasting nor exaggerating when she said she had trained since she was a girl. It was a fact. A kick that could have split a large tree in half caught Sphinx squarely, sending her light body flying sideways. Her youthful face slammed into the ground, and soon after, a gauntleted fist sought to pulverize her skull.

[User] “…This is beyond…what I imagined. My observation was insufficient.” In the blink of an eye, Sphinx was off the ground as she leaped into space. She wiped the edge of her mouth. Perhaps she had some internal injury, for fresh blood trickled relentlessly from her mouth.

[Assistant] Roswaal’s lips twisted down contemptuously as she watched her opponent float in the air.

[User] “You’re going to run?”

[Assistant] “I could also take pot shots at you from up here where you can’t reach me.”

[Assistant] Sphinx must have seen something in Roswaal’s glinting eye, because she decided to let caution prevail.

[User] “But let us cease this. I presume you have some plan prepared to knock me out of the sky.” The young witch danced through the air, leaving Roswaal and Carol farther and farther below.

[Assistant] “Lady Mathers!” Carol exclaimed.

[User] “That villain—the witch—is getting away!”

[Assistant] “I can see that,” Roswaal said, remaining calmer than her bodyguard.

[User] “But it’s no use chasing her."


[User] "And don’t call her ‘the witch.’” She took off her gauntlets. Instead of pursuing the fleeing enemy, she stepped on the magic circle, which glowed with a surfeit of magical power. “This complicated design isn’t about enhancing the effect of the magic so much as making it harder to dispel. They seem to think quiiite highly of me. And they’ve still underestimated me.”

[Assistant] As she muttered, Roswaal got down in the dirt beside the glowing circle and began scratching something into the earth.

[User] She pointed a finger at the circle and closed one eye. Her yellow iris flickered weirdly, and an instant later, the design under her feet shattered with the sound of breaking glass.

[Assistant] As the magic vanished along with it, their breath returned, and their limbs lightened. The angry red sky remembered its normal color, and the world was tinted twilight.

[User] "I can move…! Wait, Lady Mathers. What damage did we sustain from this circle?”

[Assistant] “In battle, it only takes five seconds for the tide to turn, let alone ten minutes… Who can say what’s happened?”

[User] “Grimm…” Carol immediately thought of the one she loved and whispered his name.

[Assistant] Roswaal watched the sky regain its color. “I thought I might not be able to destroy that thing here at Aihiya. So the final battle will be elsewhere…”


[User] Wilhelm was on top by the time they landed at the bottom of the depression. His face hit the damp ground, and he spat mud and dirt out of his mouth, baring his teeth at the same time.

[Assistant] Libre was reaching out as if to pull him up, and Wilhelm bit off the serpent’s fingers. He planted a knee in the snake’s stomach as he came down from above.

[User] He suddenly found his body had returned to normal. He adjusted his grip on his beloved sword and pointed it at Libre.

[Assistant] The snake-man rose, readying his twin blade. The two stared at each other. “I guess this means our magic circle is done for.”

[User] “Just as well. As I said, I have no desire to murder a helpless opponent!”

[Assistant] “Shut your mouth, you son of a bitch! I’ll never forgive you for what you did!”

[User] “Are you mad that I killed your friends? So it seems the Sword Devil has human feelings after all.”

[Assistant] For just a second, Wilhelm found he could say nothing in response to Libre’s taunts. A white-hot rage rose in his chest, as if it were not blood but magma that ran through his veins. But even he didn’t know where this tremendous anger came from. He could only deny it. “You’ve got some nerve! I’m only a sword! Just one sword! Loyalty and friendship have nothing—”

[User] Steel was beautiful. Never angry. Never complaining. Complete within itself. That was why Wilhelm wanted—

[Assistant] “I see. I think this makes sense to me now. You, at this very moment, are being reborn.”

[User] Wilhelm caught his breath.


[User] "Come at me, immature one. I shall teach you how a newborn first cries." Wilhelm brazenly sprang at Libre with everything he had.

[Assistant] The strongest warrior in the Demi-human Alliance raised his twin blade in response.


[User] "Pivot! Pivot, wake up! Don’t you die on me!" Bordeaux held him in his arms, shouting desperately.

[Assistant] Pivot’s breath came in short gasps. The lean man’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked at Bordeaux, his pupils clouded. "Y-young…sir…what an un…becoming face you’re making." A weak smile worked its way across his face.

[User] "Don’t try to talk! No, wait—keep going! Don’t die! If you go unconscious, that’s it!"

[Assistant] Pivot clung to Bordeaux’s neck, his breath growing short. His face was colorless, and the flow of blood from his wounds was abating.

[User] The only person who refused to admit his condition was fatal. "Young…young sir, you must be careful…to correct…your failings."

[Assistant] "Picking up my slack is supposed to be your job! This is a dereliction of duty, and I won’t allow it!"

[User] "Y—ng…ir… It’s been…an hon…or…" The vice captain let out a long breath, and the strength left his body.

[Assistant] "Pivot? Pivot, come on! Stop being stupid! Open your eyes! Pivot!" Bordeaux slapped the man’s cheeks, tried to force his eyes open.

[User] But Pivot’s body didn’t move. His life was gone. Even Bordeaux could see it. Yet no matter how much time passed, he couldn’t admit it.

[Assistant] Suddenly, Pivot’s remains gave a single great shudder.

[Assistant] "Pivot?" The astonished Bordeaux looked down at the body as though he couldn’t believe it.

[User] The corpse’s eyes drifted open. The pupils focused on Bordeaux.

[Assistant] "Pivo—!" The captain was just exclaiming at this miracle when two hands wrapped around his neck. His head snapped back in pain and surprise, then two arms rose and encircled his torso in an attempt to break his spine. It was as if the departed Pivot was trying to take Bordeaux with him.

[User] "Hrggh— Gah—" As the corpse throttled him, Bordeaux felt his consciousness slipping away. It was inconceivable that Pivot would betray him.

[Assistant] "Hrrr!" Grimm knocked Pivot’s body away, his shield at the ready.

[User] The two of them tumbled to the ground, practically on top of each other. Grimm didn’t get up.

[Assistant] Pivot did get up, and he reached out for the unconscious boy with a howl like a wild animal’s. The merciless fingers sought Grimm’s weakness, stretched out to take his life…

[User] "Yaaaaaahhhhhh!" With a rush of air, Bordeaux’s battle-ax caught the defenseless Pivot square in the middle of the back.


[User] This was a weapon that could slice through even armor like paper. It cut its foe nearly in two; he fell to the ground and was still at last. A corpse. This time he was well and truly a corpse. “—” Bordeaux stood poised with his battle-ax, and all around him stood the deceased members of Zergev Squadron. Faces he knew, now drained of life, pierced Bordeaux with their empty gazes.

[Assistant] Their former commander began to laugh. “Ha… Ha-ha…ha-ha-ha! Ahhh-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” These were undead puppets. A little parlor trick of the witch Sphinx. Bordeaux knew it, the moment her hatefulness entered these once-proud warriors in an attempt to profane them in death. “That witch…! That witch, thatwitchthatwitchthatwitchthatwitchthatwitchthatwiiiiitch! !” Shouting the words almost like an incantation, Bordeaux swore revenge against the true evil, the one that was doing all this despite not being present. And then he and his battle-ax set to work butchering all his newly deceased subordinates. As he cut down the encroaching zombies, sending them back into death, Bordeaux laughed. He laughed and laughed. The howls went on and on, until they mingled with sobs. The echoes reached every corner of the battlefield.


[User] The dance of death and steel was reaching its climax. Wilhelm wielded his blade with a chilling clarity, growing ever faster and more nimble. Libre’s responses with his twin blade were balletic, but his injuries were increasing as he found it harder and harder to avoid Wilhelm’s blows. This startling display of swordsmanship was the result of a mind-boggling talent combined with Wilhelm’s own sweat and tears. Libre had lived a long life and knew few who could challenge him in combat. He could only feel admiration at having found a challenger in a boy so young. This was ominous, he thought. He felt that not only the boy’s sword technique boded ill, but also the quality of his humanity. He was incomplete, imperfect. Immature. He was still young, and had not yet mastered himself. He said that he wanted to be steel. To be the swipe of a sword. Perhaps that was the task he had set himself and the motivation that had driven him. The weight and quickness of his strikes could have been achieved through halfhearted effort. But as he dodged and deflected the blows with his twin blade, Libre could feel that the torrent of emotion contained in the attacking sword was not that of steel. The emotions burned hot, and steel did not heat itself. It was the way of the human heart to be swayed by feelings, but it was those same emotions that gave intensity to their fighting. This devil who wished to be a sword—was still human.

[Assistant] "Heh-heh."

[User] Wilhelm’s face was covered in blood. "What’s so funny? !"

[Assistant] "Oh, nothing." Libre said. "It’s simply that even as we try to kill each other, I simply can’t get excited about fighting a wooden opponent.


[User] "If I’m going to pit my way of life against another’s, I want it to be someone who bleeds, someone who weeps!"

[Assistant] The commotion was immense. The flash of sparks, the clang of clashing blades, their stamping across the earth all added to the cacophony. Life bloomed in every blow, emotions were expressed in every strike, and all the noise cried out for more combat. He wasn’t steel. He wasn’t a demon. Here, he was just a boy named Wilhelm. Libre’s opponent was just a single human, and Libre himself was just a single demi-human—the whole war was encapsulated in the two of them. Wilhelm just managed to find an opening from above, spinning to bring his sword toward Libre’s neck. The serpent raised his weapon and caught it—and then the blade shattered, and Wilhelm’s strike found its mark. Libre’s vision went red. But the blow’s power had been blunted, and the sword was unable to pierce Libre’s scales. With the sword half buried in his neck, Libre brought up the remaining end of his twin blade to sweep at Wilhelm. The difference between them as species, the difference in the abilities they were born with, decided this battle. It was, indeed, the reason for this entire civil war.

[User] “In the end…maybe we are different."

[Assistant] "Maybe we can’t understand each other. For just a moment, I almost thought I had gotten through to you, if ever so little. Did I imagine it?”

[User] Wilhelm fell back, clutching the wound on his chest. Libre thrust with his sword. But even as death approached, the boy’s murderous eyes refused to admit defeat. Sadness flooded Libre’s heart. Such intense vitality did not deserve this fate.

[Assistant] “You really are human, aren’t you? So utterly human, it brings me sorrow. But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a threat to me and mine. I regret to say that this is good-bye.”

[User] The boy could not be allowed to live. Libre might be taunted; it might be said that his own humanness had been exploited in combat. But his affection for a given individual and his pride as a demi-human were different things. Libre Fermi was not in a position to give precedence to his personal feelings. He knew that all his actions must advance the demi-human cause. And so—

[Assistant] “When this is all over, I shall put a flower on your grave. A blood-red one, full of the heat of passion.”

[User] Then he raised his halved twin blade, hoping to offer the Sword Devil at least a painless death. The next instant, a beam of light pierced Libre’s chest from behind.

[Assistant] The moment before death came to him, Wilhelm’s life did indeed flash before his eyes.

[User] “Hrrk! Haah!” Blood accompanied Libre’s long tongue as it slid out of his mouth; trembling, he looked behind him in amazement. There stood the witch Sphinx, who had appeared suddenly, her glowing finger pointed in their direction.

[Assistant] “What…do you think…you’re doing?”

[User] "Right."


[User] "I have been injured more severely than I planned and am currently retreating. While I do so, I wished to request the protection of the most capable person I could, and you were near at hand, so I have selected you." Libre looked down at the hole in his chest, touched the bloodless wound, and smiled.

[Assistant] "Is that so…? I must say, this hardly looks like a request to me.”

[User] “I do not have time to negotiate, so I have decided simply to kill you and make you my puppet immediately. Do not fear. Valga has told me of how desperately he needs you. Thus, although I will turn you into an undead warrior, I plan to take every measure to prevent you from rotting. This requires careful thought.”

[Assistant] "Valga… That fool. I told him…we couldn’t control you…” Brandishing his broken blade, Libre turned toward Sphinx.

[User] She cocked her head at this behavior. "Based on your injuries and level of fatigue, I conclude that resistance is futile."

[Assistant] "Futility is no reason for inaction. I…am the pride of the demi-human race. Libre Fermi! Do not underestimate me, you little bitch!” Fangs bared, Libre sprang forward. His movements and speed would never have betrayed that he was on the edge of death.

[User] "I didn’t want to hurt you too much, but you give me no choice.” A storm of white light assaulted the oncoming Libre, piercing his chest, knees, and neck. Blood sprayed everywhere; countless coin-size holes opened in Libre’s body, and he toppled to the ground.

[Assistant] "Damnable…witch… You shall ne…never have…m-m…”

[Assistant] "V—Valga… The rest is…up to…y—” These two unfinished imprecations were Libre’s last words as a beam of light struck him in the head. And so the strongest of the demi-humans fell dead, a great hole in the middle of his face.

[User] As his chance to settle things with such a fine opponent was stolen from him, Wilhelm said nothing. He watched as Sphinx placed a palm on Libre’s remains.

[Assistant] "I will tell Valga you died honorably in battle. My study suggests that report would make you happy. Now, then…”

[User] "W-wait…” As Sphinx began to rise, Wilhelm stopped her, murder in his eyes.

[Assistant] But the way she looked at him suggested that, to her, his hatred was nothing more than a gentle breeze. “Fear not; you are safe. I have no intention of harming you. I wish to leave this place promptly and make ready for what is next. This requires preparation.”

[User] “Don’t mock me! You’re…letting me live? Why? Fight me… F-fight…me…!"

[Assistant] Sphinx’s formerly expressionless eyes widened. “I am most surprised to hear you say such a thing, in your present state.” Then she nodded several times, surveying Wilhelm with interest. “You clearly are unable to do battle. Yet you seek combat. I do not understand. Perhaps because my emotions are incomplete. I see that you, too, require observation.”

[User] “Observation…?”

[Assistant] "Valga, who burns with hatred, and Libre, who wielded his sword with sadness, were both objects of study.


[User] "You, the vessel of an anger that supersedes death, are one, too… I am eager for the next chance to observe you.” With that, Sphinx turned around.

[Assistant] “…Libre.” Wilhelm wanted to call out, stop her; he tried to rise up, but his limbs wouldn’t move. The corpse of Libre Fermi, the light gone from its eyes, stood up.

[User] Libre now wore the empty expression of an undead warrior, and he spared no attention for Wilhelm as he followed after the departing Sphinx.

[Assistant] “Damn it all,” Wilhelm growled, gritting his teeth so hard he thought they might crack and cursing his immobile body. His eyes were open wide, and he lay curled in the corner of a battlefield scorched by the flames of war, voicing his hatred to himself like a spell. "You’ll pay… You’ll pay! I’ll make you regret this… You’ll regret leaving me alive! Damn it! Damn it all to helllllll!” His last word turned into a wrenching howl of despair.


[User] Each and every one of them had become undead warriors and been dispatched by Bordeaux. Later, history would see this as a convenient point at which to mark the beginning of the final phase of the civil war. It would change not only the course of history but all those who participated in the conflict.

[Assistant] Bordeaux Zergev was now solidly on the side of demi-human extermination, moved by his profound hatred for the witch.

[User] Grimm Fauzen’s wounds cost him his voice, setting his kindhearted lover adrift on a sea of sorrow.

[Assistant] As for Wilhelm Trias, that battle was the day he began to wonder about the path of the sword and question his very way of life.

[User] He could not find the answer to that question alone. But the day he found the answer would come before long.


[User] The burning light was a beam of death, evaporating everything it touched as it carved a trail along the floor and the wall. This rain of destruction came from a peerless demon in the form of a young girl. Sphinx had retreated through the ceiling of the chapel up to the ground floor of the castle, but she was stopped by a woman in a military outfit, who had chased her.

[Assistant] “You are quite persistent."

[User] "You require extermination.”

[Assistant] “Is that sooo? If you would hurry up and die, I could go back to being a normal woman.” Roswaal kicked off the stone wall, vaulting into the air and punching at the levitating Sphinx. The girl dodged left and right, but Roswaal pushed off the wall again, her long leg tracing a beautiful arc in the sky. The kick connected with the witch, bringing her to the ground.

[User] “Grimm, with me!”

[Assistant] “—!” Carol and Grimm slammed into her from opposite directions in the corridor.

[User] Sphinx spun to meet the double attack, creating a shield of magic to defend herself against Carol’s sword, the more deadly of the two instruments.

[Assistant] “Hrk!” But of course, that left her to take Grimm’s shield blow undefended. The girl stumbled at the strike from behind and was thrown into the large, open room beyond the corridor.

[User] “We did it!” Carol whooped.

[Assistant] “No, nooo. We slipped. I was hoping to keep her here, where space is tight.” Roswaal frowned at her failed ploy. Along with the wordless Grimm, the three of them charged after Sphinx. A second later, the beam rained down upon them, turning the exit of the corridor a glowing white.


[User] “This requires caution." Sphinx said, floating in the air of the large room, well above the ceiling of the hallway.

[Assistant] "However weak, prey may turn vicious when cornered.” Her timing was perfect; she had her enemies trapped with no escape. She was confident they could never have dodged her light.

[User] “—? What trick is this?”

[Assistant] “Ohhh, it’s not so haaard to understand,” Roswaal said as she and the others emerged unharmed from the hall through the smoke. In answer to Sphinx’s question, she flung aside the cape she had been wearing.

[User] “My cape was woooven with a spell that allows it to resist any magic at all, one time.”

[Assistant] “I see. So that’s how you protected yourself and your allies. I commend your thoroughness. You truly do want to kill me.”

[User] “But of course. Still, I thiiink you still dooon’t understand how much.” Sphinx may have had an air of superiority as she stared Roswaal down, but Roswaal was undaunted.

[Assistant] “My apologies for the trouble, Lady Mathers," Carol said, stepping out from behind her, holding her sword in a low stance.

[User] "May I leave your side for a moment?”

[Assistant] “Yes, do what you want."


[User] Sphinx cocked her head, mystified by this exchange between a master and servant who had known each other a long time.

[Assistant] "She is considerably less powerful than you. Do you not merely send her to her death in vain?”

[User] “Base creature. Do not make light of the sword technique of Remendes, my house, which serves the Sword Saints," Carol said sharply. She raised her sword and, with a light-footed leap, jumped into the air, throwing herself at the witch.

[Assistant] Sphinx met this sudden, direct assault with a glowing finger. "A futile death indeed. You would have required innovation to reach me.” The beam lanced out.

[User] Carol, hanging in midair and with no wings to fly, could not avoid it.

[Assistant] "Hrm?"

[User] "I told you, don’t underestimate the Remendes family!" Carol said to the surprised witch, having neatly dodged her attack. Though she had been in midflight, Carol had kicked off of thin air to accelerate herself upward. Then she came down with a crescent strike, cleaving the witch’s undefended left arm in half.

[Assistant] “Haaagh!” The arm went flying, and a spray of blood erupted from the girl as she fell to the ground.

[User] Carol attempted to follow with another blow, but her opponent’s remaining arm flung out another beam. Carol kicked the air again and just managed to avoid it.

[Assistant] "I’ve been waiting twenty years for this, witch! Take this!" Roswaal was directly below the plummeting Sphinx, and her fist came up in a whirlwind of air. It impacted the girl’s body, the power of it coming through the metal glove, breaking bones and rupturing internal organs. The sound could be heard throughout the entire room.

[User] “—! !” Even Sphinx could not remain unperturbed in the face of such power. The deadly force drove blood from her mouth and distorted her sweet face with pain. She tried to speak, but her words were lost as she vomited. Her body tumbled to the middle of the huge room.

[Assistant] "Until I’ve crushed your skull and torn out your heart, I can’t be sure," Carol said, lowering herself to the ground and eyeing the witch. She came down from the sky less out of an abundance of caution and more for personal reasons. She would be the one to finish Sphinx. She advanced on the girl, ready to strike one decisive blow…

[User] “You sur-surprise me. I never—cough!—expected to be brought so low…” Sphinx sat up, still coughing up blood. Her face had gone pale, and she should not have been able to move. But she could still evoke an unspeakable terror.


[User] “I’m glad it was…my left arm you cut off…” Roswaal moved in, looking to crush the witch’s head with another punch before she could do anything.

[Assistant] Sphinx was faster, pulling off her robe with her remaining arm. The cloth tore away with a soft rip, and there beneath, on the girl’s white, exposed skin, was a purple design. The same one that had been drawn on Valga. “Al Ziwald.” She intoned the magic for the ultimate form of Ziwald, her death ray. The beam that had previously come only from the tip of her finger now burst from her entire palm. It was as if her hand was reaching out to annihilate everything in its path. The destructive ray speared diagonally across the great hall, and death drew nearer by the instant.


[User] The blows smashed the floor and ceiling of the chapel with the force of an oncoming wall. The giant’s strikes looked powerful enough to send a person flying, even if the hit only grazed him. But Wilhelm, the wind from the swipes rustling his hair, avoided the attacks as narrowly as he could, then struck back.

[Assistant] “It’s hopeless, boy!” Valga crowed. “Do you think a cheap little sword like that can bring down a giant?” The Sword Devil’s attacks merely bounced off the massive creature, who was strong enough to punch through steel or rock. The recoil flung Wilhelm back, and the giant’s other arm came for him.

[User] He danced away from it, but the speed of his evasion only put him further off balance, providing a critical opening.

[Assistant] “I like your talk—but this is the end!”

[User] “Gwah? !” Wilhelm was caught in midair, and Valga brought his hand down as if swatting a fly. Wilhelm defended immediately, but against the overwhelming force of the attack it was meaningless. The blow hit his entire body all at once. He bounced off the chapel floor and slammed into a row of pews. He was pinned under the rubble of the shattered seat, and silence descended.


[User] “A trifle. Now to destroy the entire castle and—”

[Assistant] “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

[User] “Hrm?” The giant’s inquisitive grunt rumbled throughout the room.

[Assistant] Wilhelm leaped at him from out of the mountain of debris. The Sword Devil was soaked in blood, but still his eyes burned with the lust for combat.

[User] Valga quickly brought up his right arm to block, but Wilhelm ducked around it. The left arm was late in coming, and he dodged it. He dashed up Valga’s arm and drove his sword into one of the giant’s astonished eyes. Giants’ skin could withstand steel, but their vital points were as fragile as a human’s. Wilhelm pierced the eye easily, and vitreous fluid gushed out, covering him.

[Assistant] “Hwoooahhhhhh!” Valga Roared in pain.

[User] The Sword Devil pulled out his blade with satisfaction. As Valga convulsed in agony, Wilhelm grabbed on to his shoulder and laughed. His own body groaned from the earlier impact; the moment of inattention had cost him several broken bones and ruptured internal organs. If he wasn’t careful, the blood would block his throat. The burning pain made him regret even having to breathe. But now—now this was his battlefield.

[Assistant] “Ruuuahhhhhh!” With a shout, Wilhelm targeted Valga’s fingers as the monster pressed a hand to his wound. He scored a hit against a joint. It felt hard under his sword, and he couldn’t sever it. But that was no reason to admit defeat or lose hope. Carrying the momentum of the deflected blow, he buried the tip of his sword in one of the howling lips. He broke through skin, pierced flesh until he felt the blade collide with a row of teeth.

[User] Valga bellowed again at this violence to his mouth. He lashed out blindly, trusting his strength to make up for his lack of precision, and scored a lucky direct hit. Wilhelm went spiraling through the air and slammed into the ground.

[Assistant] Wilhelm planted his fist into the ground to stop himself from rolling. Legs trembling, he stood. But once he was on his feet, the Sword Devil gave a click of his tongue at his own powerlessness and stared up at the giant. The sword buried in the side of the creature’s mouth seemed impossibly far away.

[User] “So this is the pain of battle…the suffering of my fellows as I sat in the shadows, concocting my little schemes. How self-important I was!” As Wilhelm stood gritting his teeth, Valga took his hand away from his wound. As Wilhelm watched, red steam drifted from his ruined left eye, and the wound healed itself. This was accompanied by an intensifying glow of the symbol on Valga’s chest—the fearful effects of the Sacrament of the Immortal King. “But I shall not be defeated while the anger and humiliation of my comrades remain unexpiated! However strong you may be, you will learn you are nothing before the pride of—”

[Assistant] "Blah, blah, blah."


[User] "I thought I told you. I don’t give a damn how idealistic you are!" Valga howled again and raised both arms high. He whipped them about.

[Assistant] Wilhelm boldly stepped forward in hopes of reclaiming his sword.

[User] "What a pain in the ass!" Wilhelm shouted. "Everyone wants to drag me into some ridiculous…thing!"

[Assistant] "Everything…that’s mine…is mine!"

[User] "No one but you believes that now! You and I are both—!" Two giant arms and harsh avowals assaulted Wilhelm as he tried to draw closer. The physical strength shattered the floor, the words pierced the Sword Devil as well as the giant.

[Assistant] "Now, your end has come."

[User] Wilhelm had taken a direct hit, unable to avoid the blow. It threw him back against the wall, where he slid to the ground. "Gah… Haah…" His left arm was a wreck, and his mutilated forehead was pouring so much blood into his eyes he could barely see.

[Assistant] The giant made a fist and raised it over his head, taking aim at the now immobile Sword Devil.


[User] Wordlessly, Wilhelm watched the fist float over his head. When it came down, it would crush his body and turn him into nothing more than a bloody lump of flesh. Death itself was before him. Death, which he had visited on so many others. He had no sword. He hadn’t even found the reason he clung to his blade. And now he was going to—

[Assistant] "Meet your end, Sword Devil. Perhaps Libre and I will see you in hell!” The fist came down. The end of Wilhelm’s life came barreling toward him.

[User] “Grimm! Now! !”

[Assistant] “—rrrr!” In that final instant, he heard the voice of a woman, and of a man whose voice was hardly a whisper. The impact shook the entire chapel.

[User] Grimm threw himself between Roswaal and the beam of light an instant before it annihilated her.

[Assistant] “—” He hadn’t been sure he would win or even survive. Until now, neither victory nor survival had influenced Grimm’s life as bad luck had, so what came of his blocking the light with his shield was also a gift of his “bad luck.”

[User] “With a mere shield…” This was not like stopping any normal attack. This was the light that had decimated the castle’s great hall and all but evaporated the royal guards who now lay dead in the corridor. It could pierce armor; it should certainly have been able to do the same to a shield.

[Assistant] “Grimm!” Carol shouted as the attack hit home. She could be cool, but deep down she was kind and pure. Her fragile heart was surrounded by a shell like glass. So although she could appear hard, she was in fact quite delicate. She wanted to support Grimm—even if he, who had relied on her help so much lately, might have thought that was ridiculous. Even so, in the days before this battle, her thoughtfulness had been his salvation.

[User] “—” Grimm felt the grip of his shield heating up under the beam’s assault. It burned as though he had put his hand to a hot soup pot, but he refused to let go. He couldn’t use a sword. He had no voice. He would not relinquish his shield.

[Assistant] “My Al Ziwald. He—?” Across from Grimm, the witch could hardly speak for amazement. Grimm’s shield was catching the beam from her hand, reflecting the all-consuming heat up to the ceiling of the great hall. The heat was the only thing that affected the shield; there was no further damage to it. The shelter had saved Grimm and Roswaal. On the back of the shield was the crest of the House of Remendes, Carol’s family. It was an heirloom Carol had given to Grimm to celebrate his survival. And in doing so, she saved his life.

[User] “—rrr!” The heat burned his hand, and the pain forced a scratchy sound out of his throat. Deflected by Grimm’s defense, the beam destroyed the ceiling and brought down the floor of the room above the great hall.


[User] “Wh-what the—? !” Two humanoid figures fell with the rest of the rubble as the floor suddenly vanished from beneath them. The shout belonged to a badly wounded Bordeaux. He pushed the butt of his battle-ax against the wall to lessen the force of his descent. It allowed him to avoid a fatal impact, even though he still hit the ground hard.

[Assistant] “Hrrgh… Th-the great hall? How did I get here…?” Bordeaux shook his head and looked around in confusion.

[User] This other person was tall and covered in scales—it was without a doubt the serpent Libre Fermi, stood up slowly as though it didn’t feel its wounds.

[Assistant] “I believe this is what they call ‘turning the tide of battle.’” Her magic had been deflected, but as a result, she had gotten reinforcements in the form of her most powerful undead warrior. The witch moved to Libre’s side and thrust out her right arm in front of the silent warrior. She pointed at Grimm, who had fallen to one knee, and at Roswaal, who stood with her fists up.

[User] “You have the numbers, but I have the strength. Libre. This requires your attention. Starting now, you will fight, and I will support you as you—” Sphinx found herself cut off before she could finish giving orders. The reason was a sword blow. And it came from the most unexpected of places—right beside her.

[Assistant] “…Wha?” Her right arm, which had been pointed at Roswaal, went tumbling freely through space. She had never expected to lose her other arm in this way. Now the witch was truly hemorrhaging. She turned toward Libre.

[User] Brandishing the twin blade, the undead Libre Fermi looked at the witch and dropped his weapon. Now they could see he had a gaping, critical wound in his chest, inflicted by a battle-ax. The zombie Libre Fermi had already been defeated by Bordeaux Zergev.

[Assistant] “Impossible…,” Sphinx breathed. “In your last moment, did you fulfill…your final vow…?” No sooner had she spoken than Libre lost what remained of his existence. The slender body crumbled into dust, leaving only its robe, and the flesh was now nothing more than a pile of ashes. The strongest of the demi-human warriors, who had been used and exploited even after his death, was at last well and truly gone.

[User] “Looks like the tide’s turned back, Sphinx,” Roswaal said coldly.

[Assistant] “—!” The witch had now lost both her undead warrior and the arm she had been using to cast her magic. She had no more options, and for the first time, something like panic entered her face. She did the only thing she could still do—she used her levitation magic to float from the great hall toward the corridor to escape.


[User] "We can’t let her—!”

[Assistant] "She has nooo hope of getting away at this point. Leave her to me." Roswaal stopped Carol before she could give pursuit and moved to finish the witch.

[User] Just before she disappeared into the hallway, Roswaal turned. "I thank you, Grimm Fauzen. Without you, I would never have been able to accomplish my mission. I apologize for having made light of you before. And, Carol, I’m sorry to you, too.”

[User] Grimm couldn’t have spoken at that moment even if his vocal cords had been in working order.

[Assistant] "Y-you needn’t apologize to me! J-just deal with that thing!” Carol, for her part, turned red at Roswaal’s jibe.

[User] Roswaal nodded with her usual slightly detached look, then tapped the floor with her fingers. “I can still hear something from downstairs. You two go join our dear Wilhelm. I’ll meet you all later.” Then she sprinted into the corridor after Sphinx.

[Assistant] Behind her, Grimm and Carol nodded at each other and then went over to Bordeaux.

[User] “So Libre and the witch are taken care of?”

[Assistant] “What about Wilhelm? What’s happening with him?”

[User] “He’s in the chapel fighting Valga Cromwell, who was turned into a massive giant by a spell,” Carol told him. “Honestly, I’m not sure he needs our help, but…” She seemed to have complicated feelings about the matter.

[Assistant] She wasn’t being stubborn and refusing to help Wilhelm. Rather, she seemed to be speaking from a genuine knowledge of how powerful the Sword Devil was. But that didn’t change the fact that the two of them didn’t get along. It was possible that her excessive hostility had caused her to misjudge Wilhelm.

[Assistant] “…Hmph. Cheeky punk. But I guess that’s what makes you part of Zergev Squadron.”

[User] Wordlessly, Grimm was holding out a hand to the kneeling Bordeaux.

[Assistant] He smiled broadly, took the proffered hand, and lifted his huge body to its feet. Hefting his battle-ax, he nodded at Carol, who looked at him wide-eyed.

[User] “You’re right. Wilhelm—the Sword Devil—he’s more powerful than any of us. Much as I hate to admit it. But I don’t care. If he says he doesn’t need us, then we get to enjoy the show. But on the off chance he’s bitten off more than even he can chew…”

[Assistant] “Yes? What then?”

[User] “We’ll finally get to lend him a hand. The rest of us owe him more than enough favors!” Then Bordeaux thumped Carol happily on the shoulder and set off for the chapel at a run.

[Assistant] Grimm followed him, smiling at the befuddled young woman.


[User] “Grimm! Now! !”

[Assistant] “—rrrr!” Two figures flung themselves between him and the fist as it came rushing down. The point of a sword found the spaces between the giant fingers, and a shield came up to meet the blow. And, shortly after, a battle-ax arced in and delivered a tremendous strike.

[User] “Hrrrgh!” Bordeaux gave a low groan as the ax connected right below the knuckles of the slowing fist.


[User] “Guh… Ahh!” Valga shouted with pain as the digits broke. He pulled his fist back.

[Assistant] Bordeaux laughed. Baring his teeth madly, the huge man saw Wilhelm crumpled against the wall, and his smile widened. “What’s the matter, Wilhelm? Something wrong? This isn’t like you! Have you given up? Do you think that’s becoming of Captain Killer of the glorious Zergev Squadron? !”

[User] Wilhelm, lying on the ground, didn’t say a word at the mockery, but his hand curled into a fist. He coughed up the blood in his throat and braced himself against the wall, trying to stand. “Keep it…to yourself. And I don’t recall…asking you to save me.”

[Assistant] “Bwa-ha-ha-ha! You never were a gracious loser! Ahh, now I’m glad I didn’t die. I wish Pivot and the others could hear this!” There was no malice in his words.

[User] Wilhelm could find nothing to say.

[Assistant] Valga looked at Bordeaux, Grimm, and Carol and shook his head. “Reinforcements? No…if you lot are here, it must mean Libre and Sphinx are finished.”

[User] “Libre Fermi has turned to ash, and the witch Sphinx will soon find herself in hell, courtesy of Lady Mathers,” Carol said, pointing her sword at the giant. “Valga Cromwell, you are the last of the Demi-human Alliance’s leaders.”

[Assistant] Valga put his bloodied hand to his face, and for several seconds, he was silent. Then a rumble began in his throat. The sound echoed on and on through the air. Unbelievably, it was laughter.

[User] “Why do you laugh? !” Carol demanded.

[Assistant] “You humans understand nothing,” Valga said. “For even now, after all this killing, you fail to grasp our purpose, our principles!” His yell, as loud as an explosion, echoed through the chapel. The wind of his anger shook the basement air. Rage was on Valga’s face. He spread his arms wide and ground his teeth. “It will not stop, this war. Let Libre and Sphinx be dead, and let the lot of you kill me here. It will not extinguish the anger of the demi-humans. The hatred will not fade.”

[User] “Even if we fail in this battle today,” Valga went on, “the demi-humans’ rage will one day burn this kingdom to cinders. As long as you humans refuse to understand my anger, along with that of my fellow demi-humans and all our dead—!”

[Assistant] Confronted with Valga’s furious pronouncements, Carol and Bordeaux fell silent.


[User] Bordeaux and the others had such a broad perspective, they understood how serious this possibility was.

[Assistant] “Don’t you ever shut up?” The interruption came from Wilhelm, who now exuded murder from every pore of his body.

[User] The Sword Devil wiped the blood roughly from his face and, his breath ragged, glared at the giant. “Stake everything on this moment. Who cares about what’ll happen after you die or how this war will go? What you do right here, right now, is everything you are!”

[Assistant] “How simplistic… Indeed, how stupid! Your vision is too narrow! Your thinking is softheaded! You say the fight is all?! Well, you’ve overreached yourself in this battle—what will you do when it’s over?”

[User] “I’ll keep running and killing everything I can. I’ll keep cutting and killing until it’s all over.”

[Assistant] Valga Cromwell found himself at a loss in the face of such a shallow, immature, foolish response. But it wasn’t astonishment that kept him from answering immediately. It was because this was a pronouncement. Wilhelm Trias’s words were as serious as serious could be.

[User] “There’s nothing else,” Wilhelm went on. “I don’t know any other way. So I’ll keep killing.”

[Assistant] There was nothing, had never been anything else Wilhelm could have done. He had been left alive, first by Pivot and his squad mates, and now by Bordeaux and his comrades. If there was to be meaning in having survived, if anyone expected anything of Wilhelm—the only way he knew to answer was by fighting.

[User] Valga gave Wilhelm a tired shake of his head. “…There is no more value in talk. There is no need to speak here. I hardly need to say it.”


[Assistant] “Do you truly believe you can win, human? !” Valga Cromwell, the giant, howled.

[User] “Win, lose, I don’t care,” Wilhelm, the Sword Devil, answered. “Just so long as I get to cut you down.” And then the final battle began.

[Assistant] He twisted to dodge the fingers. He was exhausted, every inch of him wounded. His endurance and strength were near their limits, yet he seemed more agile than when he had been in perfect health. Like a candle that burns brightest before it goes out, everything that was not necessary to his life had been stripped away, and he felt polished, clean. His doubt had been dispelled. He had shrugged off all those invisible weights, and Wilhelm’s heart and body both felt light.


[User] “Ha-ha!” It was a good feeling. A good way of being. His heart and mind were both focused on combat more completely than ever before. Here, on the cusp of life and death, only he and Valga existed. Bordeaux and Grimm, although they had come to the chapel for this fight, showed no sign of intervening. Wilhelm was grateful to know that the purity of his battle would not be tarnished, but he also knew that the battlefield was his and his alone. The fingers tore up the floor, and a hand swiped at him, but he kicked off the wall and jumped to dodge it. The instant he hit the ground, he crouched low and began to run, putting the series of attacks behind him as he closed distance. He put worthless thoughts behind him, too, throwing himself undiluted into a contest of life and death.

[Assistant] “Stand still, you stinking human—!” Valga yelled, unable to take precise aim at his constantly moving enemy. The basement room was sturdily constructed, but already no trace of its former elegance remained. Rebuilding it would no doubt take time and effort. The only part of the room that remained undisturbed was the wall behind Valga, on which was carved the seal of the dragon. It was not only the chapel that had suffered. The battle with Sphinx and the undead Libre would have caused destruction throughout the castle. Wilhelm had wanted to personally repay both of them, and he wasn’t pleased to have had vengeance snatched from him by interlopers. But if Bordeaux and Grimm were both safe, then perhaps he could live with it.

[User] Valga’s voice trembled. “Do you think you have the time to be looking at your friends, you sniveling—”

[Assistant] “I was just making sure they were out of the way. Don’t get all bent out of shape.” Wilhelm eliminated the last impure thing within him. Now, the Sword Devil’s awakening was complete.

[User] “It’s time for you to pay!” he bellowed, spinning to dodge an enraged backhand. The move carried him closer to the giant. The monster’s hand reached out to grab Wilhelm as he drove at the creature’s chest, but the Sword Devil used the huge fingers as stepping-stones to jump closer still. At last, his outstretched hand reached Valga’s lip, grabbed the trapped sword, and made a sideways cut. The Sword Devil landed on the ground amid a rain of blood.

[Assistant] Valga howled in pain and struck out at his enemy. Well aware of the incoming fist, Wilhelm changed his stance and took another swing. The horizontal swipe got under three of the nails on Valga’s right hand. Each fingernail was almost the size of a person’s head. With his sword lodged between the nails and the fingers, Wilhelm pushed, shattering the fingertips and tearing the nails from the hand. Valga could hardly make a sound, his throat constricted with agony, but as his body pitched backward the Sword Devil jumped in.


[User] Holding his sword in a reverse grip, he brought the blade down with all his strength. The blow smashed Valga’s collarbone, piercing into the flesh beneath—and a second later, the sword arrived at the scattered bones. As soon as he felt the sword strike something hard, Wilhelm kicked off Valga’s chin, driving the weapon down with his body weight. The sword acted like a lever, tearing through the flesh, though it was still caught in the bones. “Daaaaaaamnn youuuuuu!”

[Assistant] “Ru—ahhhhhhhhh!” Finally realizing Wilhelm’s intention, Valga brought both hands blindly to his chest, as hard as he could.

[User] Kicked off Valga’s abdomen, flipping completely upside down and executing a spin that finally dislodged the bones.

[Assistant] “Hrrraaghhh!” Without the bones of his ancestors, Valga lost the source of his immense size. Immediately, his strength began to dwindle. The symbol on his chest was still glowing, but the power it was feeding into him was too much for his normal body. He was caught between his weakening flesh and the increasingly powerful magic circle, and his body couldn’t withstand it. “Ah—ahhhhh!” Blood began to spew out from all over his body, and Valga fell to his knees. His thirty-foot-tall body was audibly shrinking. “—” Valga glared at Wilhelm, tears of blood streaming from his eyes.

[User] Whose sword had remained at the ready the entire time, stared unflinchingly back.

[Assistant] Took his hands from his wounds and formed them into fists. “…Victory hinges on this moment now.”

[User] “…Damn right.”

[Assistant] “Have at, human.”

[User] “Come at me, demi-human.”


[User] Valga did not spare even the effort to utter a battle cry; he brought both his arms, as large as trees, down with all his might. The blow shattered the floor and caused not just the chapel but the whole castle to tremble on its foundations. But the blow had not landed on Wilhelm.

[Assistant] “Shhhhhhyaa!” Wilhelm barely dodged Valga’s attack, moving in toward the giant’s feet. His fervent shout was accompanied by a strike of his sword, which cut into Valga’s shins. Wilhelm could feel the resistance as the weapon cleaved flesh and bone, but he was able to wound the weakened body. As he brought the sword back, it sliced up through the femurs.

[User] “Hrrraaaghhh!” The attack came through the thighs, continued through the hips, and then Wilhelm turned to bring his sword across Valga’s abdomen. Finally, he reached the chest and, launching himself through the air, the shoulders, and then the multitude of lacerations exploded with blood. The silver flash devastated the giant’s body and finally hewed at his neck—all in a single, uninterrupted move.

[Assistant] "Remember this, human.” As he struck the ground, Valga spoke quietly to Wilhelm. He made no effort to attend to his plethora of wounds.

[User] The Sword Devil stood with his back to the giant.

[Assistant] “Remember that this will not bring an end to the demi-humans’ rage.” Then his massive body lost all strength, slumping to the ground before falling face-first into the floor. The impact was the last straw for the cracked chapel floor beneath him, as it gave way. The castle basement opened into an even deeper darkness, and Valga’s body was swallowed up by the void.

[User] “…Well, let them come at me, then,” Wilhelm said, stepping up to the edge of the hole and looking into the inky blackness. He was covered in blood. Behind him, on the wall of the chapel, was the kingdom’s crest.

[Assistant] “So long as I have my sword, I’ll fight them. I’ll cut them down until there aren’t any left.”


[User] Two of Roswaal’s metal balls buried themselves in Sphinx’s body, one in the lower abdomen and one right in the back.

[Assistant] “Gah… Haah…” Sphinx groaned at their power and, unable to maintain her altitude, collided with the wall. The witch continued to slide along until she reached the floor, where she was struck by another metal ball.


[User] Bones broke, and blood flowed. "Are you quiiite done trying to fly away?" Roswaal asked the cornered Sphinx, rolling the next steel sphere around in her hand.

[Assistant] Sphinx had left the great hall and flown madly through the castle in an attempt to escape. But without her arms, she couldn’t use her magic, and the dribbling blood left an easy trail to follow. She’d had no hope. Roswaal had calmly attacked her with the metal balls from a distance, tormenting her with them. "Are these…steel balls…your plan for defeating me…?"

[User] "Quiiite something, aren’t they? They started out as a by-product of the thing I’d prepared to kill you with. Unfortunately, my scrawny arms aren’t enough to do you in by themseeeelves. Having said that, I’m just about out of rounds. I think it’s time we finished this." As she approached the witch rolling on the floor, Roswaal loosed the next ball, shattering her bones. Roswaal looked down at the groaning Sphinx and made a fist in preparation to end the witch’s life.

[Assistant] "You are worse…than Valga…it seems… This requires caution…"

[User] "Oh? Are you giving me a warning? How amusing. And what is it I should be cautious of?"

[Assistant] "That the rug isn’t…pulled out from under you." Then she rested her head on the wall. Her pink hair, now drenched in blood, brushed against the stone.

[User] As Roswaal looked at the witch in perplexity, a quiet sound reached her. Then the device hidden in the hallway activated, and Sphinx was whisked away by the spinning floor. "—" Even as the girl disappeared, Roswaal realized this had to be one of the castle’s many hidden passageways—the very ones that allowed the demi-humans entry in the first place. "But it won’t buy you much time." Roswaal carefully scrutinized the place where Sphinx had disappeared and quickly figured out how to activate the device. She did so and dropped into the secret tunnel herself. She landed on her feet and strained to see into the darkness around her.


[Assistant] A faint sound of water suggested that this tunnel was home to one of the underground streams that ran beneath the castle. The only light came from the softly glowing minerals in the walls. The path didn’t offer steady footing, but Roswaal set off following the scent of blood. She could smell it; she was close. But in the middle of the trail, the smell turned to something else unpleasant, and the change inspired an anxiety in Roswaal. She began moving faster and found herself deep within the tunnel.

[User] "Who’s there? Is that you, Lady Mathers?" The man’s hoarse voice brought Roswaal to a stop. Someone emerged from the dimness, someone she thought she had left behind at the castle gate. "I thought so. You came down here to chase that demi-human as well, did you?"

[Assistant] "So we find ourselves set to the same task, I suppose."


[User] Assured of Roswaal’s identity, the knight returned his dagger to its sheath. She didn’t recognize the weapon. Most likely it was a mitia, a magical item capable of tremendous power. Roswaal made no mention of this and looked past Lyp.

[Assistant] “Sphinx, the main force behind the demi-humans, ran this way. Have you seen her?”

[User] “The witch, is it? Well, you can relax. I finished her off.”

[Assistant] Roswaal’s breath caught in her throat at this.

[User] When Lyp saw her reaction, a cruel smile spread over his already mean visage. "I helped mop up the demi-humans who got into the castle. A few of them ran. I followed them here. I never imagined there was a place like this underneath the castle—but regardless, I ran into the armless witch not long ago. I didn’t ask any questions. I just burned her to death.”

[Assistant] “You burned her…? Where is the body?”

[User] “She turned to ash. Don’t ask me how, but this was left over in the cinders.” Lyp dug in his pouch and took out a necklace. It was nothing more than a roughly woven cord with a ring on it, just something to dangle from the neck, but to Roswaal, it had profound importance.

[Assistant] “Perhaps you would be so kiiind as to let me have that?”

[User] “What?”

[Assistant] “It may have magical value. I would dearly like to investigate it.”

[User] Lyp went quiet. But soon after, he flung it at her with a snort. "Take it, I don’t care. But when they pass out the honors, I expect you to testify that I, Lyp Bariel, arrested the flight of the witch Sphinx at the water’s edge, and that it was I who put an end to her.”

[Assistant] “…Yes, of course. I’m in your debt, Lord Lyp.” Roswaal gave no further answer as she stood with the necklace—the ring—clutched firmly in her hand. So long as it was hers, she had no further business here. She was surprised that someone else had killed Sphinx, but if the witch was dead, then it was no problem for her. Everything was going according to plan.

[User] Caressing the ring tenderly, Roswaal J. Mathers murmured, “Master, I’ve finished cleaning up. What comes next is for the future.” It was impossible to see her face clearly in the darkness, but she was smiling with the most serene expression.

[Assistant] Lyp Bariel snorted as he watched Roswaal grow smaller in the distance. "What has she got in mind? That woman gives me the shivers.” Now that she had the ring, Roswaal apparently intended to get out from underground as quickly as possible. That was convenient enough for him, but it didn’t make complete sense. It was as if the ring was all she had ever really wanted.

[User] “Well, who cares? What a she-fox like that wants is nothing to do with me.” What mattered to Lyp was whatever advanced his own ambitions and nothing more.


[User] “But I’ll get it all back. No—I’ll get back more than I lost.” He would do anything to accomplish that goal. Even forsake his loyalty to the kingdom. Lyp was his own kingdom. He was his own world.

[Assistant] Saying nothing further, Lyp turned back. Lying on the ground in the tunnel behind him was a small form wrapped in rags. He picked it up. Without arms, the body was quite light. He had hidden it in these wrappings, and now he was careful to take a different path out of the underground than Roswaal had. This betrayal was the first act of Lyp Bariel’s long-lived ambition.


[User] “Like I have the time to hang around with them…” Stripping off bandages and looking utterly drained from combat, Wilhelm headed for the now-quiet castle town.

[Assistant] “I look like I’m crazy…” Wilhelm hurried through the poor district—so quickly it almost seemed he’d forgotten about his wounds—and arrived at the plaza. He could detect a faint scent of flowers on the breeze blowing through the square, notifying him of the presence of the field.


[User] In the very middle of the plaza, stood the red-haired girl. She had her back to him, at the sight of her, Wilhelm stopped cold. The confused welter of emotions swirling in his heart was at once good and bad. The confidence that she would be there overlapped with astonishment at the same fact. It all turned into a tightness in his chest. At the same time, he felt a kind of melancholic distaste at the thought of their usual exchange. She was safe. That was what he had come to find out. Wilhelm was just considering whether he should turn on his heel and leave without anything further

[Assistant] Theresia noticed he was there, she turned around. Her blue eyes widened slightly in surprise, and then they narrowed. Finally, her lips formed the half circle of a smile. "Wilhelm." She said his name with such familiarity and affection.

[User] It sent a feeling bounding through Wilhelm’s heart that all was right with the world. He completely forgot any notion of turning around and going home. His pulse raced with joy at meeting Theresia, and the warmth and relief spread through his whole chest. "...Ah."

[Assistant] No sooner had he realized what he was really feeling than his heart, with no warning at all, trembled. It was a moment of sudden and totally unexpected self-awareness. Wilhelm understood that Theresia’s smile brought him a feeling of well-being. He had a feeling of accomplishment at having protected her smile, her person, their time together. Thanks to Theresia, standing there with her back to the flowers, he felt something that made him think there might be a greater joy than felling an opponent with his sword and proving his own swordsmanship superior. The instant this realization struck him was accompanied by a torrent of emotion, a flood Wilhelm thought he had long ago left behind. Caught up in its force, Wilhelm put his hands to his face. "—" The insides of his eyelids grew hot, and his nose prickled. He suddenly felt his throat go dry, and his head felt heavy, as if his blood was pumping too fast. There and then, his soul shook; he thought it might drive him to his knees. A light that Wilhelm had almost forgotten filled his mind. No—he hadn’t forgotten it. It had always been in his heart, never fading. He had never forgotten its beauty. What he had forgotten was what used to draw him to that light. He remembered the first day he had taken up a sword, pointing it to the sky. If he had the light, if it was real and could be real—with that power, he could protect everything. That was what he had believed. That day, a powerless young man had picked up a blade for the first time. That day, he had wished for something.

[User] "Wilhelm…" As Wilhelm stood with his hands to his face, consumed by emotion, Theresia’s voice reached him.


[User] How absurd must he have looked to the girl standing in front of him? He was embarrassed, something he hadn’t been for a long time. He was so ashamed, it made him tremble. He wanted to run away immediately. And yet his feet didn’t move.

[Assistant] "—" Time passed as both of them stood silently.

[User] Theresia, reaching out and gently touching the hands Wilhelm had placed over his face.

[Assistant] His breath caught at the heat of her thin fingers.

[User] "Do you like flowers?"

[Assistant] “…I don’t…hate them.”

[User] "Why do you wield your sword?"

[Assistant] “Because it was…the only way I had of protecting people.”


[User] Wilhelm removed his hands from his face and took Theresia’s outstretched hand.

[Assistant] A small “Oh” escaped her, but she didn’t draw back.

[User] Wilhelm and Theresia look at each other.

[Assistant] Theresia smiled gently at Wilhelm.

[User] Wilhelm felt his heart pound. Wilhelm gave Theresia a completely heartfelt smile.


[User] The uprisings that had shaken all of Lugunica subsided as suddenly as they had begun. The reason for their end was the deaths of the three main leaders of the demi-human peoples—their strongest warrior, Libre Fermi; their strategist, Valga Cromwell; and the witch, Sphinx. The three of them had been killed in battle by the humans. The resistance had failed.

[Assistant] With the Demi-human Alliance thus losing its main support, it was widely believed that the civil war itself would soon show signs of ending. However, contrary to that expectation, demi-human resistance throughout the land grew more and more fevered.

[User] It was, as Valga had said in his last moments, the inferno of their hatred, which was not to be easily extinguished. And so the humans began to understand. Despite the loss of their leading lights, it was natural that the Demi-human Alliance should continue to fight.

[Assistant] However terrible the humans believed the demi-humans’ unchecked hatred was, they had never yet truly faced their enemies’ anger. This was the beginning of the final stage of the Demi-human War, the civil conflict that rocked the kingdom. It was, too, the story of the meeting and parting of the Sword Devil and the Sword Saint.


[Assistant] It was weeks before his wounds had healed enough that he could go back to the plaza. He had been in one brutal battle after another, but now he walked down the familiar path with his battered but still beloved sword in his hand. Every time he walked this street, Wilhelm always felt a mix of emotions. There was happiness and eagerness, depression and anxiety, frustration and even envy. But what he felt right now was not any of these. It was the sure intuition that she would be there. Wilhelm trusted his hunches. Especially when it came to whether or not she would be waiting to meet him in the square. There was no need to put into words at this point what it was that made this intuition so certain.

[User] "—" Wilhelm reached the plaza and sucked in his breath. He didn’t have to look for her. Her presence was overwhelming. She was sitting on the steps right where she always was, her eyes playing over the flowers, which had now started to wither. He didn’t do anything as foolish as walking toward her. Instead he ran, drawing his sword soundlessly as he went.


[User] He brought the blade down with fearsome speed, striking like a thunderbolt to cleave her head in two…

[Assistant] "That’s humiliating.”

[User] “…Oh?” Her earnest admission was met by only the briefest of replies.

[Assistant] He had attacked with all his might, and she had simply caught the blade between two fingers. Without even turning around, she negated all the months and years he had spent honing his sword technique. "Were you laughing at me?”

[User] “—” She didn’t respond.

[Assistant] The silence hurt Wilhelm more than anything else. Even now, nothing about her willowy body suggested she was an exponent of the martial arts. "Answer me, Theresia… Or should I say, Sword Saint Theresia van Astrea…!” He wrenched his sword back from her with sheer force, then struck again.

[User] She dodged him without so much as a hair falling out of place. He found himself distracted by the sight of her flowing red locks, and before he knew it, his feet had been swept out from under him to send him toppling to the ground.

[Assistant] Wilhelm, once feared as the Sword Devil, hit the pavement without even managing to catch himself. “—”

[User] He had met this girl so many times, bantered with her, grown closer to her without anybody knowing—and now she had knocked him down.

[Assistant] Theresia looked at him where he lay. Her eyes were a piercing blue reflection of a sky that had never known clouds.

[User] "Y-yaaaahhh!” Wilhelm scrambled to his feet for another attack as if chasing after her retreating form. His strike was so strong and so true that one would never have believed it came from a convalescent. His battle aura was even stronger than it had been when he had earned the name of Sword Devil, when he had felled Valga and gone toe-to-toe with Libre. His sword technique was so polished and pure that it seemed he had thrown away everything else he had once been. In this place, the secret plaza that only they knew, the Sword Devil brought to bear every ounce of his skill. It was, without a doubt, the greatest and ultimate demonstration of Wilhelm’s life as a swordsman. “—”

[Assistant] Theresia, without so much as a sword in her hand, avoided it as if Wilhelm were merely a little boy. A light, dancing step revealed the size of the gulf between them. An impassable wall, an unbridgeable gap, an uncrossable chasm. They were utterly remote from one another. The divide was all too clear to both of them. Theresia looked down at Wilhelm, who lay on the ground. "I won’t come here again,” she said, her quiet good-bye.

[User] She was holding Wilhelm’s sword in her hand. When had she gotten it? The Sword Saint had stolen the Sword Devil’s weapon, and he had been ignominiously sent to the ground not by the blade, but by a blow from the hilt. She was so far ahead, and he was so weak. He would never reach her. He wasn’t enough.


[User] “You shouldn’t…be using a sword…with that expression.” He said.

[Assistant] There was a limit to shamelessness. Whose fault was it? Whose powerlessness had led her to this? If he were stronger, if he had had an exceptional talent for the sword, she wouldn’t have looked like this now.

[User] “I’m the Sword Saint. I never knew why before. But now I do.”

[Assistant] It was at once an answer and not an answer. It was Theresia’s obscure signal that she wanted something from Wilhelm. When she really wanted him to listen, she never said so directly. She could be difficult that way.

[User] “What you mean, why? !”

[Assistant] “Wielding the sword to protect someone. I think that’s a good reason.”

[User] The exchange was like what they had once said every time they met, though there was no longer any need for those questions and answers. The Sword Saint had preferred her flowers, unable to see the meaning in using the sword. Wilhelm’s sin had been to give Theresia van Astrea a reason to wield her blade. He had given a reason to the woman who was stronger than any other, could take the sword further than anyone else.

[Assistant] “Wait…Theresia…”

[User] She was already leaving; she felt there were no more words to speak.

[Assistant] Wilhelm couldn’t move his limbs. He could hardly raise his head. Yet, driven by his frustration at Theresia and his anger at himself, Wilhelm managed to look up, his own blue eyes focused firmly on her back, since she refused to turn around.

[User] “I’ll steal that sword from you. What do I care about your blessing or your station…? Don’t make light of wielding it…of the beauty of a steel blade, Sword Saint!”

[Assistant] She kept growing more distant, until he could no longer see her.

[User] Had his last words reached her? They must have. He must have made them reach her. To speak of the beauty of steel to the one who was beloved of the sword-god was the Sword Devil’s pathetic challenge to battle.


[User] How diligently must he have worked to reach that point? “If I am not to wield the sword…then who?”

[Assistant] “I will inherit your reason for bearing the sword. You will become why I do so.” How many hundreds, how many thousands or ten thousands, how many countless setbacks and failures must that swordsman have endured? How many battles must he have fought to earn that claim?

[User] The young man who appeared had a serious countenance, but his hair was unkempt, his face covered in mud, and his eyes were stern. “You’re terrible. Putting a person’s decisions and resolution all to waste…”

[Assistant] “All these things that you think I’m putting to waste, I will take up from you. As for you, forget that you ever held the sword, and live a life of peace. You could… Ah, yes. Perhaps you could grow some flowers. But only in peace, under my protection.”

[User] “Protected by your sword?”

[Assistant] “That’s right.”

[User] “And you would be so kind as to protect me?”

[Assistant] “I would.” His declaration was without compromise or hesitation. He would not be moved, even if the sword god himself stood against him. His resolution had pulled this lovely young woman from the throne of the Sword Saint through nothing but his own strength.

[User] — Wordlessly, Theresia placed a hand on the flat of the outstretched blade and took a step forward. They were close enough to touch, to feel each other’s breath. Theresia’s eyes welled from emotion, and she began to smile and cry at the same time. And then, through her smile and her tears, she said what she always did at their meetings. “Do you like flowers?”

[Assistant] “I’ve learned I don’t hate them.” Because you’re there with them. Because that field of flowers is where I met you. Because they are the world you love, the beauty you wish for.

[User] “Why do you wield your sword?”

[Assistant] “To protect you.” And because you are the seed of my world. Slowly, they drew closer to each other, the distance between them shrinking until it was nothing at all. They could feel the fire of each other, and the heat of their kiss was enough to melt solid steel. The first question she asked him when their lips parted made him so intensely shy that he could barely answer.

[User] “Do you love me?”

[Assistant] “Can’t you tell?”


[User] “—” Grimm had found his way to her side. He, too, was watching the embrace, squinting as if staring at a bright light. Suddenly, a memory came to Carol. A conversation the two of them had back before Grimm had lost his voice. Somehow the subject of that man had come up, and Carol had been criticizing him fiercely. “Hmph. A nickname like ‘the Sword Devil’ is dishonorable for a swordsman. If he can be confused for a demon, it means there’s something twisted about the way he lives!”

[Assistant] Grimm laughed. “You’re certainly merciless, Carol. I guess I can’t deny what you’re saying. But…”

[User] “But what?” She looked at Grimm questioningly.

[Assistant] “It’s possible that the first person to call Wilhelm the Sword Devil was me. When I saw how he fought the demi-humans at Castour Field, I was so terrified by it that that was what I called him.” His reply came with a pained smile but with real confidence.

[User] “What’s wrong with that? It certainly describes the way he acts on the battlefield…”

[Assistant] “True, he does look like a devil when he fights. I agree that fits. But…” He scratched his cheek. “He’s a swordsman who fight like a demon, so we call him the Sword Devil. But I think we may just be stating the obvious.”

[User] “What do you mean by that?”

[Assistant] “Maybe when you’ve really committed yourself to something, there are times when you have to become a demon… Maybe Wilhelm looks like one to us just because he’s so single-minded. I don’t know anyone else who looks so terrible when they fight. I don’t know anyone else who’s so serious about the way he lives.” His voice was quiet but impassioned.

[User] Carol found herself feeling jealous.

[Assistant] “Maybe ‘Sword Devil’ really is the right name for him. Wilhelm is absolutely dedicated to the sword, completely serious about how he lives, and that’s why we call him that. And I’m sure it’s because—”


[User] “Sword Devil!! Sword Devil Wilhelm Trias! !” Even as Theresia asked for his heart, even as he looked away from her, someone called his name, a name he hadn’t heard in what seemed like a very long time.

[Assistant] Wilhelm turned around.

[User] “Wilhelm, you great, raging idiot!”

[Assistant] “—rrr!” Among the soldiers who came rushing toward him, he saw a familiar hulking shape and young man, and his shoulders relaxed. He wasn’t going to resist. But the thought of what would come next made him profoundly tired.


[User] So much so that he considered simply absconding with Theresia and disappearing into the distance.

[Assistant] “Listen, you!” As he was considering the possibility, Theresia had puffed out her cheeks, still holding on to him. She was a woman who threw herself into whatever she did, be it laughing, or shouting, or pouting, and still very much the same person who had charmed him in that field of flowers. “There are some things a person wants to hear you say out loud!”

[User] “Ahh,” Wilhelm groaned, realizing that she was still trying to continue the conversation from earlier. He was profoundly embarrassed to have to put his true feelings into words. Even if one might question how he could remain so reticent after having just shared a kiss in front of the entire audience hall. “—” After a second, he shook his head. He couldn’t refuse her direct request. Wilhelm took a deep breath and turned back to Theresia, leaning in toward her ear. Her face turned red, her eyes expectant.

[Assistant] He caught his breath at her loveliness, and the words stuck in his throat. Finally he said, “I’ll tell you sometime, when the mood takes me.” It was the first time in his life the Sword Devil had ever been taken by cowardice.


[User] A stomach-turning bloody stench hung over the battlefield. What had once been an open basin several hours before was now spotted with tongues of flame, the pop and crack of burning trees mingling with human cries. The odors of charred wood and flesh filled the air, along with the smell of the layer of gore on the ground that was thick enough to dirty one’s boots. Together, they were enough to clog the nose and overwhelm the senses. The twilight and the flames and the blood underfoot conspired to turn the whole world red.

[Assistant] "Hrr…kk…" Grimm fell to his knees, no longer able to drag his quivering feet forward. Blood soaked his knees and shins.

[User] This is awful. How could it possibly get any worse?

[Assistant] Grimm had taken up the sword of his own volition. He had intended to make his name in battle, to rise from a nameless foot soldier to the heights of glory. Night after night, he had dreamed of the deeds he would do. How naive. His thinking, his dreams—all of it. The customs of the battlefield were these: blood, wounds, agony, hatred, violence, and corpses.

[User] The brutality of this, his first battle, was unmatched by any other in the kingdom’s history, even in these years of civil war. The commander had been a young noble who had launched himself against the enemy forces in hopes of buying a little glory, but he had been destroyed, and the battle line had fallen into disarray. In the blink of an eye, friend and foe were crowded together, and then Grimm had been hurled away by a burst of magic and lost consciousness.

[Assistant] After all these unhappy accidents, Grimm was alone on the field, dragging himself through the nearly palpable cloud of death.

[User] "—" He opened his mouth voicelessly. He noticed at last how heavy his body was, and the wounds on his feet were asserting themselves more and more painfully. The explosions had come from overhead, landing just in front of Grimm and flinging him through the air. He had been lucky to get away with only some burns and the wounds to his feet. How lucky? Everyone else in his squadron had been turned to ash. Their commander, who had been standing next to Grimm, had also been the only actual knight among them. Their leader’s exhortation before the fight started was fresh in Grimm’s memory. So was the genuine respect he had felt for the man. But even he could easily be lost to the flames of war.