Eris, born as a kin of the Star Crystal Beast Orleon, the very source of Mana that governs the world, carries an innate destiny. To stop the world's destruction brought about by human greed, she unleashes the forbidden magic 'Apocalyptic Seven Swords.'
Her sole purpose is to eradicate the exploitation of Mana by humans and to protect the life of the star. This is her answer to the countless cries of life she has witnessed over centuries. But humans call her 'the Last Boss who will destroy the w
Last Peril of the Supreme Star - The Sword That Devours Stars
A gaunt hand sprawled in the alley slowly reached toward the sky. The cold air touching its fingertips was the temperature of a city whose mana-lights had gone out.
The lower district of Graustadt, commonly known as the Ashsmoke Quarter, was far quieter than usual. Too quiet, even. Though it was still daytime, dim shadows fell across the alleys, and the poor huddled together, sitting motionless. No one spoke. They no longer had the strength to open their mouths.
Whitefang Castle, perched on the central heights of the city, was supposed to illuminate this sleepless capital. At night, the mana-lights would glitter like stars, granting a faint pride even to those gazing up from the lower wards. But those lights had not burned properly for days now.
The price of mana crystal had tripled. No one quite knew why. Only that the crystals harvested from the star were running short. That was what everyone said. The Extraction Institute's rations dwindled, and heating and light vanished first from those without coin.
From deep in the alley came the cry of a baby. A thin, reedy sound, as if searching for air. A young mother sat slumped against the wall, clutching the child, unmoving. Her eyes were open, but unfocused.
Celestina Mireth stopped at the sight.
She wore the apprentice robes of a shrine priestess, unmistakable at a glance. Her softly waving, pale golden-brown hair was tied in two bunches above her ears, adorned with a single white flower. Her large, young-leaf-green eyes reflected the reality before her. Her lips trembled faintly.
"……No way…"
The words reached no one, swallowed by the damp air of the alley.
She had been taught in the church. The star bestows mana upon humanity. By sharing that blessing, this world becomes rich and peaceful. She had believed that. She had tried to believe it.
But before her eyes lay people collapsed from hunger and cold.
(*This is wrong. Where did the star's blessing go?*)
The answer lay nowhere. What lay scattered about were only emaciated bodies and empty ration bags.
She was on her way back from the cathedral. Returning from offering beautiful prayers in the upper prayer hall, as she did every day. The priests had smiled gently. The chapel had been warm. Mana-lights were used in abundance, and even the air itself had glowed softly.
That light, and the darkness of this alley, existed in the same city.
Wrong. This is wrong. What is this feeling?
She made the gesture of prayer. Her trembling fingers interlaced, and she closed her eyes. The words of prayer caught in her throat.
"……I'm sorry."
She herself did not know what she was apologizing for.
The wind blew. Trash and dust swirled, rattling dryly. From the direction of the upper district came the heavy tolling of prayer bells. It was the hour of evening prayer.
Celestina began walking quickly back the way she had come. The white flower ornament swayed. Her heart swayed far faster.
Returning to the cathedral, she made her way toward the storehouse, avoiding notice. The Mireth Cathedral, Graustadt Main Temple. A magnificent stone cathedral standing in the middle district. A chapel that could hold two thousand, its walls lit bright as day by the finest mana-lights.
The storehouse door smelled of old wood. Of honey and dried bread. The pale light of mana crystal leaked from a white casing set atop a shelf.
She took a single deep breath. Then she pulled one wooden crate toward her. Inside were hard bread and dried meat. On the neighboring shelf, small silver cloth pouches were stacked. Mana crystal ration bags. Each pouch held a few small stones, meant for the church to distribute to poor believers.
(*If I'm caught, it won't end lightly.*)
Her fingers trembled. The sound of her heartbeat quickened deep in her ears. Even so, she stuffed bread into a cloth pouch. She added a little extra mana crystal, too.
"The star gave its blessings to be shared……"
So she murmured, and left the storehouse behind.
When she returned to the Ashsmoke Quarter, the scene from before had grown even darker. People curled into small balls against the walls, simply enduring as the dusk stole the warmth from their bodies.
Celestina handed out the ration pouches, one by one.
"Please eat this right away. Warm your bodies."
Her voice trembled.
"There are mana stones too."
An old woman wrapped Celestina's hand in both of hers and recited words of prayer over and over. A single tear spilled from the young mother's eyes.
She could only help a handful. Still, it was far better than walking away.
The moment that thought crossed her mind, footsteps sounded from behind.
"Celestina."
A low, composed voice. A man's voice, aged.
She turned to find Benedict, head priest of Mireth Cathedral, standing there. White vestments. A silver emblem of a star-crystal beast at his chest. His complexion was pale, and his eyes regarded her quietly, but coldly.
"What are you doing here?"
The voice was not a question. It was the preamble to judgment.
Her body froze as if turned to stone. Bread crumbs remaining on her hand fell through the gaps between her fingers.
"……Alms. I was giving alms."
"By whose permission?"
She could say nothing.
"I do not forgive those who break the church's order."
Benedict's voice rang coldly through the alley. The surrounding air seemed to freeze.
"What you are attempting is a betrayal of the sacred teachings. The blood of heresy may well flow through that young body of yours."
(*Heresy…?*)
Her heart pounded painfully. Her lips went dry.
Trembling, she slowly knelt on the spot. The cobblestones were cold.
"……I am sorry."
Her voice was hoarse.
(*But I'm not wrong. I'm not wrong at all.*)
Something burst deep in her heart. A nameless unease, too young to take shape as words, swelled within her.
She bit her lower lip and glared fixedly at the cold cobblestones.
—Whitefang Castle. The Stargazing Chamber.
The Seven Pillars Council had been convened in emergency session. The ceiling bore a map of the entire continent, brilliantly illuminated by mana-lights. Along the long table hung a screen of fine cloth.
Yet the seats were few. Four in attendance. The rest, despite the emergency, had not shown their faces.
Cassius Heidel, Director of the Extraction Institute, sat quietly in a seat at the far end of the table. His silver-gray hair, receding at the forehead, was carefully smoothed back. His small, pale-blue eyes were shaped into a smile. They were not smiling eyes.
"Now then, there are two items on the agenda."
His voice was soft and carried well. But that softness was, if anything, unsettling.
"The first is that Vesper Project. There has been new progress."
"Silence."
Another aged, cunning voice cut him off. The Director of Military Affairs on the Seven Pillars Council.
"Is that what you came to discuss? People are dying before our very eyes."
"Yes, I am well aware."
Cassius smiled.
"Which is precisely why this council is necessary. —The second item: the reactivation of the last familiar, Eris. And the abnormal mana depletion of the ley lines."
The air in the room tensed in an instant.
"That little wench is moving again?"
"Is this mana shortage all her doing?"
Cassius tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes a fraction.
"Who else could it be?"
A pause.
"At a ley-line nexus in a key location of the Noir Great Forest, an unidentifiable light manifestation has been observed during the late-night hours. It coincides exactly with the onset of the mana depletion."
Every gaze in the room converged on him.
"Summon the Star's Chosen."
His thin lips curled upward.
Before long, footsteps echoed down the stone corridor.
Kaito Veldorunt stood before the heavy doors of the Stargazing Chamber.
Short black hair with a faint trace of deep crimson. Disheveled from battle, the right side alone stuck up. His burning red-brown eyes carried a composure beyond his years.
Height: one hundred eighty-three centimeters. The Star's Chosen. The strongest sword raised by the Kingdom of Feldorunt.
"Kaito Veldorunt, reporting as summoned."
His voice was utterly earnest. His back was straight, his gaze fixed forward.
Cassius looked at his face and smiled with what seemed to be genuine delight.
"Well come. Raise your head, Sir Kaito."
Kaito lifted his face. Before him were the old man's pale-blue eyes.
"Only you can save this country. No—perhaps I should say, only you can save this star."
Cassius's manner of speaking was gentle, as if telling an old tale. The mana-light filling the room cast shadows across his face.
"As you know, the mana crystal supply is on the verge of collapse. The people of the lower wards are dying of hunger and cold at this very moment."
Cassius lowered his tone with deliberate, theatrical sorrow.
"The cause is one who lurks in the Noir Great Forest. A single familiar: Eris. She interferes with the ley lines and halts the flow of mana. She is killing the people, killing the country, trying to kill this star."
A heavy silence filled the room.
"You can do this. Your sword was nurtured to protect the people as a child of the star. Is that not so?"
Kaito felt something growing hot within him.
The day he lost his family, long ago. The burning village, the collapsed house. The lives he could not protect had slipped through his fingers. He would never forget that helplessness.
"……Protecting the people is my mission."
Kaito spoke in a serious voice.
Cassius nodded repeatedly, satisfied.
Kaito did not miss that gaze.
(*……What is this man looking at? He's not looking at me… as a person?*)
For just an instant, something cold ran down his spine.
But the old man immediately smiled and continued in a tone that praised the young man.
"Then I ask you once more. Go to the Noir Great Forest with the elite of the Dusk Lance. Slay the familiar Eris."
"I accept."
Kaito bowed his head firmly.
Cassius Heidel was not looking at his head, but at the gauntlet bearing the star crest, hanging at his right hand. A sword. A weapon. Not disposable—an expensive consumable.
The old man's thin lips moved once more, without sound.
*Convenient.*
—The Noir Great Forest. Deepest reaches. The Altar of Dawn.
Moss-covered flagstones glowed faintly. The roots of colossal ancient trees crawled across the ground like the veins of the star itself.
Eris stood at the center of the altar.
Long silver-white hair, as if moonlight had been melted and poured. It reached to her waist, faintly luminescent where it touched the pale air. In her deep azure eyes, flecks of gold sparkled like stars depending on the light.
Pure white priestess-style robes. At the collar, a silver-threaded band embroidered with the star-crystal beast's crest. At her waist, a small bell tied with a deep crimson cord. With each movement, a single clear note rolled into the night forest.
From her left shoulder, across her collarbone and down her back, a pale blue star-crest spread across her skin. The mark of the star's sacrifice. The seal that had bound this life to the star for three hundred years.
She looked at the hundreds of grave markers lined beside the altar.
"……Everyone."
The wind blew. Old leaves fluttered and danced.
Pain shot through the left side of her body.
The star's scream pierced through her. A dull ache resounding from deep within the ley lines. She could hear the voice of the earth, which no human could perceive.
The star was suffering. Its mana squeezed out, its blood drained, its bones crushed.
Eris quietly lowered herself to one knee. The hem of her white robe touched the damp earth.
"I'm sorry. I should have done this sooner."
She called to mind the faces of her former comrades, as if they floated before her.
They had all protected the ley lines. Some had tried to live alongside humans. Some had loved humans.
And still, the humans killed us.
Her left hand touched the ground. A freezing cold. The star's pain flowed in through her fingertips.
(*
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