I Saw the Road of Hope

It was almost a line of white lightning.

Below the summit of the sacred mountain, on bad footing.

Through that narrow space, the white-lightning incarnate was running, threading the gaps between people.

"!! —"

A Mūzeg formula-user's scream went up.

Because he was being struck by Merea, the white-lightning incarnate.

A super-speed move into a single palm-strike.

Strike once, then vanish.

A bad-flavoured register, like a wraith or a ghost.

A plain palm-strike with the force to send a man flying was, on its own, grim — but the attacker's figure was, frankly, hard to track.

He was too fast.

"Gh — !"

A muffled scream went up again.

They could not catch Merea's figure; they were taking super-speed palm-strikes defenceless.

The Demon Lords above were watching, stunned.

A white light running, a man flying.

Just that, repeating.

---

"— Not a formula-type Demon Lord, then."

The 〈Fist Emperor〉-titled Demon Lord who had been talking with Elma before the white-light cannonade came in, watched, agape.

"Mind, that white lightning's almost certainly a formula — but the close-quarters footwork is also off the chart…"

His eyes — by virtue of the close-combat-derived 〈Fist Emperor〉 title — just caught Merea's motion.

His good eyes, even — at close range he probably could not.

Far off, looking down from above, was the only reason he could just see it.

The Mūzeg formula-users, also just tracking, had drawn the swords at their hips and were swinging them.

Aim-by-guess; but in that narrow footing, several swords swung carelessly carry their own threat.

But still — Merea was not grazed.

The figure threading between blade and blade at exquisite angles, the 〈Fist Emperor〉 followed with a seeing-the-impossible eye.

"— Hah."

From his mouth, a laugh leaked.

"Honestly. If I count as Demon Lord, what does that count as. — Slipped. I, just now, took hope on board."

"I don't, not, know the feeling. I, also — felt a similar register at the bottom of my stomach."

There the crimson-haired Demon Lord — 〈Flame Emperor〉 Lilium — appeared and threw a line at 〈Fist Emperor〉.

Lilium had a flame-bird perched on her right shoulder; visibly in combat-stance by now.

"…I had thought — climbing the sacred mountain, I'd find a road other than fight or flight — an easy road. What I actually found was the painful road of hope."

〈Fist Emperor〉, eyes fragile, following Merea's gallant figure, said it.

"That one's strength is, for us, hope. But there's also fear in it. The road of hope that one shows reads as severely steep."

"…Right. — Then, give up?"

"…No — that option is no longer there. Look — that one's trying to hold the whole line alone. — Trying to give us time to settle, possibly."

"〈Sword Emperor〉, also, in a roundabout way, said use my body as bait — yes."

"Right. — So — no on the giving-up option, after all. I'm the cowardly Demon Lord who tail-tucked-and-ran. Even so, I do not want to be the cowardly man who betrays the trust of those staking their lives for me. — Even at the cost of dying. — Just registered."

"— I see."

To 〈Fist Emperor〉's somehow-male-shaped logic, Lilium answered curtly — but she, also, had a strong light of will swaying in her eye.

The two of them turned their gaze, simultaneously, downward.

The Mūzeg formula-users, to handle Merea's off-the-chart speed, were forming a circular dense formation.

To avoid being picked off one by one at supernatural speed, almost certainly.

It removes the rear blind spot, and at the moment of Merea's strike, the formula-users inside the dense formation can counter-attack.

Mūzeg, in their way, at the close, practised.

"— That grave-building — a good change-of-pace, that."

"Yes. Thanks to it, the head went clean. When you're sorting out clutter, simple work is useful."

So — around when Mūzeg completed their counter-formation, 〈Fist Emperor〉 and 〈Flame Emperor〉 Lilium also, in their hearts, came down on a single decision.

"Right then — we have to thank him."

"I helped him build them, so I'm the thanked side too, mind."

"Hehe — yes."

"Mind — first, we have to mutually survive. Without living, neither thanking nor being thanked. — I'll push. Having combat-strength and leaving everything to others is cowardly too. So — the painful road of hope I see on his back — let me try to walk it."

After that exchange, the two moved.

〈Fist Emperor〉 slapped his own cheeks for spirit, and slid down the sacred mountain.

Where he was headed — the Mūzeg corps' dense formation below.

Lilium issued an order to the flame-bird on her shoulder, and attacked a formula-user trying to fire at Merea.

The two had decided to fight.

It is not as if every feeling has been settled — but in this place, at this moment, let's follow the man called Merea and do all we can.

And following the two of them —

"I — go too."

"Damn, what's this — Demon Lords showing every sign of intent to live."

"With that shown to us — can't be helped. The Merea who showed us the road of hope is to blame."

"Awful framing."

"Truth, though."

After the two of them descended, more Demon Lords, on wry smiles, self-mockery, or quiet smiles, began running down the sacred mountain.

Merea's vanguard, Elma's charge, 〈Fist Emperor〉, Lilium, the rest of the Demon Lords —

In that, a current of resistance had begun.

---

"Right — we, what shall we do."

"I dislike going to the front, you know. — Could this be solved with money, perhaps?"

"Do they look, to you, like the kind who would spare a life for money? Those Mūzegan soldiers."

"— Mn."

〈Alchemy King〉 Shaw, alongside the 〈Maid〉 Marisa, was looking down at the scene.

The Mūzeg Kingdom's formula-users, and the other Demon Lords, had begun to engage.

"Almost certainly, after the money is paid, you would be killed."

"If you know it, don't ask."

"Aloof, you."

He had, of course, known.

Take what is needed, then kill the Demon Lord. Mūzeg Kingdom is a country that has done that.

He does not, by any means, like it, but, given the warring-eddy of the times, to prevent counter-revenge, perhaps it is, in some sense, even correct.

In any case, knowing it could not be solved with money, he had thrown the line as conversation-oil. — Did not work whatsoever.

"Here, rather than paying with money, riding the others' strength would be the better play, no?"

"You — strong-spirited for a maid, somehow."

To 〈Alchemy King〉 Shaw's pulled-back smile, Marisa, flat, returned the line.

"The maid I aim to be is the perfect maid. Even on a battlefield, that she can defend her master is a baseline must — strong-spirited, I must be."

"You — who have you set as your master?"

"That Merea-sama."

"When did that settle…!"

"Because he put his body out ahead of anyone else. Such a dangerous master, defended, builds a perfect maid's capacity. A master who can do everything is not useful."

"Strange logic… — but, but — for that one, is an escort even needed? Whether he can do everything is unclear, but at minimum, just now, he reads as not in danger?"

Where Shaw pointed, a man wreathed in white lightning was dancing across the battlefield at high speed.

Even to a layman's eye, that one alone is on a different battle-strength altogether.

Marisa's gaze, also, accurately tracked the man.

"— Yes. Strength is a good thing. Without being stronger than me, he cannot serve as my master."

"You — what you've been saying for some time has gone fairly incoherent, no…"

"Has it? — That is — at combat, stronger than me, and somewhere a touch dangerous; outside combat, fairly helpless. — That is optimal."

"A maid of many-conditions-on-the-master, there exists, then!!"

"I, also, am, technically, a 〈Demon Lord.〉 Various things must be considered. I was born under truly inconvenient blood."

"Hah…"

Shaw breathed a heavy sigh and broke off the talk.

Then turned his gaze downward again.

Watching the field, Shaw's face had shifted, slightly more serious than before.

By the look, he was, in cool register, analysing the situation.

Marisa, taking Shaw's sigh in flatly, moved her gaze in a different direction.

Right beside her.

There, hands clasped as if in prayer, was 〈Heavenly Demon〉 Aiz, murmuring Everyone — safe — no — injuries —.

That small saint-shaped figure, even Marisa — sparing of facial change — had her eyes widen at the fragility and transparency of it.

Time-stopped, briefly, Marisa, in the next beat, opened her mouth.

"— Additionally, I have decided to select another master to balance the maid-skill training."

"Eh?"

Marisa, eyes intent on Aiz, threaded the line.