episode_0041

Even after reducing a considerable number of holy knights to near-death, a vast number of enemies still remained. The Holy Kingdom was pouring its full strength into this battle, quite literally.

As she fended off the relentless waves of holy knights, Arinna was devastating one direction to carve out an escape path for Lirit.

“Go!”

“Huh? But there are still holy knights left!”

“Just dodge them on your own!”

She had no time to waste on words. Arinna soared into the heart of the holy knights and unleashed a blast of icy frost in all directions.

The relentless barrage of ice spears—any ordinary knight would be too busy blocking to counter.

Yet, one man shattered her ice, evaded, and closed in. Arinna’s eyes narrowed as she watched him.

‘Who is that?’

The armor was familiar. Only one person should have been able to wear it, but the size was far from what she remembered.

Originally, it would have been two heads taller than Riel Frost in the past—maybe even three now. A man larger than Daniel. But now, it felt as though his stature had nearly halved, leaving him barely taller than Arinna.

As the armored figure rushed toward her at blinding speed, Arinna coiled mana around both hands.

She deflected the mace swinging at her and struck upward at the enemy’s helmet. The familiar helm—the Holy Knight Commander’s—was sent flying, revealing the face hidden beneath.

“You… I know that face.”

She definitely remembered seeing him somewhere, but the name escaped her. The image in her memory wasn’t an exact match—he looked younger back then…

“You’re the old Holy Knight Commander’s grandson, aren’t you? Grace, was it?”

The boy from the locket the Holy Knight Commander had shown her on the battlefield—that image overlapped with the young man standing before her now.

“Did the old man pass his position to you and retire? He was about that age.”

The Holy Knight Commander had already been an elderly man with graying hair the last time she saw him. Retirement wouldn’t have been strange, but…

“My grandfather has passed away. While you were gone.”

Suddenly, Arinna felt a weight settle in her chest. News of someone she knew dying always had that effect.

No tears came, though. Battlefields were like that.

Everyone there fought with their lives on the line. They all knew death could come at any moment.

“That look on your face—you want to blame me, don’t you?”

Grace, who had just delivered the news of his grandfather’s death, stared at Arinna with darkened eyes.

“I know it’s misdirected resentment. But I can’t stop thinking—if you had been there, maybe he wouldn’t have died.”

“Like you said, it’s misdirected. I was fighting in the demon realm—there’s no way I could’ve affected the Holy Knight Commander on the front lines.”

“But the possibility existed.”

“If you cared so much about your grandfather, you should’ve protected him yourself.”

“You’re right. But stopping the Demon King’s army with my strength alone is impossible. So instead, I’ll capture you here.”

Because I’m not strong enough, I’ll seize the person who can protect the world in our stead. At a glance, it sounded pathetic—but this was the best Grace, the newly appointed Holy Knight Commander, could do.

With the thousands of holy knights backing him, it didn’t seem impossible.

The holy knights charged at Arinna relentlessly. Even after sending dozens flying at once, their numbers showed no sign of dwindling.

‘This won’t end at this rate.’

Frost began swirling around Arinna. The precursor to Eternal Blizzard—the spell that had annihilated the Fire Knight Order.

A grand magic that would freeze every enemy before her.

But Grace, who had closed the distance in an instant, struck her with his mace.

CRACK!

It wasn’t enough to break through Arinna’s barrier, but it was enough to disrupt the casting of Eternal Blizzard.

“I heard about what happened to the Fire Knight Order. That was the spell, wasn’t it? The one that turned Klaus and his men into blocks of ice.”

The reason Arinna had won so easily against Klaus was partly because the Fire Knight Order had trusted in their strength and fought head-on. Magic had always held absolute authority in terms of firepower.

Combined with the Philosopher’s Stone and Arinna’s skill, she had overwhelmed the hundred-strong knight order.

Conversely, if they didn’t engage her magic directly, they stood a fighting chance. Grace’s skill was a significant factor in the holy knights holding their ground.

“Not bad. For your age, you’re on par with your grandfather or Klaus.”

Grace was a promising young man—gifted in combat and sharp-minded. The holy knights were the same. Though they were swept aside like fallen leaves, they fought without fear.

Their deep faith granted them unyielding courage. Right now, they just seemed like annoying fanatics—but had they been allies, they would’ve been invaluable.

The Hero’s Party had grown stronger, and Klaus and Cecil were in their prime. One might even think that now, they could defeat the Demon King.

That porter. If only he hadn’t existed.

Because of him, humanity—at the height of its golden age—was now wasting its strength fighting amongst itself.

If not for him, Arinna might have already defeated the Demon King, retired, and been living a peaceful life by now.

“Pfft.”

“What’s so funny all of a sudden?”

“Isn’t it? The bastard who truly pushed humanity toward ruin is living it up, bedding women, while the victims tear each other apart in this mess.”

And that wasn’t just a metaphor—some had literally been ruined.

“I don’t understand. Are you saying someone threatened you into running?”

“You wouldn’t get it. Even if I explained, there’s nothing you could do.”

It had started because of the porter, but the situation had long since moved beyond just him. The ruling class, out of greed, had branded Arinna a criminal, and the people blindly turned their backs on her.

Just as their perception of her had changed, she could no longer treat them as she once had.

If this is what it means to be human, then humanity deserves to perish. She’d had that thought more than once.

Suddenly, she recalled something Durahan had told her. He had said: The Demon King’s army could be an option for you.

She imagined becoming one of the Demon King’s generals and taking revenge on every human who had humiliated, scorned, and tormented her.

It was exhilarating. Thrilling.

The taste of vengeance, even in fleeting imagination, surged through her spine with a pleasure more intense than any delicacy.

It was base. Viscous. A lowly pleasure—but so sweet she couldn’t resist. If she could make this revenge real, she’d do anything.

She shook her head, dispelling the fantasy. She hadn’t fallen that far yet.

Not yet.

Snap!

Arinna flicked her fingers, and a blizzard engulfed the area. The temperature plummeted below freezing in an instant.

The holy knights’ movements slowed drastically. Their armor might have granted some resistance, but it wasn’t enough to withstand Arinna’s blizzard.

In the end, they had to rely on divine power to protect themselves.

Arinna seized the opening. While Grace was casting a holy spell, she lunged at him, kicking him far away.

Then, she unleashed a torrent of mana at the shivering holy knights struggling to gather divine energy.

With each magic circle that flared beneath their feet, the ground erupted, sending bodies flying and armor shattering.

“Stop this!”

Grace swung his mace at Arinna in a burst of fury.

“They’re not your enemies! They’re the allies you should be fighting alongside!”

“Those allies raised their weapons against me.”

Her voice and gaze were colder than the blizzard surrounding them. Grace gritted his teeth at her absolute rejection.

“What choice did we have?! The world still needs you! With that power—why won’t you save it?! If I had that strength, I would—”

His plea was cut off by Arinna’s icy tone. She looked at him with disgust, as if she couldn’t bear to hear more.

“Grace. You know this, but I wasn’t originally chosen for the Hero’s Party. I volunteered—for a friend’s sake.”

That friend was long gone now, but back then, it had been true. She had joined the fight against the Demon King not for the world, but for the one friend who had been afraid—the first to stand by her when she began her journey.

“In the party, I fought like I was ready to die. I spared no effort, battling for innocent lives and my comrades. And now—I’ve done enough.”

Why was the world so fixated on Arinna alone? Of course—because they couldn’t forget the achievements of Riel Frost.

The current Hero’s Party had defeated more of the Demon King’s generals than all previous parties combined, offering hope that the centuries-long dream of slaying the Demon King might be realized in this era.

And over the years, everyone had come to realize how much of that difference was owed to one mage: Riel Frost.

“What I’m saying is—I, who was never meant to be in the Hero’s Party, have already done more than enough. I have no obligation to do more.”

If she bore any responsibility, it was for giving people hope. But since they had turned their backs on her, she owed them nothing.

Grace fell silent, closing his mouth. Arinna had, at the very least, accelerated the defeat of the Demon King by a century.

Demanding more from someone who had already given so much was nothing short of shameless. Was it right to corner her like this, weapons drawn?

A pang of guilt weighed on him. Yet, he still wished she would fight for them a little longer.

How can I justify this? Grace lowered his head.

The moment he questioned whether their actions were right, his grip on his weapon weakened.

“Still, you seem reasonable. I won’t kill you—just stay down quietly.”

Arinna raised a hand toward Grace. The spell to take down a Holy Knight Commander-level opponent required time to cast.

And then—

Amid the blizzard that blotted out the sun like the heart of winter, a single ray of warm light pierced through.

Arinna looked up, tilting her head high to see the sunlight breaking through her storm.

“Ha.”

Her lips twisted into a smirk.

Finally, she’s here.

That was no ordinary sunlight.

Arinna’s blizzard melted away.

Clank. Clank.

The creaking of armor filled the air as the fallen holy knights rose to their feet.

Those on the brink of death were now fully healed, as though they had never been injured.

Only one person in this world could perform such a miracle.

“Marika.”

The woman hovering in the sky, hands clasped as if summoning a second sun, radiated a divine presence—like a goddess descending upon the world.

The Saint of this era had arrived, dispelling the Archmage’s winter and restoring every holy knight to full strength.