Catherine bit her lip.
Seventh-Circle Magic — [Impera].
Until now, the only one on the continent capable of wielding magic of this magnitude had been Clinton.
But in this very moment, Ludger had joined that rank.
The dark-attribute spell he cast had struck true even against Saintess Catherine.
She, who could shatter most Sixth-Circle spells with her bare hands, could hardly resist it. The gap in power was immense.
The darkness clung to her like thick, sticky mud, absorbing her strength.
Yet even within that suffocating mire, Catherine did not fall. She planted both feet firmly on the ground and stood tall.
Any ordinary master knight or Sixth-Circle mage struck by this spell would not have been able to rise again.
That was how strong Catherine was. More than that, she radiated an unshakable will that refused to yield.
“You think... I’ll stop here?”
Step by step, Catherine waded through the black sludge toward Ludger.
Ludger met her approach with a flat, indifferent gaze.
With every step she took, the darkness binding her weakened.
Her divine power, endlessly welling up within her, gradually restored her vigor and hastened her pace.
From within the tar-like darkness covering her body, golden flames began to flare.
Proof that her strength was returning.
“This isn’t the end, is it? You’re the Demon King, after all. Come on—show me more of what you’ve got.”
Ludger answered her provocation at once.
“As you wish.”
Catherine’s eyes widened; she hadn’t expected him to agree so easily.
What shocked her even more was that Ludger didn’t just say it—he immediately acted.
A vast magic formula spread wide once again behind him.
It was the same type and scale as the one he’d used moments earlier for his Seventh-Circle spell.
Brilliant mana embroidered the air, expanding outward and enveloping even the space around Catherine.
It was the second time she’d seen an entire area filled with a magic formula, yet the sight was still breathtakingly beautiful.
But the result it promised was not.
Catherine’s eyes saw into the near future.
And what she saw was herself—already ensnared by Ludger’s spell.
Floating helplessly in a pitch-black void where nothing could be seen.
‘I can’t avoid this.’
Even after seeing the future, she would still be hit. That meant it was an attack impossible to dodge or block.
The dense, surging mana all around her was more than enough proof.
Just casting a Seventh-Circle spell should have consumed a tremendous amount of mana and mental power—yet he was preparing another right after it.
Even in her astonishment, Ludger unleashed yet another spell.
Seventh-Circle Water-Attribute Magic — [Clear Greed].
Shaaah—
Somewhere, she heard the sound of crashing waves.
It was the sea. The moment she realized it, Catherine plunged into the ocean’s depths.
‘I have to escape—’
She struggled, but her body only sank deeper and deeper.
Down into the dark abyss where no sunlight reached.
The crushing cold and enormous pressure of the deep sea constricted her body.
The very scene she had glimpsed with her foresight was now reality.
Catherine quietly closed her eyes.
For a brief moment, she wondered—would it be easier if she just stayed like this and let herself drift away?
Then—splash.
Her body fell back onto solid ground.
‘Ah.’
Only then did Catherine realize it.
She had been defeated.
Above her, through the collapsed ceiling, she saw the open night sky.
And standing over her, looking down, was Ludger.
“What are you doing? Finish it already. You’ve won.”
“Yes. I have. That’s why I’m leaving now.”
“You’re just going to walk away from a Saintess? You’re the Demon King. Aren’t you worried that once I recover, I’ll come after you again?”
“I know you will. And when that happens, it won’t be so easy to decide the outcome like today.”
“This fight wasn’t easy either.”
“Let’s call it that.”
“Then why leave me alive?”
“Because...”
Ludger reached into his coat and pulled something out.
“...before you were Saintess Catherine, you were the friend who first reached out her hand to the boy named Heathcliff.”
What he held was a neatly folded sheet of paper.
He unfolded it and handed it to her.
“What is this?”
“Take it.”
With trembling hands, Catherine accepted the paper.
“Read it.”
Her eyes scanned the writing—and widened.
“This is... an address?”
Written in elegant script was the address of a wealthy merchant’s estate in a certain nation.
And at the very end of that address was a name.
“Unshaw...”
The instant she spoke the surname, a sharp pain struck her head.
“W-what...?”
Her voice shook—something it hadn’t done even in their fiercest battle.
She shouldn’t have recognized the name, yet hearing it filled her with a strange sense of longing and sorrow.
“Why... why do I feel this way...”
“The Unshaw family—one of the leading merchant houses of Queoden. They used their wealth for charity and good works, living righteous lives. Likely because the lord and his wife are kind-hearted people.”
“What are you getting at...?”
“Those two have been searching for their long-lost daughter. It’s been so long they can barely remember, yet they still look for her desperately. They don’t even know her name anymore—only that she had beautiful golden hair.”
Catherine fell silent.
Her eyes asked the question without words. Was it true?
But from how far Ludger had gone to tell her this, there was no way it wasn’t.
“Catherine... no—Catherine Unshaw. That’s your real name. That’s the family you were born into. Your parents. Your home. The things you must never forget, that you have to remember again.”
“Heathcliff, you...”
“I wanted to tell you this if I ever saw you again. You’re not an orphan. You have a family—a family who has been searching for you all this time, who loves you more than anyone.”
Drip.
Clear, transparent tears streamed down Catherine’s cheeks.
“My return to this hell wasn’t only to accomplish my purpose,” Ludger said softly. “It was also so I could tell you this.”
It had taken him a long time to find her parents.
They lived in a remote region, and the Church had brainwashed them when they took Catherine away, erasing nearly all traces of her.
But Ludger had found them—and obtained their address.
“That’s where you belong. Not as the Saintess of the Church, but as Catherine Unshaw, the daughter your family has been yearning to see again.”
Catherine couldn’t respond.
Tears streamed endlessly from her eyes, and her throat trembled with emotion that threatened to overflow.
At last, the memories returned—her name, her hometown, her parents.
How had she not known until now?
She should never have forgotten. She should have remembered all along.
“Rest now. Lie still for a while. When you wake up, everything will be over.”
Leaving those words behind, Ludger turned away.
There was no need to explain further to someone who had yet to process it all. What she needed now was solitude to reflect.
Ludger still had work to do.
He had to bring the Relic to the highest point of the fortress.
‘Seems I fell a bit farther down than intended.’
Their battle had shattered the floor and sent him plummeting to a lower level.
Calculating the spatial coordinates was difficult amid the interference of divine energy.
Carrying a Relic infused with divine power while attempting teleportation was like trying to tightrope-walk with an iron weight strapped to your back.
He had no choice but to move directly, so he cast a flight spell and rose through the gaping hole above.
Just as he was about to return to his original path—
A net of golden light scattered toward him.
“The Demon King! The Demon King is here!”
“Kill him at all costs! Stop his plan!”
Bretus’s holy knights and high priests.
Armed with artifacts and divine support, they launched a concentrated assault on Ludger.
“They just stood there doing nothing while I fought Catherine...”
Tearing through the golden net with ease, Ludger glared at the zealots before him.
“There’s no mercy for those who’ve chosen fanaticism willingly, not under mind control.”
His magic swept over the holy knights.
* * *
Alex tilted his head aside.
A thrust shot past where his forehead had been.
And not just one sword—several golden-aura blades followed in succession.
Dodging them all was impossible.
Alex’s sword traced a smooth circle through the air.
The perfect motion drew in the air around it, creating a vortex.
The golden swords caught in it spiraled upward—then exploded.
Fragments of divine power shredded the vortex and rained down on Alex like a storm.
He struck the floor, raising a massive barrier to shield himself.
The rain of holy energy couldn’t pierce the wreckage, but the brainwashed knights were another story.
Empowered far beyond their original strength, they smashed through the debris like paper and charged at him.
Alex swung his sword to subdue them, but each time, Enya—wearing a glowing white halo above her head—blocked his strikes.
He tried to incapacitate her, but it wasn’t easy.
The divine power surrounding her was unlike any ordinary blessing.
Someone immensely powerful was channeling their strength through her, controlling her body.
Alex hated it.
Not only that her body was being manipulated, but the cunning way his enemy fought.
He slashed—a simple feint, meant to test her reaction. She should have blocked or dodged.
But to his shock, Enya thrust her own neck toward his blade.
Her vacant, puppet-like eyes met his, and Alex’s body froze; he pulled his sword back reflexively.
‘Damn it!’
Too late, he realized his mistake.
He had fallen right into their trap.
The price for pulling back his blade was steep.
Slash—!
Enya’s sword, imbued with divine energy, carved deep into his shoulder.
Blood trickled down from the torn fabric of his uniform.
If not for his defensive artifact, his arm would have been severed.
‘Damn. They know I won’t strike her down and are using her as a shield.’
Whoever was controlling Enya was intelligent—ruthless and calculating.
Knowing they couldn’t beat him head-on, they’d taken her hostage to pressure him.
‘This isn’t good. If this keeps up, I’ll be worn down and killed.’
He tried to stop the bleeding, but the possessed knights gave him no chance.
With the cardinal’s divine power augmenting them, they fought far beyond normal human limits.
Their superhuman speed disrupted his rhythm, forcing him to swing defensively.
‘If I wipe them all out at once—’
Each time he tried to unleash a large technique, Enya moved closer—as if asking, “Are you sure you can do that, knowing she might die?”
The veins on Alex’s hand bulged around the grip of Copy Cat.
If he swung now, his gray aura would shred everything nearby.
He could do it—he had the power and the talent.
‘Too much time’s passed. I have to end this and move on. I can’t let ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) my hesitation ruin everything for everyone.’
He was fighting for Ludger—for the Demon King’s army, the enemy of the world.
In this war, he couldn’t be bound by an old attachment from the past.
He had to be cold.
Decisive.
That was the rational choice.
Aura flared up along his sword.
In that extreme tension, time seemed to slow.
And in Enya’s blank face, Alex saw the echo of someone from long ago.
—Alex! You skipped training again! What if you fail your exams?
From their days as cadets, she had always nagged him.
—I won, Alex! See? I told you you could do it! Of course, it’s thanks to my cheering, though!
She laughed at him.
—You fought again, didn’t you? Idiot! I told you to just ignore them!
She scolded him.
—Do I like someone? Sure. Kind, gentle, reliable. Huh? Why that face? I’m kidding! Don’t look so serious!
She teased him.
—...I’m disappointed in you.
And in the end, she had been the one to cry.
The face of the person he loved most.
“Yeah... figures.”
In that infinitesimal moment, a thousand memories flashed before him. Alex smiled—
—and withdrew his aura.
“I guess... this is who I am.”
Thud.
Enya’s sword drove straight into his abdomen.