Eldert reflexively swung his sword, with no time to order his subordinates to protect Eripony. Was it because she was a magic swordswoman? He hadn’t sensed her approach at all.
Clang!
Barsabe deflected Eldert’s sword with an arrow still lodged in her side, and simultaneously, the sword she held crumbled like sand and disappeared.
Eldert wasn’t the only one surprised. Barsabe’s pupils dilated and her movements slowed visibly. She clenched her teeth and tried to leap back down the hill.
“Capture that one!”
The broken bowstring must have scratched Eripony’s cheek. The king clutched her wounded cheek and shouted, as Eldert and his soldiers jumped down the hill in pursuit of Barsabe.
The sword Barsabe had been using was a unique weapon created from her own magic power. But having taken a direct hit from an Idgal arrow, her magic was neutralized.
Barsabe tumbled down and snatched a sword from a corpse’s grip.
“Damn it.”
Clang! Clang!
Would she still be of any value in this battle without magic? Barsabe pulled the arrow from her side with her own hands and watched as blood gushed out like a fountain. How was she any different from the corpses strewn about?
Eldert quickly caught up, his teal hair fluttering as he grabbed Barsabe by the nape of her neck.
“A magic swordswoman from the Royal Guard.”
“Let go!”
Thud! Thud!
Barsabe drove her knee into Eldert’s solar plexus, but met only hard armor. He forced Barsabe to kneel and subdued her firmly.
He knew the neutralization from Idgal was temporary. It would be more advantageous to take her prisoner rather than kill her, as preparation for later.
Though causing injury to the king’s face warranted execution, Eldert twisted Barsabe’s shoulder back and muttered:
“You’ll receive your punishment separately later.”
He intended to dislocate her shoulder.
Barsabe felt a chill down her spine and squeezed her eyes shut. Pain was coming, so accept it without surprise. Don’t stain the Royal Guard’s honor with an awkward scream.
Just as she bit down hard on her lower lip—
Swoosh!
An axe flew in as if to sever Eldert’s neck.
He barely turned his head in time, sacrificing some hair to avoid death.
Barsabe raised her gaze from her prone position. It was Maxim Tweller, the new Minister of Bariel’s Imperial Defense Department, whom she’d seen a few times in passing. He stood on the opposite hill with his subordinates, chewing on a cigarette.
“I go around Dead Land once and come back to this mess.”
“Bariel’s reinforcements!”
Maxim identified Barsabe at a glance. And also her side wound and Eripony’s broken bow.
As Maxim nodded, his subordinates charged down simultaneously to rescue Barsabe.
Swoosh!
Barsabe didn’t miss the opportunity. She slashed the Achilles tendon of the Ruswena soldier holding her, then staggered toward the Bariel soldiers.
In the chaotic battlefield where it was impossible to distinguish friend from foe, Barsabe simply cut down anyone in her path to survive, rushing toward Maxim.
With her at the center, soldiers from Bariel and Ruswena charged at full speed, colliding with each other.
Clop clop!
“Don’t let her escape!”
“It’s a magic swordswoman! Bring her here!”
“Arghhhh!”
“Move! Damn it!”
Had her strength also fallen to that of an ordinary person with her magic disrupted? Barsabe broke through the crowd, sweating profusely.
Eldert tried to grab her hair. And just barely ahead of him, a subordinate of Maxim caught Barsabe’s hand. She was pulled onto a horse and leaned against the soldier’s back while clutching her side. From the opposite hill, Eripony glared at her with furious eyes.
Barsabe stared back without blinking, countering her gaze. A faint smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.
While Eripony and Ruswena were focused on her, what was happening in the sky?
Boom!
A wave of scorching heat rippled across the sky. Even Eripony, quite far away, had to shield her face with her sleeve.
It was Ian and the Ministry of Magic engaging with Ruswena’s mages at full power. Looking at the battle situation, rather than engagement, one side was pushing overwhelmingly.
“Ugh!”
The old woman and Ruswena’s mages faced them with a very thin protective barrier. What they had barely managed to create was just holding against the force.
Everyone was tense to the point of panic, feeling that one wrong breath could disrupt the barrier. To be honest, it seemed like the other side was somewhat restraining their power, creating a sense of defeat stirring beneath their hearts.
Swoosh.
Ian lightly ran his fingertips over Ruswena’s protective barrier. Even early spring pond ice would be sturdier than this.
He smiled lightly and gradually applied pressure. Cracks appeared like breaking glass from where Ian had touched.
“Mages are those close to gods. Though we stand opposed due to different nationalities, honestly, I’m not pleased about killing you. Aren’t ‘we’ beings who bond through our special powers?”
“Grandmother!”
Blood began flowing from the old woman’s nose and ears. She had used too much magic for her aged body. When the child shouted in alarm, Ruswena’s mages scolded sharply.
“Jaira! Focus!”
Ian’s gaze shifted from the old woman to the child, whose eyes had reddened and chubby cheeks flushed.
“…If you surrender now, I’ll spare your lives.”
“What should we do?!”
“Don’t talk! Just keep focusing on the barrier!”
“This is neither Bariel’s nor Ruswena’s land, but Clifford’s. You may not know this. The more power we use, the more we stimulate the fissures in the Gaia continent.”
The old woman frowned. But whether it was due to unfamiliar information or from strain, it was impossible to tell. Perhaps both.
“It’s Burgos’s scheme to redistribute the northern fissure to the south. If Clifford becomes flooded with magical beasts, not only Bariel but also nearby Ruswena will suffer. This is my final offer. Surrender and I’ll spare you, resist and I’ll break this. Neither magic nor time—there’s nothing to gain by dragging this out.”
Ian pressed the barrier again firmly. The cracks grew larger. The old woman felt the heat seeping through and her mind went blank.
‘Fissures? The king never mentioned such a thing.’
And above all, is there evidence of fissures beneath Clifford’s land? Besides this person’s word?
The old woman briefly looked at her sobbing grandson and caught her breath.
“Ian Hielo. I won’t thank you for your mercy. This is a battlefield, I am a citizen of Ruswena, and our king holds our lives.”
They have families. If they kneel to Bariel here, their families left in Ruswena would kneel before the god of death.
Just as the old woman reached into her inner pocket as if resolved—
“Foolish—!”
Boom! Boom!
Ian angrily shattered the protective barrier completely. Those barely holding on tumbled backward from the heat wave, and those fighting on the ground once again flattened themselves to calm their fear.
“Lord Ian!”
“Grandmother!”
Ian’s flame deity poured out its rage. Rough, splendid, and incomprehensibly powerful anger.
But it was also an attack that felt somehow sorrowful. A silent and minimal compassion for one who had made the wrong choice.
Kwaaang!
All Ruswena’s mages hunched their bodies, bracing for pain.
But strangely, they didn’t feel the heat. The child cautiously opened his eyes and discovered his grandmother muttering something with her limbs hanging limply.
“Kill the old woman! Now!”
The Ministry of Magic just stared in confusion at whatever that was, and Ian shouted. Then they realized. The old woman had offered her blood to magic and invoked forbidden magic to face an opponent she couldn’t otherwise overcome.
‘Eternal curse.’
The despair of mages who defy natural law and fall into the abyss.
Boom! Kwaaang! Boom!
But just like with Wesley, the power of ordinary mages couldn’t reach the old woman. Like tiny sparks shot into space, their attacks disappeared into darkness.
Ian clenched his teeth and mobilized all his strength to try to burn the old woman. He had to eliminate her before it progressed further, before she gained the power she truly wanted.
“Lord Ian!”
The flame deity bent its massive body to try to grab the old woman.
But it wasn’t easy. Like with Wesley, approach was possible, but the difference in power was overwhelming.
Perhaps while Wesley’s anger was focused on breaking the magic-sealing stone and confronting Gail, what the old woman wanted was power strong enough to bring victory in the war. She was willingly falling into a deep abyss knowing the consequences.
The standoff between Ian and the old woman continued intensely.
“Lord Ian! Wait, Lord Ian!”
“Don’t interfere with Lord Ian!”
“But—!”
A rift also appeared among the Ministry of Magic.
Some tried to stop Ian, who was continuously bleeding, while others tried to stop them. Even after taking amplifiers, they were of no help now, and the department members were feeling the depths of despair to the bone.
Everyone was wet. Some with sweat, some with tears, and some with blood.
“Damn it!”
Akorella frantically searched her pockets, looking for any remaining amplifiers.
There was no hope like this. If they were in Bariel, in the palace, perhaps they could get help somehow…
“We should also…”
Someone muttered.
“Shouldn’t one of us also use forbidden magic?”
If Ian was struggling this much, wouldn’t it be right for someone from the Ministry of Magic to sacrifice themselves? If the other side has gone that far, shouldn’t we match them? Is just watching from behind Ian the answer?
Noticing everyone’s thoughts descending into chaos, Ian wiped blood with the back of his hand and shouted:
“One foolish choice is enough!”
That old woman, who threw herself into hell despite being warned about Clifford’s fissures, that foolish old woman.
“Do you not trust me?!”
Ian clenched his teeth.
Further magical stimulation would only poison everyone. And he no longer wanted Bariel’s Ministry of Magic members, those who followed him, to fall into hell.
Naum was enough. Surviving through someone’s sacrifice, not overcoming but avoiding—that ends with Naum.
Ian recalled the faces of the Ministry of Magic members who had surrounded him with smiles and shouted again:
“What did I say earlier?!”
Kwaaang! Kwang!
The flame deity burned fiercely. The old woman’s fingertips twitched, and soon her body, infused with forbidden magic, came to its senses and raised its head.
The old woman was crying. Whether it was a genuine emotion rising up or not, it was hard to tell.
“You are my back.”
Ian finally coughed up blood.
At that, Akorella muttered curses and approached Ian. She might not be able to reach the forbidden magic, but she could reach Ian. Because she was Ian’s back.
“Damn it all!”
Zing! Zing!
Akorella transferred all her magic to Ian. Seeing this, the Ministry of Magic members rushed in one by one, simultaneously, their golden eyes flashing.
A faint smile appeared on Ian’s blood-stained face. It was warm. He felt the flame deity’s heat intensifying.
“Lord Ian! We’re behind you!”
“Yes! If you wish to retreat, throw yourself back!”
“Even if you don’t want to retreat, tell us! We’ll endure!”
“We can endure!”
“Haaaaaah!”
Boom! Kwaaang!
In place of Ian’s response, the flame deity immolated itself and lunged at the old woman.
The old woman waved her hands as if to brush away the Flame Magic pouring down on her, and the world was once again dyed in brilliant light.