The heat of the fire melted the air and took the form of a man. I couldn't tell if there was any flesh or blood left in there anymore. It just looked like a lump of fire taking such a shape for a moment, just for fun.

　But he did say, right in front of me, with piercingly bright eyes.

"Alas, I cannot die, I have killed death. I'm like a shifting wraith.

　Walkers. Those who have lost death. People who can't die anymore. Well, I've heard that word somewhere before. I used to hear it.

　Crack, crack, crack, the night-burning flames distorting the scene around you. Even though the mass of fire is there, it doesn't light up the surroundings. In fact, it seemed to have sunk even more into the darkness of the fire.

　I squinted my eyes as I held the treasured sword in both hands. The enemy is now the flame itself. I wonder if I can slay it. And the enemy is a demon. I don't think he can just carry the flames.

　In the past, when I was still looking down, that journey... These were there too. I wonder if it's them.

　They deal in something different from magic and witchcraft. They trample people down as a matter of course. After the catastrophe, people feared these demonic forms that suddenly sprang up.

　They've never been seen before, never heard of before. People naturally fear the unknowable. People don't want to understand the formless.

　I wonder if that's why. Somewhere along the way, we gave them names. In order to keep these unintelligible forms within our grasp. We named them after the demons of the gods.

　A decapitator, an enemy of the human race, a man with a demon's name - in short, a demon.

　The fleshy beast we saw in Belle Fain was just a monster whose fearlessness won out. But this Roseau, he is rational, he speaks, he takes the form of a man. And yet, its very existence is heresy.

　Strange, this one is much creepier than the deformed beast.

"What, the wraiths will die someday. And it just so happens that it was today.

　Now, how did this witch end up in a place like this and in the body of a man named Roseau? I don't know that for sure. But the fact is, it's right in front of me. Then there's only one thing to do.

　Hold up the treasured sword and give a small smack on the lips. I leap to my feet and step away. A small sweat licks my cheek. Was it because of the heat of the fire that the demon was generating, or was it something else?

　The flames flickered in the wind. No, Roseau's arm, which had become a pillar of fire itself, swept through the air, spreading flames. The flames leapt up and swung like a whip, consuming the red bricks with its own body.

　It was as if I was watching a fantasy. My brain almost refused to comprehend what I was seeing, wondering how such a thing could really happen. But the heat that touches my cheeks is undeniably true, and so now my fingertips are on my life.

　Instinct pushes me forward and I tap my foot on the red brick. I jumped, falling backwards. My spinal cord screams for me to do this.

　The next moment, the fire was in front of me. For a brief moment, the heat of Roseau's fire enveloped my entire body. So much heat, my lungs burn. For a brief moment, my body was infused with such an unbelievable amount of heat that my esophagus nearly refluxed.

　As my body collapsed, I fled into the night and forced the hot air out of my lungs. My internal organs screamed as if they were swollen. His heart was palpitating as if he were in the throes of a fever. So this is the blow of the demon.

　He twitches and raises his cheeks quietly. It was a painful blow, but there was something that came to mind after receiving that one.

　As if to say, "I'm not going to give you any time to rest," Roseau's left arm swung up in the air. It was as if he was wielding his own arm as a whip. His left arm became a flame, and the flame became a snake that swam in the air.

　With her eyes fixed on the flaming snake, she let out a momentary breath of hot air from her lips. The best person to deal with such a thing would be Elddis or Fialaert.

　He half opens his body as if to respond to the flames. Then, I held myself up as if I were going to handle the flames with my treasure sword. Instantly, the back of my hand is burned thin. Of course. Under normal circumstances, it would be insane to try to fight the flames. The smell of burning assaulted my nostrils.

　The skin heats up, and you turn your wrist. Then, tracing the trajectory carved by the flame snake, I sent the purple lightning racing. The pillar of fire in front of me was torn apart as if by a storm of wind.

　The sword gouged out what appeared to be the border between his torso and left arm, where his shoulder would normally be. You can't even tell if there's any flesh there anymore because Roseau's body is engulfed in flames, but you can definitely feel it in your hand. It's unmistakable, the sensation of cutting flesh and bone.



　The flames flickered as if in agony. As Roseau's body became a whirlpool of fire, only his eyes could be seen shining up close. There was still a certain amount of flesh left, but it was peeling off with each slash.

　Perhaps that's why. The next blow Roseau delivered was no longer that of a human. Roseau thrust out his right hand, which had turned to flame, and grabbed the air with the palm of his hand.

　That's all. With that gesture--the air exploded.

　A lump of air pierced my ear. A sound like gunpowder bursting, and with such force. I don't know what the logic is, but it's beyond ridiculous. I can't tell if it's heat or pain stuck to my cheek.

　But still. Deep in my heart, there was one thing I was sure of.

　I take a step into the heat and open my eyes. I wonder if a spark has entered my eyes, and my eyes are hot.

　He thrust the sword up as if to show it to the heavens. Then, it just follows the trajectory drawn by the sword and pierces through the flames. The purple lightning engraved a line in the sky.

　--The wind rumbled. The flames that covered his flesh were crushed by the sword, and what little flesh remained of Roseau was exposed to the sky.

　With the momentum of his swing, he dispelled the flames that tried to cling to him. The firecracker seemed to be making some kind of noise as it screamed in agony.

I'm sorry, but it's not the first time I've fought in a fire.

　Besides... This guy, Roseau, is still somewhat human. It is true that his behavior is no longer that of a demon, and his skills are not that of a normal person.

　But somehow, even though he has become a flame itself, he still retains his human form. The way he steps, the way he swings his arms, the way he looks at you. Everything is the same as if he were a human. And when it comes to fighting, he's like an amateur.

　Then I'm not going to die. I don't care if I'm engulfed in flames. You can't die.

　Caria's flash was more deadly than this, and Heldt-Stanley's blow was more profound. Compared to my mentor, Roseau's strike lacks so much deadly intent.

　I'm sure of it. Roseau is a monster, but he's still clinging to humanity. I don't know why, but I'm sure of it. Then kill him while you can. Cut off his head. That's what you should do.

　Now the witch will die without knowing her source.

　When Elddis once chipped away at the life of a wraith. She pulverized their flesh until not a piece was left and then chewed them to death with her magic.

　There's no way I could have done that. I can't even use magic, let alone spell, and it would be difficult to smash it to pieces. But oddly enough, my guts didn't freeze over in fright, but rather, as if to say, what's the matter with you, they had a strange heat to them.

　Yeah, of course. After all, this guy... This wizard who calls himself Roseau is the one who waved his hand at my friend. How dare you do something so foolish! There's a nausea that makes my guts turn inside out. An inexplicable irritation has been crawling up my back for a while now.

　There were people who once treated me like a human being, when I was still just a rat. They were the ones who took me off my hands when all I could do was sip mud and hang my head in shame. This emotion is different from the longing for heroes and the longing for love. It's called friendship and affection.

　The Bruder of today would not know me, nor would he feel any emotion for me. But in my heart, he will always be my bad friend, and I regret letting him die once.

　My heart was beating like it was on fire.

"You're gonna burn right here. Don't worry, I'll lend you a hand.

　There was a painful heat in my chest.