Since IX had now made an attempt to escape and Sol had already determined he was entirely out of moves, Eliza figured the only thing left to do was to take him into custody and therefore cut off his use of Float. She considered severing all his limbs for a second but remembered that escape was absolutely impossible with the full roster present and therefore held herself back. Being a girl, she didn’t want to expose too much of her real self in front of the boy she liked.
Even Sol, who couldn’t receive any of Player’s augmentations, could land from this height with ease, let alone Eliza herself. Therefore, she was planning to say coolly, “There’s no escape from here” the moment IX touched down. But, to her absolute shock, the man hit the ground hard, with a very loud crack.
Huh?! Did he die?! It would be entirely my fault if he did!
Eliza was so shocked she felt like she had been plunged into cold water. However, she wasn’t alone. Everyone who had received power from Sol had overestimated IX on account of him showing up as Sol’s enemy and thought it a matter of course that he had at least the same physical prowess they did. Clearly, that had been a huge mistaken assumption. Without his magic and bloodline skill, IX had been reduced to little more than a normal, powerless human. As it turned out, those of Sol’s inner circle had become so powerful they could completely shut down even a Ward.
“Wh-What is it that you want?! The intel I hold?! My power?!”
IX lay in a pile on the ground, shaking from the pain of his bone fractures and defeat. Although he hadn’t the faintest idea what had just happened, he at least understood that his attempt to escape had been foiled, and he cried out plaintively with blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. He failed to notice Eliza sighing with relief as he continued trying to cast every single spell he knew, but every one of them died out at the very last moment, further plunging him into consternation.
Is there such a gulf between us?! He spat out a mouthful of blood, obviously suffering from internal injuries. So much for being a Ward. What was even the point of sending me against such powerful opponents?! What meaning is there in everything that I have—
All pretense had been ripped away. He was about to start cursing Sol’s group when his train of thought suddenly froze. Meaning was a direction he should not pursue. To forcibly change gears, he let his pain and rage wash over him.
The more pressing question is how I can get out of this mess.
Thankfully, it seemed the nexus being wanted something from him. Maybe it was the information he held as a Ward. Maybe it was Unlimited Sword Glint, which, despite having proved ineffective in this fight, was still a powerful skill. There had to be a reason Sol had yet to kill him even though he could do so at any moment.
There has to be something. Please let there be something.
IX’s mind raced as he schemed for a way to survive, as he had successfully done two hundred years ago. He had no idea who would ultimately win in the clash between this nexus being and the Wards, but he would have no place in that future if he didn’t first pull through.
No matter what I have to sell, I’ll—
“Are you seriously saying that after everything that’s happened? If you didn’t hesitate to kill us, why should we let you live?”
However, the question that IX had been so sure would grab Sol’s attention fell on deaf ears. There wasn’t anything in particular that Sol wanted to hear from IX’s mouth, and neither was he interested in inviting IX to join his side and wield his Unlimited Sword Glint for his sake. Whatever interest he’d had in that regard had been snuffed out at the very start of the fight. Since they had reached a point where they found it impossible to settle their differences with words and crossed the line into actually trying to kill each other, “I admit it’s my loss, and I surrender” wasn’t going to fly. At least, not with Sol.
Sol never showed mercy to those who took a shot at his life. He couldn’t, not after having upheld that policy against even his childhood friends, Alan and Mark. It wasn’t like he thought nothing of what had happened, but neither did he truly regret the choices he had made. There were only two possible outcomes when one person tried to kill another: win and carry out the killing, or lose and be killed. Someone who entertained any misconceptions about that would eventually end up with a knife in their back. To Sol, this was an unshakable truth. Those who would use their strength for personal gain had to be aware that they themselves were subject to the same rules.
This applied to him too. For example, he couldn’t say for sure that the self-proclaimed Game Master didn’t see him as an enemy. Therefore, he wouldn’t be surprised or indignant if he suddenly found himself the one crawling on the ground, his life about to be snuffed out. He also understood that the same fate could befall those who had joined his side. Case in point, IX had targeted everyone here with flying slashes even though his target had been Sol alone. Sol’s party had ended up dominating the fight, but if their strength had fallen short, they would all be dead by now.
And so, Sol was going to make sure that IX died here. There wasn’t a single reason to spare someone who had made an attempt on his and his companions’ lives.
“Why didn’t you kill me right away, then?!” IX thought his question and anger justified. It was because he hadn’t been killed right away two hundred years ago that he had been able to beg for his life and ultimately survive by joining the Wards. Yes, Crystania and all its neighbors had suffered a heavy price for following his judgment and waging war against the Wards, but he had been saved. He had come out on top every time he had been weighed against something else. He was worth it. That was why he had been allowed to live this long despite having lost.
Of course, though this was the case with the Wards, it was a mistake thinking the same was true of everyone else. Prince Salyu had let becoming Ward IX get to his head. His arrogance had twisted the conviction and sense of responsibility that everyone who stained their hands with the blood of others was burdened with. That misconception always led to defeat and death, going in order of those who most forgot themselves first.
Gleaning from IX’s astonishment and outrage that this was the case with him, Sol didn’t bother to give him an answer. Now that they were no longer victor and loser, the strong and the weak, or even two people putting their lives on the line clashing in pursuit of some goal, mild disgust was all that he felt toward IX. And so, without saying a word, he shot Gawain’s newly developed magic tool into his body.
“What did you dooooo?!” IX howled, expecting a killing blow, but that didn’t seem to be the case. He hadn’t the faintest idea that Sol didn’t want to talk with him anymore and couldn’t help continuing to run his mouth, asking inane questions.
“Luna.”
“Yes, my lord?”
There was indeed a reason Sol had yet to kill IX. It wasn’t out of mercy, of course, nor was it to torture or recruit him. The tool that Gawain had developed based on Blue Water, which he had shot into IX, was only really insurance. He had used it solely because the enemy was slated for death anyway and it therefore didn’t matter what was done to him. If the experiment went well, he might get IX’s knowledge as a bonus too, but he wasn’t fussed about it. And he had zero need for IX’s mind.
What he did want was for Luna to devour him to take all his abilities, including Unlimited Sword Glint. If there was a trap set up in him, the plan was to devour that too and take it head-on.
Luna caught all this from simply having her name called. She reluctantly let go of his hand and pattered over to the fallen Ward. Without a hint of malice or hostility, she dispassionately began carrying out her liege’s command.
“Wait, what are you doing?! Listen to—”
The sight of the adorable little girl slowly approaching filled IX with more despair and fear than he had ever felt. He had experienced being on the verge of death before, but being eaten alive was a whole other beast.
Sol’s companions were petrified watching the All Dragon eat a human being in person for the first time. Even Sol himself found himself looking away before he knew it. It wasn’t like it was that much easier the second time.
Though Frederica had the same expression on her face as the others, the heat bubbling up from deep within was making it really hard for her to remain standing. Her moist eyes were fixated on Sol, who was waiting for Luna to finish with slightly visible disgust. As a royal, she fully understood the depth of his resolve. She had been far away during the Oratorio Tangram, but this time, she got to watch him making the coldhearted call up close, and it spoke to something deep within her.
Her dedication and submission to him so far had been in no way insincere. However, there had always been a pragmatic side to her that expected some form of reward. For the first time ever, she was reacting to Sol purely as a girl with all calculations out the window.