"Just… what in the world happened here…?"
—Deep within the Trob Forest.
At the site of Zy'tl Q'ae's resurrection, thirteen men and women stood frozen in shock.
They belonged to one of the Six Scriptures of the Slane Theocracy—
the Black Scripture.
Each member possessed power on par with a hero.
The strongest special forces unit, clad in powerful equipment—
and yet, all they could do was stand dumbly before the sight before them.
The corpse of the magical tree, Zy'tl Q'ae.
Its massive trunk lay across crushed forest trees,
and around its midpoint, the earth was gouged away as if a meteor had crashed down.
Even at a distance, the boiling heat radiating from the crater burned their skin.
"The Catastrophe Dragon Lord…"
The elderly woman in a pure-white cheongsam—Kaire—
muttered the words in a trembling voice, sweat beading on her forehead.
The Catastrophe Dragon Lord—
a being prophesied by the Seventh Seat, the clairvoyant "Thousand-League Astrologer,"
said to possess the power to destroy the world.
The Black Scripture had come all the way here to defeat the resurrected Destroyer.
The chain of events began back when the Sunlight Scripture was annihilated.
Let us recount it.
Nigun's Sunlight Scripture had been on a mission to assassinate Gazef Stronoff.
Along their path, they razed villages—
including the unit led by Belius, who slaughtered Nemu and Enri's parents
and plunged Carne Village into despair.
Their encounter with Momonga left their forces half-destroyed.
The survivors fled back to the Theocracy.
Naturally, a report concerning Momonga reached the upper echelons immediately.
Along the relay points between the Kingdom and Theocracy,
magic casters capable of simple transmission magic were stationed—
so the report reached them almost at once.
Identifying the mysterious being as an unknown heteromorph,
the High Priests ordered the Windflower Scripture to observe the Sunlight Scripture's situation.
But the priestess attempting to scry on Momonga was caught in her layered anti-divination barrier—
and exploded.
The blast leveled the temple.
A horrific incident.
Judging from these unprecedented anomalies,
the High Priests concluded the Catastrophe Dragon Lord had revived,
and assigned the Black Scripture to investigate and eliminate it.
Thus the Black Scripture, escorting Kaire—
who wore the World-Class Item Downfall of Castle and Country—
infiltrated the Re-Estize Kingdom.
Before they could begin investigating the Destroyer,
they sensed the disturbance in the Trob Forest—
and rushed here.
Which brings us to the present.
"…So this is the Catastrophe Dragon Lord…
But who defeated it?"
The Fifth Seat—Quiesse Hazeia Quintia—could not keep his composure.
Called a One-Man Army, the strongest Beast Tamer of humanity,
he could readily grasp the raw threat Zy'tl Q'ae had posed.
His skin crawled.
He rubbed his arms to chase away the rising chills.
Imagining himself facing that monster—
without Kaire's World-Class Item or the Captain—
he knew he would never survive.
"A human couldn't defeat this.
Maybe it simply lost control upon resurrection and blew itself apart."
The Eighth Seat, the man with two massive, mirror-like shields—"Greatshield Ten-Thousand Walls"—
voiced suspicion.
"No. This was no self-destruction.
It was clearly killed by an outside force."
Contradicting him was the androgynous man holding a shabby spear—
the First Seat and Captain.
Red eyes narrowed, he studied the corpse.
"Look closely.
The Destroyer's body is split cleanly in two.
It looks like natural collapse at first glance—
but that is not the case.
It was severed.
Cut by something."
"Cut…?
This gigantic monster… was cut down?"
"Yes.
And with a single stroke."
"T-That's… impossible…"
Sweat suddenly beaded upon Quiesse's brow.
Kaire addressed him quietly.
"There exists power that can turn the impossible possible.
This Downfall of Castle and Country is proof of that."
"You mean… someone out there wields an item equal to our god's own treasure…?"
"…It is one possibility."
Downfall of Castle and Country—
a relic left behind by the Six Great Gods.
It could impose mind-control on anyone, even those immune to mind-control.
If another treasure of similar magnitude was used,
defeating the Destroyer would be possible.
But Kaire suspected another possibility.
A being with power equal to the gods—
A Player.
A being from the world the Six Gods hailed from—
a force beyond measure.
If the hundred-year backlash had occurred,
and a Player had descended,
they certainly could defeat the Destroyer.
…but if it were a non-human Player,
they would pose a grave threat to the Theocracy.
There was also the "White Demon" rumored to have annihilated the Sunlight Scripture—
but reports claimed he only used low-tier magic,
so Player involvement seemed unlikely.
Yet there was clearly some connection between a Player and the Destroyer's fall.
This too would require investigation.
(Someone who can bisect a world-ending entity…)
Despite her age making her sweat glands weaker,
cold perspiration dripped down Kaire's back.
A being capable of this—
they needed to be feared.
But if the one who slew the Destroyer was a Player who favored humanity—
a being like the God of Death Surshana—
then perhaps—
(A new god to guide mankind…)
Hope and despair twisted inside her.
The Destroyer revived—
and destroyed.
The mysterious white demon.
The potential appearance of a Player.
"…We withdraw."
Kaire spoke quietly.
Questions and fears mingled chaotically—
lingering here was pointless.
They must report back to the High Priests at once.
"…Wait."
Just as they prepared to leave, Quiesse pointed at something.
A tall tree.
Near the point where its trunk branched—
something was there.
Not someone.
Something.
The Black Scripture approached cautiously.
As they drew closer, the shape gained clarity—
"H-Hu… man…?"
A person.
A man.
Or something like a man.
He hung slumped in the crook where the trunk branched—
but calling him a "man" felt wrong.
First—his limbs were missing.
Arms and legs gone from the shoulder and hip.
The stumps were hideously burned.
His body was skeletal, skin clinging to bone like a dried-out chicken carcass.
His naked flesh was pale—
the color of a corpse.
Everyone assumed he was dead.
A victim tortured and discarded by a monster.
"…How terrible…"
Kaire lowered her gaze, hands forming a prayer—
when suddenly—
The limbless man slid off the tree and dropped to the ground.
Upon impact—
He groaned.
—Alive.
The Captain rushed over, and upon seeing the man's face,
froze in absolute shock.
He recognized him.
"N-Nigun… Grit… Luen…?"
The captain of the Sunlight Scripture—
reduced to a skeletal husk—
still drew ragged breaths.
—"Is it over…?"
Gazef Stronoff ignored the sweat dripping into his eyes and surveyed the field.
His subordinates lay strewn across the grass,
gasping, groaning, utterly exhausted.
"Warrior-Captain, the noon bell will sound soon.
We should stop here…"
"Oh… I see."
Sweat ran down his beard, dripping onto the grass.
He sheathed the blunted training sword
and sharply gave the order to dismiss.
Training since sunrise—
finally at an end.
His subordinates cheered weakly in relief—
but none could stand immediately.
Their legs shook, their arms spasmed, their lungs burned.
And yet Gazef alone walked away untroubled.
Despite doing twice the workload of any of them.
His powerful back—
his sweat radiating heat like a mirage—
filled his subordinates with pride.
"Lately… the Warrior-Captain is amazing."
"Yeah. His swordsmanship keeps getting sharper."
"He's gotten bulkier too, right?"
"He trains like a demon these days."
"At this rate, he could beat the Sunlight Scripture from back then by himself."
"He's gotten… scary strong."
"You think it's because of—"
"Yeah. Ever since he met Albedo."
Gazef poured water from the well over his head.
Steam-like heat rose as the cold water hit his body.
"Fuuu…"
A deep sigh escaped him—
relief bubbling up from his muscles.
This moment after training—
he cherished it.
He wiped himself down roughly,
then began to change into his armor for his afternoon duty guarding the King.
As Warrior-Captain, changing quickly was essential.
He dressed in seconds, checking himself in the mirror—
His usual sturdy armor.
And at his hip—
The Blue Crystal Metal sword loaned to him by Albedo.
"..."
Even sheathed, the scabbard was exquisitely beautiful.
More fit for ceremonial dance than battlefield.
Whenever Gazef checked its weight,
he remembered her words—
"Warrior-Captain, you're still far too weak.
If you died because of poor equipment, I wouldn't sleep well.
So… become strong enough to protect me someday—
and return that sword to me."
Still too weak.
Each time he wore the sword,
his resolve tightened.
To become stronger.
Strong enough to protect the King.
Strong enough to stand beside Albedo.
(Lady Albedo… what are you doing now…?)
He wanted to see her again.
But not yet.
Only when he grew—
strong enough to stand before her as a man.
As he walked through the castle hall lost in thought,
a familiar man approached.
Gazef straightened immediately and bowed.
"Stronoff."
"It is an honor to see you, Prince Barbro."
The First Prince—
Barbro Andraean Ield Ryle Vaiself.
Unlike his younger brother, his body was thick with muscle.
He stroked his beard while scrutinizing Gazef.
"I heard a bizarre tale.
You were nearly defeated by Imperial soldiers,
and some mysterious warrior saved you."
"Yes. I was truly in danger, and—"
"Pathetic.
You bear the title of Warrior-Captain, yet you were saved by an unknown wanderer.
If neighboring nations heard of this,
my reputation as the future King would be ruined."
"...My deepest apologies."
"Hmph… whatever. At least—wait.
What is that?"
"…Pardon?"
"That sword at your hip."
Barbro pointed at Albedo's sword.
Interested in its beauty, no doubt.
Gazef hesitated, then answered:
"It was given to me by the warrior who saved my life."
"What!?
You intend to protect my father with a sword gifted by some vagabond!?"
"…I have His Majesty's approval."
"Hmph.
Let me see it."
"...Yes."
After brief reluctance, Gazef handed the sword over.
It felt like exposing his bond with Albedo—
he couldn't help but feel a twinge of dislike.
"Ohh…"
Barbro exhaled in awe.
Unsheathing the blade revealed a brilliance surpassing the scabbard itself.
Blue Crystal Metal stretched thin—
like a shard of sky carved from ice.
The blade reflected Barbro's face perfectly,
and through it, the faint outline of Gazef as well.
"Beautiful…"
"Your Highness, I must go to the King—"
"Oh? Oh, yes.
Then go.
I will take this."
"…What?"
Shock consumed Gazef.
He had feared this from the moment Barbro asked to see the sword.
This was not simply a weapon.
It was a priceless bond from Albedo.
He could not hand it over.
"P-Please, your Highness, that is—"
"Oh yes, you'll need another sword.
Here—take this.
It's the one I've favored for years."
Barbro shoved his own mediocre sword into Gazef's hands.
The exchange wasn't remotely equal.
Gazef's face twisted.
"Your Highness, this is too much—"
"What did you say?
I, the First Prince—
the future King—
am personally granting you a sword, and you complain?
Or do you value that stranger's gift more than loyalty to your prince?"
"That is not my intention—"
"No excuses.
It is decided.
Such a fine sword belongs at the hip of a noble like me.
Besides—you already have the Razor Edge on loan in emergencies."
"But—!"
"The conversation is over.
I leave now, Stronoff.
Fulfill your duty and—"
"THIS JEST!! HAS GONE FAR ENOUGH!!!"
The shout echoed through the hallway.
Silence followed.
A second later, Gazef realized how loud he had been.
He had made a terrible mistake.
No matter how justified—
to yell at a prince…
"…You…!
You dare raise your voice at me!?
You value that sword over respect for royalty, you filthy cur!?"
"I—I beg your—"
"I do not want your apologies!
Or your excuses!
Ah… I see it now.
Even the Warrior-Captain…
is still just a peasant.
I understand you very well now, Stronoff."
Insults poured down on his bowed head.
Gazef bit his lip.
He had earned the ire of the most troublesome man in the Kingdom.
He always guarded his speech carefully—
and yet this happened.
He cursed himself internally.
Not for Prince Barbro's sake—
but for failing to control himself.
Barbro continued raging.
Gazef, unsure what to do, winced inwardly—
When—
A gentle, crystalline voice cut between them.
"My, what is the matter, Brother?
And Warrior-Captain as well?
You both look ever so frightening."
A floral fragrance drifted between them.
Turning—
they saw the First Princess,
Renner Theiere Chardelon Ryle Vaiself,
accompanied by her attendant, Climb.
Though young, her beauty was breathtaking.
Even so, Barbro's irritation did not fade.
"So it's you, Renner.
Listen—this man dared show outrageous disrespect—"
"What a lovely sword…
Whose is it, I wonder?"
"That is mine—"
"It has just become mine.
That is settled."
"My, may I see it?"
Her gentle smile disarmed Barbro somewhat.
He returned the sheathed sword to her.
"It's so beautiful… isn't it, Climb?"
"Y-Yes, Princess. It is magnificent."
Renner showed the sword to Climb with a radiant smile.
Climb, internally panicking at seeing her hold a blade,
said nothing.
After finishing her inspection,
Renner slid the sword back into its sheath with a soft chime.
"Finished? Good.
Now hand it back," Barbro said.
His rough hand reached toward her—
but Renner only smiled sweetly.
"Brother… isn't it rather cruel to say 'hand it back'?
Perhaps you should stop this now."
"…What?"
"You never intended to take this sword for yourself, did you?"
"…What do you mean?"
Renner feigned innocence as she explained:
"This sword was gifted to the Warrior-Captain by someone powerful enough to save his life.
If that person learned the First Prince seized their gift,
how would they feel?
Surely such a mighty warrior would no longer aid the Kingdom."
"Ah…"
Barbro realized she was right.
If he ever needed that mysterious warrior's help,
what would they think—
seeing him wear the sword instead of Gazef?
He didn't like Gazef—
but he respected his skill.
Anyone who could save him was someone the Kingdom needed.
And he had almost ruined that.
Renner continued with a bright smile:
"But of course, this is obvious if one thinks even a little.
So Brother, you were simply testing the Warrior-Captain, correct?"
Renner did not lose her smile.
If he admitted he hadn't realized it,
his dignity would suffer.
So Barbro had no choice but to nod.
"Y-Yes… of course.
As expected of Renner—
you saw through my intentions."
"Oh no, it was nothing.
Anyone could figure it out."
"Stronoff!
To lose your composure and even shout—
shameful for a Warrior-Captain.
If this happens again, I will not tolerate it."
A parting threat.
Barbro tore the sword from Renner's hands,
shoved it back into Gazef's arms,
and stormed away with heavy footsteps.
"…Princess Renner… thank you."
Gazef bowed deeply once Barbro was gone.
Truly, from his heart.
But Renner shook her head as if it were nothing.
"Fufu. There's no need to thank me.
Now, I must resume my walk.
Come, Climb."
"Y-Yes."
"We'll be going, Warrior-Captain."
Climb bowed politely and followed her.
Once they disappeared around the corner—
Gazef finally let out a long breath.
(That was close…
I must thank Princess Renner properly another time.)
He gripped Albedo's sword once more,
and exhaled deeply at its familiar weight.
"The Warrior-Captain's sword was beautiful, wasn't it, Climb?"
In the royal courtyard, picking flowers, Renner smiled.
She added another flower to Climb's basket—
colors and fragrances overflowing.
Climb nodded earnestly.
"Yes.
I knew it was a gift from the warrior who saved him,
but I did not expect such a treasure."
"Indeed.
And they must be stronger than the Warrior-Captain,
so they must be quite amazing."
"It is said Warrior-Captain Stronoff has been pushing himself harder,
inspired by that warrior.
I would very much like to see what kind of person they are."
A breeze blew.
Renner's golden hair danced.
Her angelic smile—
yet Climb sensed a hint of mischief in it.
"Actually, that warrior…
might be a very beautiful woman, you know."
"A… a woman…?"
"They say love makes people stronger.
Perhaps the Warrior-Captain is striving to be strong
for the sake of a woman he admires.
One becomes strong for the one they love…
Isn't that so, Climb?"
"Yes—
Ah, no—
I—I don't know anything about such things…"
"…Oh, Climb."
Renner puffed her cheeks adorably and glared at him in mock annoyance.
Her expression was so cute
that Climb panicked, bowed his head, and mumbled:
"S-Sorry…"
Like a frightened puppy—
which made Renner smile.
In her eyes—
a heavy, sticky, dark, unnerving light shimmered.