A heavy silence settled over the room. No one seemed to know how to respond to Genau's proposal.
In all fairness — while Fíliya had caused a catastrophe that had thrown the entire continent into chaos — things had not yet reached their most critical breaking point. And among those present, more than a few were people who... did not want to kill Fíliya.
The awkward silence stretched on for a full minute. Genau, seeming to finally realize something, scratched the back of his head and spoke.
"...Sorry. I said something out of turn again. If I'm being honest — I don't want to kill her either."
He wasn't saying it just to ease the tension. Fíliya was, after all, a junior he had watched grow up. Their relationship had never been particularly warm — she'd stuck her middle finger at him more than once during their many arguments — but he had never once thought of her as an outsider.
"No... your proposal was correct and reasonable."
Seeing Genau back down, Serie had no choice but to pick up the thread. As the highest-ranking person present, it fell to her to pass judgment on Genau's suggestion.
"We cannot ignore 'killing Fíliya' as an option," she said. "But if possible, I would like to push that choice to the very last. Before we get there, let's try other approaches first. If the path of 'reaching her through words' fails — then we can consider direct confrontation. Does that work for everyone?"
Flamme spoke up at that moment.
"That's my thinking as well."
Frieren gave a small nod of agreement.
With the strongest voices in the room aligned on this, the others fell in without further objection.
That left only one remaining question.
Who would they send?
The answer, it seemed, hardly needed to be said aloud.
Sense drew a deep breath. She knew she had to step forward now.
She took one step ahead of the group.
"Please... let me go. I'll stop Fíliya."
Seeing Sense volunteer, a look of quiet understanding spread across the faces of those around her.
After all — if the goal was persuasion, there was truly no one better suited than Sense.
But sending Sense came with one very obvious problem.
If persuasion failed... could Sense really bring herself to raise her hand against Fíliya?
Whatever the others were thinking, Genau let out a sigh and made up his mind. If no one else wanted to be the villain, then he would see it through to the end.
He turned to Sense and pressed her directly.
"How far are you prepared to go — and if you fail to stop her, can you actually do what needs to be done?"
"I'll go... back to when Fíliya was still a child. I'll try to guide her — to make her give up her curiosity about the Demon Race. If... if I can't manage that..." Sense's voice trembled faintly, but she held herself together and finished the thought. "I'll do it. I can do it. I am a First-Class Mage."
Seeing Sense like this, Serie felt a quiet pang of sorrow. She walked over to her and gently placed a hand on top of her head.
"If you find you can't, we'll send someone else. You don't have to force yourself."
Sense's head immediately began shaking like a rattle drum.
"No — please, let me be the one to go. This is my responsibility... and my best chance to make up for what that child has done."
Her voice had become unwavering. She would accept this mission, no matter what.
Because... if someone else were to travel back to the past — if someone else were to actually kill Fíliya — what then?
"I understand," Serie said softly. "Do you need time to prepare?"
"No."
Sense shook her head, then stepped away from Serie's side and walked toward the Emperor.
"I'm counting on you."
She bowed before him.
"No — it is humanity's future that is counting on you, Lady Sense."
The Emperor smiled gently as he looked at her.
Whether or not he had said it intentionally, those words pressed down on Sense with an invisible, unbearable weight.
Humanity's future...
She repeated the words silently to herself, and felt her heart grow impossibly heavy. All she could do now was pray — pray that she could succeed in turning Fíliya away from her fascination with the Demon Race.
Because if she couldn't...
The consequences that remained were something she refused to let herself imagine.
Seeing that Sense had steeled herself, the Emperor said nothing more. He activated his magic without delay.
The spell that sent people back through time had a surprisingly understated appearance.
Wrapped in a quiet shimmer of blue light, Sense's form began to dissolve — slowly, steadily — breaking apart into motes of luminescence until she vanished entirely from the room. Visually, it was almost unsettling, giving the impression that she had simply been disintegrated.
"...Hah... hah..."
The moment his magic was complete, the Emperor's condition shifted noticeably. In addition to his ragged, uncontrolled breathing, his body swayed as though it might give out at any moment.
"Your Majesty?!"
Fres, who had been standing silently until now, immediately rushed forward and caught him with swift, steady hands.
"Fres... you're still using that title? The one you should be loyal to is the Empire itself, you know."
The Emperor looked up at Fres's face and managed a wry smile.
"That may be so — but there is no new Emperor yet, and the Empire is still in a state of upheaval. So please, allow me to keep using it for now."
"...Fair enough. Do as you like, then... I didn't expect this magic to take such a violent toll on me. I may need to... sleep for a while."
His voice faded with every word, and before he even finished speaking, his eyelids had fallen completely shut.
"—!"
Fres startled, and instinctively reached out to check his breathing.
"Fres — have you forgotten? When a member of the Demon Race dies, their body turns directly to ash."
Serie watched Fres's movement with a mildly puzzled expression.
And so Fres's hand froze in midair.
...Right. Of course.
A rare, faint embarrassment crossed the face of that slightly aged woman.
"Even so, this doesn't look promising..."
Frieren frowned as she studied the Emperor's condition.
After all, no one knew how long he might remain unconscious. If casting the magic to send someone back in time consumed so much of the Emperor that he would be out for months — or even years...
Then this might be their only chance.
The thought that they could simply try again if Sense failed had felt like a reassurance — but now, that comfort evaporated, and a new wave of anxiety settled over the group.
"I hope Sense can pull this off."
In the end, Frieren's worry could only escape as a quiet sigh.
And then, immediately after — both her and Serie's gazes fell on Macht.
After all, the Emperor was at least under human control, and had originally been human himself.
But Macht — he was a true-blooded, native member of the Demon Race. Why was he standing on humanity's side so naturally?
Macht seemed to have already anticipated this scrutiny. He met the two Elves' gazes with calm composure.
"Macht — the Demon Race has migrated en masse back to the Demon King's Castle. Why didn't you go with them?"
Frieren questioned him directly. She had never had a good impression of Macht.
"Because Fíliya gave me no instructions. With no instructions, I accompanied Young Master Denken here to your side. If Lady Frieren does not trust my word, I will leave at once."
Macht met Frieren's eyes with equal coolness. These two had evidently rubbed each other the wrong way for a very long time.
At the family dinner where they had resolved the issue of the Golden Land, the only thing that had stopped them from coming to blows was Fíliya's intervention.
"Frieren — Macht truly was someone I invited. And he has always been a demon who does as he pleases — he never even listened to the previous Demon King's orders. Having him lend his strength to humanity's cause now is a good thing, isn't it?"
Denken, monocle glinting on his nose, stepped forward to speak on his master Macht's behalf.
"Hmph... I don't trust him, regardless. If he makes any suspicious move, I will act."
Frieren said it coldly, and without room for argument.
____
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