"…What?"
Father?
Arandel Helmut?
Sharen's expression turned blank.
Not missing that moment, Rizel's claws flashed past the greatsword.
"Crimson Flame Wave!"
A wave of Crimson flames burst from Sharen's greatsword, instantly engulfing Rizel.
Rizel's body lifted into the air.
Retreating backward, she wiped blood from the corner of her mouth—this was clearly different from the playful attacks she had used before.
"You were aiming for my father?"
Sharen blinked.
'She's still young, so she's easily swayed.'
Rizel smiled brightly and nodded.
If a head-on confrontation was impossible, she would pressure her mentally instead.
"Yes, your mother hasn't been dead for long, and now your father will be following her soon. What a loving couple."
"...."
"All of this is to kill Arandel. No matter what, we—"
"Are you stupid?"
"…What?"
Rizel frowned at Sharen's casual response.
"What do you mean?"
"You think my father will die? You really don't know anything."
Sharen smirked and raised her greatsword.
"My father is a monster."
A crimson aura surged around her.
As the greatsword prepared to unleash another technique—
"Crimson Flame Wave—!"
At Sharen's shout, Rizel quickly clasped her hands together, readying herself for the incoming wave of flames.
"This—!"
Sharen's voice rang out—right in front of her.
"Who do you think you are, talking about my mother like that?!"
"You—you shouted 'Crimson Flame Wave'—!"
Slice!
The greatsword swung.
Rizel's body was cleaved in two, her life ending instantly.
Resting the greatsword on her shoulder, Sharen grinned.
"This is why you announce your technique names. Hmm."
A response to Isaac's earlier question about why she bothered calling out her attacks.
"I'm not an idiot."
Sharen nodded in satisfaction.
"The one calling someone else an idiot is the real fool."
***
"Your Highness, we should move."
"…Something's off."
In front of the church building, Princess Clarice murmured as she looked around, despite her knight bodyguard, Heirad, urging her to leave.
Her expression showed that something was bothering her.
She didn't see this as a simple terrorist attack.
"Your Highness?"
"It's strange. Heirad, don't you think something is off?"
"What do you mean?"
"It's too light. For a terrorist attack, this feels too half-hearted."
Even the number of beasts wasn't that large.
Silverna had responded swiftly, handling them without much damage.
Alois's grotesque presence stood out, but Liana and Isaac's combined efforts were enough to keep him at bay.
"This is the capital of a kingdom. Do you really think this level of assault can accomplish anything?"
Clarice concluded that this attack had another objective.
"At first, I suspected it was the Transcendents' beings revenge because of Black Hand's Sword Demon, but that alone doesn't seem sufficient."
"That does seem to be the case."
"...."
Then what was their real target?
The Immediate Incident: Blackson.
The final battle with the Last Sword Demon was impactful, but up until then, Arandel Helmut had single-handedly taken on an army's worth of enemies.
The one the Transcendents were most wary of was Arandel Helmut.
Since attempts at persuasion had failed, he had become their top priority for elimination.
"All of Helmut's key forces—Lohengrin, Liana, Alois, and Sharen—are all here."
If the youngest, Edel, wasn't considered a major combatant, that left only the second son, Armin.
This was the moment when Helmut's forces were completely absent—their weakest point.
"But can they really target Lord Arandel? And in Helmut's own estate, no less?"
Even so, it was Arandel they were dealing with.
A man who rendered the balance of power meaningless.
"Especially since his illness has been kept a closely guarded secret."
"..."
Anxiety crept in.
A strange sense of unease welled up—something beyond the realm of prediction.
"What is this feeling?"
Princess Clarice felt as if insects were crawling through her mind.
Her instincts screamed that something needed to be done, but she couldn't quite explain what it was.
"Are you worried that Lord Arandel might be in danger?"
"It's too soon for a generational shift. Arandel needs to hold on for at least five more years."
"..."
"But honestly… I don't think he'll die. We've all seen it firsthand—that monstrous man."
"If that's the case—"
"That's exactly why I'm even more uneasy. What is this? Why do I feel so anxious?"
In the end, Clarice couldn't bear it any longer.
"We're heading to Helmut immediately. We'll assess the situation as quickly as possible. Get ready to depart. Prepare the Pegasus."
Pegasus.
A carriage gifted to the Albion Kingdom by the Magic Tower, known as the fastest in the world.
Reserved for royalty in emergencies, it could cut down a week-long journey to just five days.
Depending on road conditions, it could be even faster—an object of dreams for carriage enthusiasts.
"At worst, it'll take us three days to reach Helmut. If we push ourselves, we might make it in just a day."
Hoping that her unease was nothing more than an illusion, Clarice watched as Isaac and Liana fight.
***
Boom!
As Liana's greatsword swung wide, the city streets were once again painted in a deep crimson.
The sticky liquid and the stench of blood were enough to induce nausea, but Liana's expression remained calm.
"Sister! Ahh! Even the pain you give me is so sweet!"
"..."
Liana had long since stopped speaking.
The person before her had already lost any semblance of a sibling.
A deranged embodiment of obsession.
Thus, she swung her sword without hesitation.
Where did it all go wrong?
Love had always been the thing that ruined Helmut.
It had ruined her.
It had ruined Galenia.
And now, Alois was walking the same path.
Why are we all…
Falling apart like this?
Just as she was about to unleash a bitter strike, Alois's eyes gleamed with a twisted smile.
"You've let your guard down, sister!"
"...!"
As she severed his massive right arm, she momentarily failed to notice the crimson spear thrusting toward her from the opposite side.
Yet, she didn't flinch. She continued to cleave through his arm because—
Clang!
Isaac was there.
Crossing his twin blades, he intercepted Alois's crimson spear.
The crackling electricity of Bricalla surged wildly—proof that he had gained considerable control over it.
Watching Liana fight with uninhibited ferocity, thanks to Isaac's support, Alois roared in frustration.
"Stop acting like you understand everything! Don't sync your movements like some silent bond exists between you, you lowly wretch—!"
To Alois, having his right arm repeatedly severed by Liana's greatsword was less infuriating than the way she and Isaac moved in harmony.
He spat and bled as he screamed, but neither of them responded.
"Sister—! Ahh! Sisteeeeer!"
At some point, the two stopped speaking and are now straightforwardly dealing with Alois.
Perhaps sensing unease, Alois continues to desperately call out to Liana.
Perhaps sensing an unease from this, Alois desperately called out to Liana.
"Sisteeeer! Can you truly not hear my voice?! How can you ignore me so completely when I am searching for you so desperately?!"
Crunch! Crack!
"It's me! Alois! The one who has always been by your side since childhood! The one who has always been closer to you than anyone else, the one who has always been devoted to you!"
Crack! Crunch!
"I want to taste your lips! I want to lick your skin! I want to violate you! Violate you! Ahh! Over and over again, I want to make you mine!"
Crack!
Before long, his right arm was completely crushed.
Standing there, alone, Alois—now shedding tears of blood—gazed at his sister with desperate longing.
"Answer… Answer me! I—I am right here! Sister! Ahh! Sisteeeer! I am here! I have been craving your gaze! Your attention! Your voice all this time!"
Her hair fluttered, obscuring her expression. Without a word, Liana turned her body away.
Alois frantically reached out.
"Sister? W-why? Why won't you say anything to me?! Y-you have to answer! I want to violate you! I want to make you mine and—"
Thunk!
Alois's head split in half.
The gruesome sight exposed through the gap made Isaac sigh.
"Even splitting his head doesn't kill him."
"You wretch! Get lost! How dare a lowly creature like you stand between me and my sister?!"
"..."
"I can't see my sister because of you! I told you to get lost—!"
Alois swung his left hand, but it, too, was easily severed by a lightly swung blade.
And yet, Alois paid no heed to it, continuing to twist his body side to side in an attempt to catch a glimpse of Liana.
"Get lost! I said get lost! Don't block my view of my siste—!"
Thud!
A blade embedded itself in his regenerating forehead once more. For a moment, the light faded from Alois's eyes, but soon, he regained consciousness and screamed again.
"Sisteeeeer! Where are you going?! I—I am right here! The one you must kill at all costs! The younger brother who will defile you if left alive is right here!"
Slash!
This time, his entire neck was severed.
Even as his head rolled onto the ground, Alois continued shedding bloody tears and screaming.
"Why—! Why are you leaving me here?! A-are you truly going to let some lowly commoner kill me?!"
"How tenacious."
"Sisteeeeer! If I must die—! If I truly must die—! Then let it be by your hand—!"
Crack!
Isaac's sword once again crushed Alois's skull, piercing deep inside.
The expression on Alois's face, distorted in despair from being denied even the gaze of his beloved sister, was frozen in place.
A pitiful end.
And yet, Isaac found it fitting for Alois.
'That lunatic probably would have been happy to die at Liana's hands.'
Perhaps it was only now, after she had treated him with complete indifference, that Alois had truly felt despair.
"..."
Isaac withdrew his sword.
Revenge wasn't bad, but he realized he wasn't the kind of person to be blinded by it.
Was it because, in the end, it all felt meaningless?
Ever since the divorce, Isaac had been moving forward, free from the past.
Alois's death was justified, but it was not something he wanted to use as the purpose of his reborn life.
'He wasn't worth that much.'
"It's over."
Just then, Clarice stepped outside with Liana.
She approached Isaac, who was shaking the blood off his sword.
"Isaac, I've been thinking about something. Let's talk on the way. The Pegasus should be arriving soo—"
"Your Highness—!"
Running toward them like the wind, Heirad's face was drained of color.
"Ah, please, Heirad."
Clarice muttered to herself, but Heirad didn't notice and quickly reported.
"The Pegasus has been destroyed! I-It seems that the true target of the attack was the Pegasus! Witnesses say that the moment the commotion began, suddenly—"
At least three days would now be required to reach Helmut.
The true objective of the transcendents had become even clearer.
***
"...!"
Edel Helmut, the youngest of the Helmut family, was reading a book when the ground suddenly began to shake. Startled, he rushed out of his room.
At first, he thought it was an earthquake, as the mansion trembled violently as if it were about to collapse.
"Young Master!"
"P-please, you must evacuate immediately!"
The servants hurriedly gathered around Edel. Looking out the window, he saw the sky had turned blood-red, making it clear that this was no ordinary earthquake—something far more ominous was happening.
'Of all times—!'
No, perhaps it was precisely because of this timing.
With most of the direct lineage away from the mansion, this was the perfect opportunity.
"This way! Over here!"
At the entrance of the Helmut mansion, Jonathan, clad in armor, held the door open, guiding people to safety. He kept the entrance secured in case the mansion collapsed.
Stepping outside, Edel saw the sky above the gathered Helmut knights dyed in a deep crimson.
The sun and clouds had vanished, replaced by an world turned upside down where nothing seemed right. The knights' expressions were grim.
The Helmut knights had already suffered great losses during the Blackson incident. If they were to face another catastrophe here, Helmut itself might never recover.
Just then, Armin Helmut, the second son, rushed out in a panic.
"Brother! Are you alright?"
"W-what is going on?!"
Armin, usually unremarkable and easily overlooked, frantically scanned his surroundings—until his gaze landed on figures that looked human yet were distinctly different.
They were walking steadily toward the entrance, their presence ominous.
'Those are… the Transcendents!'
Edel's eyes trembled violently.
But it wasn't just fear.
It was a bitter resentment, seething rage.
The overwhelming hostility they bore toward humanity itself—this place felt like their domain.
The Helmut knights gripped their greatswords, preparing to engage.
Boom!
A heavy footstep outside the mansion froze everyone in place.
A towering presence emerged, gripping a greatsword, his figure exuding unwavering dominance. Despite his rumored illness, his aura alone was suffocating.
"Stand down."
The knights did not question, hesitate, or argue.
At their master's command, they simply stepped aside, creating a path.
A group of Transcendents strode forward, stopping before Arandel.
"Arandel of Helmut, I am 'Apostle,' one of the Primordial Transcendents," the figure declared.
"..."
"I will inform you in advance—among those who stand here today, five of us bear the title of 'Primordial' like myself."
His crimson eyes had already locked onto five exceptional individuals.
Arandel remained silent, his expression unreadable.
The 'Apostle,' with antlers resembling those of a stag, made an offer.
"This is your final chance. Surrender. If you refuse, your death will mark the beginning of war."
"..."
"Our kind holds Helmut in particularly high regard, so we wish to—"
"Sword Demon."
A low voice rumbled.
Arandel tilted his chin slightly, indicating a red-skinned man standing at the far end.
"That one—is he the Sword Demon?"
"...He belongs to that bloodline, just as Helmut has both an eldest and a second son."
Arandel was already aware that a trap had awaited him at the end of Blackson subjugation—one designed to kill him.
"Hoo, persuasion seems difficult. Shall we move to threats? There are five of us. Five beings with the power to kill you alone, at the level of the Sword demon."
"..."
"You are human—you don't wish to die, do you? And your body is failing, isn't it? We are well aware of your illness, so for now—"
"Only—"
A smirk crept onto Arandel's lips.
A grin stretched wide enough to reveal his teeth.
The greatsword in his grip had never once bowed to another.
"Only five of you?"
A crimson storm surged around him.