“The outcome has been decided. The victory belongs to the Goddess Saliashe, and the leader of the hunt, the kobold Sheto.”
Yesta declared with a smile. Though, whenever Salia won, there was always silence.
She herself barely showed any signs of joy. Instead, it was the Dragon God who let out a satisfied snort.
“You are still as sadistic as ever, Goddess of Time.”
“What do you mean?”
“You delayed the effect of the seal, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you don’t know.”
She smiled faintly and shook her head.
“For gods such as ourselves, time is a trivial matter. Surely you know that such questions are unnecessary.”
“Very well. That arrogant man can spend some time contemplating his own foolishness.”
“Now then, I shall take my leave.”
With a single wave of her staff, Yesta departed from the place and returned to her own seat.
In the sanctuary where the black statues were enshrined, a new sculpture was set in place.
“Director, the exhibition had concluded without incident.”
“Well done.”
She said, and then stopped before the newly erected statue.
The statue of Canila, posed in prayer, appeared like a dignified flower blooming among those who cried in anguish.
On the plaque beneath it, the following inscription was written.
‘A flower blooming in honor’s shadow… Though her fruit was never borne, her resolve to adorn a friend’s path shall remain in my memory for a long time.’
Yesta then walked up to the newly completed statue, and smiled.
“Please rest comfortably here.”
The Seer’s face was twisted in despair. His inscription read: ‘A fool who misjudged when to withdraw.’
Yesta looked at it and chuckled to herself.
—
Sheto exhaled slowly, and then checked his own body.
All of his wounds were closed, and his strength had already returned. But he felt tired, as if something inside of him had vanished. Even though the Hero had gone, the army left behind was still there.
However, not a single one of them moved.
Not the strategist and generals, nor the members of the special unit…
“Well, we cannot stay here forever. Let us go, Sheto.”
“Uh…ah…yes.”
Poro glared angrily at Berganda. But he too stayed back.
His fingers fumbled around the tag hanging from his chest.
“The Hero, gone. That, no power now.”
“Shut up…”
“Or do…you want to test, now?”
Sheto asked.
Poro and the others grew tense.
“Sheto!”
The young dragon came riding on the wolf. On his face was both relief and the joy of victory.
“You did it! Now the Seer’s army is finished.”
“Aye. Everything done. Now…”
At Fi’s words, the truth of what comes next rose to the surface. The minotaur next to him did not even try to hide his sadness.
“I see. So the battle is ended.”
“…Aye. Ended.”
“H-hey! Wait a minute! You aren’t going to do it right now, are you!?”
the cooperation was over. All that was left was for him to duel against the Demon General.
“I do not mind when it happens. While I am a little burned, I will fight if you wish.”
“No.”
The kobold smiled sadly, as if to say there was still time.
“Easy, to defeat someone, wounded. No point in duel.”
“Do not get carried away. We are not on equal footing, just because you have a divine vessel now!”
In spite of his words, he was also laughing sadly.
“Tha…that’s right. You’ve been fighting nonstop since yesterday! You should rest a little…and eat…and then…”
Suddenly, the young dragon’s face was contorted.
“Gah!? Ah…ahh…gaaaah!!”
“Fi!?”
“What is it, runt!”
His eyes turned up into his head, and he vomited while falling to the ground. Guto looked at him worriedly, but then he raised his face to the sky.
“It…it can’t be!”
Birds were dispersing from the forests all around them.
Sheto’s ears and skin were being assaulted by a strange sound.
A foul-smelling wind was sweeping across the lands, blowing over all who stood in its path, both human and monster alike.
And then from beyond the edge of the sky, behind the mountains, it appeared.
A towering castle built upon a mass of rock. The Demon King’s stronghold.
‘My Demon General, and you insignificant humans… And my beloved, little monster.’
The words that rained down were unmistakably different from that of a god’s… It was young and filled with malice.
‘Fight.’
The master commanded all who raised their heads.
‘Show me a magnificent bloom. The flower of war, painted in blood and iron.’