You're hurt bad. You'd better lie down and rest. It's easier to die than you think. You'll be dead before you know it.

　He presses a chewing tobacco to his lips and lets his voice trail off. The words were directed at Vesterine, who was walking behind him.

　Even without looking at her, I could tell by the sound of her ragged breaths that she was in bad shape. She was not normal by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, she was almost completely wounded.

　Clearly, she is in no shape to be walking. In all likelihood, you should rest.

　After my words, Vestalynne paused for a beat, and then said in a piercing voice.

I'm getting the least amount of medical attention I can. First of all, it would be disgusting for me to rest idly while my commander is moving.

　I don't really remember being her commander, but... I don't remember being her commanding officer, but I wonder what kind of change of heart it took for Vesterine to start calling me that. Maybe she hit her head too hard.

　Well, it's true that you brought the mercenaries safely into the prison, and even temporarily took control of the entire prison, so you may be right about being the commander. I'm still not used to being called that.

　Besides... If you're going to call someone commander, you should be obedient enough to listen to my words without questioning them. There's no such thing as a commanding position if you're constantly defying your words.

　While lightly responding to Vestalinu's words, I let out a sigh and stepped onto the dimly lit stairs to the basement. The area around the interrogation room was damp with the smell of blood and saliva, but this place smelled of dust and mud.

　It's familiar. It was a familiar smell to me. Forgotten places, places that people turn away from, all smell like this. The back streets of the city are similar.

　Perhaps they are hardly cared for at all. The dust piled up at random tells us that.

　Well, that's to be expected. In the past, I would have entered this place a few years later than now. Even then, no one seemed to have entered. So really, this place is a forgotten place.

　That's probably why it's still here.

　--A terrible thing that has moved from man to man, from one world to another. A thing that was once called a mystery, a miracle.

　At the bottom of a dark, yet solid stone staircase, there it was. It was there as if it were sitting on a throne.

　I squinted my eyes.

　I'm sure I've seen this before, from a distance. Heldt once told me. I've had a revelation. He said there was someone guiding him to take it.

　It was a small ring.

　Dull in color, not shiny at all. To be honest, I had no idea how valuable it was, even standing right in front of it. If I were a thief, I wouldn't have thought to pick it up. I'd rather stuff something else in my chest.

　But not this one. It's not that kind of triviality.

　This is a magical device that once made even the most gifted magician frown. Then we must take the necessary steps.

"Vesterine, give me back my sword. I can't seem to get it to sit right.

　Vestalines nodded at my words, but moved her lips in a slightly puzzled manner. She then touched the treasure sword with an air of fear and trepidation.

"Yes, of course. You have to return the trust you have been given. But ...... please be careful, you seem to have a strange heat in you. It may be that the magic is building up.

　Huh, it's hot. I can understand if it's freezing cold from the cold air of dead snow. But hot is something that has never happened to me before.

　I've never heard of it being hot before," he said, tilting his head lightly as he fingered the majestic purple treasure sword. I wonder if there is some kind of strange magical reaction going on. If that's the case, I'm in way over my head.

　I touch my fingertip slowly. I stroked the surface lightly, as if checking for texture.

　There's nothing there. It's business as usual. In fact, it even seemed to suck on my finger more than usual. I slid them down to my waist and felt the familiar weight on my hips.

　Perhaps it was because I had been with him for so long, but I felt my hips finally settling down. I wondered what it was that was so hot.

　With the treasured sword at my waist, I once again stood in front of the ring. I let the air escape from the bottom of my lungs and reached for the ring.

　Slowly, I ran my fingers over it, as if I were touching a piece of candy. Instantly, I felt my skin go numb. I felt something sharp pierce my spine. Could it be the flow of magic? Or is it something else?



　Oh, still no good. This is dangerous. I have a hunch.

　Instantly, I turn my ankle, twist my waist, and pull out the SHI-DEN. There was no longer any hesitation in my heart, and the sword drew a beautiful line as if to speak my mind, and cut off the hollow.

　There was only one target, a small ring that sat still and did not move.

　--.

　The ring is cut off with a very light sound in front of the cutting edge of the treasured sword. I was expecting it to be a bit more difficult, but it's much easier than I thought. Perhaps it was the treasure sword.

　The ring was no longer as dangerous as it had been earlier. I wrapped it in a thin cloth and tucked it into my chest. He didn't want to carry it around with him, but he felt that leaving it here would be troublesome.

　Beside me, Vestalynne was looking at me like she was wondering what I was doing. That's right, if I didn't know any better, I'd think I was a madman. My lips pursed as I searched for words.

"It's a long story. It's a long story. So I'm sorry, but you're going to have to swallow it all at once. We're all here for different reasons.

　The reason why I entered the Burial Prison Bella was the result of a number of factors and purposes.

　One of the purposes is to save Mr. Nines, one of the few relatives who raised him. Well, it's too much to ask me to save anyone. The least I can do is give him a hand.

　The other is, as I told Vestalines earlier, to bring down the prison that symbolizes the persecution of heraldry and make it lose its significance.

　In addition, the downfall of this prison would mean the establishment of a bridgehead within the Garlist Kingdom. The saint Mattia would be very careful to maintain it, so she might destroy it as soon as possible.

　Apart from these, there were two other purposes.

　One of them is the ring, Vestalinu said. I nodded my head in agreement.

　I don't know who made it, but it's a very bad magic tool.

　It is not designed to guide a person's consciousness, but to hold a person's will itself in its hands. It can directly interfere with a person's soul with magic power. It seems to be.

　I say "apparently" not because I've actually felt it, but because I've only heard Fialaat say it in the past.

　At least, I remembered Fialaert saying that it was not something that could be handled easily. In the sorcerous realm, her words could not be wrong. I believe that.

　That's why I wouldn't easily give such a thing to someone from the High Holy Church. You can be sure that things will turn out to be troublesome.

　That is why I had to make sure that I got it first. Even if it meant going a little crazy. So I thought at the same time. Perhaps it's not something I can handle easily if it's that big.

　So I made up my mind. Unlike the precious sword, this one would be destroyed here. I was determined to cut it in two. Well, if I couldn't do that, I was going to throw it in the river somewhere.

　I'll tell Vestalines that, but I'll leave out the part about the old days. She's a smart girl, so I'm sure she'll understand the whole picture if I tell her the gist.

　Vestalinu tilted his battle axe, which was still lightly slung over his shoulder, and opened his lips.

"So, what is your final objective, commander?

　She nodded and answered.

　In my ears, I could hear something approaching from afar.

"I want to draw the enemy's attention to me. If there is something to see, people will not look anywhere but there. That's why I asked the heraldic army to move. I wanted them to look here, not to the northwest.

　The sound I heard was a flurry of footsteps. There were sounds of running and searching from above. It was as if a storm was coming.