Arc 9, Part 45: "Clashing Irregulars"

—God, Buddha, Od Lagna. I swear, for the rest of my life, I will never invite anyone into my home.

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—To be clear, Felt had not initially accepted Roy’s conditions with the intention of breaking them immediately.

The "insurance" the opponent had placed was indeed "insurance." Felt was well aware of its threat; she knew that any careless move would not only cost her own life but likely cause catastrophic damage to everyone around her. That was why she had intended to play the role of Philore Lugnica and wait for an opening from Aldebaran and the others, as galling as it was to follow Roy’s lead. Naturally, her plan was to outmaneuver Roy, who was himself trying to outmaneuver the others. However, Felt’s resolve was forced to change course almost immediately.

"—Felt!!"

Released from the sealed space, feeling the cold steel against her neck, Felt poured her entire soul into grasping the situation. Her first priority was to play Philore and prevent the "insurance"—the threat that might trigger regardless of whether Roy was watching. Beyond that, she sought an opportunity to pull the rug out from under Aldebaran and everyone else present. But those various preparations nearly shattered the moment a familiar voice called her name.

"————"

While held in a half-nelson, she managed to lift her head and look. Deep in the battlefield, the one who had called her name in a booming voice was Old Man Rom, whom she had already missed dearly after only two or three days. Simultaneously with her joy, she realized she was being used as a hostage against him. She forced the mask of Philore, which was about to peel off, back into place—and then, their eyes met. Not with Rom. But with the pale blue eyes of the girl perched upon his shoulder.

—In that instant, information flooded into Felt’s mind with terrifying momentum.

"—Ugh."

Inside Felt, whose red eyes blinked in surprise, a muddy torrent raged as if begrudging even a moment’s delay. The middle of a battle, Aldebaran and Yae, the absence of the Divine Dragon, a total war on a battlefield where only Roy and Heinkel remained, split-and-ambush tactics, commanded by my amazing Old Man Rom, Reinhard continuing to deal with the Witch, and also, and, and—

"—Old Man Rom! Get Gaston and the others back! That thing is coming!!"

Swimming through the relentless torrent of information, Felt raised her voice, deciding this was the best course of action. Even if she stayed terrified of the "insurance" and continued her act as Philore, there was a high probability that Roy, cornered in combat, would break his promise to change the situation. He was an Archbishop, after all. It was a mistake to trust that such a person would ever keep their word. In the first place, Roy had been lying from the start. The idea of conspiring with Felt to escape by catching Aldebaran off guard was a total sham. From the beginning, Roy had thought of nothing but devouring everyone—Felt, Aldebaran, Yae, Volcanica, and Heinkel alike. Therefore—

"—It’s coming out of my shadow!!"

She felt no hesitation or second thoughts about outmaneuvering Roy like this. The only fear she’d had was the inability to deal with the "insurance," but that fear was negated by the faces present—especially the presence of Old Man Rom.

—If Old Man Rom is here, there’s nothing we can’t do. The hope that most of the world placed in the "Sword Saint" Reinhard van Astrea, Felt placed in this aged giant. Thus—

"—It’s the Black Snake!!"

Even as a terrifying torrent of "Death" erupted from her own shadow, there was not a trace of fear in Felt’s eyes or her heart.

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—God, Buddha, Od Lagna. I swear, for the rest of my life, I will never witness anyone’s final moments.

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—One of the Three Great Demon Beasts, the "Black Snake," the beast of disease.

While the ecology of the species known as Demon Beasts is generally to harm all of humanity, the Three Great Demon Beasts were considered exceptional for the simple reason that the scale of the damage they caused was far too vast, even by the standards of their kind.

—The "White Whale" of the mists, which had seen numerous subjugation forces formed by various nations, only to erase most of them from existence. —The "Great Rabbit" of gluttony, which devoured countless lives with a disaster-like appetite, consuming even tragedy itself.

The terror of those two, also called the Three Great Demon Beasts, went without saying. However, compared to the White Whale or the Great Rabbit, the existence of the Black Snake was something even more distinct and bizarre. As mentioned, the Three Great Demon Beasts were those that caused damage far surpassing other demon beasts. —If one were to strictly follow that criteria, the Black Snake should not be called one of the Three, but simply the single greatest Demon Beast.

For the lives taken by the Black Snake—which had destroyed a former great power and reduced the Five Great Nations to four—were far more numerous than those taken by the White Whale or the Great Rabbit.

"Nuaah—!?"

Told of the Black Snake’s appearance, Old Man Rom let out a cry of shock at the sight that followed. In an instant, what erupted from the shadow beneath Felt’s feet was a mass of miasma so thick and dense it could be visually identified—it looked as if the shadow itself had reared its head, a manifestation of a peerless, malevolent threat that triggered an instinctive sense of "Death" in all living things. And yet—

"Eei, what is with those eyes...!"

Even though she must have felt the terrifying presence of the demon beast right beside her, the fact that Felt’s eyes held only trust, not fear, as she looked at him made Rom’s heart surge. It made him want to suppress his instinct to cling to life—a luxury for the elderly—and live up to that expectation.

"Petra!" "Yes!"

In that split second, the girl replied and leaped from Rom’s shoulder. Tucking his chin at the clever girl’s judgment, Rom stared straight ahead—and "Compression" was activated.

"————"

A sensation as if the world were being left behind vibrated through Rom’s soul. If this power had existed in the many battles Old Man Rom—Valga Cromwell—had been involved in until now, the tactics, the outcomes, and even history itself would have changed drastically. Just by seeing the power of an Authority and feeling a Witch Factor nearby, one couldn't help but imagine such "what-ifs." Perhaps that was exactly why those chosen by a Witch Factor became enchanted by the power, drowning in a sense of omnipotence, losing their way, and falling into becoming monstrous existences. And yet—

"—Ngh."

Petra, biting her back teeth hard, was enduring it with a brave heart. Though it had only been a short time, there was no doubt the Witch Factor was placing a considerable burden on her. He wanted to release her from it immediately, but contrary to his wish, reality forced her to exercise the power. It was infuriating that Rom himself could be nothing more than one of the people in that hateful reality. That was why, because he was forcing her, he would at least bring back the best possible result.

"Eight of Lightning, Warrior. Eight of Flowers, Soldier."

The sensation of his thoughts exploding and his thick lips weaving those words happened simultaneously. Following Rom’s instructions, Petra made a swift judgment, using "Compression" to pull back Flam, Grasis, and Gaston, tossing them to the rear of the battlefield. In their place, Rom leaped forward the same distance, forcibly snatching Felt away from Heinkel’s hold, attempting to retreat once more. However—

"That’s mean, didn't you say we’d escape together?"

In that instant, a voice with a sticky, unpleasant quality overlapped with the sickening sound of flesh being forcibly pierced. As Rom groaned from the burning pain that followed, his eyes met the blood-stained smile of Roy, the owner of the hand thrust into his right flank. Roy, who should have suffered a fatal wound from Ram and the others' coordinated attack, was still baring his fangs, his small, scarred frame dyed bright red with blood.

"You bastard, to Old Man Rom...!"

"I did warn you, didn't I? These guys won't listen to us properly anyway!"

Snapping his teeth at the furious Felt, Roy jerked his chin toward the back. A massive pillar of black filth surged upward; every living thing felt instinctively in their soul that this was a threat that could erode life just by being in one's field of vision, let alone touching it. It wasn't a threat or a bluff; a sinister legend known as the "Black Snake" was right there.

"—Ngh."

Enduring the pain in his side, Rom’s thoughts raced at white heat. Trying to deal with it here was the worst possible move. Above all else, they had to escape the range of the Black Snake’s "Evil Tongue." But Roy would naturally interfere, making it difficult to escape with "Compression." Did Roy have a way to avoid the Black Snake’s calamity, or was this a suicidal kamikaze tactic? Wring it out, wring it out, wring out the best move to stop him—

"—Protect Fold’s daughter!"

Even Rom didn't know why the destination of his heated thoughts reached that conclusion. It was just that the process of thinking leading to that result had been compressed to the limit, and he screamed it. A single man responded to Rom’s blood-curdling cry.

"U-uaaaaaa—!"

The owner of the terrified, trembling voice instinctively swung his sword, slashing diagonally at Roy, who was trying to grapple with Rom’s giant frame, blowing him away. The brilliance of that silver flash was enough to surprise even the one who swung it, and for Felt, who was saved by it, the impact was as if the heavens themselves had fallen.

"You..."

"—!"

Heinkel stared back at the wide-eyed Felt with a grim expression, his teeth clenched as he reached out. His hands pushed straight ahead—not at Felt, but at the giant frame of Rom, who had pulled her close. Hit by an unexpectedly powerful shove, Rom’s body was sent flying by the momentum. And, before the eyes of the shoved Rom and Felt—

"Lady Philore, I—"

Who could have described that expression, a mixture of confusion, regret, love, and hate? What kind of emotion were the words woven by those incredibly complex lips trying to convey? No one would ever know. —Because before the answer could take shape, Heinkel Astrea was swallowed head-first by the falling filth of the Black Snake and vanished.

"————"

Bathed in the waterfall-like filth, the earth, dyed a sinister black, began to die. Trees withered, grass and flowers rotted, and water turned murky and bubbled. After being tainted by the Black Snake’s Evil Tongue, not a single trace of the color of life remained; everything was absorbed and killed uniformly. That, of course, included Heinkel, who had taken the filth head-on.

"—You idiot!" "Ah, what a waste!"

Ironically, the reactions of Felt and Roy matched in their frustration at the scene. However, Rom, the other party involved, had no right to lament it. He was aware that Heinkel’s desperate action just now had been triggered by his own cry. Furthermore, regardless of that awareness, Roy’s appetite immediately shifted gears.

"Philore Lug—" "Two of Wind, Hunter!"

Amidst the lethal filth bubbling up like spring water, Rom’s voice drowned out Roy’s, who was prioritizing his hunger. Twisting his body to move Felt away from the pouncing small frame, Rom barked instructions to his clever partner—not for their own retreat, but to break the situation.

"—!! " "I'm not confident I can stop this kid either!"

Called by that instruction, a giant, ferocious beast appeared with Meili clinging to it. A roar and a desperate curse overlapped as the beast’s claws caught Roy head-on. The "Beast Master" pointed at the mass of filth, put strength into her stomach, and screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Sit!!"

Meili’s command, like a thunderclap, slammed an irresistible impulse into the demon beast. Suddenly, the movement of the filth that had been crawling across the ground, traveling through shadows, and trying to branch out became erratic. Rom and the others, who had leaped away as the ferocious beast took their place, escaped the Black Snake’s range. They escaped, resumed breathing, and as they turned their heads to finally take in the full view of the filth—they were struck speechless.

"————"

It was not a living creature with any charm like a "demon beast"; it was the phenomenon of "Death" itself. The filth overflowing from the forest shadows converged, forming a silhouette like a serpentine body. However, that silhouette was not made of flesh or scales; it was merely a collection of countless diseased spots that happened to take that shape. The scale-like growths covering the snake's body swelled and burst, scattering black droplets like pus, and each drop caused whatever it touched to rot away without a sound. At the tip of the silhouette that could barely be called a head, it opened like petals, and countless thin, thread-like protrusions wriggled like tongues, tentacles, or a swarm of parasites. It was truly an existence that rang the alarm bells of life, worthy of the name "The Worst Demon Beast."

If the White Whale devoured history from the sky and the Great Rabbit gorged on the endeavors of the earth, the Black Snake was the very calamity of ruin that sickened and rotted the world itself.

"That recognition is exactly right—!"

In Rom’s trembling field of vision, Roy cheered loudly atop the earth tainted by the Black Snake’s filth. Simultaneously, the entire body of the massive demon beast trailing its tail sprayed blood; it was struck from directly below by a palm strike and launched high into the air.

"Shadow Lion-chan—!"

Meili screamed and reached out, but there was nothing she could do. The blown-away demon beast, Guiltylaw, spun around and fell helplessly onto the earth where the Black Snake had spread its filth. Its massive body was licked by the Evil Tongue and eroded with terrifying speed. With that painful death-throe roar behind him, Roy also stood in the center of the filth. —However, Roy was manipulating the blood flowing from his deep wounds to form crustacean-like legs, creating a posture where his feet did not touch the ground.

"Ah, don't cry, Meili. That child will be reborn, just like this."

As Roy said this and snapped his fingers, what had been Guiltylaw—swallowed by the filth and turned into a black mass—swelled, and the demon beast’s giant body transformed into countless iridescent butterflies. Iridescent butterflies of various sizes danced, and Roy laughed wickedly within the lingering miasma of the Black Snake.

"Felt, that fellow is controlling the Black Snake..."

"He said he couldn't control it well himself, but he managed to hide it in my shadow with conditions. I'm not in the mood to take him at his word."

"How sad! You betrayed us just because you couldn't trust us? Such a wicked act as deceiving an Archbishop... wouldn't your royal blood weep?"

"Sorry, but my blood is made of slum water and bread. No matter who my parents were, I don't need any dainty sentimentality about weeping over betraying you."

Felt spoke back bravely to the mocking Roy, her gaze flickering toward the position where the Black Snake’s filth was coiled—where the black torrent had swallowed Heinkel. Looking at Guiltylaw’s recent end, it wasn't hard to imagine Heinkel’s fate. For Rom, and for anyone in their camp, he was a man they couldn't possibly have a good impression of. But he was Reinhard’s father. As a fellow hostage, Felt had likely spoken with him. To have his end be as fodder for the Black Snake was far too cruel a fate, even as retribution.

"—Ul Goa!!"

A fierce shout burned away that sentimentality. Soaring over Rom and the others' heads, a hellfire approached the Black Snake, illuminating the forest. Upon collision, the filth shook violently from the explosion, and the hot stench of rot suddenly brought reality crashing back. The one who had launched that merciless attack on the Black Snake was a new participant—

"Hey, Felt! If you're back safe, give the order! That's your job!"

Rachins, having thrown a flashy opening shot as a greeting, spurred her on. He seemed to have pushed himself quite hard; despite having just joined the fray, Rachins was out of breath. However, his encouragement was effective. Felt’s eyes widened slightly, then her cheeks tightened bravely—

"Old Man Rom, let us win."

"...You ask for the impossible."

"I wouldn't say it if it were impossible."

"I didn't say it was impossible. I said it was 'reckless'."

With the wound in his side, Rom wouldn't be able to move nimbly. He should focus on the job he could do; the blood that had rushed to his head cooled, and he began to think calmly. If Felt were touched by the hands of "Gluttony," what would happen to the name Philore Lugnica? —Rom, knowing the answer, silenced his sentimentality and began to weave his thoughts. As if finding his presence reliable, Felt slapped both her cheeks with her hands.

"Alright, here’s the order you wanted. —Let’s do this, you bastards!!" ""OHHH—!!""

At Felt’s brave command, voices rose, led by Rachins and Gaston. While feeling proud of his comrades who, instead of flinching, raised their morale against an Archbishop and the Black Snake—threats to the world itself—Old Man Rom also slapped both his cheeks with his hands.

"Ah—"

Basking in those gazes of hostility directed at him, Roy hugged his own body.

"I can't stand it. —Everyone, every single one of you... I love you the most!"

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—God, Buddha, Od Lagna. I swear, for the rest of my life, I will never hold anyone’s hand.

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I want to eat, with joy. I want to eat, with gratitude. I want to eat, with love.

Not with anger, sadness, fear, hostility, anxiety, disgust, hatred, resentment, lamentation, mockery, contempt, curses, or malice—I want to eat. —From the bottom of his heart, Roy Alphard of "Bizarre Eating" wanted to eat everyone here.

"But there are so many obstacles in the way."

Casting aside his tattered clothes and exposing his scarred skin to the wind, Roy licked his lips. The failure of "Eclipse" and the damage from the "hospitality" provided by Ram and the others in its wake were immense; Roy didn't actually have as much leeway as he was pretending to have. He was using the magic of "Blood-Tear Oni" to manage his massive blood loss and the power of "Rainbow Illusion Duke" to repurpose the demon beasts and forest creatures killed by the Black Snake’s filth into iridescent butterflies, but under the influence of Aldebaran’s curse mark, Roy didn't even have the freedom to flee the battlefield.

Of course, even if he did, the thought of running away from such a feast never even crossed the mind of Roy of "Bizarre Eating."

"We’re different from Ley of 'Gourmet,' after all."

Ley, who was picky and chose his targets carefully, also obsessed over the situation. Because of that, he would use retreating or "saving it for later" as a spice, but Roy was different. Not being picky meant his appetite was stirred by every opponent across the board. In other words, Roy Alphard wanted to devour every human being in this world. Therefore, running away was out of the question. If he were to never meet someone again after encountering them once, no matter how many bibs he had, they wouldn't be enough to catch his drool of regret.

"For us, this 'preparation' is a bit troublesome."

He had failed to eat Ram, whether as "Ram" or "Ram Senm." A change of True Name—there was no doubt about it. But the fact that even the latest "memories" of her relatives couldn't be relied upon meant the candidates for her changed True Name were infinite—and likely, it wasn't just Ram; there was a high probability that everyone in the frontline group had undergone the same preparation.

"I wonder how much I should believe that 'Witch of Melancholy' Petra Leyte thing, too."

The way she had introduced herself so loudly seemed like a massive trap now. If that were the case, the only person Roy could currently reach out to in this battlefield was Felt, who was almost certainly Philore Lugnica, but even that wasn't certain. In the unlikely event that he missed with Felt and suffered the "Eclipse" gag reflex, Roy, caught in that opening, would truly be finished. Therefore, with a heavy heart, Roy made a decision unbecoming of "Gluttony"—

"—Eating is postponed for now."

At this very moment, it was impossible to identify the True Names of the feast and devour them all. To consume them root and branch, the top priority here was preparing "preserved food." Fortunately, the Black Snake following Roy was one of the heads that excelled at that. —Because of that, the ideal would have been to manifest the Black Snake where there were more people, but including that, Felt’s decision to betray him came at an exquisitely bad time for Roy.

"But that’s what makes it! Worth! Eating!!"

On the verge of bleeding out, massive damage, hunger of hungers, most famished—"Bizarre Eating" at full throttle. He pressed his hands together in front of his chest and pulled the world together from both ends of his vision toward the center. Deeply rooted trees snapped, and even the earth packed down by nature was dug up by the power of "The Presser," regardless of the terrain, as he moved to block the escape routes of the prey who had retreated to the safety zone.

"Gaston! Doltero!"

Two large men moved to stop the construction of that sturdy earthen wall by force. The standoff lasted only an instant; the resistance to the compression bounced back to Roy’s closed hands, and as his hands were forced open, a vortex of fire appeared before his eyes.

"Rachins! Maid sister!"

The fireballs from the three-white-eyed man combined with the wind generated by Ram, creating a tornado of flames. Roy met it with "Magic Manipulator" water spears, consuming three of the dancing butterflies. The butterflies hatched from the mana remaining in corpses could exert destructive power on their own, but they could also be used as external mana tanks for magic. For Roy, who wanted to maintain "Flow Method" on his dying body with his own mana, they were an automated reinforcement that the Black Snake added every time it killed.

"Flam! Grasis!"

The fire tornado and icebergs collided, and water vapor covered his vision with the force of an explosion. The sky was white, the earth was black; breaking through the world being repainted in two colors, a rough onslaught from the twins descended, ignoring Roy’s desire to take a breath. He chose to take it with the "Carnivore" tough hide and responded with an aggressive combination of "Fist King" in his right hand and "Snow Eater" in his left, slamming the twins down together onto the filth-covered earth. However, just before the twins were swallowed by the lethal Evil Tongue, an inserted "Hungry Horse King" bone spear picked up the girls, recovering them from the fatal range. He crushed another thrusting bone spear along with the opponent's arm using the singing voice of "Tragic Love Singer," and his stomach churned with the hunger of his meager results. There—

"BIG WAAAAAVE!!"

Directly behind Roy, the Black Snake, which had stretched its body high toward the sky, slowly fell forward like a toppling tree toward the front—where the prey were gathered. The hunt of the Black Snake, a mass of extermination so cold that even the word "malice" was too mild, was, to put it bluntly, a crude and unrefined behavior of a natural-born conqueror. Since its targets died just by having its mass scattered, it required no further refinement. It fell mercilessly toward Felt and the others—

"—Stay strong!" "Live on—!!"

A unified roar became power, pushing back the Black Snake’s filth that should have avalanched onto the earth. The strength-work specialists tore up the earth, the magic specialists reinforced that earth to act as a shield, and the technique specialists launched it to catch the Black Snake, buying a single second for the shield to dissolve before they escaped. Every single one of them displayed an impossible level of coordination and optimal action—

"————"

Resolute, brave, what audacity. With the Black Snake scattering lethal threats in their field of vision, and facing Roy, who turned the existence of the strong enemies (friends) he had fought into power, their vigor as they stepped forward without hesitation was inexplicable.

"Normally, you'd panic, or be surprised, or be terrified!"

Roy shouted at their actions, which bypassed all the shock they should have felt—confusion, surprise, and dread. Coordination better than that of family or lovers, a level of resolve and courage so extreme it seemed insane. There was no doubt. They were "finished." —A single, overly luxurious dish made of everyone. The moment he thought that, his heart leaped at the fact that there were no appetizers, side dishes, or main courses among the colorful and varied faces. Each one was equally precious and flavorful—an "only one."

As Roy’s eyes sparkled with that excitement, Felt, who had tumbled out of the smoke, flipped him the bird. She bared her sharp fangs and said,

"Don't just stand there drooling, you freak!"

"I love you guys too much, I can't help it!"

His affection for Felt, who acted as the core and gave instructions to her comrades, surged. At first, he had been angry at having his schemes betrayed, but now he was grateful for the betrayal. To be treated to such wonderful hospitality, he would lose his name as an Archbishop if he didn't return the favor.

"————"

A quick glance showed that the Black Snake’s movements were sluggish. By nature, the Black Snake was a demon beast that expanded its damage by slowly encroaching on an area with simple movements and polluting the earth without gaps. Its performance as a hunter was by no means high. There was no doubt it wasn't at its best with only one head, but even so, its movements were poor because—

"Sit... down...!"

Meili, clinging to the Hungry Horse King with her thin arms, was obstructing the Black Snake’s movements with a trembling voice. The girl, whose eyes were bloodshot, must have been suffering from the sensation of her blood burning and her soul being scorched as a reaction to overworking the Divine Protection she was granted. However, her "Divine Protection of Magic Manipulation" was interfering even with the Black Snake, one of the Three Great Demon Beasts. —Honestly, even taking that into account, the Black Snake’s reactions seemed dull.

"Since we're here! Let's! Supplement that! From this side!!"

With the feeling of praising Meili for her perfect defense rather than the Black Snake for being shut down, Roy pressed his hands together. The earth upheaved, iridescent butterflies blew it away, and a shotgun blast of filth was scattered. It was the filth of death that meant "game over" if touched. If the Black Snake’s main body was slow, he would take charge of the scattering. He repeated the explosions two, three times, performing a wide-area dispersal of the black.

"Haha, hahaha, hahahahaha!"

Of course, Roy, being at the epicenter, would be in mortal danger if he were bathed in the filth. Therefore, he coated himself in an armor of blood, maintaining a perfect posture to avoid the splashing filth. There were no humans who could dodge the rain, with a few exceptions. And since not everyone on the feast plate could be an exception, the Black Snake’s filth bombs should have mercilessly dyed the battlefield black. There was a limit to how much the prey could protect each other. Ideally, Meili would be incapacitated—

"Huh?"

A dumbfounded voice leaked from Roy’s throat as he removed his blood face guard. In his line of sight, amidst the forest rotting away from the scattered filth, was a space that had miraculously escaped damage—a scene where the gathered feast stood back-to-back, having perfectly blocked the shotgun blast of death.

"No way."

The iridescent butterflies' unblockable scales were intercepted by a wild dance of earthen buckshot.

"That shouldn't happen."

The compression that tried to crush his vision from the edges to the center was suppressed at its onset, its activation thwarted.

"I said, no way."

The foot-pinning he aimed for with a eardrum-piercing shriek was drowned out by the explosive sound created by wind and fire.

"There's no way, it shouldn't be, it can't be, and that's exactly why!!"

He overturned his "Soul’s Stomach," unsparingly wielding everything he could grasp, unleashing one natural disaster after another with the power of the Irregulars whose very fact of being feared had vanished. However, the "Aldebusters" centered around Felt continued to deal with all of it accurately, as if they were all a single living organism, responding with optimal actions.

—It was strange.

"————"

While repeatedly launching attacks that seemed to shave away at the world and common sense, Roy questioned it. No matter how you looked at it, it was strange. Certainly, they were brave. They trusted each other. Their goal was one. They were excellent and capable. They were strong.

—Even so, it was strange.

Humans cannot perform such optimized actions. Despite that, Felt and the others continued to play the most effective card from their hand at the best possible timing against every attack. Roy knew this feeling. It was Aldebaran, whom he had fought in the Prison Tower. Aldebaran, who had released the imprisoned Roy from his seal, had beaten Roy to a pulp to show the difference in their power. That inexplicability of being perfectly shut down without being able to lift a finger—it was the same as that. It was close, but different. That was ultimately the abnormality of Aldebaran alone. But this was the abnormality of the entire enemy force.

—Clearly, something was wrong.

"—Ah, I misjudged it."

An abnormality where common sense didn't apply, an irregularity that couldn't be explained by logic, an absurdity not even worth discussing. Roy, who had been subjected to these abnormal situations and whose hungry stomach was about to be filled with doubt, realized the all-too-obvious fact and cursed himself.

Because of the spirited command, he had been led to believe that the core of the enemy was Felt. Even that thought-induction of Roy’s was part of their strategy. Realizing that the true central figure was not Felt, but a mastermind hiding behind her, Roy turned his gaze in that direction. Immediately, that mastermind blinked and went "Ah"—

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—God, Buddha, Od Lagna. I swear, for the rest of my life, I will never desire to repair a relationship with anyone. —God, Buddha, Od Lagna. I swear, for the rest of my life, I will never get angry for someone else’s sake. —God, Buddha, Od Lagna. I swear, for the rest of my life, I will never reveal a secret to anyone. —God, Buddha, Od Lagna. I swear, for the rest of my life, I will never show my weakness to anyone. —God, Buddha, Od Lagna. I swear, for the rest of my life, I will never watch the sunrise with anyone.

△▼△▼△▼△

"—Did you finally notice?"

Responding thus, the "Witch of Melancholy"—who had "compressed" the thought processes of every ally present and the process of discussion to share them—closed one eye and winked.