"They're there… no mistake."
Gazef narrowed his eyes at the figures outside: robed magic casters accompanied by floating angels.
Momonga frowned.
"Who are they?"
"Only one nation could field this many casters—the Slane Theocracy. Most likely one of the Six Scriptures."
"The ones who disguised themselves as Imperial knights?"
"Indeed. Their armor was merely a false flag."
"But why target this village?"
"To the Theocracy, you—a non-human—are an enemy of mankind. But since you only arrived recently, their true target is…"
Momonga finished the thought.
"…You, Warrior Captain."
Gazef nodded grimly.
The villagers had warned her:
The Slane Theocracy despised non-humans. They hunted them relentlessly in the name of protecting humanity.
The worst possible group to encounter.
"And why would humanity's protectors want to kill you?"
"Nation-to-nation politics are more tangled than any of us wish. But if the Theocracy has come for me… then this is quite troublesome."
Momonga's attention drifted toward the angels.
Archangel Flame—a monster straight out of Yggdrasil.
(Why does this world have the same monsters…?)
Her thought was cut short as Gazef addressed her directly.
"Albedo… I know you are far stronger than I. So I ask a selfish favor: if this village is attacked, protect it once more. I have nothing to offer you now—but please."
Before he could bow again, Momonga placed a hand on his shoulder.
"No need for that. I will protect them."
Relief washed over his face.
"Then I need not hold back. I will fight without hesitation."
"…You will not ask me to fight beside you?"
"For two reasons. First, I will not endanger a woman—especially one so… gentle and fair."
He coughed, embarrassed. Momonga raised a brow.
"And the second?"
"If the Theocracy discovers the Warrior Captain of the Kingdom fighting alongside a non-human… both my king and you would be branded enemies of mankind."
A heavy truth.
Momonga nodded.
"Then—may I see your sword?"
"Eh? Ah—of course."
He handed it over. Momonga drew it, inspected it—
—and froze.
(…This is… garbage. This man is the Warrior Captain? Why is his equipment so terrible?)
The blade was a plain chunk of steel, barely enchanted—no, not enchanted at all.
Absolutely unacceptable.
Momonga thrust her hand into the air—into her invisible item inventory—and withdrew a sword of gleaming blue crystal metal.
Gazef stared.
"W–Where did that come from…?"
"Undying Flame."
Ignoring him, Momonga traced her fingers along the blade, weaving magic into it.
Blue-white fire pulsed through the crystal like living light.
Archangel Flame resisted physical damage; enchanted weapons were needed.
Momonga tested the balance, nodded, and pushed the sheathed blade toward him.
"Take this."
"Albedo… this is…!"
"You'll need it. That weapon will let you fight them properly."
"…'A bit better,' you say…"
Gazef could tell instantly—
This blade was a national treasure. One equal to the Five Treasures of the kingdom.
Yet Momonga treated it like nothing special.
(What… is she…?)
He couldn't fathom the depth of her power.
In truth, it was merely a high-tier spare item she didn't care about.
"Take it," she urged.
"…Very well. I swear I will return it."
"You don't need to. But… come back alive."
She then handed him another item—a simple wooden doll.
Gazef didn't know what it did, but he accepted it reverently.
He stood straighter.
"Then—I go."
"May fortune be with you."
He departed.
Silence filled the room.
Momonga inhaled slowly, exhaling the tension.
Gazef's lingering scent filled the air—sweat, metal, dust.
A warrior's scent. A man who had ridden from village to village, burying the dead, racing to save the next.
She could never laugh at such a smell.
"Helping those in need is natural," he'd said.
He lived those words—even if it meant arriving too late.
Even if it meant risking his life.
Even if it meant staining himself with blood and sorrow.
Momonga admired him deeply.
Not as a warrior, but as a person.
(…Compared to him, I'm nothing. I saved this village because it was safe for me to do so. That's all.)
Even now, she could help Gazef fight if she wished.
Her power would make it trivial.
But the risk—unknown enemies, a human nation—
She chose safety.
She chose to stay back.
A coward by comparison.
Yet Gazef…
Gazef was a true hero.
The kind of man Touch Me would have admired.
"…Do your best, Warrior Captain."
With Remote Viewing magic, Momonga watched him ride toward battle—
and clenched her small hand into a tight fist.