Sisilia's Powerless Sword Cleaves the Abyssal Depths
In the crushing darkness of the deep sea under hundreds of atmospheres, Sisilia's Heaven-Breaking Powerless Sword sliced through the ocean like a straight beam of light. Whoosh— She walked the path momentarily carved open in the parted sea. The faint air membrane enveloping her body shattered as her mana bottomed out from unleashing the Heaven-Breaking Powerless Sword. Her silver hair grew soaked from the downpour of rain falling from above. Sisilia shook her head to fling off the water, then swept her hair behind her ears as she checked the spot where 'Maui' had appeared.
"Maui."
The black stain writhed.
"Maui."
But the stain didn't progress beyond writhing. Sisilia plunged her sword into Maui's remains. Crack— Fragments spawned from the torn space around it and fell away.
"Maui."
As she called out with deliberate presence, the stain quaked like it was throwing a tantrum.
Still not dead, huh.
According to Freya, Maui was immortal.
Even if it used the sea, surviving my Extreme Art means it's the being closest to a demon god.
If that was true, even in this state of mere scraps, it would eventually regenerate. Though that would take— at least a few centuries, probably.
Sisilia skewered Maui with her sword, then shoved it through to the other side of the rift. The moment she withdrew her blade from the space, it self-repaired, sealing the hole.
"Go face the goddess yourself."
That was right, wasn't it? Sisilia nodded with a wobble and staggered. Glancing up at the sky, she saw the sea—now twin colossal walls—crashing back together.
"Achoo."
……She was definitely catching a cold. With a hazy expression, Sisilia chewed on a mana herb.
***
"The imperial succession is tilting toward the crown prince instead of the princess?"
The novice empress Lydia trailed off at the headache-inducing news.
"Should I drop Sisinyang on them?"
"Wouldn't that just lead to annihilation?"
Erterion said it dead seriously. After seeing Sisilia's recent display of prowess, it felt entirely plausible.
"My gut says the empire crumbles the instant the crown prince ascends. But like you said, sending Sisinyang feels like it'd doom us too."
Eldrasion mustn't fall yet, was Lydia's creed.
The truce had shattered, and war had just broken out in earnest. The full invasion hadn't started, but hadn't they learned the current Demon King wasn't one to take it easy? There was no time to look elsewhere. This winter would be far harsher than any before.
"Next reliable option is Edward, then—"
"Your Majesty, shouldn't you give Edward a chance too? He disappointed you, but no one matches his skill and intellect."
"Leave the inside to Sisilia and the outside to Edward? But, but—"
Lydia stomped her feet and groaned. A strong hunch told her Edward going to the empire was a bad idea. Even without that, his insatiable lust for power might lead him to swallow the empire whole. He'd long pushed for dominating it, after all. If his influence grew that vast, Sisinyang would— Sisinyang—
Lydia clutched her complicated head.
"Being empress was a mistake. The name's pretty, but the work's multiplied tenfold. I've served three hundred years, you know."
"No whining. Next task."
"Have you no heart?!"
Lydia sniffled. Erterion glanced at the sky-high stack of papers on his desk.
"Duke Eisenberg says screw the empire—send reinforcements before the demons overrun us."
He set the papers down.
"And enough overworking your guardian knight. My job is protecting Your Majesty, not sharing paperwork. ……It's an honorary position, even!"
The unpaid slave Erterion grew indignant mid-sentence. Lydia looked sheepish, then grinned mischievously.
"Help me, Eremong. I can't do it alone."
"……What's Eremong now?"
"Sisinyang's nickname style. Cute, right?"
"Act your age……! You're not some 17-year-old girl!"
Oof, it hurts a bit, but I diverted the topic.
Three centuries of political mastery didn't fade. Change the subject when cornered—best tactic ever. Lydia straightened up and resolved the northern issue.
"Tell Duke Eisenberg we're dispatching ten Windsor Knights. He's already got one high knight, so we'll fill with regulars."
"That enough?"
"Reaper may be gloomy, but his skills satisfied him. And he's third in the Windsor Knights' high knight ranks—he'll make do."
With Sisilia promoted to vice-captain, the Windsor Knights now had six high knights. Among them, the Reaper was a monster no one could beat one-on-one. Duke Eisenberg specialized in mass battles, so they paired perfectly.
"Given the times, shouldn't we summon Sir Gallerhead too?"
And the high knight rank one: Sword Emperor Gallerhead. He'd long been deemed Sword Sovereign material—but lingered at Sword Emperor due to unmet 'conditions.' Namely, his absurd laziness.
"Yeah, probably. He wouldn't even know what's happening. To drag Sir Gallerhead out, we'd need Sisilia or Edward. Captain leaving now's awkward, so again, Sisinyang."
Lydia smiled awkwardly. Erterion scratched his head.
Just then, a maid knocked and entered.
"Sisilia Windsor requests an audience."
"……Perfect timing. Probably about the nameless one. Yes. Have her come now."
"Yes."
The maid shut the door, and Erterion sighed.
"Your Majesty, aren't you burdening Sisilia too much?"
"……I'm sorry too, but no choice. She needs to reach Sword Sovereign as soon as possible."
Maybe she's already beyond that.
Sisilia was only seventeen. Reaching Sword Emperor was already absurdly early—Sword Sovereign? Unthinkable. But Lydia's intuition peered further.
"Sisilia can slay the nameless one. That's my hunch. Though whether it's her fate or Gallerhead's, I can't say."
"Ah."
Erterion's face lit with realization. Lydia's hunches skipped steps. That's why her first prophecy raised doubts. Countless lives lost to the nameless one—including Sword Emperors. But with overwhelming high knight number one Gallerhead joining Sisilia, it matched.
"If Sisilia hunts the nameless one with vacationing Sir Gallerhead, it'd be a fight worth watching."
"That's purely up to Sisinyang, though."
"……Harsh."
"We'll know once we hear her out."
As Lydia finished, Sisilia entered. Lydia and Erterion were stunned. Sisilia was wrapped head to toe in bandages, leaning on crutches.
She staggered to Lydia, saluted, and said,
"Attacked by a mysterious assailant. Took injuries. Dying to thrash the nameless one—sky-high as Betty—but as you see, I'm in no shape. Requesting sick leave. Edppi fretted big-time, petted me, told me to stay put and rest."
Face unchanging, Sisilia spun her lie, then coughed weakly and sniffled. Fake-coughed a few times, then murmured wistfully,
"Caught a cold, throat hurts. No arguments."
"……."
The two fell silent before Sisilia's otherworldly speech, even before the empress. But Sisilia stood tall. Because the cold was real. Pro tip: mix truth into lies for perfect deception. Sisilia beamed inwardly at her brilliant plan.
"Cough cough."
Didn't forget the coughs.
Perfect. Drag time 'hunting' the gone nameless one, drown newbies in invasions meanwhile.
Then 'searched everywhere, but no nameless one' ending. Escape loli queen's suspicions, lick newbies—divine move.
Meanwhile, Lydia smirked meaningfully, like something fun occurred to her. Sisilia felt uneasy for no reason.
Then Lydia scowled fiercely.
"Daring to lie before the empress. You know the penalty, vice-captain?"
"……!"
Not her usual soft empress—Sisilia panicked hard.
"N-no lie! I really hurt…!"
"Tsk, still at it! Want a spanking?!"
Lydia pointed at her head.
"Look at my crown."
Her pale golden hair stood stiffly.
"How many strands?"
"T-two."
"Proof you're lying. What are you waiting for! Sir Erterion! Grab Sisinyang and spank her butt!"
That's too forced, even for you?
Erterion gawked, but Sisilia's reaction shocked.
"I-I'm sowwy……."
Tears streaming, she wailed pitifully. Innocent where it counted.
***
"What a horrific sight."
Four Heavenly King Jahar. He gazed down at the crumbling empire from the northern skies.
"How can something wearing human skin commit such atrocities?"
His pitch-black pupils lingered on the ashen rubble before Roendel Fortress. How many demons had perished there? Their defenseless deaths were neither honorable nor acceptable. Grind— Jahar clenched his molars. The red tattoos scarring his face seemed to weep.
"I won't forgive you, Sisilia Windsor."
He'd make her suffer the worst life imaginable. Death was too merciful. She must slowly agonize over her own atrocities till she died. Dye her fleeting human life in regret. That was Jahar's punishment.
Live regretting your massacre of demons. If you have family, I'll slaughter them. Friends? I'll kill them too. Rip apart what's dearest and show you. Yes—like that foolish human back then. Chiron Windsor.
"I'll carry your grudges. I, Jahar, king of eternal annihilation—"
Jahar extended his hand. A spell invoking souls of the dead within the past month as tribute. Soul Offering.
His blood-stained magic circle blanketed the empire. His lips curled naturally.
"Such bountiful tribute."
In demon history across humanity's span—no greater offering existed.
Jahar's laugh pierced the heavens. Four hundred thousand. Demon and human souls combined—four hundred thousand gathered. The mana gained was cataclysmic.
"Demon God."
Jahar was certain. A god receiving such souls would be sated.
"Your lowly servant beseeches."
He spread his arms. Infinite gratitude to the Demon God who created him. And to Demon King Cain, who orchestrated this bounty.
"Send a being to spill all this world's blood, burn every star!"
Definitely 'that one.' With this tribute, the Demon God will send 'it.'
Jahar's smile deepened. He sought only one: forsaken by the goddess, cursing her most. Soul erased, yet flesh enduring to slay all who remembered it. Its power—'beyond specs,' history's strongest fiend.
Come, Maui!
The moment of subjugation, human war became trivial against that might.
Jahar glanced aside, eyes gleaming. Crunch—! Space yawned. From endless abyss, 'it' approached. Jahar reverently cupped the rift with both hands.
Urk! And space vomited something.
"……?"
Jahar blinked. In his palms, a black slime-jelly quivered like slime.
"Th-this…… Maui?"
His black eyes shrank to dots.