"Can we have another wonderful adventure like this?"

"Can we have another wonderful adventure like this?"

Amid thunderous applause and cheers, the grand departure of the Demon King Subjugation Squad—the Hero Party—began. Their destination was the northern Snowfragrance Mountains, where the Demon King's castle lay. A chilling name for the range piled high with snow that reeked of blood.

Rapelon trailed at the party's rear, a backpack larger than himself strapped on, following Lord Rosel's orders to give his all as a porter. The Hero Party was bound solely by the 'fate' of subjugating the Demon King.

"Once it's all over, I'm gonna travel the kingdom! It'll be an awesome trip, right?! What do you think, Rapelon?"

"Heh, this feels like it's gonna be one hell of an adventure! The Demon King must be crazy strong, huh?"

"Haa~ The air's so fresh. I can't even tell you how happy I am to be with you all!"

"Urgh! Everyone okay?! I'll hold them off—fall back!"

"Haa, that was close. You good, Rapelon? Nobody hurt? Oh, this? It's nothing! A scratch like this is fine—I'm just glad you guys are safe."

"If you're all okay, then I'm okay! Don't worry, this is nothing for me!"

The hero Emilia was a woman full of affection, with unmatched chivalry and a thirst for adventure. When danger struck, she always stood at the vanguard, sacrificing for the party—and she never hesitated to take wounds protecting even a lowly commoner porter like him. She was one hell of a hero.

And Biela, Daltan, Gleon—they all followed her lead faithfully, uniting to overcome hardships and trials.

That's why Rapelon had once agonized over his faith in Lord Rosel. He couldn't believe such an ideal party, such perfect camaraderie, would shatter.

"Kyaa~! We won! We did it! Biela, Daltan, Gleon, Rapelon! We really saved the kingdom! It's all thanks to you guys~!"

But after felling the Demon King, they changed. Emilia stayed the same, but they... they were different.

"Heh, now we cash in our rewards and hit the road~! What about you guys? Can we have another wonderful adventure like this? I wish you'd come too, Rapelon!"

Emilia dreamed brightly and cheerfully. But the party members' faces weren't so bright. And Rapelon felt endless pity for Emilia, facing another 'fate' so slowly.

He'd prayed Rosel's prophecy was wrong. Prayed Emilia wouldn't get hurt. But his prayers went unanswered.

As they neared the capital, the party began shunning Emilia. Smiles that once warmed turned cold and rigid. Only Emilia smiled innocently still.

She couldn't see it. But Rapelon, knowing the end, could. His heart twisted in dread.

Knowing the scripted tragedy hurt like hell. Seeing pure Emilia crumble was heartbreaking.

But as Rosel said, there was nothing he could do. Just stay by her side, laughing so her smile never faded.

"Haa~ We'll reach the capital tomorrow! What're you gonna do with your rewards, Rapelon? You'll get heaps of gold and jewels, for sure."

"...."

Rapelon couldn't even smile at Emilia's hopeful dreams. Knowing the tragedy starting tomorrow, he couldn't muster a bitter grin.

He spoke his final words to her wistfully.

"...Tomorrow, a new life begins."

"Hehe, a new life. Sounds nice!"

With that, Rapelon left the party. To Rosel's territory, for a new life saving his comrade.

To the royal palace, for a new life hurtling toward tragedy—Emilia followed her path.

Each went their separate ways.

"Kyaaah—! W-what are you...!"

Rapelon glared at Biela, where their paths converged. His lips, once lightly curved, straightened. His gentle eyes sharpened.

He understood. As Rosel said, betrayal for survival. The king's word was absolute law.

But he couldn't forgive crushing a comrade's purity after sharing life and death.

"What's wrong? Weren't you desperately looking for me? Not happy to see me?"

As Rapelon's piercing gaze advanced a step, Biela retreated one. Another. Another. Until—thud—she hit something, blocked.

Her head snapped back with a jerk, a chill like the reaper behind her.

"...This isn't a place for you to run."

"Kyaaak—!!"

Looking up at Rosel's shadowed face, Biela freaked and fled. No hiding spots, of course.

She screamed, plastering herself to the wall between Rapelon and Rosel.

"D-don't come closer! Rapelon, what the hell?! When did you suck up to Duke Rosel?!"

Rapelon smirked theatrically, shrugging. A gesture saying she was the one who'd latched on—not him.

Rosel stepped forward in his stead.

"I'll give you one last chance."

"...W-what?! What is this?! You stole Rapelon?!"

"That doesn't matter. Last question. Do you regret betraying Emilia?"

"What? B-betray?!"

Like facing an omniscient god exposing her ugly innards without denial, Biela's eyes widened.

'Betrayal.' That tearful, mustard-bitter act she'd buried under flimsy guilt. She'd called it 'survival,' not betrayal. The saintess's oracle was truth in the absolute theocracy; the king's command, law in the absolute monarchy.

But Duke Rosel had seen so far ahead, hiding Rapelon. Like the oracle was a step below.

It felt like dancing on his scripted stage. No—she had been.

Hiding Rapelon meant he'd pierced it all before it began.

Despair. Awe. Like the god descended.

Only repentance or utter damnation. Absolute terror.

But Biela didn't kneel easily. If she'd regretted, she wouldn't have stabbed Emilia's back.

Denying now was foolish. Better push a scheme than childish tantrum.

Biela switched from fear to a sly smirk, one corner of her mouth curling viciously.

"Betrayal? Got proof I betrayed? This was judged by His Majesty and the Saintess herself! Hiding Rapelon and plotting means you're rebelling against the king?!"

"Haa..."

Rosel sighed at Biela's pathetic scheming, failing to grasp the situation.

Before his final card, he'd planned mercy if she admitted, repented—considering her merits in saving the kingdom. Emilia's call on punishment, of course.

But this? Mercy might crack.

"Proof...? Think I'd bend to that?"

"Pfft, threatening without proof? Ridiculous. And even if Rapelon testifies now, you think that'll mitigate anything?"

"...."

"Who'd believe Rapelon's 'lies'? With the saintess's oracle—who'd buy it? Hers is truth, his lies!"

"...."

Rosel looked at Biela with pity. Her blindness to the changing world was lamentable.

Opportunity doesn't come to all. Folklore said three chances in life. If true, she'd blown her third.

Pity filled Rosel's eyes sincerely.

"...Pity. No more questions. You truly wasted your last chance. Stubborn before Rapelon, who knows the truth—means you're beyond redemption."

With a tone of deep regret, Rosel walked to the opposite wall.

Rapelon, arms crossed, pitied her too. He knew her stubbornness was foolishly tightening her own noose.

Click.

Rosel opened the bookshelf door from before—the one with the mana ring—revealing a secret space shrouded in darkness.

No need to hide now. This was the 'final card.'

Biela's anxious eyes tracked Rosel's every move.

Moments later, he emerged from the dark. Something in hand.

Biela's pupils dilated, plummeting into abyss.

"T-that...!?"

Instinctively, she glanced at Rapelon. Unforgettable. The necklace Rapelon wore always—even sleeping, eating.

She'd scolded, 'Is that necklace that precious?' Now Rosel held it from the secret space.

Doom approaching. Extreme unease gripped her—like Emilia that day.

Rapelon smirked at her.

"You remember. You scolded me, 'Is that necklace that precious to you?'"

"W-why's it in Duke Rosel's hand?! Your mother's heirloom!!"

"You believed that?"

"W-what...?"

Like Biela mocked Emilia's 'faith' in court that day—so Rapelon mocked Biela's 'faith' here.

Feel faith denied. Feel betrayal's bitter despair.

For that day's Emilia, Rapelon glared.

"It's an object Lord Rosel gave me. Called... the Record Object."

"Re-Record Object...? What does it record...?"

Biela looked back at Rosel. Terror like a massive tidal wave blocking her path. Sheer cliff behind—no escape, swallowed by foam.

Her legs shook. Rosel extracted the gem, inserted it into a small device—Biela buckled, knees giving. Couldn't stand.

"Ah... Aah..."

"With Rapelon's testimony and the Record Object's truth, the oracle's lie will be exposed to all."

"E-even then, His Majesty won't acknowledge it...!"

"Brikal's acknowledgment isn't needed. I'm not seeking to convince him."

"Ah...."

The Record Object. Rosel's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠meticulous prep for this day, five years saving Emilia.

As the journey's Emilia emerged from darkness—pure, vibrant, beautiful—Biela was swallowed by the wave, plummeting off the cliff.

Thud.

"S-stop...!"

Forgotten, buried memories. Emilia's past self crumbling her utterly. Tears flowed.

Rosel, who'd replayed it hundreds of times, wore a somber expression, emotions surging at her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠true form.

He looked down at Biela.

"Stop, please stop... Hic... ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Hiccup..."

Kneeling, Rosel lifted Biela's chin, tears of regret streaming.

"Hic..."

"...Do you finally understand? I'll give you all equal chances. For that day's Emilia. But you've just thrown yours away."

"Hic... S-sorry... I'm sorry... I was wrong. Truly sorry, hic... Hiccup..."

"Too late. Think choosing you as dance partner for your debut was coincidence?"

"Y-yes...?"

Releasing her stunned chin, Rosel stood. Biela realized she couldn't escape his scripted play. Tears poured endlessly.

"I-I'm sorry... Hic... Sorry, really sorry... Hic... I betrayed Emilia, yes... Hiccup..."

Thus, Biela knelt at last before 'Emilia's smile on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the journey' she'd fled.

"Sorry, sorry... Hic... Hiccup... Forgive me... Hic... Please... I was wrong... Hic..."

..

..

"Can we have another wonderful adventure like this?"

—fin.