The darkness receded. Beltia opened her eyes and blinked in confusion. Where...?

She was seated in the kitchen. She was tending a bubbling pot of thick soup over the hearth, dressed like an ordinary housewife.

"Ah..." She remembered now. This was her home, and now was dinnertime. Across from her, a small girl pulled out a chair at the table and scribbled with a pen.

Right. Lapicel was practicing her letters.

Beltia felt a warm pride swell in her chest. Her daughter’s handwriting had improved. The lines were still crooked, the characters a little messy, but they were clear enough to read now.

Unlike me, who never seems to get any better at cooking.

She ladled out a bit of soup and gave it a taste, then tilted her head. It was bland.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Looks like dinner's a bit of a disaster again," she said.

"Mom!" The girl looked up, scrunching her brows in a cute scowl. "I work so hard practicing every day! You need to put in some effort too and make our food tasty! Lunch was awful, and now dinner’s gonna be too?"

Well, would you listen to this kid?

Beltia burst into laughter. Truly, children were impossible to predict. "You little rascal, mouthing off to your mom like that!"

And so the day passed. It was busy, exhausting, annoying, and joyful. It was a full and happy day. As the sun set, bedtime came.

Lying in bed, her daughter asked, "Mom, mom, is there a monster under the bed?"

"No," she answered.

The girl wasn’t satisfied. "Mom, mom, is there a monster in the closet?"

"No." Sitting beside her, Beltia whispered gently, "There’s no such thing as monsters, sweetie. So close your eyes, alright?"

"Mmmm..."

But no child would listen the first time. Sure enough, with no intention of sleeping, the little girl wiggled her way into her mother’s arms.

The girl called out, "Mom..."

"Yes?" Beltia responded.

The girl asked, "You’ll protect Lapicel, right?"

Beltia nodded. "Of course."

The girl asked, "Always?"

"Always," came the answer.

The child looked up and smiled. "Then why didn’t you?"

Her smile suddenly became twisted. Beltia’s vision crumbled. The world of mother and daughter shattered into pieces. A voice rang out between the rivers of blood.

Why didn’t you protect me? Why didn’t you protect me? Why? Why? Why?

The world had changed, and all around her was blood. In a pool of dark red, a mangled piece of flesh lay strewn. Her beloved daughter’s body was broken.

"Ah..."

Severed arms, severed legs, and a shocking amount of bright crimson entrails spilled from a body so small it seemed impossible they could all fit.

"Ah... ahhh..."

The little girl wasn't breathing. She didn’t call for her mother, didn’t smile, and didn’t cry.

With a scream, Beltia clutched her face in both hands. Her nails tore down her cheeks and blood poured between her fingers.

*** 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

Serati forced herself upright with a groan, and froze at the sight before her. What the hell happened?

Everyone was still recovering, dazed and barely conscious. The only ones who seemed relatively unharmed were Milia and Diogres Kolon, shielded by Milia’s divine shield. Beyond them stood the ash-haired girl, her sword dangling limply at her side as she stared blankly ahead.

"Lapicel?" Serati called out.

But there was no response. Her eyes were unfocused, as if she were in some sort of trance. And opposite her, a colossal surge of golden aura exploded through the air in a violent rampage. Beltia was floating above ground, emitting a storm of uncontrolled aura from every inch of her body.

Serati covered her mouth in horror. What the hell is that?

Instinct told her immediately. This was like when a delirious person flailed their arms and legs in chaos—except in the case of an aura user, it was the aura, not the limbs, that thrashed wildly.

A storm raged within the curtain of darkness. Everything the golden aura touched was obliterated, torn apart and scattered in all directions. It was pure, unapproachable destruction. Beltia was currently destruction incarnate.

Serati let out a dry laugh. So when you’re a martial king, even losing your mind becomes a full-scale disaster?

But no matter how powerful she was, even a martial king couldn't sustain this for more than a few minutes. At worst, she'd collapse from exhaustion, or die outright. Someone of her level wouldn’t break such a fundamental rule lightly. Which meant this had to be the result of someone else's interference.

Serati turned toward the most suspicious person.

The person in question was watching Beltia’s rampage with a wide, pleased grin. "Cliché as it is, nothing works better than this."

He muttered something incomprehensible. Serati immediately sent him a telepathic message.

—What did you do?

Karnak shrugged.

—What do you mean, what? Everything's going perfectly.

He looked far too proud of himself, and that made Serati nervous. In her experience, there was only one situation where that man acted this smug: When the outcome was ideal, but the process was absolutely horrifying. She asked in horror.

—What the hell did you do to her?

***

Varos had wondered how Beltia ended up joining the Cult of the Black God. He only understood when he heard her cries. But Karnak didn’t need to wonder. He had known the moment he laid eyes on her.

She got caught up in a cult trying to bring her dead daughter back to life.

After all, it was a plan he had once considered himself.

—Since Lapicel’s with us now, Beltia’s probably still a wreck over her dead daughter, right? If we say we can reunite her with the kid, we might be able to win over a martial king to our side.

But Serati had opposed the idea, so he’d dropped it.

—Wait, I was the one who opposed it? When did that happen?

—Well, I never mentioned Beltia by name back then.

More specifically, what he’d asked was this.

—If we tell them we can reunite them with a lost loved one, can we recruit some of this era’s top warriors to our side?

Only then did Serati recall the conversation. At the time, she had replied.

—Is the person they’re reuniting with actually alive?

Karnak had responded with this.

—Of course not. I’d bring them back as an undead.

Necromancy wasn’t resurrection. It only summoned the dead back into the physical world. In other words, it didn’t return them to life. Serati had commented sarcastically.

—Oh, perfect. I’m sure they’d be thrilled when the person they loved comes back as a zombie.

—You don’t think they’d like it?

—They’d love it so much, they’d probably stab you.

So he had scrapped the idea. But apparently, the Cult of the Black God had no such qualms about lying to Beltia.

—Or maybe Tesranach actually did have another way.

Either way, once Karnak grasped the situation, the solution had become clear to him.

—Just shake her up a bit, then use the illusion of her dead daughter to drive her mad. That’d be more than enough.

But this spell came with one critical condition. Beltia was a martial king, a peak-level aura user. A simple necromantic spell would bounce right off her radiant golden aura. So the trick was to do it subtly. Gradually, little by little, he would slowly intoxicate her at the level of particles.

But casting a fog into open air was useless. It would scatter too easily. It needed to be in a sealed environment to work properly. And Karnak had fully expected the cult to provide that sealed space for him. Magic demanded focus. Necromancy required diffusion.

That was precisely why sealing off an area with a barrier and gradually finishing things from within was the most efficient way to wield necromancy.

Karnak shrugged.

—Told you. Necromancers are predictable.

Beltia hadn’t shown any weakness for a while, and that had made him anxious.

Once Serati pieced it all together, her mouth fell open. So...

Beltia was reliving the moment her daughter died? Over and over again, trapped in that agony and grief?

Dear god...

Even hell might’ve been merciful by comparison. Revulsion welled up inside her as she stared at Karnak with trembling eyes. But he was smiling. He explained himself.

—It’s not like her daughter’s soul is actually suffering. It’s all in Beltia’s head. I didn’t even sacrifice anyone to make this happen.

He looked genuinely proud of himself, like this was the most humane form of necromancy imaginable.

—See? No harm done to anyone but the enemy.

So Serati was torn. What curse could she possibly come up with that was bad enough to suit this bastard? Did such an insult even exist in this world?

Karnak noticed her expression and frowned.

—What? Did I do something wrong?

She was baffled.

—You're seriously asking that now?

He protested, likewise baffled.

—What did I do? We’re all trying to kill each other, aren’t we? So stabbing someone through the gut is okay, but tearing at someone’s heart is off-limits? Doesn’t that seem a bit weird?

She retorted.

—Well, that’s...

He sulked, lips jutting out in genuine frustration.

—Go ahead. Ask people whether they'd rather feel pain in their body or in their heart. Bet most would pick the latter!

He had expected praise, not outrage. To be fair, it was too late to undo the spell now. If Beltia broke free, they’d have no way to stop her.

Serati sighed and changed the subject.

—So what now? We just wait?

Karnak answered her.

—Exactly. Originally, I planned to subdue her right away, but that won’t work.

Frustratingly, even after she’d lost her mind, Beltia remained far too powerful. She was still a martial king, after all. Her aura, even in a rampage, was overwhelmingly strong. It was too dangerous to touch.

Karnak continued.

—If we leave her alone, she’ll either collapse from exhaustion or die from it.

If she died, they’d give her a nice burial. If she fainted, they’d tie her up tight and try to persuade her to join them.

Serati shot him a knowing look.

—Per-suade, right?

Karnak shook his head.

—You think magic needles work on someone like her? I meant persuade. With words.

Serati sighed again and dragged the unconscious Lapicel to safety.

—Forgive me if I don’t quite believe that...

Just as Karnak said, she waited, hoping Beltia would burn out soon. But things didn’t go as planned. Amid the torrent of wild aura, Beltia suddenly shot upward into the air. With a crazed scream, she hurled herself into the curtain of darkness.

It was as if she meant to throw herself into death. But when you smash a rock into an egg, it’s the egg that breaks, not the rock.

The dark curtain shattered into a thousand shards, and the entire Dragon Isle shook as if an earthquake had struck.

"W-whoa!"

"Damn it!"

Karnak and Serati barely kept their footing as they looked skyward. Beltia, still screaming, burst out of the barrier and vanished into the skies beyond the island. Beltia’s escape was less like running and more like flying.

A single streak of golden light split the sea, carving a straight line to the horizon. Her figure grew ever smaller through the path of foaming white waves as she steadily vanished into the distance. She was sprinting across the surface of the ocean as if it were solid ground.

Serati, stunned by the absurd sight, muttered blankly, "I guess once you’re a martial king, you can just run across the sea too?"

"Even if you can, most wouldn’t actually do it..." Karnak replied.

Eventually, once her strength ran dry, she’d just plop into the endless ocean. No matter how powerful she was, she wouldn't survive being stranded alone at sea.

"Still, it doesn’t feel like she’s going to die," Serati murmured.

"Yeah, I think so too," Karnak nodded.

At the very least, it was certain that she wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon.

"So basically, all we have to do now is take care of the rest of them." Karnak turned his gaze toward the shattered barrier.

Beyond it, the necromancers of the cult were in disarray, murmuring in panic.

"La-Lady Beltia?"

"What just happened...?"

Karnak raised his wand, his gaze turning icy. "Serati lectured me, you know."

He’d tried being nice for once, using clean, non-lethal psychic interference. But it had ended with him being treated like the scum of the earth.

So this time, he’d try a different approach to being humane. "You lot. I’ll just rip your bodies to shreds."