"Magic Arrow!"
As Ninya cried out the chant for Magic Arrow, a streak of light shot from the tip of her staff.
The glowing arrow buried itself in the gut of a goblin, staggering the creature—
and in that instant, Peter's blade swept through and finished it.
Even amid this unnatural disaster, their seamless coordination remained intact.
"Looks like we're safe… for a little while at least."
Giving a brief glance to the fallen goblin corpse, Lukrut exhaled shallowly.
The unprecedented calamity that struck the Trob Forest—
because of it, monsters like goblins had spilled out of the woods.
But perhaps due to their panic and haste to escape, many appeared to be alone rather than in groups.
And a panicked, isolated monster was easy prey for Swords of Darkness.
The danger was still very real—
but compared to Momon's burden, it was nothing.
"W–Whoa—!"
The ground trembled.
The air crackled.
The earth beneath Ninya's feet shook violently.
Not once or twice—
but over and over, intermittently.
The earthquakes had started the moment they arrived in Carne Village—
and showed no sign of stopping.
"Momon-san…"
Sweat poured endlessly from the hand gripping her staff.
Droplets clung to her forehead like pearls, her robe damp and heavy.
A foul taste rose from deep behind her molars.
Her heartbeat was irregular, jittery—
reflecting the turmoil in her chest.
She prayed to a god she didn't believe in.
"Believe."
A hand like solid rock settled on her shoulder.
She turned—
and found Dyne, face solemn.
Though usually steady as a boulder, even his hand trembled despite his words.
"That's right. I'm sure Momon-san will… he will succeed."
Peter's voice—
was it conviction?
Or desperate hope?
Ninya couldn't tell.
But seeing Peter's pale face, she understood—
they all felt the same fear.
The magical tree's roars reached even the Carne Village storehouse.
Once more, a particularly powerful one rattled the homes,
a bone-deep, horrifying bellow that chilled the soul.
From the warehouse where villagers sheltered, screams erupted.
They hadn't told the villagers that a world-ending magical tree had revived—
that would cause chaos—
but even so, anyone could sense the danger.
A suffocating tension hung over the entire village.
"…Hey. Are we really doing the right thing?"
Lukrut muttered, still staring at the forest.
The cheerful tone he normally carried was gone.
His voice was thick and heavy,
like a man confessing sin.
"What do you mean?"
"Leaving Momon-chan behind. Was that really… right?"
"Lukrut, we already talked about this."
Peter's tone snapped sharply, shutting him down.
A leader's command—firm, decisive.
But Lukrut didn't stop.
"Yeah… I know. At the time, all of us believed protecting Carne Village was our duty.
I still think so.
But back then…
didn't part of us feel relieved when Momon-chan told us to go?"
His voice grew small.
"Didn't we… just for a moment…
feel glad that she would hold off that monster…
so we could run?"
"Lukrut…"
"Damn it… it pisses me off.
I'm supposed to be an adventurer,
yet I can't do anything when it matters."
His hand trembled around his bow.
A drop of blood slid down from his bitten lip.
No one could speak to him.
They all felt the same way.
"…That is not so, Lukrut."
The one who broke the silence was Dyne.
He slowly shook his head, speaking gently—almost fatherly.
"Lukrut, we are like moles that crawl in the dirt,
lamenting that we lack the wings of a great eagle soaring the skies."
"Dyne…"
"A mole cannot become an eagle.
But an eagle cannot become a mole, either.
The weak know terrors the strong never will.
And so—
there must be things only moles can do."
Peter frowned, troubled.
"Things we can do… that Momon-san cannot?"
"There are."
Dyne answered instantly.
No hesitation.
He looked over his team, Swords of Darkness.
"There is one duty that only we—
no one else in this world—can fulfill.
Not even Momon herself."
"…What is it?"
Ninya couldn't help but ask.
Dyne nodded solemnly.
"We saw it.
With our ordinary senses,
our mundane eyes—
we witnessed Zy'tl Q'ae."
His voice dropped to a quiet, reverent tone.
"The magical tree said to end the world.
And the hero Momon, who stood against it alone.
We four—
we alone saw their battle with our own eyes."
Yes—
across this wide world,
only these four had witnessed Momon's confrontation with Zy'tl Q'ae.
Their rarity—
their responsibility—
Dyne understood it well.
"We must speak of it.
The valor of the warrior who felled that monster.
And how all peaceful days to come…
exist because the legend of Momon continues."
It wasn't a metaphor.
It was truth.
A truth surpassing myth.
Dyne clenched his fist tighter.
"It is our duty, our burden,
and our pride—
to serve as the living witnesses to the legend of the hero Momon."
Something Momon herself would never boast of,
nor speak of,
nor allow to vanish into obscurity.
But Swords of Darkness would not allow that legend to fade.
If Momon would not proclaim it—
then they must.
With this new purpose, the Swords of Darkness silently swore:
We will survive.
We will return to E-Rantel.
We will tell the world.
—
And then, a deafening explosion tore through the Trob Forest.
The sky turned red in a flash.
The Swords of Darkness realized, a heartbeat later—
that the rampage of the Magic-Sealing Crystal had begun.
Never before had they heard such a blast—
as if the world itself had ruptured.
A primal, terrifying sound.
Silence fell.
The earlier earthquakes stopped abruptly.
Only a gentle breeze stirred the air.
Ninya swallowed loudly.
"…I-It's… over…?"
A full minute passed before she could manage the words.
Over.
What that meant—
none of them knew.
Was Zy'tl Q'ae truly defeated?
Was it dead?
Or barely alive?
Most of all—
had Momon survived?
No one could endure such a blast unscathed.
All of them swallowed hard.
The sound of their throats clicking seemed deafening in the still air.
"What do we… do?"
Lukrut's question didn't need explanation.
Everyone understood.
Do they wait here—
or do they go look for Momon?
Ninya spoke first.
"…We should wait."
"But Momon-san—!"
"Momon-san…
promised.
She promised she would come back alive.
So I'll wait.
I'll believe in her return."
Her voice shook—
but her eyes showed unwavering conviction.
Momon told them to protect this place until she returned.
Abandoning that would be wrong.
No one objected.
Momon must be alive.
So they readied their weapons—
and quietly waited for any monsters that might emerge from the forest.
Two hours passed.
Just as Lukrut was about to lose patience—
A lone warrior silhouette appeared from the Trob Forest.
"A—Ah… ah…!"
Huge tears spilled from Ninya's eyes.
Peter, Lukrut, and Dyne were crying too—
but smiling through their tears.
The Swords of Darkness shouted in joy
and sprinted toward the warrior.
—The Dark Warrior Momon.
Her armor was severely damaged.
Her right shoulder was almost bare,
and her left thigh was deeply exposed.
Her helmet was cracked along the left side,
revealing one jade-green eye.
The greatsword and kite shield on her back were melted and charred—
Silent testimony more eloquent than any words
to the ferocity of her battle.
"…I'm home."
Momon gave a tired smile and whispered softly.
The corners of her visible eye softened gently.
There was a place she could say "I'm home" to.
There were people who would say "Welcome back."
Even if she was a monster—
even if these bonds were shallow—
the simple act of exchanging those words filled Momon—
Momon-ga—
with a quiet, precious happiness.
A pair of eyelids opened.
Tsaindorcus Vaision—
the Platinum Dragon Lord.
From a state that could not quite be called sleep nor wakefulness,
he rose into awareness.
His shining silver body rippled with faint light.
The strongest Dragon Lord in this world evaluated the wave of power he had sensed.
A pressure that stabbed the skin.
A presence impossibly distant,
yet disturbingly close.
He knew this sensation.
(A World-Class Item was used…
No—something similar, but slightly different.
What is this…?)
As he prepared to dive deeper into thought—
he noticed someone below.
An elderly woman in a robe,
standing at the foot of his massive form.
To a dragon lord, "in front" was a relative distance, but her presence was unmistakable.
Meeting his gaze, she smiled wryly.
"Oh my, you noticed at last, Tsa."
"…It has been a while, Rigrit."
With a cracked old voice, Rigrit chuckled.
Tsa smiled faintly at her familiar demeanor.
"After all these years, I come to visit you,
and what do I find?
You snoring away in your nest."
"My apologies.
But truly—you came at the perfect time."
"Perfect time?"
"I sensed a tremendous power just now."
"…What? That means—"
"—The hundred-year backlash."
Rigrit frowned deeply.
"So it's that time again…
Then tell me, will the world cooperate this time?"
Tsa hesitated briefly, then shook his head.
"No… I can't say yet.
But either a World-Class Item—
or something extremely similar—
has been used.
In the remote regions of the Re-Estize Kingdom, if I'm judging the direction right.
It is almost certainly a Player's doing…
though I cannot rule out the Theocracy."
"And what will you do?
You wouldn't ignore a force you deem a threat."
"I have no choice but to move.
For now, I'll send my vision out into the world."
"That toy lying over there?"
Rigrit smirked.
Her gaze shifted to a suit of empty platinum armor resting nearby.
"Still angry about that?"
"Who knows."
Rigrit gave a mischievous smile—
a gesture unchanged since the old days,
stirring faint nostalgia in Tsa's eyes.
"So, what about the incident in the Kingdom?
That girl—
the Blue Rose—
should be there, yes?"
"Blue Rose…
Ah, yes, the team you once belonged to.
But why is she—?"
"I retired and forced the responsibility onto that girl.
That crybaby kept whining, so I beat her in a duel and told her to do as I say."
Tsa sighed, the draconic version of a shrug.
"I see…
Well, I need allies, but for now, I'll act alone.
Stimulating a Player recklessly would be disastrous.
Against a Player, information must be restricted.
More importantly… there's something I need from you, too."
"From me?"
"I need you to gather information on items equal to Guild Weapons,
or special Yggdrasil artifacts.
Secretly—
without alerting any players or organizations."
"…I see.
A task only I can do."
"…I'm counting on you, Rigrit."
Tsa closed his eyes again.
At the same moment,
a faint glow radiated from the platinum armor in the corner.
It began moving on its own.
Rigrit narrowed her eyes fondly.
—The Arbiter of the World had begun to move once more.