A battle in the sky in front of the gates of Garouamalia Castle.

　There was a battle between mages who were cutting each other's territory, existence, and dignity.

　A sorcerer is the one who possesses the original, and that is the symbol of power and proof of existence. Therefore, the fact that mages use the original as a spear to compete with each other in terms of dignity is equivalent to putting each other's existence on a scale.

　Which one has a stronger ego and which one is a higher being? Which one is more worthy to survive in the world?

　That's what the war between the gem Bau-Agathos and the cog Lovell was all about. They were just two people, showing the humans what a true struggle was all about.

　Laboure raises her eyelashes and stares straight at Agathos. Agathos no longer has any strength. His whole body was wounded, and his immutable, immortal originality was nowhere to be seen.

　And yet, she does not collapse. I don't know why. Lovell's magic leg could not penetrate Agathos, even though it had lost its heat ray and was only shimmering in the air with its jewel.

　The fatal blows all ended in failure. A swing that shattered the magic core was dodged by the slimmest of margins. It's not that I don't like it.

　It's clear that this battle is going to turn to Lovell's side sooner or later. But Agathos doesn't even show any signs of running away. It makes no sense. It is completely absurd. Laboure couldn't understand everything about Agathos' current situation.

　However, Laboure isn't perfect either. The jewel Agathos's re-accelerated blow had struck him in the side. From his side, his silvery entrails were exposed, spitting out iron gears and a slight flash of light.

　It's not good to linger unnecessarily. It will take time to repair and you will need rest. Lovell heard a click inside his skull. His lips moved naturally.

　The information gathered had led him to a conclusion about the current state of Agathos.

"The jewel Bau = Agathos. So that's what it is. You've done something unusual. I will update my assessment of you immediately.

　Agathos' eyes widened for a moment as he looked at Laboure, who made a sound and pulled back his magic leg once. He didn't understand why Laboure stopped the attack, nor did he understand the meaning of his words.

　But at least, in the arena of words, Agathos did not feel defeated by Laboure. No matter what kind of mess he was in right now.

"Oh, dear, I'm sorry. I'm afraid you can't win anymore. I'm not going to let you go. I'm not going to let you go, but you're already finished, no matter how hard you try.

　Still, he was talking less than usual. He could clearly see that Agathos was out of breath even from the side.

　Laboure, unconcerned with Agathos' words, speaks very flatly. His voice sounded very cold as he plucked out only the facts. Laboure pointed into the air in a different direction from Agathos and squeezed his magic leg.

Your inherent integrity is gone. You've learned to live as a pack, not as an individual. We must immediately modify our tactics to break the pulse.

　Agathos' eyes widen. Regardless of the authenticity of what Laboure said, Agathos realized what it meant with a single word. At the same time, he knew what Laboure was trying to accomplish.

　He reflexively flew through the air. Wearing the jewel on his arm, Agathos continued to accelerate in order to destroy Laboure's magic leg itself.

　For Agathos, there are only two people who are connected to him now. Reu, the devotee, and the sorcerer who supplies him with magic power and helps him regenerate himself.

　Fialat-la-Volgograd. That's what Laboure is talking about. Agathos' corner of his eye burns with rage.

"You-aaaah--!　Don't move!　You're going to tear me to pieces right here and now!

"You're finally back to your old self, aren't you? But I won't have it. Excuse me for a moment.

　Agathos' devilish blow didn't even graze Lovell's magic leg. Ahead of that, Laboure's magic leg was flying through the sky with great speed, accompanied by a loud sound that shattered the air. I'm not sure if this is a good idea or not.


　I'm not sure what to say.


　--It was a roar that tore through the air and the sound of lightning piercing steel that echoed in my ears.

　I'm not sure if this is a good idea, but I'm sure it's a good idea.

　But with a flash of lightning fire, it slightly changed its trajectory. Blood splashed up in an interesting way, coloring the deadly snow sky.

　As a result, Lovell was unable to penetrate the target, and only ended up securing himself with his hands. It was obvious who had done this.

　Lovell knew of only one sorcerer who could react to his flash. Therefore, as soon as he stabbed his magic leg into the ground, he opened his mouth.

"Why are you interfering with me? Mage General. Respond immediately.



　The mage general Mastighios-La-Borgograd was spilling blood like a waterfall from his entire left arm. It was as if he was squeezing a rag full of water. I could tell at a glance that it was no longer useful.

　That was the price I paid for foolishly hitting the Demon Leg sideways. No, if it was enough to repel the demon's blow, then it was more than enough.

　Lost a lot of blood and pale, Mastighios said.

She is ...... my daughter. You may offer me your pride, but I have never offered you my daughter's life.

　Rabur's gaze flickers to the sorcerer in his hand. He was distracted by the impact of the magic leg piercing the sky, but there was a definite resemblance to Mastigios.

　Not in its form, but in its nature. For better or worse, all living things are similar to their parents. That is why Lovell knows that their primary purpose is to be blood related.

　Because of this knowledge, Lovell was the first to show some understanding of Mastighios' words.

"Understand, General Magus. But you must understand immediately. I was willing to hurt this human, but not to kill him.

　That's not a lie. Laboure is a body that cannot lie. She speaks only truth. Whether it's a good one or a bad one.

　Before the people around her had time to say a word, Laboure continued. His amber eyes shone with dignity.

The one who can connect the demon and the realm to this extent is precious. For the sake of the Lord's heart, I will make use of it.

　Wounding is only for the sake of securing. It was at that moment that Lovell was about to swing his magic leg once more, speaking plainly.

　Something licked his spine. That's when Lovell knew he was scared. No, I don't know if it's a feeling of dread. I don't know if it was fear or not, but it was the first time he had ever felt anything like that.

　He had sensed threats from the main demon, Vriliganth, and he had intuited the end of destruction. But this was the first time he had been made to feel the fear of death.

　Without any hesitation, it sent a beam of purple light down Lovell's neck. Reflexively, Lovell avoided it.

　This is the first time that I've ever seen such a thing. This is because the disasterous existence of a demon cannot be harmed by a single human swing.

　There is a difference in domain, heat of existence, and rank between demons and humans. A demon or a demoness cannot be injured by someone outside the realm.

　But Lovell's wise intellect judged this to be a threat that could kill or injure him.

　The purple light sprinted several times, narrowly missing Lovell's neck, eyes, and the ends of them. On the other hand, when Lovell's magic legs tried to rip off his flesh, he deflected them in a fluid motion.

　It was no longer the work of a human to be able to use a sword that could be called a great sword so freely. In fact, its contents were almost human.

　And yet, somehow, it still seemed to keep its human shell on and its inside in check. It's very strange to Laboure.

I don't understand. Why are you still human? There are so many ways to go...

"Because I was born a human, that's why.

　"Because I was born a human," the man said, wearing a green military uniform and carrying a murderous intent against the demon on his shoulders. That itself is abnormal. Normally, a human being could not have the will to kill a demon, a disaster.

　At that point, Lovell had a hunch. This man who perceives the demon as a target to kill as a matter of course. This blasphemer who irreverently condescends to think that even disasters are his domain to kill.

　This is it.

"So you're the one who killed the demon? You're an irrational creature.