It hurts so much.
The moment she was engulfed by flames, Rita had already used her bewitching aura as much as she could for defense, shielding herself from that deadly heat, but as expected, it still hurt so much.
Honestly, up until now, what have I even been doing?
Like a headless fly, I kept running around. Sometimes trying to protect my identity, sometimes wanting to make a little money off Cecilia, sometimes thinking that maybe becoming a Holy Knight wouldn’t be so bad, and other times feeling I should use my power to protect more people I could save.
In the end, I still don’t know what I should be doing.
If my past self had been determined to pursue a certain goal, maybe things wouldn’t have ended up like this.
As I thought, I couldn’t figure anything out; always jumping from one idea to the next, I never managed to accomplish anything.
So, is this how I ended up where I am today?
“Now then, it’s your turn, Princess.”
Dorothy’s voice sounded both distant and close.
Is she going to make a move on Lady Cecilia now?
Forget it, this probably has nothing to do with me anymore.
But then, why does my body move on its own again?
Rita’s body flashed above Dorothy’s head, the Black Sword in her hand, just like the time she pierced the earth beneath her feet, struck down toward Dorothy with unstoppable force.
Sorceress.
The magic shield’s radiance flared up again, ripples spreading between the Black Sword and Dorothy’s magic shield, wild magical patterns stirring the shield into chaos.
But it was still blocked.
“Rita!” Cecilia shouted loudly.
Rita had no energy left to speak; all she could do was gamble everything she had on her sword, trying to pierce through this woman who had created mountains of corpses and rivers of blood.
Dorothy didn’t say a word, just frowned, looking at Rita askance with a disgusted expression, raising her hand to maintain the magic shield.
The same process as before, but this time, it led to a completely different ending.
A faint but clear cracking sound rang out—the magic shield locked in a struggle with the Black Sword fractured at one corner.
Dorothy’s eye twitched ever so slightly.
Immediately after, the cracks spread like a spider web, the sound sharp as if glass had shattered upon the ground, and the black sword in Rita’s hand pierced through Dorothy’s magic shield, driving down toward Dorothy with unstoppable momentum.
The black sword went straight through Dorothy’s palm.
“What a pity.”
Dorothy let out a sigh.
“You should have aimed for my head.”
A dark green vortex expanded out from Dorothy, instantly transforming into a raging storm that swept Rita up within.
The vortex ruthlessly shredded Rita’s body, tossing her around like a kite caught in a violent gale, torn to pieces.
The vortex faded, and Rita’s body fell powerlessly.
“Really, this is why I hate stubborn people.”
Dorothy sighed heavily, pulled the sword out from her palm, and tossed it casually to the ground, then turned her head toward Cecilia.
“All right, let’s get back to the main topic.”
“Gulp.” Cecilia swallowed hard.
The scene before her could only be described as tragic.
Sending Rita to face a mage like that had really been too much.
But—there were still things she could do.
Cecilia took a deep breath and asked in a low voice, “Why?”
“What are you asking?” Dorothy fluttered her lashes, returning a look of utter contempt.
Cecilia asked again, her question clearer this time: “Why are you doing all of this?”
“What is it you mean by all of this?” Dorothy’s mocking expression made it impossible for Cecilia to tell if she truly didn’t understand, or if she was just pretending to be ignorant.
“All of it.”
Cecilia stepped forward twice, even though her legs barely obeyed her, even though her heart thundered in her chest, she still moved toward Dorothy.
“Colluding with the demons, inciting rebellion, plotting to murder a princess, conducting rituals… everything you’ve done here in Solus City.”
“The Fourth Princess, you’re an idiot. This world is made up of idiots. I’ve long since gotten used to it. That’s why I have no choice but to live and play along with you fools. But you should know, explaining my actions to every idiot is a troublesome process.”
Cecilia was silent; whatever Dorothy wanted to say, she would say it all eventually.
From the tone of her voice now, she had clearly been moved.
Cecilia didn’t understand magic, but she understood Dorothy. Not much, but enough.
Dorothy had her arrogance, and also her need for expression.
The desire for others to understand her—that came from the loneliness born together with her arrogance.
“What you described are just the steps, insignificant steps of an Experiment. What I want to unravel is a far greater truth.”
Dorothy, using her bloodstained hand, tidied her hair, her contemptuous gaze replaced by incomparable seriousness.
Cecilia shook her head. “I don’t understand your riddles. I just want to know—with all this chaos, even using my assassination as a cover—what is your real purpose?”
“Fine, fine, it’s not like we’re short on time. We can wait for the situation to ferment slowly. Before that, let’s add some more substrate to this Experiment.”
Dorothy snapped her fingers, but nothing seemed to happen.
Yet, in the scenes reflected by the crystal in the room, everything had already changed.
Thump.
A giant, pitch-black beetle several meters tall suddenly shot out from the huge gate, its sharp claws piercing straight through the reinforced shield of a heavy-armored soldier attacking the protective barrier around the stone gate, pinning both the shield and the man together.
The surrounding soldiers had no time to react before another gigantic beetle burst out and attacked.
A creepy rustling sound rose from inside the gate. The beetles surged out like a tide, instantly covering the blood-soaked ground with a layer of black.
“It’s the Night Command Beetles! They’re here!” a captain shouted at once.
“Tch.” Maggie clicked her tongue. “Heavy Armor Squad, hold the line! Mages over there! Lend us your strength!”
The sudden appearance of the Night Command Beetles wasn’t all that surprising—in fact, their absence until now had been more worrying. Now that the attack had begun, the thorn in Maggie’s heart finally seemed removed.
The heavy armor squad immediately formed a tight circle as ordered, using their long spears to fend off the endless insect tide. Overhead, the mages gathered flames, unleashing furious firestorms near the great gate.
Their coordination was swift. The acrid stench of burning filled the air, and masses of beetles shrieked in agony, quickly melting into sticky, charred sludge.
Right—apart from a few special types, insectoids were not resistant to fire. Her earlier arrangements had been the right call.
“Argh!”
A mage suddenly let out a cry of pain, rolling on the ground as if struck by something. The flames lessened for a moment.
“What?” Maggie heard the scream, drew her sword, and moved to deal with any enemies that had snuck up on the mages—yet there was nothing near their defensive formation.
But then another mage collapsed before her, clutching his head and rolling on the ground in agony.
Like dominoes, more and more fell, bodies twisting in misery, their screams heartrending.
As the firepower weakened, the insect tide surged with renewed ferocity. Countless beetles trampled over the corpses of their kin, launching a fresh assault on the soldiers. Even the mightiest heavy-armored warriors struggled to withstand attacks multiplied several times over.
By now, Maggie’s eyes were almost bloodshot.
What was happening?
Why were these people suddenly collapsing?
“…Mental… aaaaah!” A mage, enduring the pain, managed to shout out the right—yet unbelievable—answer.
Mental attack? From that far away?
Maggie had seen a few Night Commanders rush out of the teleport gate, so she had arranged her toughest defenses at the frontline, making sure they couldn’t disturb the mages’ temporary formation.
Unless it was… that thing…
Still swinging her sword, Maggie was lost in thought when suddenly she found herself cast in shadow.
Something enormous had blocked out the sunlight overhead.
Maggie looked up and met the horrifying gaze of a giant insect head, so large even a portion of its body emerging from the great gate was enough to cover the battlefield in darkness.
“You want to create more death, to exchange it for more power. To you, this is just… substrate?”
Cecilia’s lips felt dry. The scene reflected in the crystal, deliberately shown to her by Dorothy, could only be described as hell on earth.
Dorothy, who was not even a demon, had engineered all of this hell with her own hands, coldly observing it all.
There was no joy or madness on her face—she looked as if all this was only natural.
Her answer, too, was airy, as if all living things were mere numbers: “Yes. Fire needs to burn, and it needs enough fuel. Well, I suppose it’s better not to use metaphors for inventory. I simply need enough lives to support my Experiment.”
“For this, you’re even willing to work with the demons?”
Cecilia, despite having seen the cruelty of the royal capital, still felt a visceral disgust at such inhuman actions.
Dorothy sneered, as if she’d just heard a hilarious joke:
“Work together? They’re just a part of the Experiment. All I need to do is tell those despised by humans and higher demons alike: this is your new home. They’ll gladly give everything to invade, conquer, and fuel my Experiment.”
Cecilia argued back, “But you’re using demonic techniques—unforgivable magic!”
“Magic is magic. The so-called filthy demonic magic, I pried from their mouths, from their brains. Since it can be used, since it’s stronger than ours, why shouldn’t I use it?” Dorothy shrugged indifferently.
“Oh, right, and I must correct you: your assassination was never a cover. You were always an indispensable part of this Experiment. I just never expected you’d deliver yourself right to my door.”