"I'll do it."
The voice wasn't from the Elven King—it came from Alison, standing beside Orsaga.
"Hmm?"
"You want to do it yourself?"
Orsaga turned to look at her, interest sparking in his eyes.
"Yes, I'll handle it."
Her expression was firm. "Since this all started because of my request, then it should end by my hand as well."
She hadn't been certain why this plane had been invaded by Abyssal Demons—but the moment she saw those demons, she recognized them.
They were the dozen or so demons Orsaga had once spared in the depths of the Abyss.
At the time, she had wondered why he'd shown mercy.
Looking back now, it was clear—they had been pawns from the very start. Their fate had been sealed long ago, and their deaths couldn't have been more pathetic.
Orsaga met her gaze for a moment. Then, after a brief pause, he handed her the map. "Alright then. Just be careful."
Letting a good person carry out the extermination of an entire race—somehow, it didn't seem like such a bad idea.
If Alison couldn't go through with it, Orsaga wouldn't interfere.
He had already laid out the path.
Based on his projections, if the surviving natives were allowed to repopulate, it wouldn't take more than three hundred years for their numbers to reach tens of millions.
After all, while the surface had just endured a mass extinction event, most plant life had survived.
And with large-scale machinery scattered everywhere, once reactivated, productivity would be more than sufficient. There would be no lack of food or clothing.
At first, the abundance of resources might keep them from clashing with the elves.
But once their numbers reached a certain point, conflict would be inevitable.
When that time came, there'd be no shortage of bloodshed.
Taking the map from Orsaga, Alison didn't say much.
She took a portion of the rune imprint from the Elven King and embedded it into her own soul, gaining recognition from the plane's will.
The suppressive force of the plane vanished in an instant.
Her full strength returned.
Then, with the help of her spatial gear, she vanished on the spot.
Watching her disappear, Golariel's eyes flashed with concern.
Over a thousand years of friendship had taught her exactly what kind of person Alison was.
Asking her to slaughter a group of innocents—this went far beyond her emotional threshold.
Orsaga, however, wrapped an arm around Golariel's waist and said cheerfully:
"No need to worry~ I think this is a good thing. After all, for a pure-hearted good person to survive in this world... that's no easy task. And those natives make excellent sacrifices to temper Alison's personality."
He had devoured countless souls and, through them, gained just as many memories—experiencing innumerable lives.
In a way, he could be called a sociologist.
One with firsthand experience.
He knew very well, statistically, who fared better in the world: the good or the ruthless.
If Alison could use this event to adjust her mindset, that would be an unexpected bonus.
Golariel didn't respond to his comfort—she only sighed.
She knew better than anyone that Orsaga didn't care about the lives of others, unless they were people he was personally close to.
That Alison could hold a place in his thoughts and even receive his goodwill—that alone was rare.
As for the natives of this planet, to him, they were no different than ants on a bench—swept aside without a second thought.
He never truly regarded them as people.
Their fear, hatred, or desire for revenge—none of it mattered.
As for the other elves of the Elsella Kingdom, in his eyes, they weren't much better.
Orsaga's decision to help them had nothing to do with them personally—it was entirely for Alison and Golariel's sake.
___
Alison gazed at the barren mountain peak in the distance.
Through the surrounding plants, she could sense the concealed underground facility beneath it.
The life signatures marked on the map confirmed it.
She raised her hand, and a magnificent longbow appeared in her grip.
This was the gift bestowed upon her by her ancestor, when she advanced to the Rank of Demigod.
It had been crafted by a master blacksmith and enchanted by a national-level enchanter, using countless rare materials.
Even greater-Rank Demons couldn't ignore the arrows it fired.
(Of course, Orsaga didn't count—he was basically cheating.)
Her slender fingers drew the bowstring taut, forming a long, narrow arrow of energy.
Without hesitation, she released it.
Like a comet, the arrow pierced straight through the mountain's dense bedrock and struck the hidden base inside.
Boom!
In a brilliant flash, all life within the facility was instantly annihilated—without pain, without a sound.
The mountain, once towering, began to collapse—burying all traces of what had been within.
Compared to Orsaga, she might not have been the strongest.
But to mortals, Alison's power was no different from a natural disaster.
Leveling cities, obliterating armies—such things took no effort at all.
"…"
She stared at the collapsing peak in silence.
Then, she spoke calmly, "Come out. I know you're there."
A brief silence.
Then, more than a dozen adult Elyuans slowly stepped out from the woods behind her.
Seeing Alison's silhouette, the man at the front fought back his hatred and asked bitterly, "Why are you destroying us? Are you from the same place as those monsters?"
Alison's elegant face didn't show a flicker of emotion.
Her voice was calm. "Roughly, yes—we come from the same place. As for why you must be destroyed… it's because your continued existence would pose a threat. You would bring trouble to my people. So I have to erase you."
Orsaga hadn't spelled everything out, but Alison could still understand the implications.
The man didn't quite grasp the deeper meaning of her words.
But he understood clearly enough that she meant to wipe them all out.
Instinctively, he reached for the weapon at his waist, intending to make one final, desperate stand.
But his hand hesitated at the hilt.
He knew just how vast the gap in strength was between them.
No amount of courage could make up for that.
Those terrifying monsters had already proven, time and again, that bullets, bombs—even nuclear warheads and laser weapons—were nothing more than children's toys to them.
After a long moment of inner turmoil, he dropped to his knees with a thud.
Tears streaming down his face, he pleaded, "Please... spare us. We're willing to serve you as slaves for all eternity."
The others knelt in turn, one after another.
Tears rolled down their cheeks as they begged for a chance to live.
In those tears were defiance, hatred, despair, and hope—the full spectrum of sentient emotion.
"…"
Alison's calm expression wavered, just slightly.
"…I'm sorry…"
In the midst of their desperate gazes, her bow began to shine with a moonlike radiance.
Two shimmering blades of light shot out.
One struck the kneeling survivors.
The other targeted the spot they had emerged from—where a group of children were hiding.
No pain.
No resistance.
In an instant, all of them were gone.
"Hatred will persist. Conflicts of interest will arise. Only this way… can my people be truly safe…"
She whispered to herself, tears slipping down her cheek.
___
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