The Star That Drinks Nebulae
Fwoosh!
Fully armed, Agnes raised his spear of fire.
The spear was neither as massive nor as fiercely ablaze as it had once been.
The closer one draws to the extreme, the more ordinary it appears.
Agnes knew.
The power of this spear would surpass any force he had ever unleashed upon the middle realm.
A child with talent so absurd he could forcibly summon him. The First Fire that child carried had left its mark even on Agnes.
So of course it was absurd.
The Spirit King of Fire, who had lived through eons of ages. Never once had he been overwhelmed by a summoner—and yet.
Whoosh!
He threw the spear.
It flew with deliberate slowness—and pierced the Locked Hand of God dead center.
—KRAAAAAH!
The Locked Hand of God made its final, thrashing bid for survival. Countless black hands burst from its head and reached for the children.
They never touched them.
Fwoosh!
Before they could close the distance, they were already burning down to ash.
—Th-this! I can't vanish so meaninglessly...!
It vanished.
It was being annihilated outright. A spear of negation that erased existence itself—that wiped the root clean away.
The first time I've ever wielded it in the middle realm.
Something even those who had summoned him in the distant past had never achieved. This spear of negation was the very foundation of Agnes's power.
And so interest stirred—in the boy.
It was the first time he had ever felt interest in anyone like this.
—I am a god!
Agnes merely smirked.
A god, was it.
Could something like that truly be called a god?
As the Spirit King of Fire, Agnes had grasped its true nature in an instant.
Undeserving.
It was no god. A parasite born of polluted honor. Nothing more than a worm.
Even its name was the Locked Hand of God, was it not.
A spear too fine to waste on a false, negated worm that merely aped divinity—but Agnes wanted to show it. To the boy who was his summoner, he wanted to show his power.
Then Agnes turned his gaze upon the demon.
The Demon of Pride. The worm he had just destroyed had almost certainly been that demon's handiwork.
No matter how the ages turned and the world changed, a demon was still a demon. A mere demon had no right to speak of divinity. That filthy essence never changed.
So he warned it. Do not dare approach. Crawl upon the ground as befits a demon.
"……"
The Demon of Pride—King Friedrich—his expression hardened to stone.
Swaaah.
He turned his back and vanished into the dark.
"Weren't you going to deal with that demon too?"
At Isera's question, Agnes shook his head.
—Do not get involved with that one.
It was not a question of finishing it off. There was nothing good to be gained from tangling with demons—Pride least of all. Moreover, divinity and light could not completely kill that creature. Only one who possessed a darkness more extreme than the darkness it carried could manage that.
Above all, the heart that was Pride's true body was not here.
Once the situation settled, Lucaria raised an index finger, pointed straight at Agnes, and declared:
"Burning pervert uncle!"
—……
Tremble—!
Pride shook.
To suffer such humiliation. Unexpected as the situation had been, he had still turned his back and fled.
The First Fire and Agnes…!
His teeth ground of their own accord.
To him, the Balan Kingdom had been nothing more—and nothing less—than a plaything to toy with. Who could have imagined that such monsters lurked in so meager a kingdom? Had he known, he would never have set foot there.
Does he truly claim to be a guardian of the Heavenly Realm?
In raw ability, he was fully a match for one. And yet understanding still eluded him. He could not fathom why a guardian of the Heavenly Realm would be in the middle realm at all—much less why one would appear before him. He had not yet done anything that would move the heavens.
I am no longer what I once was.
The Demon of Pride looked down at his own hands. Both trembled faintly. The instinct of a demon faced with divinity. In ages long past, demons had not even been permitted to look up at the sky.
Pride clenched his jaw. Then, slowly, he raised his eyes to the heavens.
"I am not afraid of you. I do not fear you."
Damn it all.
The words leaving his mouth and the reaction of his body were exact opposites. The memory driven deep into his bones showed no sign of fading. He had told himself he was no longer what he had been—that he had seized power greater even than theirs—and still he was afraid. Still he feared. Had it been otherwise, he would never have turned his back and fled like this.
Greed. How did you overcome this terror?
He had kept his distance, calling the creature dull—but now he genuinely wanted to know. How had that one conquered this instinctive dread and still gone to war with the gods, time and again?
And then there was the boy who held a fire not yet complete. Had he truly wished it, killing him would not have been impossible.
If it had only been the two of them, perhaps.
The boy who carried the First Fire, and Agnes. Facing those two alone, he would not have been pressed too hard. If he could not close with them, he could simply tempt them in secret and corrupt them. Was that not a demon's proper work?
The problem lay elsewhere. Those two had not been alone.
That girl…
The image of the girl's eyes rose before him, and Pride clenched and unclenched his fist again and again.
……Because it had sent a chill through him.
What in the world was that girl?
"Nngh……"
Serengeti opened her eyes.
She came fully alert at once and swept her surroundings.
Why was I asleep?
Yajam, the King Slayer. She had severed his neck, and then the Locked Hand of God had appeared. She had been fighting it when her memory cut off. When she opened her eyes again, she was here.
A bedchamber in the royal palace…
Why was she lying here? What had become of that monster?
"Ooooh! The Goddess of Victory has opened her eyes!"
"OOOOOOH!"
Goddess of Victory?
It was not one or two voices. The entire castle—inside and out—was in an uproar. The cheers were so fierce her hips nearly bounced with them.
"Have you awakened?"
Marquis Weiser entered the bedchamber. The King of Balan came with him.
"……What is the meaning of this?"
"Hmm. You do not remember? Well—given a battle of that intensity……"
The King of Balan stroked his white beard and continued.
"You alone defeated every knight of King Friedrich. Serengeti, Pure White Knight. There is no one left who would dispute that you are the foremost knight of this kingdom."
"Pardon?"
"Is there something you desire? I mean to grant you a title and lands first, of course…… but that will hardly be enough. Speak if there is anything you want. If it is within my power, I shall grant it all."
"…Your Majesty. Are you saying that I defeated the Locked Hand of God?"
"The Locked Hand of God? What is that?"
Something was wrong. He seemed to have no memory of the monster at all.
Only then could Serengeti recover the memory of that moment.
The children!
……Ah.
Children who had appeared from nowhere. What had they been? Where had they gone?
"Hmm. It seems your body and mind have not yet settled. Rest easy."
"It is not that."
"It is fine. You did expose yourself a little, but no one will fault you for it. If anyone does, I as king will not forgive them."
"…Expose myself? What do you mean?"
"I speak of the moment of your awakening. Your entire body burned, and your clothes and armor burned with it…… It is fine. Perfectly fine."
"……Pardon?"
What burned?
Her clothes and armor had burned? Then all those soldiers had seen her bare flesh?
But she had no such memory whatsoever. Not unless someone had manipulated the memories of an entire crowd.
"Haha. The Goddess of Victory. A great blessing upon our Balan Kingdom. Is that not so, Marquis Weiser?"
"It is, Your Majesty."
What was this atmosphere?
Bemused beyond words, Serengeti blinked.
"Long live the Goddess of Victory!"
"Long live Serengeti, the Pure White Knight!"
"Long live the true Pure White Knight!"
Whether she understood or not, the crowd outside kept roaring like a wildfire.
King Friedrich had withdrawn!
The rumor spread like wildfire.
The Iron Kingdom had been conquering the Eastern Continent with unstoppable force. For its king to take even a single step back was unprecedented—and against the meager Balan Kingdom, no less.
The entire continent began to go wild for the Balan Kingdom.
"……Damn it all to hell!"
Thud!
In the council chamber of the Hero Council, Drakestar kicked the table.
"Has the King of Balan lost his mind?"
……It was enough to make a man leap out of his skin.
After King Friedrich withdrew, the King of Balan had issued a formal proclamation.
The Tower of Magic—and the Hero Council! Had it not been for their betrayal, the Great Expedition would have succeeded! The Knight King would not have died! Therefore I, the King of Balan, and the Balan Kingdom, declare our fury! People of the realm—do not be deceived by the lies of those fled traitors! They are no heroes, but cowards and cravens who deserve only condemnation! Our Balan Kingdom hereby names those false heroes as public enemies!
He had named the Tower of Magic and their own Hero Council as the traitors of the Great Expedition.
Had he gone mad? He had to have gone truly mad!
Ordinarily they would have dismissed it as nonsense. Whatever the King of Balan said, his power did not reach the Hero Council's.
But not now.
The Balan Kingdom now possessed the strength to drive back King Friedrich himself.
"Serengeti…… the Pure White Knight has returned from the dead! What is she, a phoenix?!"
And all of it by a single person. By Serengeti alone.
As Drakestar ranted, Lucifer—who had been listening in silence—spoke.
"It is not Serengeti alone. Saintess Seia is there as well. With the two of them together, the King of Balan's words carry weight they cannot help but carry."
The two who had been reported dead on the Great Expedition. Both had returned from the grave. With those two—who had served as the Knight King's closest aides—standing at the King of Balan's side, everyone in Pangenia had no choice but to take the king's words as truth.
The aftershock was anything but small. Before they could even prepare, they had been branded the Knight King's betrayers in an instant. They had denied it aggressively, and it had not worked at all. There was no one left in Pangenia who would believe their lies any longer.
Seated again, Drakestar bounced his leg and chewed savagely at his fingers.
"We need a plan."
"……The Goddess Sect has withdrawn all support and is demanding reparations. Our exchanges with the kingdoms are being cut off, and the great merchant houses are shunning trade with us."
It was hard to imagine anything worse. In the wake of the King of Balan's announcement, the Hero Council had been isolated. They had lost their footing in Pangenia in a heartbeat. Forget finding a plan—if things continued this way, even remaining in Pangenia would become impossible. Settling the Goddess Sect's reparations alone would bankrupt them.
And that was not all. The kingdoms that had maintained alliances were sealing their warps one by one. The trading companies they dealt with were pulling out every hand and suspending all commerce, and every soul in Pangenia was pointing fingers at them.
If this went on, they would wither. They would dry up and die.
They had to find a way to live—an answer.
There is no answer.
No matter how hard he thought, there was none. He turned it over and over in his head, and it was the same. And then, all at once, the same thought settled in every mind present.
……That there simply was no answer. No method existed to break through this crisis.
The false heroes. Shadows fell across their faces.
A dream. Yes—this had to be a dream.
Thud!
Drakestar kicked the table again and sent it flying.
"AAAAAAARGH!!! This goddamn—! Damn it all to hell……!!!"
Deep in the Abyss.
I walked on without pause, conversing with Isabella as I went.
How long had we been walking?
The Star That Drinks Nebulae is searching for you.
What?
I stopped short in spite of myself.
The Star That Drinks Nebulae.
That was the star I had sought more desperately than any other—the strongest star that represented Wilhelm himself!