An underground temple passage. A place where there was still only a flicker of light. There was only a breathtaking air.

"I decide what's right for me. He's the one who led me here. And I'm the one who decided to take his hand. Then the choice is now made - me and him, we are friends.

　In the dim light, only the faint light of the candelabra illuminated the two of them.

　Kalia draws her silver long sword, a gleam of the same color in her eyes. In the event you're not sure what you're looking for, there are a few things you can do.

　He drew his double-edged sword as well as Kalia's, and though it was not ornate, it did not lose its white glow even in the darkness.

　In the narrow passageway, they faced each other for a moment with their swords drawn. Both swords are within a foot of each other, but still no movement. Silence reigned in the dim darkness.

　The fire in the candlestick wavered, and a pale light flickered.

　Both sides were slightly unreadable. Whether the other party fully understood or not. Does he or she understand the current situation, the place where the two of them are now? If not, then death is inevitable.

　Heavy sighs, expressing the state of mind of both of them, are trying to crawl out of their lungs and are being held back again and again.

　Kalia's eyelashes blinked, and Heldt's hands tilted.

　--Zang.

　The sound of a blade stroking the sky. That sound was the signal.

　From a half-hearted stance with her long sword outstretched, Kalia stepped forward and drew a silver flash in the air. If you look at her from the front, the straight line of her movement is mesmerizing.

　The tip of the sword does not tremble, and there is no time lag between the interlocking of the limbs. That blow is the result of natural talent and daily training that does not let that talent get clouded.

　In contrast, Heldt's white shines. He took a half step backward with his right foot, pointing the tip of his sword diagonally to the right and downward. There was no longer any hesitation or confusion in his widened eyes.

　Almost simultaneously with the flash of silver. A line of white splits the air. In order to draw a trajectory that can be called flowing, and to gouge out the armpit of the opponent, the weight of the sword and the strength of the sword are fully utilized to swing with great speed. The trajectory was the shortest and the sharpest, as if all waste had been eliminated.

　The contact was simultaneous. The blood escaped from the sack of humanity and swayed freely in the air, while the flesh gouged, blossomed, and opened as if it had been there all along.

　A flash of silver slices through the neck, and a gleam of white gouges the flesh from under the armpit.

　I heard the sound of two pieces of flesh collapsing almost simultaneously.

"You didn't see me last, did you? You didn't see me at the end.

　In a somewhat whispered voice, Caria pulled out a silver long sword from an unidentified figure that was approaching from behind Heldt. The head spat out blood endlessly, signaling the death of its owner.

"I'll say the same for you, Mr. Karia. You're the one who can't see my trajectory. How long have you known?

　Kalia responded with a shrug of her shoulders, "I don't know.

　Herdt clipped the left arm of the black-robed man who seemed to be crawling out of the shadows behind Kalia, and took the man intact. The black fabric wrapped around his face prevented him from seeing the expression on his face, but his eyes revealed agitation, frustration, and finally, doubt.

　Why?

　We were just about to finish off the intruders who had split us up, weren't we? The sudden change in the situation was too much for him to think about, and his brain was shaking with feelings of confusion and panic.

　Seeing this, Kalia gave an exclamation of admiration.

You're good. You kept him alive, I pushed him to death. I was just about to ask you a question.

I've been wanting to talk to you." "How could you let him talk?　We don't know for sure that he's related to Fialaert, Lugis or the two of you.

　With that, Heldt tied up the mouth of the black-clad man's severed left arm with a cloth. The blood stopped, and for the first time, the man felt intense pain.

　The senses that had been numbed and lost because of the intense pain suddenly came alive and told his brain. It's dangerous. He screams to stop the bleeding and close the wound. The man moaned involuntarily.

"Of course. It's not set in stone, but it's not wrong. I know it sounds contradictory, but I believe that if trouble is brewing, it means that Lugis is involved somewhere. And even in the Order, torture, if necessary, is an appropriate method.

　She looked terrifying and strangely intimidating in the small light as she shook the tips of her silver hair. She said she would do it. She had an attitude of assurance that she was going to do it, whether she said it or not.

　The man's guts shrank as if gripped by an eagle. A pain more terrible than death awaited him. But his eyes tighten as he refuses to say anything. That's what assassins are for. Everything is prepared. In such a case, the way to live by faith is to choose death before the garment of the body is tortured and the spirit inside is revealed to be weak.

　The man opens his lips slightly to bite down on the poison in his back teeth. All that's left is to crush it in an instant. All he has to do is lower his teeth. And then, and then... But somehow, the tooth won't come down. There's a foreign object screwed up in my mouth. Something forced its way into my mouth, and as if it knew everything, it wouldn't let me bite the poison.



Please don't die. I don't want you to die. I even want you to live.

　Herdt's thumb and forefinger, inserted quickly, held the man's mouth open. Then, with two fingers, he removes the sachet containing the poison from his teeth.

　The man's face turned pale. It wasn't because he had been given an easy way to die. Not because the obvious torture was about to begin.

　It was because he realized that Heldt, or whoever he called him, was doing this with unquestionably good intentions. I didn't keep him alive to torture him and get what I wanted out of him. I didn't keep you alive to mutilate you.

　I realized that I was trying to keep you alive out of the goodness of my heart.

　Terrible. The sensation of having my mind constricted by thousands of thorns. A shiver of fear ran down the man's spine.

"Mr. Caria. I'll raise my hand to help you find out.

That's surprising. I thought you didn't do that kind of thing.

　I thought you were the kind of person who didn't do that kind of thing." With a gentle smile, Held nodded.

Yes, of course. But if I don't do it, you will. But if I don't do it, you will. Knowing that and refusing to do it is not fair. I don't want to be the one who is wrongly accused of cowardice.

　So, she moved her lips, put her hand in front of her chest and told the man.

I'll do what's best for you. I will do my best to keep you alive, to keep your spirit alive.

　That means no amount of begging will kill you, no amount of begging to the gods will drive you mad. Yes, all out of the goodness of my heart.

　I feel dizzy. The man felt his heart palpitating and his mind crumbling as easily as he had prepared for it. He was prepared for malice in any way he could. He was used to being exposed to malice from a young age. But, but... Isn't it too much, God, when the last thing you see is goodness that far outweighs the badness?

　The prayer, a mixture of excessive fear and sobbing, disappeared into the darkness without being seen.