episode_0046

“Hng…!”

The Saintess, Marika’s pupils tremble violently. Standing before her is her childhood friend.

A person she once vowed to save, even at the cost of her own life—her unrequited love. But now, they were someone she could never be with again.

That same friend is now glaring at her with fierce, murderous intent, weaving a spell to kill her.

How had their relationship deteriorated this far?

Fifteen years of unrequited love. That’s what she had called it, but the truth was, they had met long before then. If she counted the time before she even realized her feelings, it might have been even longer.

Letting go of such deep affection wasn’t easy. Still, Marika had once managed to neatly tie up her feelings.

Walking behind the Hero and the Sorceress—two whose very presence together painted a picturesque scene—she couldn’t help but acknowledge it. She could never fit between them.

At first, she simply needed something else. Anything, even if it wasn’t a person.

Work, hobbies, objects—anything to pour her heart into and forget her heartbreak. And as luck would have it, what happened to be nearby was the man their companion, Leona, had brought along—a porter.

Now, looking back, she knew it was all an act. But when they first met, the porter reminded her of the young Liel Frost.

A boy with boundless curiosity, a warm personality, and an open heart that drew others to him. That boy’s image overlaying the porter’s allowed Marika to let her guard down around him.

And before long, she ended up doing… that for the first time.

After that, things spiraled out of control. The porter’s attitude changed abruptly, provoking conflicts with her childhood friend. No matter how hard she tried to mediate, her efforts were pointless.

To any observer, it was blatantly clear that the porter was being unreasonable, and even Marika couldn’t deny how ugly his behavior was.

But by then, she had already become a body incapable of resisting the porter. So in the end, she could do nothing.

Lost in pleasure and obediently following the porter’s commands, by the time she came to her senses, she had already ruined her friend with her own hands.

It was too late for regrets. Her friend was already broken, and their relationship had reached a point of no return.

Tsk.

A shortsword slid smoothly from Alina’s waist, ringing sharply in the air. It was a concealed blade she had prepared upon leaving the Felix family’s territory.

Now, with that very blade in hand, Alina advanced—determined to drive it into the one who had once been her friend.

“Gh—guh…!”

Even imbued with divine power, Marika couldn’t withstand the pressure. She fell to her knees.

Prostrate on the ground, she looked up at her approaching friend gripping the sword. The eyes staring back at her weren’t those of a friend anymore. They mirrored the same cold gaze Alina had once worn while fighting the Demon Lord’s armies.

“I didn’t mean for things to turn out this way…”

Tears welled in Marika’s crimson eyes.

She had genuinely loved this person. They had been her most precious friend. Why had it come to this?

For once, the fog that had always clouded her mind—the numbness that had stifled her reason and hesitation—was silent.

Alina gripped the dagger in a reverse grip as she closed in on Marika.

Her mind was consumed by one thought: The Saintess must die.

Leona was buried under rubble, but given her resilience, she was likely still alive. With her mana completely drained though, killing her now would be excessive.

Marika was in no state to resist. If she could just finish Marika here, Erwin would naturally be taken out of the picture as well.

A life of permanent disability—never receiving healing—would be a fate worse than death. Whether it came to that or not, letting Marika leave unharmed was never an option.

“Saintess!”

The only person still capable of moving—Grace—placed himself between Alina and Marika. Pope Arkazal had already collapsed after granting him buffs.

“Stop this! Liel-san, I’ve heard you and the Saintess were dear friends for years. So why would you go this far?!”

“We were. But six years ago, that friendship was betrayed.”

“I don’t know what happened between you. But even if you were wronged, does that justify revenge? If we heed the Goddess’ teachings—”

“‘Forgive and love thine enemy.’ Right?”

Grace fell silent. Liel Frost was born and raised in the Holy Nation—of course she’d heard those words before. Instead of looking surprised, she narrowed her eyes, shooting Alina a frosty glare.

“So knowing this, you still chose revenge.”

“There was a time when I’d recite those words thoughtlessly too. ‘Revenge only makes you as guilty as the one you hate.’ ‘Breaking the cycle of hatred is true strength.’ But when I became the victim, it wasn’t so simple anymore. I considered myself logical—rational—yet when confronted with hatred, I became blind, driven only by vengeance.”

An ironic tragedy, really. The one who had preached righteousness while secretly consumed by wrath was now the very picture of hypocrisy.

But Alina had at least some justification, however flimsy.

“Grace, I was robbed—not just of my future, but of my entire existence. You call me Liel—I even call myself Liel—but am I really her? I don’t fully exist in this world. Do you expect someone without a clear identity to heed moral platitudes?”

Liel as a woman? Or an unrelated vessel inheriting Liel Frost’s will and grudges? Whichever she was, Alina couldn’t back down now.

“Regrets and repentance can come after I reclaim what was taken from Liel Frost.”

As if gravity itself had shifted, every object in the vicinity was pressed flush against the ground—except Grace. His body rose into the air unsupported.

“Eh—wh-what?!”

The sudden weightlessness threw Grace off-balance as he flailed mid-air. For the newly appointed Holy Knight Captain, his combat skills were impressive, but this lack of experience was telling.

“I don’t have time left. Let’s end this.”

Grace was flung far beyond any hope of intervention.

Once again, only the two former friends remained.

“Let’s finish this, Marika.”

Under the crushing pressure, as if an entire building weighed down on her, Marika struggled to lift her head.

“Liel…”

No more obstacles stood in the way. Just as Alina took a step forward—

BOOM.

A distant sound made her freeze mid-step. She turned her head.

With the city’s towering architecture reduced to rubble by her magic, nothing obstructed her view.

Far in the distance—beyond the Empire’s checkpoint she had passed earlier—tiles shattered as something tore through them. The shockwave carved a straight path directly toward her.

The force split the earth, sending debris flying as it swept past Alina.

The precision of the slash left her expression rigid.

Finally.

At the far end of that slash—beyond what the eye could see—

The woman who had once been her lover had arrived.

“How is Yuria here?!”

Only a few hours had passed. Just earlier, Alina had spoken to the Porter through a crystal orb. Had she already been on her way then?

No, impossible. If she had, she wouldn’t have arrived so late—nor would she have come from the checkpoint.

“She’s outside,” the Porter had said. He never mentioned her being in the village.

Given the Hero’s superhuman physicality, ordinary people—even Alina—would only slow her down. The Hero could march for three days straight without rest or food.

The logical conclusion was that Yuria had sprinted the entire way, arriving at the Empire’s checkpoint just as Alina and the Porter finished speaking.

Had Alina relaxed upon learning the Porter was still far away, she would’ve faced the entire Hero’s party at once.

But avoiding the worst-case scenario didn’t mean the current situation was favorable.

—

Meanwhile, on the Empire’s side, cheers erupted as the Hero appeared. Alina’s magic had naturally cast darkness over the nearby imperial city as well.

Emerging from that darkness, bathed in golden light, the Hero drew crowds who raised their hands in jubilation.

For a moment, they had believed the world was ending. Their fervor was so overwhelming that even the Hero seemed slightly flustered.

“Haha, everyone, you can calm down now.”

Waving her hands to settle the crowd, Yuria drew the Sacred Sword strapped to her back.

Gripping the massive blade—rivaling Leona’s greatsword—with both hands, she took aim at the colossal moon filling the sky.

“Here I go!”

—

SWOOSH!

Following the arc of the Hero’s sword, a colossal slash tore through the heavens. The Eclipse Moon, already on the verge of fading, was effortlessly cleaved and dispersed.

“Haah… Cough!”

Watching helplessly, Alina spat blood and collapsed.

“Alina! Are you okay?!”

Marine rushed to her side in a panic.

“Marine… Just mana exhaustion. I’m fine.”

Both Alina and Marine were spent. Fighting the Hero in this state was impossible.

In this plaza, the only enemy still capable of moving was Grace—now flung far away. They needed to flee, but Alina couldn’t—not yet.

Marika. I have to kill her now.

Though she still gripped the dagger, even lifting her legs felt like a struggle.

“Marine. Can I ask you for one thing?”

“Now of all times? What?”

Alina pressed the dagger into Marine’s hand.

“Kill Marika. Kill the Saintess.”

“Wha—?”

This wasn’t something the real Alina would ever ask. But consumed by vengeance, exhausted, her judgment dulled, and desperate not to waste this chance—

Under normal circumstances, she would’ve known Marine’s aversion to killing. She would never have pushed her own revenge onto someone else.

“Please. If not now, we may never get another chance to take down the Hero’s party one by one. Marika has to die here.”

“B-But if the Saintess dies, the Demon Lord—”

Alina clicked her tongue in irritation.

“Tch, you too? Who cares about the Demon Lord? Let the next generation deal with it!”

“Th-That’s…”

That’s too irresponsible, isn’t it? What about the people suffering now?

Though the thought crossed Marine’s mind, she swallowed it. Instinct told her reason wouldn’t reach Alina right now.

“Just admit it! You just don’t want to dirty your own hands!”

Seeing Marine hesitate, Alina shoved her away in frustration.

Without support, Alina collapsed again.

“Alina…”

“Forget it. I’ll do it myself… Cough! Hack!”

Blood continued to spill from her lips. She had long pushed herself past her limits. Trying to squeeze out even a drop of mana only made her cough up more blood.

Clink.

A glass vial rolled across the ground, dislodged when she fell.

Inside, a dark energy pulsed.

“Mana… taint.”

As if entranced, Alina picked it up. She hadn’t tested its safety—hadn’t tested anything about it. But one thing was certain:

This was her only remaining means of revenge.

Her grip on the vial tightened.

Crack.

The fragile glass didn’t last long.

SHATTER!

Shards sliced into her hand as the vial broke. Blood dripped onto the dark energy, which then coiled around her wound.

The taint seeped into her veins, spreading through her body. Black veins surfaced across her skin. The sight was so alarming that Marine’s eyes widened in horror.

“Alina!”

“Ghh—GAHH! SCREEEECH!”

“Alina, you—!”

Words failed her. How could you go this far?!

Alina’s screams gradually subsided. As she steadied herself and raised her head, her eyes—no longer blue—glowed violet.

Those eyes locked onto Marika, who stared back in shock.

“Liel… Did I… make you like this…?”

No answer came. Alina’s finger lifted, dark energy swirling at its tip.

The sinister aura made Marika instinctively gather divine power. With the moon gone, she could feel the Goddess’ presence again.

CRACKLE.

The taint split into countless tendrils, lashing toward her.

Marika watched them come—then, at the last moment, let her spell falter.

She did nothing. Only closed her eyes and smiled peacefully.