The clamor of the battlefield still echoed through the night. How much time had passed since Liliana Solana Voss pushed open the doors of the assembly hall? Her body's sense of time had become distorted—she couldn't say for certain. But the wave of goblins showed no signs of stopping. Gares pushed back the right flank. Liliana wrung her magical power to its limit and unleashed a short, sharp slash, felling one creature. Berta nocked arrows from the rooftop, thinning out the densely packed front lines. Ordo braced a farming tool inside the fence, shoving the last villager into a safe zone. No one had said, "You hold that position." Yet they covered for each other without needing to be told. When Gares shifted left, Liliana sealed the gap in the center. When Ordo's feet were caught by a goblin, Berta's arrow pinned the creature in place. No one was directing them. Each of them watched the others' movements and filled the holes on their own. Liliana realized this fact as she swung her sword. She wasn't alone—and the line wasn't breaking. Rather—it wasn't breaking at all. She could see Gares's back. Black hair with red streaks, a scar above his left eyebrow. That back, which had been bearing the pressure of over a hundred goblins head-on, suddenly tilted under the blow of a club. His knees buckled. Liliana moved in without a word. Carenvieta traced an arc, sweeping away two creatures closing in from the side. Gares steadied himself. He didn't turn around—just nodded once. Liliana nodded back. Words weren't necessary. A voice came from the rooftop. "[sarcastic]You two, stop showing off and at least call out! I can't tell if you're coordinating or fighting from up here!" Liliana and Gares both swung their swords in silent unison. "[sarcastic]...Do whatever you want then." Liliana heard Berta mutter that while nocking the next arrow. Ordo's shoulders trembled slightly beyond the fence. He was laughing. How could these people laugh in a situation like this? Liliana felt exasperated—but strangely, something in her chest felt a little lighter. --- There came a time when the wave attacks thinned. The quietest hour before dawn. Liliana closed her eyes in the brief stillness. She checked her magical circuits from within. Below ten percent. The edges of the circuits were hazy. The curse marks on the inside of her arms still glowed faintly. Looking at those marks, she thought about the cracks. The final moment of the Demon Lord's subjugation. Gripping Carenvieta in both hands, she had concentrated all her magical power into a single point. She hadn't relied on anyone. She'd thought she shouldn't rely on anyone. A hero borrowing strength from her companions would be a disgrace to House Voss— That was when the cracks formed. It wasn't from the intensity of combat. The impossible strain of trying to contain everything alone had split her circuits. The breeding wedge had spread so quickly because it used those cracks as a pathway. Her greatest victory as a hero had become an infiltration route. The very way she fought—in solitude—had been her greatest weakness. She touched the hilt of Carenvieta. It was warm. For the first time tonight, it was a warmth of its own accord. Liliana opened her eyes. Why had the sword never released its true power until now—the answer settled quietly into place. From the era when it slept in the Celestia Cardinal's treasury, this blade had been designed to be wielded "together with others, for the sake of those to be protected." Liliana had always wielded it alone. That's why the sword had never given its all. "...So that's what it was." She'd spoken aloud. To no one in particular. Gares moved to her side. Pressing a blood-seeping arm with cloth, he spoke while facing forward. "[serious]Just a little longer until dawn." --- The eastern sky began to pale. At that moment, a wave of power that crawled along the earth reached them from the direction of Grauben Cave. Liliana's body went rigid the instant she sensed it. This—was incomparable to the cave's ritual magic. The scale was different. The Goblin Shaman had come. A grayish-green body with knobbed horns. A frame slightly larger than a human child, yet it radiated an abnormal pressure as it appeared before the village. The individual had realized the curse would fail with dawn and had come to the front lines as a last resort. To capture Liliana directly. The Shaman's finger traced the ground. A curse circle deployed improvisationally. Violet-black light crawled across the earth. "[angry]Scatter!" As he shouted, the Shaman released a shockwave. Gares tried to deflect it with his sword. The magical impact sent the blade flying. His whole body was hurled backward, slamming into the fence at the field's edge. He couldn't move. Ordo stepped forward to shield Berta. He took the shockwave's aftershock on his back. He rolled across the ground—the dull sound of an old body striking earth echoed across the battlefield. Berta tried to deploy a defensive formation. Her chanting trembled. She didn't have enough magical power. She could only minimize the damage to herself. Only Liliana faced the Shaman head-on. The Shaman observed Liliana. A gaze that appraised her. It began constructing the next spell. Her magical power was nearly depleted. The curse marks still crawled across her arm. Liliana couldn't move. --- Then. There was a sound. The sound of hands gripping the fence. Gares was pushing himself up. Blood traced his lips. He didn't wipe it away. He planted his knees, repositioned his sword. He stood. He wasn't in a completely mobile state. Yet he stood. Ordo planted his hands on the ground. He planted his knees. Using the farming tool as a cane, he slowly pushed his body upright. His aged back didn't straighten completely. Yet his eyes were fixed on the Shaman. Berta poured all her remaining magical power into it. A minimal defensive formation deployed around Liliana. Her chanting continued, trembling. None of them were in a completely mobile state. Yet all of them stood. Liliana saw that sight. Covered in blood, battered, aged, magical power depleted—yet all of them stood at her side. Something deep in her chest grew warm. She raised Carenvieta to the ready position. Her magical power should have been nearly depleted. Yet the sword began to emit a golden light. The small light grew stronger. As if three wills converged, the light's intensity increased. The Shaman stopped its movements for the first time before completing the spell. Fear ran across its face. And then. From the eastern sky, the morning sun broke the horizon. Something crumbled inside her body. The breeding wedge—the curse that had corroded her circuits over seven days—reached saturation as designed and collapsed from within. The violet-black marks crawling across her arm began to peel away like ash. They dissolved into the air, one by one. The sealed magical power released all at once. Light filled her entire body—an explosive amount of magical power, beyond normal limits, flooded through her for just an instant. "—I'll put everything into it." One slash. Golden light erupted from Carenvieta. It engulfed the Shaman's entire body. Its mouth opened in the shape of a scream, but no sound came out. The body burned away by the light vanished without even leaving residue. BOOM!!! The shockwave shook the ground. The goblin horde, now without command, scattered in all directions at once. They fled shrieking, stumbling, desperate to escape. Liliana drove the holy sword into the ground and collapsed to her knees. Silence returned to the battlefield. --- The morning air touched her cheek, cool and gentle. Liliana remained on her knees, gripping the sword's hilt in both hands. Not with an arrogant smile, not with dignity—just a peaceful expression, slightly weary. Ordo approached, tapping his cane with each step. One step, then another. His gait showed the pain of his aged body, yet he didn't stop, slowly kneeling beside Liliana. Liliana spoke first. "[gentle]...Thank you, very much." It wasn't the formal gratitude drilled into her by House Voss's education. It was the words of a nineteen-year-old human, forged through mud, blood, and seven days of terror. Tears spilled from Ordo's eyes. They traced his wrinkled cheeks. His salt-and-pepper short hair was illuminated by the morning light. "[crying]...It's alright." He said only that, then fell silent. Gares approached, wrapping cloth around his bleeding arm. "[serious]As a member of the Pergant Adventurers' Mutual Aid Society, I formally undertake the reconstruction support of Golan Village. Fence repairs, farmland restoration—the society will bear the costs." Ordo bowed deeply. Words seemed to fail him. Gares saw this and nodded curtly. That was enough. Berta sat down on the ground and came to Liliana's side. She hugged her knees and let out a breath. "[gentle]The Silver Apple Tavern's doors are always open. I'll treat you to a meal." "[serious]...I shall visit soon." "[sarcastic]Though lodging fees are separate." Liliana paused for a beat, then laughed softly. It was the first time she'd laughed aloud—in these seven days. --- The Parcel Highway—the main road running from Felizand through Golan Village to the northeastern reaches of the continent—Liliana walked it alone. She brought no retinue. The holy sword Carenvieta at her hip, her appearance was unchanged from when she'd arrived at this village. Yet the sensation in her feet was different. Her magical power had fully returned. Her body's wounds would heal with time. The curse marks on the inside of her arm had vanished. The terror, weakness, and human connection she'd experienced over seven days—they hadn't disappeared with the curse. Liliana looked at her right hand as she walked. The hand that gripped Carenvieta. The hand that unleashed the slash that incinerated the Shaman. The true power that hadn't awakened when she wielded it alone had answered in the moment she sought to protect alongside her companions. That fact had fundamentally rewritten the belief drilled into her by House Voss's education: "Bear everything alone." The stone pavement of the highway continued. The white castle walls of Felizand came into view. As she approached the gate, the gate guards offered a perfect salute of welcome—the same scene as the first chapter. Liliana didn't slow her pace. As she passed through the castle gate, she returned a light bow to the guards. The guards' eyes widened—though this wasn't described. Only in Liliana's profile—the deep exhaustion that had lingered since the Final Demon War finally began to fade. The limestone city of Felizand was bathed in morning light.