The sight, the thought, scorches.

　My head was feverish, as if it were ravaged by an epidemic, and refused to function. However, it is quite another thing to say whether I could have taken any action once my head was spinning.

　The scene unfolding in front of me is burned into my eyes and my mind. It was a scene I had seen once before. Not peering into the darkness as I do now, but very close, so close that I can reach it.

　In my brain, the sight of the past comes to life. The sight of Vestalinu's mighty spear axe roaring and crushing Bruder's body. The blow that crushed flesh, bone, and everything else without exception, and transformed Bruder into a mute object.

　It was an unmistakable déjà vu. You've already seen it, you already know it. Then what is the action you should take here?

　Once, I was too stupid to do anything. My limbs trembled, my fingers couldn't grasp anything, my legs collapsed, and I couldn't move forward. A newborn baby would probably be more useful. That's what I thought. And just like that, I couldn't even save Bruder, let alone die with him, let alone face him. d*mn it. Oh, d*mn it.

　I remember. I remember the way Vesterine looked at me from atop that horse. The way she said I couldn't be a threat. Not the way she looked at the enemy, but the way she looked at the dust on the road, like she was annoyed.

　I'm sure the only reason he killed Bruder was because he disobeyed him. So I was let off the hook for not standing up to him, and I lost my friend and my dignity at the same time. All that was left was a miserable life.

　--Oh, you've got to be kidding me. And now that scene is right in front of me again.

　My legs were already kicking the ground.

　My heart is in a weird, complicated place. Of course I don't want to lose Bruder again. There was also the desire to get even with the Steel Princess.

　But the biggest thing was that I didn't want to live like that ever again. I'm a selfish person, after all.

　Yeah, I think Kalia, Fialaat, Erdis, and even Mattia told me that. That's what I am, after all. That's why I'm doing this now.

　There's a flash of light in my eyes. He thrusts his shoulder out, and with the momentum of his leap over Bruder, he pulls the sword from his waist. The jeweled sword drew a line of purple light and went into the path of Vestalinu's spear axe.

　It's as if it was always meant to be, drawing a beautiful trajectory.

　--Do, gun!

　I'm not sure what to make of this. In the beginning, Vestalynu put the momentum of slamming from the horse on the weapon. It is different from just catching a weapon.

　The bones in her waist, and indeed her entire body, creaked. The flesh seemed to tear under the pressure of the blow. My guts cowered and sobs crawled out through my teeth.

　He forced his wrist back, making a distorted sound. With the steel still joined, I pointed the tip of the sword at the ground. As if to show a new path to a spear axe that had just lost its way.

　The burning smell of iron rubbing against iron covered the surroundings. A resounding squeal struck my ears. Even though I was trying to relax, I felt as if my wrists were going to be shattered.

　A few seconds later, the spear-axe, still reeking of burning, slammed into the ground as if to gouge it out.

"Did your parents teach you to crack your head open when welcoming people?

　I think my voice was trembling. My back teeth were aching. It felt as if my bones were twisted, and there was no way I was going to be able to use my legs to get out of here.

　Okay, so that's it. There's no escape now.

"...... was just the thing. I was looking for you, green one.

　Vestalinu's eyes pierced my body. The breath that was about to escape from my mouth flowed back up my airway and into my lungs.

　What those eyes were telling me was not frustration at being interrupted from striking a blow at Bruder, or repulsion at the words that were thrown at me, but pure hostility.

I have heard that you are the very worm that harms my father, Mordor Gorn.

　A worm. A worm, indeed. What Vestalines had in mind was not hostility, but rather a kind of annoyance with pests. I was underestimated, yes, really, underestimated.

　But if it makes you pay attention to me, that's all right.

Misunderstanding. Give me a break, I'm just protecting what I'm protecting.

　With the helmet on, I couldn't read the details of Vesterine's expression, but I could see his eyes flutter.

　I'm sure she's heard at least some of my words. Very, very good. There's no way to upset him if he's listening to every word I say, treating me like dirt on the street like before.

　Whether as a friend or foe, there are many ways to do it, if the word gets into your heart. Especially if it's a little girl who is trembling with emotion and clinging to something.

What does this have to do with you, father?

　I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that I'm not the only one who's a bit of a jerk.



　I'm glad Vestalinu is so honest. If it had been a personality like Kalia's, who was both fierce and twisted, she would have been attacked without question.

　With protection as the cornerstone of her heart, she couldn't let those words go unheard. Vestalines can't tolerate the cunning of pretending that she didn't hear it all and then tearing it all down.

　That's great integrity, I admire it. I want to praise it with open arms. Thank you for holding my hand.

It's the only way. After all, don't you know what your lord Mordor used to do?

　I saw the glint in his eyes intensify. It was not confusion, but more hostility. After all, he didn't have a high tolerance when it came to his father.

　But if I don't get into this, it won't go anywhere. In any case, my goal is to make him betray the Steel Princess Vestaline, whom I believe she admires the most, Mordor-Gorn.

　My cheeks twisted. I've got a bad temperament, really. I don't think I'll die well. But it's better than a bad life.

I know some people say bad things about your father. But everything your father does is necessary for the new reign. If you wish to harm your father merely out of spite...

"What kind of spite is that, huh?

　I'm not sure if it's a good idea, but it's a good idea. As if to gobble up the words, Bruder, who had been crawling on the ground, looked up.

　His long, brown hair was falling out of his hat and showing. I wondered if he had ever let his hair grow long. In the past and this time, he hid his hair in his hat even when he slept, so I didn't think much of it.

　Oh, yes. Once, when I saw him, I said he looked like a woman, and he shot me in the jaw. Not with a long needle, of course, but with a fist.

　Since then, I think I have been subconsciously avoiding words.

　His wavy brown hair swayed, and Bruder opened his lips.

"Bruder, tell me the name of Bruder-Gerua. You will remember well what the man you call father did to my father Bruder!