Paloma-Bashar gasped as she saw a piece of her magic ward wither away. Her heart was palpitating as if she had just run through it as fast as she could. Something cold crawled down her spine.

　They were unmistakable signs of agitation. An unconcealed emotion covered Paloma's entire body. One word ran through her mind with intense pain.

　The fallen son of treachery, the master of villainy, the great evil Rougis. The abominable name that few people in the Garleist Kingdom know anymore.

　That opponent is here now. In this burial chamber, Bella.

　This is nonsense that shouldn't need to be dealt with. Even a skeptical Paloma wouldn't have jumped at the idea. I've heard she prefers to work alone, but I don't see how an important figure in heraldry could just waltz into a place like this.

　No, not normally. There's no reason.

　But now, in this prison, there was a reason why a person named Rougis might step in himself. The reason is quite trivial in Paloma's eyes. The first thing you need to do is to look at your eyes. Paloma's corner of her eye twitched.

　--It's the fact that the Nines, his parents, are here.

　I'm not sure what to make of it. The first thing you should do is to look at your eyes.

　He may or may not be a cold-hearted person, but if he's a person who's compassionate and willing to act emotionally. And if he knows the whereabouts of the only person he has left in his family.

　Could he be so passionate that he could enter the prison with a small force?

　That's just a suspicion. A small and essentially unworthy thought.

　But a few years ago, it would have been unthinkable for the heraldry to grow to this level. That would have been impossible. What should have been impossible is now happening. And he was the one who caused it to happen.

　It would be foolish to try to make it all go away with one word: impossible. Paloma's heart pounded as she thought about it. Something close to fear ran down her spine.

　On top of that, there was another piece of information that sent Paloma into a tailspin. A voice that went directly to her psyche. The voice of a messenger.

"...... Okay.

　Paloma has an old fashioned magic contract with the messenger. I'm sure you've heard of it, but I've never heard of it.

　That contract is speaking now. The messenger has been defeated by someone, is severely exhausted, and will disappear in a few hours if things continue as they are. That was the unmistakable feeling that came over the edge of her magic.

　That means Paloma's greatest contradiction has been lost. At the same time, there is an enemy with the power to destroy the demon.

　What to do? Paloma asks herself as she snarls her skull.

　Of course, she could still persist in the face of the wards. Even though a corner has been broken, she doesn't have the strength left to break it all down. Then, if she can endure long enough for the guards to gather around her, it might be possible to take out the exhausted girl.

　But...

"I'm defeated, I surrender. I surrender to you, and you can help the wounded instead.

　With that, Paloma lifted the magical wards. The demonic atmosphere in the room is rapidly receding. This was no longer a different world, but just a room.

　The girl in front of me relaxed her expression for a moment as if she was taken aback, and then said.

"Are you sure? You have a lot of energy left.

　Paloma sat there and responded.

It's not a question of good or bad. It's true, if we're successful, we'll be able to take out you alone. Maybe I can even kill your friends.

　Shaking his mustache, Paloma said crisply. There seemed to be a hint of sadness in his voice.

But how many people will die before that?　The one who defeats my demons, countless more will die. Even if it's you. And then there's the prisoners' rebellion. If we don't get more men, this prison will be unsupportable.

　Even at a time when most of our manpower is being recruited as soldiers. How many people can be recruited to serve as guards? In this respect, Paloma did not trust the skill of the royal government. On the other hand, she did trust the fact that they withheld all judgments and took their time with everything.

　So I see no point in resisting here. A deep sigh escaped from Paloma. In the back of her chest, she felt some relief and some doubt.

　Was this really the right thing to do? Perhaps the best thing to do was to keep fighting until the end.

　To continue to fight valiantly and with all one's might to the limit. It's beautiful, Paloma thinks. Many people can't do that. There's self-preservation. There's dismay. Reason inevitably feels the thickness of the wall of reality.



　Maybe it was youth, or maybe it was just her nature. The mercenary in front of me has done it. She's so precious. Paloma even envied her.

　Perhaps she should have followed her example and done the same. An unsuitable grimace appeared on Paloma's lips.

I don't want to kill people just because I'm incompetent. Besides, some of us have known each other for ...... a long time. Then it would be wiser for me alone to be humiliated and have my head chopped off. It's okay to be stupid, but I don't want to be stupid.

　The words may have been something of a flourish for Paloma. The edge of her words trembled only slightly. There was definitely fear in her heart. His fingertips were numb as if they had been numbed.

　In front of me, she nodded and said.

"Then come with me, Mister Paloma-Bashar. Vestalines-Gerua will vouch for you, in honor of your wise decision.

　Paloma gave a small nod. I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that I'm not the only one who's a fan of your work.


　It's a gloomy place.


　It's a gloomy place. I'm not sure what to make of this. It's not that the location is dim or humid. It's not that the location is dim or humid, it's just that the air seems to be heavier than the surroundings.

　Perhaps it was because of the sobs and ragged breathing coming from the cages. The sticky atmosphere tangled in my skin, making me feel uncomfortable.

　It was enough to give me an idea of how the heraldic prisoners who were being interrogated here were treated.

"--Here. What a grim face.

　He muttered in front of the interrogation room where the guards had stopped. I tried to keep my words as calm as possible. I tried to keep my words as calm as possible. I tried to keep my voice low so that it wouldn't sound raspy.

　My cheeks quivered. I could hear the woman's sobs and the faint sound of laughter. Her eyes narrowed and twisted unconsciously.

　The guard paled slightly and nodded. It was as if he thought he was being accused.

　After Vestalinu had taken Paloma, the prison warden, prisoner, he had talked very quickly. Normally, I would have thought that things would have gotten a little more complicated. The fact that the chief guard, as he was called, had lost his life in the skirmish was probably a big factor.

　Everyone meekly followed Paloma's words. Whether you are a guard or a prisoner, those who are accustomed to obeying orders usually have a very narrow view of the rest. I'm sure I have more than a little of that in me, too.

　From there, I left it to Vesterine to bring in the mercenaries I had posted outside and to keep the guards under surveillance. Perhaps because of the education she received from an early age, she has an excellent ability to set things in motion. I'm sure she'll do much better than I can.

　Besides, I had some things I had to finish first. One of the people locked up here. One of the reasons I decided to come here.

　I've been chattering my teeth off for a while now. A strange impatience was building in my chest.

　To be honest, I've been trying to avoid thinking about this as much as possible. I knew my parents well. I thought that she would be fine, that she would be smart and safe, and I tried to believe that nothing as ridiculous as I imagined would happen to her.

　I don't know if I'm right or wrong about that. But I was sure that if I didn't believe that, I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I thought it would be unnerving.

　That's why, from the first time I heard that I was imprisoned here, I didn't talk about it to anyone, I didn't give my name. I didn't even tell them that they were my foster parents. Probably only Mattia and Anne knew that she was one of my relatives.

　A heavy iron key is dropped in front of me, and the door creaks open. In an instant, I felt the terrible smell of blood clinging to my nostrils. My eyes widen.

"What? Who?

　As soon as the door opened, a man's voice came bouncing from inside. There was no hurry in his words. I guess the noise from the prison had not yet reached this place built underground.

　In silence, I let my gaze wander around the room. The room is dark, very dark. But my eyes could still see clearly inside. I could see right through it.

　Mr. Nines was being held down on some kind of platform, surrounded by several men. All his fingers were splintered, spitting blood. No fingernails. Her legs were bent in funny ways. And he's filthy as hell.

　Oh, I see what you mean.

"Hey, who the hell are you? Did you come to rush me? There's a process to an interrogation, you can't rush me. And I'm the one with access to the interrogation room, so don't make it easy for me to get in there.



　Before the unlocked guard could say anything, he held something that looked like an interrogation tool in his hand. It looked like a more vicious version of an iron hammer.

　While he was saying something, a wild emotion was howling and smoking in my mind. If I'm not careful, it's going to come out of my throat at any moment.

　I had received a petition from the warden, Paloma-Bashar. Everything that has happened in this prison is nothing more than my orders. Therefore, he asked me to guarantee the custody of the guards. I'm sure those were words of unmistakable sincerity from him. I think it's wonderful.

　Probably, Herdt-Stanley would have accepted those words. He would have swallowed it all in his heart without hesitation.

　But alas, I am no Held Stanley.

　I want to be a hero like him, but I'm not that person. I am not a man of good will or a master of justice. I can't be such a beautiful person. After all, I was born of a mud father and a gutter mother.

　I've never had the heart to put on a pretty face.

"Guard, you don't have to explain to them. I just need you to do one thing for me.

　I say to the guard who was with me. Out of the corner of my eye, I met Mr. Nines' gaze. His purple eyes widen slightly.

　The guard responded with a shaky voice. I push the voice out. His fingertips snapped.

"Here's you and me. And there was no one but my foster parents. And you know what?

　He shook the sword at his hip. The guard nodded silently. He took a step forward. All I knew was that the man in front of me turned his eyes.

　And so it all ended without a hitch.