Lilith gave a slow, impassive nod. “You’re out of power.”
“Bingo,” Cordelia muttered. “Guess I overdid it up north. Blew through everything.”
Her berserker mode wasn’t just a spell; it was a brutal doctrine that pushed her physical limits far beyond the breaking point for a massive, temporary surge in combat strength. In the battle at the northern gate, she’d gone all in, fighting without restraint or pacing, relying on nothing but raw, unfiltered power.
And now, she was empty.
Of course, Cordelia was out of power. No one could be expected to go full throttle at the north gate, blow through every ounce of energy like a firework on its last fuse, and then just keep fighting. She’d burned herself out, and now she had nothing left to give.
Cordelia clicked her tongue, frustrated, then slowly turned her head toward Koharu. That look said it all: “You’re up.”
Koharu’s face went pale. “Me? You can’t seriously expect… I-I can’t—”
The words tumbled out in a stammering mess. She couldn’t even meet their eyes.
Lilith looked at her once. Just once. And in that single glance, her expression made it very clear what she thought.
She turned to Cordelia, voice flat with scorn. “Forget it. She’s not worth it.”
Cordelia frowned. “Excuse me?”
“Ryuto said she could do it. She says she can’t. And Ryuto doesn’t speak empty words. So either she’s lying… or she’s too afraid to try. Either way, she’s not someone we can count on.” Lilith didn’t stop there. “People who can’t do something are one thing. But people who won’t? They’re worse than useless. At least the weak can be helped. But someone who gives up from the start? That’s just dead weight.”
“Geez,” Cordelia muttered. “Tell us how you really feel.”
“I don’t need her,” Lilith said coldly. “I’ll go alone.”
And she did.
Without waiting, without hesitating, she stepped forward toward the oncoming horde, one girl against an army.
Koharu called after her, voice cracking. “Wait! Why are you doing this?! You can’t win on your own!”
Lilith didn’t slow.
“Because Ryuto told me I could. That’s all that matters. If he believes in me, then I’ll keep pushing forward. One step at a time, doing what I can until I win.”
Koharu’s voice trembled. “Why? Why do you trust him so much?”
At that, Lilith paused. Just for a second.
“Because he’s everything to me. And I’m everything to him. That’s what I believe.”
Then she walked on toward the monster swarm that had once annihilated Koharu’s entire clan.
Cordelia stayed back, watching her go. She exhaled, rubbed her temple, then gave Koharu a sideways glance that was measured and calculating, maybe even a little gentle.
“I’ve heard a bit about your past. Just enough to want to ask you something.”
Koharu’s voice came out in a whisper, thin and uncertain. “What do you want from me?”
Cordelia smiled gently. There was no smugness in it, no superiority, just quiet kindness, the kind that stripped away defenses. “Are you afraid to fight?”
The question hit harder than Koharu expected. Her lips parted, but for a moment, no words came out. Then, her voice cracked. “You don’t understand. You couldn’t. You’re not like me.” She shook her head, voice trembling. “People like you are born with courage, with the power and bravery of a Hero. Someone like you could never understand what it’s like to lose everything.”
Cordelia tilted her head, her smile shifting into something more bittersweet.
“Of course, I’m afraid.” She pointed down at her legs. “Look.”
Koharu blinked, confused, then followed her gesture and realized. Cordelia’s knees were trembling. Not enough to be obvious, but just enough to betray the truth. The girl, known as a Hero, was shaking.
“I’m terrified,” Cordelia said plainly. “Of dying. Of getting hurt. Of being captured and… worse.” Her voice hitched slightly, but she pushed through it. “It’s terrifying. And I hate it. But I have power that most people don’t. Power that can actually change things. So even if I’m scared… I don’t get to run.”
Koharu looked away, lashes lowered. Her voice came even softer now. “Then why not just leave? You could’ve walked away. Why didn’t you?”
Cordelia fell quiet. Her gaze drifted up toward the sky, her smile softening into a distant, nostalgic one. “I thought about it. I really did. A long time ago, Ryuto said to me, ‘If you hate all of this, then don’t do it. We can disappear together. Go somewhere far away, somewhere no one knows us.’”
“Then why didn’t you?” Koharu asked, barely breathing.
“Because there was someone I wanted to protect.” Cordelia’s eyes shimmered as she spoke, not with tears, but with memory. “At first, it was just one person. A quiet, kind boy. Just a Villager. I thought if I could protect him, that would be enough. That would make everything worth it.”
She let out a soft laugh, a flicker of mischief sparking across her face.
“But then, I realized he didn’t need my protection. Because he was stronger than I ever imagined.”
Koharu’s breath caught. Her eyes widened as the pieces fell into place. “You mean… the person you love is… Ryuto?”
“I made a decision,” Cordelia said quietly, her eyes steady on the horizon. “To protect the people I love. The ones closest to me, the villagers who raised me, the country that shelters them, and, eventually, this world that holds it all together.”
Then, as if that were the end of the conversation, she clapped her hands together with finality.
“That’s my belief. My conviction: to protect the people I love no matter what.”
Koharu breathed the words back at her. “Conviction…”
Cordelia gave her a sideways glance, softer now. “You don’t have to fight if you don’t want to. Ryuto once told me the same thing. But listen, Koharu… you’re one of the people I want to protect. Even if I die, I’ll be proud knowing I stood for someone like you.”
With that, she turned and began walking after Lilith, without activating her berserker power or backup. Her steps were unsteady. Her back trembled faintly. But her will was unbroken. Cordelia marched toward the horde with the strength of someone who had already made peace with fear.
Her knees, though, betrayed her, shaking so visibly now that it was painful to watch. Her body had limits. And she was nearing them.
Behind her, Koharu stood frozen, teeth clenched, eyes wide, not from fear, but from something sharper. Hotter.
“Unbelievable…” she muttered. “Every single one of you… calling me trash, calling me dead weight… acting like I’m some pathetic little thing you need to protect. You—” Her voice broke, then sharpened again. “You’re all on your last legs and still talking about protecting me when I didn’t even ask you to!”
Something inside her snapped. The helplessness, the fear, the self-loathing that had rooted itself so deep inside, it cracked, and something fierce came flooding through.
“You think you can just write me off?! Call me useless? Call me a burden? You think you can look down on me, on Koharu Saegusa, heir of the Eastern Shrine Maidens?! Raised in a lineage of divine warriors, revered by gods and feared by demons—me?!”
A half-mad grin broke across her face as she slapped her cheeks, loud and sharp. Her hands stung, but it grounded her. Brought the fire back into her blood.
She stared out at the battlefield, eyes blazing.
“Come on, Koharu. What the hell are you doing, letting bottom-feeders talk down to you like that? You’re the head of the Saegusa bloodline, the vessel of divine descent. You’re not some trembling little girl. You’re a shrine maiden of the east. The world bends to you.”
Then her hair began to rise, static dancing across each strand as if caught in a rising storm.
Something was awakening.
Something divine.
It began like static, but grander, as if the atmosphere itself was charging with divine voltage. Koharu’s long black hair, once soft and weightless, now stood on end, rigid as if locked in place by wax and steel. Not a single strand moved with the wind. It was as if her fury had rewritten the laws of gravity.
Then the air around her exploded with crackling light.
A surge of blue-white lightning spiderwebbed outward from her in a perfect circle—five meters wide, pulsing with violent energy. The ground at her feet trembled. The ozone was thick enough to taste.
All the years of scorn—being called slow, useless, a disgrace to her name—boiled to the surface. Her pride, already worn raw, had been stripped bare by Lilith’s cutting dismissal, then casually stomped on by Cordelia’s well-meaning condescension. “One of the people I want to protect,” she’d said, lumping Koharu in with the powerless and pitiful.
To a girl raised in a warrior bloodline, to a shrine maiden bred for battle, there could be no greater insult.
This awakening wasn’t born from duty.
It wasn’t justice or compassion or the desperate urge to save her classmates.
It was rage.
Pure, blinding, righteous rage. Enough to burn through years of trauma in an instant.
The electric discharge intensified. The air itself cracked and split like dry bark in a lightning storm. Her body trembled—not from fear, but from the raw power now flowing through it, unrestrained for the first time in her life.
Then, without warning, she thrust a hand toward the sky and roared.
“DESCEND, WAR GOD TAKE-MIKAZUCHI!”