---

Even Selian, who knew more than anyone else, wore a look of confusion at the story she was hearing for the first time.

It was a relief that her expression was one of confusion and not disgust; I was grateful for that alone.

“W-well, they don’t know, so it doesn’t matter! Besides, since we’ve gone back in time, it’s like it never happened…!”

“Do you really think it can just be forgotten? I can still vividly feel the sensation of piercing their hearts… And… can you really disregard the memories we shared, Selian?”

Just as I held my memories with her dear, she too cherished the memories we created together, leaving her speechless.

Crackle.

The speed at which the barrier, crumbling and cracking, accelerated and, coincidentally, shattered into powder just as my confession ended. Since it was a barrier magic composed of mana, it likely returned to mana.

Since the barrier had interfered with the flow of time, I could only wait for it to vanish, anxious about any unforeseen circumstances. Even if I dealt with Eden, the situation remained dire.

My leisurely conversation with Selian was over. From now on, every word spoken could end up costing someone their life.

The Demonic Beings and Demonic Monsters rampaging around weren’t the worst part. At least there were Academy students and personnel, along with a few tourists who could wield swords, standing against them.

However, the demonic race was a different story, especially the intermediate or higher-level ones.

Even though low-level Demonic Races were just a tad smarter, in terms of pure combat power, they were slightly superior to the top-tier demonic monsters.

Such a small difference was barely significant. In many cases, they could even find themselves killed by an opponent weaker than them. This was especially true in battlefields filled with erratic swords, arrows, and magic.

But things were different with intermediate Demonic Races.

By that point, the differences became clear, creating a gap that low-level beings could never hope to bridge.

They’d be at least the rank of a squad captain. Only those who encompass both talent and effort can reach such a level, making it extraordinarily difficult to simply engage in a battle with them.

To maintain a numerical advantage, there must be enough time and manpower to wear them down gradually, or someone needs to make a sacrifice.

Even safeguarding and evacuating the civilians of the city divided our forces enough to lose our numerical superiority.

Right now, my power was sufficient to confront even considerable advanced Demonic Races, but even intermediate Demonic Races remained formidable foes who should never be underestimated.

I couldn’t even gauge how many of them were rampaging within the city.

Not far away, Erin and Stella were fighting an advanced Demonic Race, no less.

Selian, already exhausted from several encounters with Eden, could hardly keep herself upright. I couldn’t leave her behind, yet standing still was no option either.

However, just as the barrier shattered, I spotted figures rushing toward us in the distance.

Professor Ferrent and Professor Selene. And the one they were protecting was Mariel.

The humanity’s hope I had forsaken in my hands.

Though she was moving slowly to match Mariel’s pace, she seemed to have spotted Selian and me and was rushing over.

“Well then… goodbye…”

As I confirmed we were at a suitable distance, I turned my back. Having retrieved all my memories, I couldn’t muster the courage to face Mariel and think of what to say. If I could avoid her, it would be better for both of us.

Selian, even if she received Mariel’s healing magic, wasn’t in a condition to chase after me.

“Ah, no! Don’t go! Please…!”

As I leaped off the ground and soared over collapsing roofs, I heard Selian’s desperate voice behind me, but I averted my gaze and hastened my footsteps. Stopping would make it even harder to leave.

—

“Ugh…! These stubborn people! Stop resisting and just die already!”

The one responsible for dropping meteorites on the city, a Demonic Race named Beatrice, was in a foul mood.

First of all, she felt her pride wounded because a human like Eden had obtained a Demonic Race’s body and was giving orders.

Fine, up to that point, she could tolerate. After all, Eden too had become a Demonic Race, and they only acted according to the logic of power.

Yet, the fact that the meteorite she meticulously prepared had been thwarted by hastily erected defensive magic completely crushed her already humbled pride.

The opponent would not have had time to prepare defenses as they had known about her magic beforehand; they must have conjured the counter in a fleeting moment upon seeing the meteorite falling.

This was pure evidence that, irrespective of mutual strength, the magician’s skill was inferior.

She had a strong urge to find that magician and rip them to shreds, but it was impossible to act due to the two standing in her way.

“Come on…! Hurry up already, Captain!”

Stella shouted, batting away another fireball aimed at Erin.

On her hands were gauntlets of such a size that could only be described as ridiculously cumbersome, far beyond mere roughness.

“……”

But Erin offered no response. A bunch of long thorny objects floated around them, forming a circle, while Erin stood at the center with her eyes shut, diligently moving her mouth and hands.

Although a fair amount of time had passed since the battle began, Erin’s chanting showed no signs of concluding.

Even with booming explosions sounding nearby, she appeared to be utterly unfazed, not pausing even slightly.

Normally, it would be sensible to target a magician who was casting magic during a battle, even if one were a complete fool.

But Erin, still unharmed through all this, hadn’t even been grazed by any attack. She seemed completely detached from the battlefield.

While Erin appeared immaculate, Stella’s situation was the complete opposite.

Her clothing was torn in several places, exposing even her underwear and skin. There were no spots on her face or limbs that hadn’t been wounded.

She had been using the gauntlets she wore to deflect every single attack launched at Erin, and if that failed, she blocked them with her own body as a last resort. Erin was unharmed thanks to Stella’s efforts.

Every spell Beatrice unleashed had not been without power, yet Stella refused to fall.

The reason she still stood despite being exhausted and riddled with scars? It was just one—she wanted to protect Erin.

Everything was left to Erin. She had to keep Erin safe until her spell finished casting.

Stella was Erin’s shield.

Although neither could defeat an enemy on their own, together there was nothing to fear.

Beatrice was near the breaking point. Ignoring the defense-focused Stella, she tried to chant her magic while Stella kept landing weak punches on her.

There was no need to exert effort to subdue her; she only needed to disrupt her spellcasting enough that she could quickly return to defense mode.

Such relentless harassment was the root of Beatrice’s growing irritation.

No matter how many magic spells she cast, it seemed like they wouldn’t fall; instead, they appeared to be hanging by a thread, which only added to her ire.

Particularly disturbing was the off-putting magical essence oozing from Eden, making even other Demonic Races and Monsters hesitate to approach, leaving Beatrice without allies from the Demon King’s army.

Considering the layout of her lengthy spell, the power was bound to be extraordinary, and the thorny objects surrounding Erin were emitting an increasingly ominous glow.

Even for an advanced Demonic Race like Beatrice, if things continued like this, her life would truly be at risk. Hence, she made a choice.

Although she’d have to live in hiding for a while, her magic might dwindle to the level of an intermediate Demonic Race, it was better than losing her life. Even a Demonic Race valued their life.

Channeling magic forcibly from the heart, the source of power, naturally brought along pain; however, picturing the two women lying lifeless made the suffering feel rather pleasurable.

Mixing her accumulated magic with the forcibly extracted magic conjured a single image in her mind.

A very sharp spear meant to puncture that foolish shield.

Stella, who would normally not give Beatrice the time to prepare an attack, suddenly found a pitch-black spear hovering above Beatrice.

Feeling the ominous flow of magical energy, Stella raised her hands defensively to shield herself.

Clearing that spear away was impossible now; like before, her single purpose was simple.

To protect Erin, even if it meant sacrificing herself.

“The only reason I’m still here instead of fleeing is because of our captain being a spinster… But I can’t let her die a spinster.”

To alleviate the tension in her body, she made a joke that no one would hear while getting back into position.

“Die.”

As Beatrice quietly spoke, an arrow of magical energy was launched without sound.

The spear reached Stella in an instant, colliding with the gauntlet she raised instead of using a shield.

As the black spear pierced the gauntlet, by now, which had absorbed blows from countless spells without a scratch, the gauntlet shattered like dust.

Not simply drilling a hole, but shattering and disintegrating it. The black spear, having slowed down only a bit, continued surging forward, never losing its target.

However, Stella would never let that black spear reach Erin.

So, hiding her relatively unharmed bare hands within the shattered gauntlet, she grasped the black spear. The searing pain from the dark magic was undeniable, yet she pressed on.

Even as her hands took injury, the black spear only slightly lost speed, still pressing toward its destination.

Stella hesitated not. If it wasn’t stopped by armor or hands, she would throw her own body.

The black spear aimed for her abdomen. The pain, incomparably greater than what she felt earlier, nearly made her lose consciousness, but remembering Erin calmly chanting behind her, she couldn’t allow herself to faint.

Stella found a strange appreciation for the wretched blood of the Demonic Monsters flowing through her veins. The regenerative blessing from that blood slightly aided her in keeping her consciousness intact.

Again, the speed of the black spear diminished.

Still piercing through Stella, it seemed to inch toward Erin at a snail’s pace.

However, thanks to Stella’s determination, the black spear, even with her gut pierced, finally lost its momentum right in front of Erin.

Just then, Erin’s long-closed eyes opened.

“Who’s calling me a spinster!”

Erin’s outcry was completely detached from the urgency of the situation, yet Stella found herself thrilled by it. Though she’d receive some nagging later, she could bear that much.

“…Do you know that I love our captain? If you’d told me earlier, I could have acted sooner.”

With Erin unharmed, and her chant completed, Stella collapsed to the ground. Every nerve and cell in her body was devoted to recovery, making it difficult to even speak.

Instead, she managed to finally pull the black spear from her abdomen and lay on the ground, gazing at the now proudly standing Erin.

“You… dared to lay a hand on my subordinate?”

“What do you mean ‘lay a hand’? Let’s use proper language here.”

“Shut up!”

At Erin’s hysterical voice, Stella immediately fell silent, as it would have been foolish to say anything further. It was evident that she would regret it later if she said anything more now.

Although a scolding had already been reserved, the fewer criticisms, the better.

Erin, too, was seething. Though Stella’s role was to protect her, seeing her so close to death was hardly pleasant.

Feeling this way, Erin raised her hand.

The thorns encircling them began to rise slowly into the sky, following her lead.

If Stella was the strongest shield, then she was the strongest spear.

Demonic Races’ spears could not pierce the strongest shield.

Thus, they would show the strongest spear.

With her descending hand, the thrumming spikes shot out at an unimaginable speed toward Beatrice.

—

It’s quite rare for a magician to confront the enemy directly in battle.

The reason is simple; while they cast their spells, they are left exposed to attacks.

Sure, some magicians are adept at no incantation or rapid incantation, but true power lies in the preparation.

This is true for anything involving incantations or magic circles.

Every magician is unique, so one can’t precisely judge; however, there is one absolute truth. At least, a magician’s power is directly proportional to their preparation.

Though limits may exist depending on the wielder of magic, Erin specialized in this direction.

Then, what of Erin’s magic that had been continuously cast throughout the fight?

Beatrice, who stood opposing Erin, perfectly demonstrated the answer.

The spikes launched pierced through Beatrice’s hands, legs, heart, and various parts of her body, embedding themselves into the ground.

Thanks to the robust physique unique to advanced Demonic Races, Beatrice was still squirming and clinging to life, but Erin’s onslaught wasn’t yet over.

She hadn’t spoken those long incantations just to pierce her with a few spikes.

With a light flick of her fingers raised high,

Bang!

The strongest spear fell from the heavens, piercing through Beatrice.

The lightning, composed of magic, illuminated the surroundings blindingly, but was eerily silent otherwise.

Yet, the outcome could be nothing but noisy.

After witnessing Beatrice, charred black, Erin slowly sank to the ground like Stella, collapsing beside her.

Having forced her way through the lengthy chant for the sake of fighting an advanced Demonic Race, the fatigue was understandable.

Worries of being ambushed in such a vulnerable state loomed over her, but if they had been attacked while fighting Beatrice, they would have been swarmed long ago.

Although she lacked the strength to even move a finger, Erin, uninjured from exhaustion, and Stella, blessed with regeneration, would be able to recover enough to manage the situation with just a bit of rest.

So just then, when they felt at ease.

Beatrice’s charred body began to twitch. Erin and Stella remained completely oblivious, and even if they were aware, they would have struggled to respond.

What pushed Beatrice to crawl forward despite being on the brink of death was an obsession born from the irritation that gathered since the initial ambush.

Though her body was nearing its end, the fury of a Demonic Race could keep it alive long enough to defer death.

The spikes that had penetrated Beatrice due to the lightning were now reduced to dust, scattered.

Slowly, slowly, Beatrice began to crawl toward the two who lay half-fainted on the ground.

Even as an enemy, that single-mindedness was commendable. However,

Thud.

A sword pierced her back.

Now reduced to a pile of ash, Beatrice became a cloud of dust, carried away by the wind, the sacred power of the Holy Sword having caused her to combust.

What a pitiful demise for an advanced Demonic Race.