“In this world, nothing is pointless. In order to regain the evil god’s powers, you absorbed the fiend dragon. That dragon is a demon that was once called the Time Dragon, and it has the power to control time itself. Now that you have eaten it, you will be able to travel between the past and the present.” “Wait, but he can’t eat the fiend dragon!!” “In addition, as a safeguard against unforeseen situations, I’ve created girls with a scale of the Time Dragon as their core. They can travel through time. You never know what may happen. Even if you were unable to eat the dragon, set your mind at ease.” Aileen’s mouth falls open. “You will have to change the past. As the evil god, you can already control people with suggestions, but that alone is likely insufficient. I’ve reinforced your ability to manipulate memories to a certain extent. Use it well.” “……” “Just in case, I have implanted all I know of the future in your memories. To you, it will appear to be the past. Think carefully and change that past. I’ve made it possible for you to use both sacred power and magic, so you should be able to deal with whatever problems you encounter in any era with brute force.” “You know, it sounds as if you’ve given your son far too many cheat skills!!” “Lady Aileen, it’s only an image.” “Change the past and defeat the corrupt dragon. Then create the proper future—using the sacred sword.” Aileen, who’s been struggling against the urge to strike the image, looks up, startled. “Just in case, I have provided two of them.” “I’m noticing an awful lot of just in cases!! And where are you finding all these sacred swords?!” “Also, just in case, I have several holy swords waiting in the back for you. Take care not to confuse them with the sacred swords.” “Did you need to get him so many that he risked confusing them?!” “Lady Aileen, calm down.” “First, run a sacred sword into each of the girls I have made for you. If you do, they will awaken: two genuine Maids of the Sacred Sword who will bring you a future and salvation.” Two…genuine…Maids of the Sacred Sword. This time, Aileen really does gulp. There’s a gentle smile on Amelia’s lips. “Each of them are the real thing… This time, they both are. One would be sufficient, but just in case. You will be venturing into a future even I don’t know, so it’s far better to be prepared.” You liar, Aileen thinks but doesn’t say aloud. “I will now go to win my destiny.” At that point, Aileen realizes how she knew this was Amelia. She’s wearing the same clothing she wore when she forced her way into Imperial Ellmeyer as a candidate bride. Did she make this right before coming to Ellmeyer? “I pray for your success in battle. Please create a future I don’t know, a thousand years from now.” The light retreats into the stone marker again. Even though it has nothing resembling a lid, there’s a clunk, and the marker opens. It’s empty. However, it’s clear that something should be there. The sacred swords. There’s a space just large enough for two blades of the shape Aileen remembers. “They…aren’t here.” “That’s right. Because the sacred swords no longer exist.” However, if Amelia had won, she’s sure they would have been here. “…What a fool you are.” “Lady Aileen?” After she abdicated as queen, once she saw that the world was proceeding as she’d predicted, she would surely have placed her own sacred sword here. Her sister’s sword, which she’d kept all those centuries, would have joined it. She would have wagered that, in a future she didn’t know, they would be allowed to be together—but Aileen has destroyed that future. She doesn’t regret it. If she didn’t do that, she would have lost her own future. Both sympathy and pity would be insulting at this point. Still, just for a moment… “You really are a fool.” Aileen lowers her gaze. Estella softly sets her hands on her shoulders. “You’ve gone and done something on your own without telling me again.” By the time Claude returns to the bedroom they’ve been given, the sun has set. Aileen smiles back at him. “I’ve returned bearing holy swords. That was useful of me, wasn’t it?” “Do you think I’ll forgive anything if you say that?” “Master Claude, do sit down.” Aileen pats the floor beneath the window, which is padded with fluffy carpets and cushions. Frowning, Claude sits. Aileen slips into his arms and rests her forehead against his shoulder. “I’m tired. Would you stay like this for a little while?” “…This is rare. Well, if you’re trying to get into my good graces, it’s not a bad move.” Her reliable husband pulls a tray with a pitcher of water, some wine, and pie-like snacks made of cheese and parsley wrapped in thin dough over to them. Aileen ordered it as a late-night treat. “You’ve already eaten?” “Yes, with Lady Roxane, Estella, and Lady Sahra. Have you?” “I just snacked on whatever was in hand’s reach with Baal and Charles. While we eat, let’s have you tell me what happened.” Nodding, Aileen straightens up and relates what she saw and heard in the underground ruin. When he’s crunched his way through the last pie and licked his thumb clean, Claude asks, “In other words, Evare’s from a thousand years in the future? However, he found no sacred swords, and he hasn’t been able to awaken Machina as a Maid of the Sacred Sword.” “I believe so. I don’t know if it’s true of the future Lady Amelia spoke of as well, but there are significant gaps between what she said and actual history. Perhaps he came from the future to rectify that.” “Then he was searching for Lucia because he hoped she’d have a sacred sword already? He jumped to Charles’s era first, but her body wasn’t there; it had been hidden as the Daughter of God’s corpse. That’s why he came back to this era, where the Daughter of God still lies in state. Even then, Lucia was merely a body, but Mother was here.” “…I believe Lady Grace’s soul will be compatible with Lucia.” At the very least, Aileen is certain that Amelia took steps to make it so. “I hope she’s all right… Under the circumstances, why do you suppose Charles said he needed the Maid of the Sacred Sword as well, no matter what?” “Children develop intense assumptions at his age, so whatever he’s thinking, it’s probably nothing decent.” Claude uncorks the bottle of wine. “Is the underground ruin unchanged, aside from the fact that you took the holy swords?” “Yes. We can’t risk affecting the future negatively by moving it, and in any case, it would be difficult to do.” “Then the Machina who self-destructed is still asleep?” “Yes. According to Lady Sahra, she was moving by magic. She said that if her magic recovers past a certain threshold, she may awaken.” “Since she has no soul, Evare must have augmented her with his magic. She is human, though?” Claude pours wine into a glass. Aileen nods. “Lady Sahra said she was, even if she was artificially created. She said she was no doll, and that she had a soul.” “Charles said something similar. He seems to be taking her side.” “That’s right, what did you talk about with Charles? What about the barrier over Ellmeyer? What’s happened to your curse?” “The barrier is still over Ellmeyer. It’s safer that way. I also decided to leave my curse as it is.” Aileen frowns. Sitting with one knee bent, Claude gives her a wry smile. “He didn’t do it out of malice. You don’t have to worry.” “I believe that as well. But it’s not as if there’s no harm, is there?” “The only harm is turning into a young dragon. As long as I have Baal’s earring, I know I can hang on for a while, so I’m letting it be. It’s fine.” “But, Master Claude, if anything happens to you, it will wound both myself and Charles.” The boy may act like a cynic, but ultimately, he’s trying to protect his family from Evare. “True. I think he’s a lot like me, but on the other hand, talking to him convinces me he’s a child you raised. He’s stubborn, and once he’s decided to do something, he gets right to it.” Claude’s soft smile makes Aileen fall silent, but her feelings are complicated. As if he’s seen through her, Claude’s fingers brush her cheek. “Don’t sulk like that. In exchange, I’ve made him promise to stay here quietly until we find the floating palace.” “He is my son, you know. What will you do if he takes you in utterly?” “I fully expect him to. I haven’t left any openings. And I know his weaknesses.” “…What do you think I am, Master Claude?” She meant it as a joke, and his straight-faced answer has left her indignant. Claude swirls the wine in his glass, smiling at her. “What is this weakness?” “Estella. And Machina.” She expected the former, but the latter comes as a surprise. “Baal gave Charles special permission to enter the harem. He says he’s going to help care for Machina.” “Isn’t that…unwise?” Estella seems to suspect that Charles and Machina have a relationship. Claude chuckles. “Yes, very. He doesn’t seem to know that, though. Puberty is rough.” “This is no time to be enjoying yourself. How has he explained it to Estella?” “With that personality, there’s no way he’d explain. He’s worried about her, and he only wants to return her to the future safely—but if he keeps acting the way he has been, she’ll never pick up on it.” Claude smiles meanly. Aileen feels a little sorry for Charles. “You mustn’t bully him, Master Claude. What is this about?” “In order to return Estella to the future, Machina needs to wake up.” She recalls that Machina and Lucia were made with scales from the Time Dragon. Since Evare hasn’t eaten the fiend dragon, he and Charles used Machina’s ability to get to the past. However, Charles won’t tell Estella why he’s concerned about Machina. “It’s hilarious. He’s really anxious about whether Estella will be able to get back to the future. However, he insists that their parents set up the engagement and he hasn’t agreed to it. Baal was definitely upset.” “He is your son, Master Claude.” Claude shrugs lightly, then drains his glass of wine. The thought doesn’t seem to trouble him. “What is Charles doing now, then?” “He says he’s worried about Machina, so he’s going to sleep beside her. That misunderstanding is about to get even worse.” “You’re finding all this far too amusing, Master Claude.” Claude is resting his forehead on his bent knee and laughing, but at that, his eyes turn toward her. “Yes, and? If it doesn’t make you a bit of a fool, it isn’t love.” He suddenly dons a sweet smile that’s dripping with sensuality. Putting his arms around Aileen’s waist, he pulls her to him and tries to kiss her, but she sets her palm on his chin and pushes his jaw up. He gives her an unhappy look, but she hasn’t heard the really important thing yet. “And? What will we do next?” “Look for the floating palace. We can’t let someone we know so little about steal it from us. Charles said the palace will be a safer bet when it comes to helping Machina recover, too. Since our interests align there, he’s agreed to help us.” “And regarding everything else…?” “He’s the same as ever.” She feels as if he’s covering something up there. Dropping a kiss on her furrowed brow, Claude whispers in her ear, “If you’re so worried, would you grant Charles’s wish first?” “But of course. What is it?” “He says he wants you to have his big brother, or maybe it was his sister.” Instantly, Aileen’s face feels as if it’s on fire. Moving with deliberate care, she removes the shawl she’s been wearing over her shoulders, acting miffed to cover her embarrassment. “At a time like this, in someone else’s home…” “Oh, why not? At least here, I won’t do something pathetic like turn into a baby dragon in the middle of the deed.” When he says that with a straight face, it makes her laugh. Claude looks slightly dissatisfied while Aileen demurely wraps her arms around his neck. A figure is making its way unerringly through the silent palace, and Luciel scowls. “How does she know the way?” “There’s no point in asking.” “…That’s really all you ever say.” He’s gotten used to it by now, but he makes the comment anyway. Lilia doesn’t seem to care a bit, though. She easily finds the door that leads underground beneath the throne, then jumps in without a second thought. She might as well be a child exploring. She opens the invisible door right away, too, and just like that, the three of them are in the depths of the palace. There’s an altar, and water flows into the space from some unknown source very high up. “Is this…the altar where the queen’s ascension ritual takes place?” “That’s right.” Lilia climbs the stairs, her footsteps light, walks around the altar, then cocks her head. “Maybe there really isn’t anything here. Sahra said this was where Amelia’s body was, with Grace’s soul sealed inside it, but…” “Grace told me Amelia met destruction gallantly, soul and all.” “I see… I remembered several things suddenly, so I just assumed it was that woman’s doing.” Lilia clasps her hands behind her, then seats herself on the altar. Naturally, both Luciel and Serena are shocked. “Look, you, that has to be blasphemous.” “Why? She was planning to make me queen. That means there must be some sort of final mechanism here. Something that would make me advance the game as that woman wished—” Lilia is swinging her legs idly, but suddenly, her eyes widen. Serena, who’s standing between her and Luciel, turns around, then backs away. Although he feels like an idiot, he doesn’t catch on until after he’s coughed up blood. “What’ve we got here? I knew I had a rat problem. It’s you, huh, Luciel?” From the darkness behind him, a young man appears, looking just as he did when he was a god. Evare, Luciel thinks, but the word doesn’t make it past his lips. The blade protruding from his stomach is the sacred sword, but he’s even more rattled by the figure who’s holding it. “Gr-Grace…?” Perfectly straight black hair. She said it was so smooth that it would slip through her fingers, and it was hard to tie back properly. But something isn’t quite right— Of course. She’s younger than she was when he last saw her. This is the age she was when they met. The way she’s styled her hair is a little different, too. She drags the sword out of his stomach, taking those memories with it. With nothing to support him, Luciel crumples to the stone floor. “Hey! No!” Serena holds a hand over his wound. Feeling his power slowly begin to recover, he catches her hand. “You—mustn’t.” “What’s this? Are you maybe the Saint of Salvation? Just havin’ you around is like havin’ an army.” Serena’s instincts are good; that remark of Evare’s is enough to tell her why Luciel stopped her. However, defiantly, she pours power into his wound anyway. Wounds made by the sacred sword won’t heal so easily, though. Evare knows this as well. He just stands there smiling, emphasizing that he could kill them whenever he feels like it. “Y-you… What did you…do to Grace?” “Grace? Was that soul a friend of yours? If so, sorry ’bout that. She’s been reborn now, so I doubt she remembers you.” Breathing shallowly, Luciel looks up at his wife, who’s reverted to girlhood. She’s smiling. “This sword is for protecting you and the demons,” she said, holding this very blade. “Re…born…?” “That’s right. She’s the new Maid of the Sacred Sword who Mom—Amelia—had waitin’ for me.” That name makes him clench his fists. Amelia. His sister-in-law. Why would you make a thing like…? What have you done to Grace…again…? This floating palace, and the new Maid of the Sacred Sword who looks identical to his wife. Luciel has never understood what Amelia felt or what she wished for. He thinks he might, and then he never quite gets there. “Forget that, why’re you still human? You shoulda returned to bein’ a god ages ago.” “Give…Grace…back.” He strains his eyes, looking at the girl with the sacred sword. He does sense Grace’s soul in her…but something seems off. Soul and body haven’t fully blended yet; she’s just a patchwork human. As proof, this girl who looks so much like Grace only smiles. There’s something decidedly inhuman about that. “I mean, you can say that, but…this future’s the correct one. Still, if that sacred sword works on you, the one Lucia has is definitely the real deal. We just proved she’s a genuine Maid of the Sacred Sword.” “A genuine Maid of the Sacred Sword?” A mocking voice speaks from the altar, and Evare’s eyes turn toward it. “So that’s a real sacred sword, is it? Hmm.” “…Who’re you?” “Didn’t Mother mention me? I think you’re probably my little brother.” “Lilia Reinoise, huh?” Evare breaks into a wry smile. “Yeah, you’re my big sis, all right. But see, I spent ages and ages sleepin’ in some sort of tank. I feel like an only child—as a matter of fact, I was alone for a real long time.” “You may call me Sister.” Lilia hops down from the altar, landing with her feet neatly together, tilts her head, and smiles. “…So you ain’t queen, huh? I knew it. I tumbled to that the second I saw Luciel. Aside from that, the fact that Charles is in that era—I swear, it’s all messed up. Mom must’ve lost big-time.” Sighing, Evare turns to face Lilia again. “What ’bout you, Sis?” “What do you mean, ‘what’?” “This situation. Mom told you what the future was s’posed to be like, didn’t she?” “Well, let’s see. At this point, I’ve got several thoughts on that.” Lilia descends the stairs, step by deliberate step. “Couldn’t I have done better? If I’d known this or that sooner, if I’d managed to defeat Lady Aileen… I don’t want to regret any of it, but I do.” “In that case, it ain’t too late. Wanna help your li’l bro out now?” Luciel’s eyes widen. He tries to move, but Serena holds him down. When he looks up at her, she shakes her head slowly, her eyes calm. “You were the real Maid of the Sacred Sword. I’d feel a lot better havin’ you on my side. You could even be queen and rebuild the Queendom of Hausel. After everythin’s over, I mean.” “Not Imperial Ellmeyer?” “Now that it’s tangled up this bad, we’ve gotta regroup. We’ve gotta make this place into the future.” “Do you mean the stage of Game 6?” “Six? What’s that?” “The evil god is a god who takes on human malice. If he’s defeated, then that malice won’t have anywhere to go. If the demon king is born into a situation like that, he’ll become a demon that puts the fiend dragon to shame and completely rot the world. That means we need to purify both the evil god and the world and start over—at least, that’s what the first Daughter of God said in 5, when she snapped and went off the rails. There’s no way that wasn’t foreshadowing for 6.” What skims through Luciel’s mind just then is Claude, and one other. The boy who’s just like Claude and himself. “I didn’t get most of that, but if you’re talkin’ ’bout the corrupt dragon, that’s right.” “That must be the final boss of 6, then. Yes, I see. Most of the pieces have come together. By the way, there’s something I told myself I’d do if I ever got a little brother.” “What’s that, hmm? If you’re gonna be on my team from here on out, I’d like to hear it.” “Little brothers must submit to their big sisters completely.” Evare freezes up, the polite smile still on his face. Lilia gives a thin smile of her own. “What did you expect? I refuse to be your mother figure.” She crouches low, then launches herself off the floor. Evare grimaces. “What’s this? You ain’t got a sacred sword now. You wanna die?” “Heh-heh. Don’t make me laugh. You call a thing like that a Maid of the Sacred Sword?” Seeing Lucia raise her sacred sword to intercept the incoming enemy, Evare gasps as realization hits. “The Maid of the Cursed Sword… No, Lucia, get back! She’s gonna steal your sword!” “I sense no respect for previous installments.” As Lucia tries to retreat, Lilia grabs her hand and attempts to plunge the sword into her own stomach. Just before she can, Evare blasts her with magic. Luciel reflexively casts a barrier, protecting Lilia, but the recoil sends him flying. As the three of them hit the floor in the midst of the smoke, Luciel coughs, then starts to scold her. “Could you be any more reckless?! Grace is strong all on her own, and she’s got the sacred sword now!” “Is having knotholes for eyes the default for heroes and final bosses in this game?” “Huh?” “Who cares about that now?! What are you going to do? I really can’t see you winning this!” “Serena. Hand.” Serena reflexively raises her hand, and Lilia smacks its palm with her own. “All right! The league of heroines is back!” “Huh?” “I’m going to go check my answers. If I came here, I thought that woman would answer some of my questions, but it looks this won’t be that easy. Life’s a pain like that, isn’t it?” Crouching, Lilia grins slyly, pointing at Serena’s chest. “Whatever you do, you mustn’t let them catch you. And don’t look at Evare’s eyes, all right? I’m pretty sure he has some sort of power of suggestion. Use me as a decoy and make sure you get away.” “What are you planning?” Rising to her feet, Lilia gives a troubled shrug. “I get these thoughts sometimes. Couldn’t Cedric have become emperor? The same goes for Marcus, Lester, you, Sahra—everybody. Couldn’t we all have had different, better lives? If I’d done it more cleverly…I might even have been able to save Amelia.” Luciel’s eyes widen, and the girl who says she’s Amelia’s daughter smiles at him. “Find her, all right? She should still be around.” “How can you know…?” “There’s no way she’d just leave Grace like that. Even if she has to crawl up from the depths of hell, she’ll be here. After all, she’s the heroine!” The girl offers Luciel that nonsensical answer as if it’s hope. “I do think the hero’s the only one who can call her back, though.” Right before his eyes, like Amelia, Lilia turns on her heel. He doesn’t know why, but it makes him feel like crying. “Give my regards to Lady Aileen! Tell her to go easy on me. ” “You—” “It’s fine. I may not have the sacred sword, but I’ve still got sacred power.” Evare’s magic barrels straight toward Lilia, blowing the smoke away. She repels it easily, but Evare’s hands close around her slim neck. “That was a close shave. I only just realized. If you’re from the Maid’s bloodline, you can steal the sacred sword. Sorry, but I can’t just roll over ’cause you tell me to.” “Gracious. We just met, and we’re fighting like siblings already.” “I’m not lettin’ you people get away, either. You’re the god of demons, Luciel. You can’t beat the Maid of the Sacred Sword!” Lucia lunges at Luciel and Serena, raising her sword high. No matter what else is happening, their opponent has Grace’s sacred sword. A barrier won’t even buy them time. Luciel tries to squeeze his eyes shut—but then he blinks. Right in front of him, Lucia has been abruptly knocked back. Luciel isn’t the only one who’s startled. Evare stares, his eyes shuttling between the fallen Lucia and Luciel. “What was that—?” “Listen, can you teleport us if I loan you my power?!” Serena asks, grabbing his shoulder. Bewildered, Luciel nods. “If I use up everything I’ve got, I can make it work somehow— But Lilia’s… And we can’t leave Grace and run!” “It’s fine! That woman’s the real Maid of the Sacred Sword!!” Serena shouts at him, but her eyes are fixed on Lilia. The declaration seems to pierce his heart. Biting his lip, Luciel pours every last bit of his power into teleporting. Incredible pressure bears down on him, but he doesn’t care. Grace is the Maid of the Sacred Sword. He wasn’t able to forgive people for ridiculing her as the Maid of the Cursed Sword. However, Amelia—who wanted to be the Maid of the Sacred Sword so very badly—was also definitely the real thing. Both Grace and Amelia were Maids of the Sacred Sword. That was what Luciel believed—and what he still believes, if he’s being honest. “…What did you just do?” Evare’s gazing at the spot where Luciel was a moment ago and at the barrier that’s still there. Lilia laughs, even though he’s still throttling her. “What did I tell you? You don’t have enough respect for the older games.” That’s why he doesn’t know what protected Luciel. When she gives Evare a smile, the eyes behind his spectacles flare with magic. Or, no, maybe it’s his unique hero powers. “Former Maid of the Sacred Sword. It’s obvious that I can’t leave you runnin’ loose. Since that’s so, though, this should get through to you. This future ain’t the real deal.” If she looks him in the eye, it’s very likely he’ll overwrite her memories or use some kind of suggestion to control her. Knowing that, Lilia stares straight into Evare’s eyes. Overwhelming pressure runs through her, from the depths of her eyes all the way to her brain. The pain seems to rattle her skull. Even so, she doesn’t look away. Cedric. Loser. Incompetent prince. The shameless one who flatters and fawns on the crown prince to survive. The man who’s not worthy to be a member of the imperial family. How long are they planning to keep him alive? It’s a waste of tax money. Oh, it’s fine; he’s a cheap prince they can use and dispose of whenever they like. That’s why they let that waste of space live. The wine they intentionally spilled on him has left a stain that won’t come out. The lace handkerchief she made for him is submerged in muddy water. I could have given you a different future, and yet— His back as he faces a canvas behind the bars of the West Tower, charcoal in hand. “What are you drawing?” “It’s a secret,” he says with a laugh, and what he’s drawing is… In the game, it hadn’t been a picture like that. Is that good fortune or bad? Her eyes are so hot, they feel like they’re on fire. It hurts. Everything’s being sluiced away. She has to see it, though. The future Lilia Reinoise has ruined. When he opens his eyes, the face he often sees in dreams is right there, and it leaves him so stunned, he can’t move. “Are you awake, Master Charles?” Her voice is impassive. This is no dream. “Woman— Why are you he—?!” He starts to bolt up but realizes while he’s in motion that it’s going to bring their faces closer together. In an attempt to avoid that, he twists his upper body and ends up rolling off the couch and onto the floor. Estella, who’s seated on the carpeted floor, tilts her head. The tips of her pale-gold shimmering hair sway at the level of her lovely chin. It’s grown out a little, he thinks. She chopped that hair off when she’d gotten engaged to him. “What are you doing?” “…Sh-shut up! Y-you were too…close… Actually, why are you even here?!” “I heard you were caring for her, so I thought I would help you. She is a woman, you know.” Estella glances at the bed, a short distance away. It has a high, rounded canopy, the sort that’s common in Ashmael, and Machina is sleeping right in the middle of it. I bet Mother or somebody asked her to come check on me. She’s a very serious girl, and that would be just like her. Talking himself into believing that explanation to calm his jumpy heart, Charles gets up and grabs the water pitcher. Screaming right after waking has made his throat dry. “So what were you doing?” “Gazing at your face while you slept.” He almost spits out his water. Hastily wiping his mouth, he turns back. “Wh-wha-what…?” “Since I had the chance, I thought I would observe you closely, Master Charles. I knew already, but you really do have a lovely face. It’s like a work of art.” “—I’m so sorry I’m not tall and sturdy like my brother!” His older twin doesn’t look like him at all. He’s in excellent shape, and he’s growing like a weed. In contrast, Charles is delicate for fourteen, and he hasn’t grown much yet. On top of that, his exquisitely modeled features resemble his father’s, and they give him an androgynous look. He knows people compare him with his twin, and they mock him by calling him “the princess.” When his older sister and brother heard about that, they’d synchronized in an unfortunate direction: “We’ll show those scoundrels.” “That’s right! Our little brother isn’t just a princess; he’s a nation-toppling beauty!” Then they’d forced the reluctant Charles to dress as a girl and marched him around, plunging the capital into chaos as everyone wondered who the beautiful princess was. His father scolded everyone, telling them to “Do anything but that,” but Charles didn’t feel particularly grateful. His father was sympathetic only because he had the same problem. “Master Charles, do you want to be taller?” “Of course I do.” “Why?” It’s obviously better if I’m taller than you, the girl I like. As if I could say that! Canceling out a remark his father would probably have made without a blush, Charles gets to his feet. “Who cares about that? And Machina’s…still asleep, huh?” Unless Machina wakes up, he can’t send Estella back to the future. He can’t do anything else until that’s done. He wants to settle this fast, but… “…Um. What sort of person is Lady Machina?” Charles is standing by the bed, looking down at Machina, and Estella’s strangely hesitant question makes him blink. “What sort of…? All I know is that Evare brought her from the future. We’ve never said more than a word or two to each other.” “What did you talk about?” “Huh? Um, well, I greeted her and stuff? …I also asked why she was doing what Evare said.” “And then? What sort of relationship did you build?” It’s not as if he has to tell her, but Estella comes closer, pressuring him. He gets anxious, and his mouth moves on its own. “Sh-she doesn’t eat, and she mostly doesn’t react to stuff, so I dunno. She’d help me sometimes, though, so I thought she probably wasn’t a bad person… Evare’s rotten.” Remembering, Charles bites his lip. “He says she’s not real. He’s got his own story, and he got his hopes up for nothing. If I had to guess, he’s taking it out on her, but he even says she’s a doll who can’t do anything but fight, right to her face. Even so, Machina just keeps following him, like a chick. It makes you wonder what she’s thinking, you know?” “…Yes, I see.” “Just once, I asked her if she wanted to fight. She shook her head, so…I think she might actually hate fighting… I mean, I don’t know. Anyway, I feel bad for her. He treats her like she’s disposable.” Because unlike me, it’s okay if she lives. “You like Lady Machina, don’t you, Master Charles?” Charles has been empathizing in a way that borders on self-harm, but that remark shocks him out of it. “Huh?! How did you come to that conclusion?!” “You mean you don’t? I had assumed that was why you didn’t like me.” “Wh-who said I didn’t like—?” You, he’s about to say, but he stops himself. What’s the point of telling her that? The only thing he can do is send Estella safely home to the future. “Or are you still saying you don’t want to be crown prince and you don’t want to be engaged, like a spoiled child?” If she’s gotten the wrong idea, she should stay wrong. Loading his voice with cold feelings so that he’ll seem as mean as possible, Charles glares at Estella. “It’s nothing to do with you, woman.” “…Don’t call me ‘woman.’ I am—” “Don’t go pushing your ambitions onto me just because you couldn’t be holy king. Nobody needs that. Just go be holy king instead.” He doesn’t want to see the hurt in her expression, so he looks away. Clenching his fists, Charles gazes down into Machina’s apparently lifeless face. He hopes she’ll wake up soon. Having someone he’s already said goodbye to turn up right in front of him is hard on the heart, and once was enough. “That’s…true. I may have been forcing it onto you—” He feels a charged ripple of magic. Yanking Estella toward him, Charles then pushes her behind him, protecting both her and the bed where Machina sleeps. Estella is startled by the sudden movement, but then she hears the crackling, twisting space. She gulps, gazing at it. It takes time, but what finally emerges from the unstable, warped darkness is his grandfather—or that’s how they refer to Luciel, the god of demons. The other person is Serena Gilbert, the duchy of Mirchetta’s first female prime minister, whom Charles privately thinks is scary. “Hey, where are we?! It looks sort of like Ashmael, but…” “I—I don’t… I used the recoil from getting slashed with the sacred sword to teleport, as if I was being pulled, so…” Staggering, his grandfather sets his feet on the ground, and then he stares. He isn’t looking at Charles. His eyes are on the girl on the bed behind him. “Amelia…?!” “Huh? Wait— No way.” Luciel comes closer, dragging his feet. Picking up on his bitter sorrow, Charles lets him pass. Estella steps aside along with him. “It is Amelia…isn’t it? Her hair’s a different color, but…” “…Her name is Lady Machina. I’m told she’s an artificial human Lady Amelia created,” Estella tells him timidly. Luciel falls to his knees beside the bed. “We saw a girl who looked just like Grace, too. Don’t tell me she was also…” “Was her name Lucia? In that case, yes. Lady Amelia made her along with Machina. They are both supposed to be new vessels for the Maid of the Sacred Sword.” “Two Maids…of the Sacred Sword.” Eyes wide and stunned, Luciel repeats the words. Then his face crumples into a smile. “Amelia, you… Why?” He touches the back of Machina’s hand where it lies on the coverlet. Feeling that he mustn’t get in the way, Charles stays quiet. Everyone else has apparently picked up on it, too. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what made you so angry. Grace says it’s okay not to know. That probably means it’s better if I don’t understand. There’s something I thought it might be, actually, but I didn’t want it to be that. After all, you were precious to me. That made me try even harder not to think about it. When you held Grace’s head and called me a fool of a demon king and laughed, I pretended not to notice you were crying.” It’s like a religious confession. Luciel holds Machina’s hand as if he’s clinging to it. “That means you can ignore the wish I’m about to make. I’m a god, and yet I couldn’t save my wife or my sister-in-law. You can laugh, even. But…Grace is—” The body and soul, which Evare has taken away. It’s easy to imagine what’s happened. “…I know. Grace is human. We’ll have to part someday. And despite that, I can’t become a god yet… Even though seeing her one more time was all I wanted. That thing is something else, though. I’m sure it has Grace’s soul, and the strength is probably Grace’s as well. But that’s definitely not her.” Gripping Machina’s hand in both his own, Luciel goes on, head bowed. It’s as if he’s praying. “Please save her, Amelia.” His voice is thin, as if he’s about to burst into tears. He may be crying already. “I can’t stop Grace… No, it’s not just me.” Luciel looks up, chuckling a little. “The only Maid of the Sacred Sword who’s ever defeated Grace is you.” Machina’s hand twitches. Slowly, her eyes open. Estella gasps, and Serena gives a soft sigh. Luciel is startled, and then he smiles through his tears. Charles just watches it all. Both his grandfather and his father say the Maid of the Sacred Sword saved them, instead of killing them. She’s a being who’s far too familiar to be legendary. Evare must want salvation as well. That’s why he’s looking for her. I don’t need my Maid of the Sacred Sword, though. He doesn’t need to be saved. He wants to do the saving. To keep himself from losing sight of that resolve, he touches his black-gloved hand softly, from its fingers to its wrist. First, he’ll ask Machina to return Estella to the future. No, before he does that, he has to deal with Evare and the floating palace. It isn’t as if he has no sympathy for the man, but if he’s going to mess with Charles’s family, that’s another story. If Lucia has awakened as the Maid of the Sacred Sword, she’ll attack soon. And as soon as that premonition crosses his mind, the earth rumbles.
Chapter 113
33 min read