The glow of a single camp light flickered along the roadway.
Even without a horse, as long as you skillfully divided up the distance, the trip to Aureatia didn't require an overnight camp. That day, however, the calculations were thrown off a little bit.
Yuno the Distant Talon still wasn't accustomed to traveling. Journeying together with a visitor who couldn't adapt to the common sense of this world, Soujirou the Willow-Sword, they were wandering through various regions under Aureatia's orders.
This time, Soujirou was apparently nominated to act in Kazuki the Black Tone's stead, after she failed to conquer the Free City of Okafu, and headed out to present himself to the Twenty-Seventh General Hardy, in command of said operation. However, as soon as the two arrived, there had been some sort of understanding reached higher up the command chain, and Soujirou never had the chance to participate in the operation to conquer the city. A complete waste of a trip, for Yuno as well.
The man she shared her journey with was covered up with a simple sleeping bag, a bit removed from where she was. Beside him, a Nagan training sword was offhandedly lying on the ground.
"…I wish I had studied more. About what tools you need to make camp or about gathering plants and berries… I never had left Nagan before, after all."
"Hmm? Don't seem like a big deal to me. Ain't no beasts around, neither.
Just relax and get some sleep; it'll do ya good."
Soujirou seemed very accustomed to suddenly setting up camp like this. For Yuno, having heard the civilization of the Beyond was far more advanced than in her world, it was a rather surprising fact about him.
Yuno asked a question that suddenly popped into her mind. "…What was it like before you came to this world?" "Huh?"
"You've taught me about it before, didn't you? The M1 Abrams… You said it was a tank from another country, right? I just wondered what the Beyond was like…including that tank stuff, too."
"Ah well, see… Truth is, I ain't really know much myself." "...?"
Twenty-one years earlier.
The True Demon King appeared, spreading despair across the land, and it was the final era where people held some hope that, someday, someone would appear to end their torment.
"S-stop… Stop, please! I'll die! I'm going to die! You'll kill me!"
There were ruins where the voices of the living had long died out. A crazed wurm chased after a young boy, its rough scales smashing through the ruins of the city like a fire. The other residents who had lived there up until a small month ago, though still minian in appearance, were no longer minian in their hearts and minds.
Up ahead of where the boy desperately tried to make his escape, a mountain of crumbling debris blocked his path.
"Aaaaaaah?!"
He roughly scratched at his vibrant red hair.
This was going to be the end. He truly believed this was it.
The wurm, exuding a stench of blood and rotten flesh, opened its mouth wide…and it was impossible to hope that any help would come to his aid. This land was under the control of the True Demon Lord, after all.
"Aaah… Gaaah, enough! I really will die!"
A track of light rushed in far faster than the wurm could consume its prey. The spearhead seemed to have grazed the inside of the wurm's mouth as it flew by it.
The young boy landed, pulling a small trail of blood spatter behind him, and the colossus, still under the momentum of its attack, dug into the earth before it came to halt.
"Hah…hahhh… Dammit...…! What the hell am I supposed to do if I die, huh?! I'm doing my damn best out here, too, you know… Right? I'm working hard. Nothing but this, every day! Everyone under the stars comes at me trying to kill me… What reason is there to do this to me?!"
Using his red spear to prop himself up, he panted. A young genius of spear
craft. At the time, there weren't many who knew the name Alena the Benighted White Wind.
"Hwah, hee-hee-hee-hee!"
On top of a stone fence was a young girl who had watched over the fight sequence. She remained seated as she clapped her hands together and laughed.
"Whew, you're as impressive as ever, huh! You really sure you're a minia?!" "Lu…Lumelly… Were you watching the whole time?! Watching me?! As I
almost died?!"
"'Almost died'? Gimme a break."
Her black hair, giving her a sense of composure, swayed as a nasty smile crept across her face.
She was a young elf girl known as Lumelly the Poisoned Ground. She didn't appear to be too far apart in age from Alena. Though, elves were a race that maintained an outwardly youthful appearance for a long period of time, so even her traveling companion Alena had no idea if they were close in age.
What he did know was that Lumelly was an arts caster of truly unfathomable ability, and that was apparently the reason why she was driven out of the village she was raised in—and nothing more than that.
"You start groaning, 'No, no, I'm gonna die' whether you're facing off against a dragon or a damn mouse. Who the hell's gonna take that seriously, huh? Go really get yourself killed for a change, will ya."
"Hey… I'm always fighting for my life out there. I don't want to die, and that's why I trained every day, let out one hundred percent of my full power nonstop, until I was finally able to move this fast, okay? It always feels like I'm shaving off two or three years of my life every time. I'm not some carefree genius like you, Lumelly."
"Oh, you got the gall to treat me like some genius, huh? Dang, you are a helluva funny guy! Ah well, maybe it's better if you think of me like that, eh? Hwah-hee-hee-hee-hee!"
Lumelly the Poisoned Ground was, without a doubt, a genius.
The legend that she had fought a Word Arts battle against Izick the Chromatic, said to be the strongest and most wicked demon king, was common knowledge to everyone in the Western Kingdom by that point. There wasn't anyone else who could manage such an extraordinary deed.
He had seen the light of the Thermal Arts she casted, black and corrosive.
She was a girl who used an irreplicable superpower, interfering and overwriting the Word Arts of others.
"If you're here, I'm guessing the others are, too?"
"Yup. That damn Izick was dragging his feet about some stupid preparations of his or whatever, so I came to flush him out myself… Finally."
Still squatting on top of the fence, she was glaring at one of the fortresses. She must have hated them more than anyone else in the party.
"The True Demon King. Finally be able to kill 'em dead."
The young girl seemed to sneer at justice, morality, and all the values esteemed by general society. Like Alena himself, she also didn't appear to be fighting with the sort of aspirations befitting a champion.
Why was Lumelly trying to challenge such a terrifying opponent as the True Demon King?
Alena wondered if the day would ever come where he could ask her. Maybe if they truly managed to defeat the Demon King.
"…Hmph. A wurm is dead." A different voice.
"Get mixed up in another fight, young Alena?"
Casually turning out of an alley was a man of unrefined features, wearing round glasses.
He was named Romzo the Star Map, another one of their traveling companions.
"C'mon, Master, these aren't petty little scraps we're talking about here! Would any sane minia pick a fight with a wurm?! Everyone under the sun says not to get involved with the Demon King Army, and I even tried to run away, too, but I… Today I really did think I was seriously going die for real, honest!"
"It's all the same."
Behind Romzo, there were residents scattered on the ground, fallen and without any power to stand back up.
He was a veteran master, capable of neutralizing those at the edge of madness, fully transformed into the Demon King Army like this, without causing any harm…and more importantly, without ever being swallowed up by the fear.
"Whether it's a brawl on the outskirts of town or a Demon King Army riot. Lay your troubled mind bare, and it will simply fan the emotional flames of your opponent. That's why it's so easy for you to get wrapped up in misfortune."
"Th-that's got nothing to do with it, though. I can't do anything about being scared, can I? I should've stayed behind with Psianop, too…"
"That's true. You had that option. In that case, why are you trying to take on
the True Demon King?" "Well…"
He wondered why. Some in this world had to do it. There was no doubt of that. But did Alena the Benighted White Wind possess the convictions necessary for the deeds of a champion?
Even now, he couldn't help wondering. Despite his journey coming to an end where he stood, right at the True Demon King's doorstep.
"All right, the three of us can go together. Izick's getting impatient." "…Okay. Let's go."
"He's the one who's kept us waiting this whole damn time! Guess that bastard's not gonna learn unless I beat the piss outta of him, huh?!"
Twenty-one years ago. There were seven people, known as the First Party.
Going from servant to champion solely off his skills with a bow, Fralik the Heaven.
A fighter who mastered the martial arts of his tribe, passed down uninterrupted through the ages, Neft the Nirvana.
A black-hearted arts caster, forsaken by the world, Lumelly the Poisoned Ground.
An unparalleled child prodigy with a spear, clad in trouble and bad luck, Alena the Benighted White Wind.
A self-proclaimed demon king feared for performing the evilest deeds the land had seen, Izick the Chromatic.
A visitor who controlled dark arts handed down from the underworld, Yugo the Moving Decapitation Blade.
A pioneer in medical techniques who understood all the meridians of the body, Romzo the Star Map.
They were the hope of all life that still breathed in this land. The seven who first harbored the courage to challenge the True Demon King. Each of them transcendental champions, possessing equal strength, they sometimes squared off against one another and sometimes joined forces to fight against the Demon King Army, but at long last, today was the day they would head for their final battle.
A man with a black scarf covering his mouth came to meet Lumelly and the others as they arrived.
"Lumelly. Haven't seen you since our fight in Tileet Ravine."
"Yugo…! I still remember that promise you made, you know. I'll be a big help, I swear. 'Conceal the blade of your heart.' You said that to me, didn't you?"
Yugo the Moving Decapitation Blade nodded mildly at his former enemy's words.
He wasn't the only one. Right now, every one of them except for Psianop was assembling in front of the Demon King's castle.
There was only one among them who was sitting cross-legged on the ground. He was a middle-aged man wearing a green overcoat, appearing to have seen better days.
He was peering into the castle with a window he made with his fingers. With the same aloof and detached attitude he always had.
"Hrmm, hoo boy, this is baaaad news! Oh yeah, this is gonna be a reeeeal tough one."
"Hey, Izick! You asshole!" "Ow!"
Lumelly mercilessly kicked him in the back. Her demeanor the complete opposite of how she had spoken to Yugo.
"What did I tell you this morning?! Quit moaning and whining about every damn little thing! No chickening out now, asshole!"
"Now, now, Lumelly dear, I'm not scared at all, you know. Uh… Ahhh, actually, I might've lied. I might be a bit scared honestly. Strange, isn't it? Cold and heartless Izick the Chromatic, scared."
The True Demon King, their mere presence enough to stain a whole area with madness.
No one had seen their true form before. Anyone who approached them, and those they approached, were all driven insane.
Courage was needed to face off against the unknown terror. Without true power that could sustain oneself, like the seven gathered here together, they wouldn't have been able to get this far.
There was a terror that made one want to turn away and run.
It should've been a completely normal fortress of a local lord, and yet one look made it clear that the True Demon King was there…
So powerful was the clear terror given physical form that lurked inside its walls.
"What should we do, Fralik? Attack or not? If a man of Izick's caliber is saying so, truth may be that our chances aren't good. I'm fine either way,
myself," Yugo asked, still with his arms crossed. "...Mrm."
Fralik the Heaven only replied with a brief momentary grunt, his gaze fixed hard on the castle.
His throat hadn't been functional ever since it was crushed while he was still young. Short verbalizations were the only way the man could express his will to others.
"Ah."
"Fralik's saying he'll go. Then, I'm going, too."
"Grrrrrf… Killing them today is our only option. A city lies just ahead. If we let the Demon King invade, it'll be ruined. Surely none of you here intend for that to happen."
Neft the Nirvana. The last hero of a lycan village as their race was slowly being ousted by the minian races.
Izick reluctantly stood up.
"Whatever, guess it doesn't matter to me. I've been doing whatever horrible thing I've wanted to make sure I don't die with regrets for a while now! Ha-ha- ha-ha-ha! If it's kill or be killed then, I want the end to be as flashy as it can be! Let's have some fun, eh?!"
"Mhn."
Fralik smiled. He didn't speak with his words, but he was always the center of their party.
They then all stepped into the castle. Into the jaws of death.
Indeed. It was the jaws of death. Much like everyone in later eras knew, the First Party was defeated.
Completely powerless, just like many of the champions who would follow in their footsteps. They were completely destroyed, along with the hopes of everyone of that age. Of course, the current seven were unaware that this future lay ahead of them.
"...I can tell. The True Demon King... They're up ahead here."
Izick guided the party, using a homunculus he created to scout ahead. The homunculus, no bigger than one's ankle, went terminally insane just from approaching the room. Any beings with a soul, even constructs, would meet such an end.
Every one of the seven could feel a mysterious and unknown premonition of death.
Alena the Benighted White Wind was the one to put their hands on the door in front of them.
"I'm opening it."
He concluded that was what he needed to do. He needed to open up a line of fire for Fralik's arrows and Lumelly's Word Arts.
Everyone had received Rozmo's pressure point technique and was now capable of displaying powers of concentration beyond their normal limits. Nevertheless, this technique wasn't enough to endure the intense pressure of the terror facing them, capable of driving an ordinary person instantly insane.
His heart pounded; the inside of his mouth went dry.
It was cold. He had a hard time breathing. He was terrified.
Alena trembled from fright. He had only ended up here because he had gone along with the flow. Surely the other champions, who had reasons for being there, didn't feel this way.
…The True Demon King.
The door opened. A shivering cold air caressed his nerves.
The chant of Lumelly's Word Arts that reduced all to ash raced out of her mouth. The gem on her finger grew more radiant. That was how things should have went.
"Rumeyry io halese. Hamsuwaka baal, morteka zuorurg." (From Lumelly to Haresept's eyes. Strumming verdant ripples, of hollow light.)
Her incantation stopped.
Fralik's bowstring, which should've twanged faster than anyone could act, didn't move.
Yugo, who should've exploited the shadows to sunder everything in two, was also frozen where he stood.
Why?
As he feared the ceaseless throbbing of his own heart, Alena tried to look for the reason why.
A reason so apparent that no search was even necessary. They were terrified.
"Oh. Do I have guests?"
Alena thought that it was a pretty voice. Its owner sat rather normally in a chair within the bedroom, reading a book just like a typical minian scholar would.
A breeze blew into the room. Just like what blew in the world outside…the same wind from a world without this enormous dread in front of them.
The long black hair smoothly swayed, and the pitch-black pupils looked at the party.
She smiled.
The terrifying Demon King. A ruinous demon that crushed all behind them. Or perhaps a shapeless phenomenon of pure destruction itself.
It was none of the above.
It was simply a young girl.
The True Demon King was different from the seven gathered there in only one regard.
A white line running over simple, machine-sewn black fabric. A red scarf prominent on her chest.
…It was the clothing of a different culture from someone far, far beyond their own.
"Hello."
It was known as a schoolgirl sailor uniform.
"You don't know? About your own world?"
Yuno was suspicious of Soujirou's vague reply.
Was he seriously trying to tell her he didn't understand anything about his own world?
"…What's that supposed to mean?"
"Hmmm, I dunno how to put it, but my country, right? It got really messed up a long, long time ago, with all these guys from a bunch of other countries showing up, see. It was nonstop fighting, so I don't really know."
"Wait, so…there was a war then… Right? So your country was already…" "Yeah. I guess that's what it was. Things were like that since I was a kid, so I
only heard 'bout it."
Of course. When Yuno thought it over, it was obvious. Soujirou had fought against another country's weapons. She didn't need to hear from him to know what his situation was like.
This swordsman from another world had long ago tasted the type of ruin Yuno had experienced in Labyrinth City.
"This girl called Shiki Aihara, 'pparently she destroyed it all."