Quaiesse, Zesshi, and Clementine all turned their gazes toward Calca, still cradled protectively in Sir Helant's arms. A heavy silence fell over the group.
Just as Calca had insisted, the people of the Holy Kingdom could only truly be saved by her own hand.
Quaiesse mentally reviewed the "homework" he'd prepared before arriving here.
The five border cities constituted the entire southern frontier of the Roble Holy Kingdom—a vast stretch of territory. Even traveling at griffin speed, reaching every single city before sunset was practically impossible. Spreading their strength too thin would be foolish.
Better to let the Holy Queen handle the evacuations and rescues while the rest of them focused on tracking down the demon's lair and crushing him once and for all.
I can't rescue five cities in a row without exhausting myself completely, Zesshi thought, roughly assessing her own limits.
The mana drain from constant high-speed travel would be bad enough; then she'd have to spend even more time and power clearing out the swarms of demi-humans who'd already overrun the towns. Her pretty features darkened with frustration, and she shot a venomous glare at Basterlo.
This damned demon is obviously trying to wear Sir Helant down—wait until he's spent and vulnerable, then strike from the shadows. Despicable coward.
By stepping up to handle the rescue herself, Calca had freed Helant—and by extension Zesshi—to go all-out against the scoundrel without holding back.
The Platinum Dragon Lord, observing the group from afar, muttered to himself inwardly. "No… If the demon's true goal is to exhaust Helant and then kill him, this makes no sense at all."
As someone familiar with both Players and the powerful beings of YGGDRASIL, he knew full well about the trait [Resurrection]. Unless the demon had some hidden trump card…
Tsaindorcus Vaision pondered for a moment, then settled on two plausible explanations. First possibility: the demon wielded a spell akin to his own Wild Magic-derived abilities—or perhaps something like the Soulbreaker Breath of the Elder Coffin Dragon Lord—that could permanently kill Pluh-yers or high-level NPCs and block revival entirely.
Second possibility: all of this was misdirection. The demon was simply buying time, stalling until some greater scheme came to fruition.
"I must regretfully remind everyone," Basterlo said, his voice unnaturally gentle and smooth, "that only Helant may decide whether to participate in this little game." When his eyes met Helant's, they shimmered with a nauseating blend of "respect" and "fear"—emotions that, coming from a demon, rang utterly false and reeked of cunning deceit.
He was targeting Helant, plain and simple.
Calca's lovely face drained of color. Her almond-shaped eyes shimmered with helpless anguish.
Only Helant can go… Then what becomes of my people?
She wanted neither her subjects to suffer nor Helant to walk into obvious danger.
Helant gently patted her back, then tilted his head skyward slightly, his eyes urging: Hurry up and say it!
Basterlo's polite mask stiffened for a fraction of a second. Then he spread his arms wide and laughed—a sound both theatrical and chilling. "Have you forgotten? I hold the initiative here!"
Instantly, the five floating screens before him flared crimson, seizing every eye in the vicinity.
On them, tragedy unfolded in perfect synchronization across the five border cities.
Glowing runes rose from a vast crimson array etched into the ground, swirling upward like vengeful spirits before enveloping thousands of screaming civilians and soldiers alike.
Some sensed the impending doom and tried to flee—but it was far too late.
The runes burrowed into flesh like parasitic worms. Bodies withered in seconds, skin shriveling, eyes sinking into hollow sockets as blood-red mist erupted outward in choking clouds. One after another, they collapsed, lifeless.
"No… that's my son!"
"My husband… my husband is gone!"
Faint, broken sobs drifted up from the cities below. The surviving defenders once again turned desperate eyes toward Helant.
Now, only he could save their countrymen.
Watching her people die in real time on the screens, Calca's eyes filled with tears. She let out a choked sob. "My people…"
She had never considered herself particularly strong. If she had, she wouldn't constantly lean on the protection of the Holy Domain God Lord—or on Helant.
She clasped Helant's hand tightly and looked up at him.
To her, Helant might be a little lecherous at times, but he was genuinely kind. The earlier reports—of how he'd risked everything to summon the Holy Domain God Lord and save a hundred thousand lives in E-Rantel—and now his willingness to come to the Holy Kingdom's aid—proved it beyond doubt.
When Quaiesse saw the determined set of her jaw and realized she was about to speak, his heart clenched as though gripped by an iron fist. With the Holy Queen's deep bond to Helant and his inherently righteous nature, he'll definitely choose to save them!
Helant softened his brow, making his handsome features appear even gentler, and met Calca's beautiful, tear-filled eyes.
Come on… say it.
I know how much you love your people—like they were your own children. Once you ask me, everything will fall perfectly into place!
"Haa…" Calca drew a long, shuddering breath. Resolve flashed through her gaze like lightning. "This is a trap aimed squarely at you—so I absolutely forbid you to go!"
"Huh?"
Genuine bewilderment flickered across Helant's face. This was not what he'd expected.
"He absolutely won't… huh?" Quaiesse swallowed the supportive words he'd prepared, exchanging stunned glances with Zesshi and Clementine.
He saw the same astonishment mirrored in their eyes.
Calca looked up at the dying innocents on the screens, her heart twisting in agony, yet her voice rang firm and clear. "You aren't truly of the Holy Kingdom. You owe us nothing, so…"
She met the betrayed, disappointed stares of the defenders below, channeled mana into her throat to amplify her words across the battlefield, and declared:
"By my authority as Holy Queen, I hereby abandon the five border cities—and I accept full responsibility and blame for this decision!"
She understood the initiative lay with the demon, and that Helant's heroic character would compel him to intervene, playing straight into Basterlo's hands.
So she would sever that path herself. She would forsake the five cities if it meant keeping Helant safe.
Yes, she loved her people dearly—but she loved Helant too.
Suddenly, she threw her arms around him in a fierce hug, wrapping herself around him like an octopus to immobilize him completely. Then she shouted upward:
"Demon! Hear me clearly—Helant will not go! I give up the five border cities!"
Taking the infamy upon herself to stop him… Quaiesse watched Calca cling desperately to Helant, her slender frame surprisingly strong in her determination, and felt a surge of genuine admiration.
And she's surprisingly strong for someone so delicate-looking.
Helant stared down at Calca, who had buried her face against his chest, her body trembling. For a moment, he was genuinely moved.
"Uu…"
Calca's muffled sobs soaked into his clothing; he could feel the warm dampness spreading. She was crying openly now.
Looks like I underestimated my charm...
Unable to move his arms fully, he settled for gently patting her slender waist in reassurance.
Honestly, he hadn't expected this girl to shoulder such disgrace just to protect him.
Since Calca is willing to go this far… then I, Helant, must go even further! Right!?
He lifted his gaze toward Basterlo, eyes hardening with resolve.
The people of those five border cities—I will save them!
____
15 Advance chapters:
Patreon.com/CorruptElf