From the very beginning, Rita felt as though every decision she made was careless and irresponsible.
She’d bitten into sleeping Cecilia just because she saw her in a dream; she’d wanted to turn and run just because she saw Cecilia standing high atop the platform; and, in the middle of the night, she’d flown right out of the Lord’s Manor just to avoid trouble.
Yet none of those choices brought her the results she wanted, and each one just landed her in even deeper trouble.
Later, too—getting tricked by Kros until she was spinning around like an idiot, using the Succubus Power in order to save Promi, regretting it afterward and casually tossing away the recording stone—all of it was the same.
In the end, chasing after Dorothy’s place for the possibility of reclaiming that stone ended up causing this calamity to come early, and that was the same too.
It was as if she’d never made a truly thought-out decision.
As if she just wasn’t suited to making decisions.
But, even so, she still didn’t want to sit here and wait for death.
Rita knew that she was about to make an extremely terrible choice.
A choice whose consequences she understood would be absolutely irreversible—yet, even after careful consideration, it was one she still wanted to make.
What was driving her? A sense of responsibility? A sense of justice? Or just pure recklessness?
She didn’t know; Rita couldn’t figure out anything so complicated anymore.
There was only one thing she wanted to do, one thing she had to do.
She wanted to respond to Cecilia’s cry for her.
“Rita!!!”
Black wings unfolded from Rita’s lower back, the rush of wind shredding the already charred and ruined outer garment on her body. Her wine-red eyes glowed with a nocturnal glimmer, a long tail extending down her spine, curling behind the girl.
A pink mist burst from Rita’s body, pitch-black claws as sharp as blades sliced through all the red threads encircling Cecilia.
Rita seemed to hear something shatter along with those threads; the step she had just taken was one she could never turn back from.
Bathed in a rain of shattered light, Rita let out a helpless sigh, stretched out her arms, and gathered the falling girl into her embrace.
Her toes touched lightly on the ground, then she crouched and set Cecilia down.
“Rita………………”
The sound of Cecilia calling her name rang out from in front of her, but Rita could only see Cecilia’s back, unable to catch her expression.
Ha, seeing her in this state, Cecilia must feel deeply betrayed.
After all, she was a demon—the sworn enemy of humankind.
“Mm.” Rita nodded, even though she knew Cecilia wouldn’t see the gesture. “Lady Cecilia, I’m here.”
“Idiot!”
Cecilia spun around and gave Rita’s calf a hard kick.
“Something so important! Why didn’t you tell me!”
Though it didn’t hurt, Rita was stunned by the blow.
“Th-this isn’t something I could tell you, Lady Cecilia, is it?”
“Then what about when you climbed into my bed…” Cecilia bit her lip, showing an expression of angry embarrassment that Rita had never seen before.
“Uh…” Rita nodded, thinking that explaining any further at a time like this would only make it worse. It was even less appropriate to say that she’d done it because she’d been greedy.
“And you…” Cecilia’s face grew even redder, her teeth clenched tight.
“No.” Rita averted her eyes and mumbled, “But you did…”
“Hmm?” Cecilia blinked, and Rita didn’t know if she understood what Rita meant. But soon Cecilia’s next question came, fierce and childish: “Then why do you stick by my side?”
“Wasn’t it you who wanted me to stay by your side…?”
“Then why do you do everything I say, just because I say it?”
“There’s money in it.”
“Sigh.”
Cecilia let out a heavy sigh, rubbing her temples as if lost in thought, but that speechless expression was, to Rita, something entirely new.
“Is there anything else you’re hiding from me?”
Rita was already dumbfounded, and answered blankly, “I’m a Transmigrator…”
“What’s a Transmigrator?” Cecilia frowned.
“It means… I came from another world…”
“That’s nothing. There are plenty of demons from other worlds; one more or less makes no difference.”
“This is different…”
“There’s nothing different about it.” Cecilia pressed on, “That’s all?”
“That’s all.” Rita answered honestly.
“Alright.” Cecilia turned her head and glanced at Dorothy, who had not moved from behind but watched the whole scene with an amused expression. “Now, you’ll protect me, won’t you?”
“Mm.” Rita looked at Dorothy, who made a “carry on” face, and so she nodded again to show her determination.
“Good.”
Cecilia let her lashes fall, then stepped forward, raising her arms to hook them around Rita’s neck.
Rita, caught off guard, was pulled down as Cecilia led her.
Cecilia rose up on tiptoe, held Rita’s head, and pressed her own trembling lips to hers.
Golden lashes brushed against Rita’s cheek. The lips she had once tasted, cold and soft like jelly, made Rita’s reason slowly melt away.
Rita could feel Cecilia’s nervousness, and just as clearly, her initiative.
A single drop of golden blood fell from Cecilia’s tongue, which she had bitten herself, and, together with her invading tongue, was delivered into Rita’s mouth, swallowed down with Cecilia’s unique sweetness.
Stunned, Rita felt as if a burning ball had rolled down her throat. The power that had been consumed before was suddenly replenished by this intimate act, and she sensed that something more had appeared inside her.
Unlike the illusionary mark left by Varfis, this new presence was more solid, as though Rita could grasp it in her hand.
“Fourth Princess.”
Dorothy’s displeased voice sounded from not far away.
“As long as it doesn’t interfere with my experiment, I can bear to watch your little drama for a bit. But you’re crossing the line now.”
Cecilia stuck out her pink tongue, slowly putting some distance between herself and Rita. Her face, tinged with red, bore a determination that was completely different from shyness.
“Rita!”
Still in disbelief, Rita touched the place Cecilia had just kissed. Called by name, she snapped back to her senses.
“Lady Cecilia, I’m here.”
Cecilia turned away, her gaze as sharp as a blade, at odds with her stature and appearance, fixed on Dorothy. “We’ll talk about everything else later. For now, use the power I gave you and win for me!”
“Understood.”
Rita answered with such confidence, but honestly had no idea what Cecilia meant.
The power given to her—what was it? How should she use it?
Never mind, just try it out!
Rita calmed herself and tried to reach for the fireball Cecilia had made her swallow. It was indeed different from the power Varfis had left in her; the gold flame sitting inside her felt as though it was a part of her own body.
If she just willed it a bit, it would become… just like this!
Threads of gold seeped from Rita’s body, sketching different scenes behind her.
Twisted hearts, extensions like withered wings, chaotic lines—each end adorned like Rita’s heart-shaped tail—behind her appeared a rather bizarre hollow emblem.
Though these were lines filled with power beyond reason, it was nothing like a magic circle.
To any subject of the kingdom, such a thing had only one name.
Crest.
The symbol of absolute identity, belonging only to the most outstanding of Holy Knights.
At the same time, it signified the strength to match such status.
Only, no matter how Rita looked at it, she felt awkward.
This… was supposed to be that crest, right?
But why did her crest look just like a silver tattoo!
Even if it was gold, this thing was still a silver tattoo, wasn’t it!
Oh, forget it, why worry about all that!
Rita already knew what to do next.
Taking a deep breath, she waved her hand, and the golden… golden crest floating behind her at once answered her call, falling back onto Rita’s back.
Thankfully it didn’t land anywhere else, or that would have been humiliating.
But Rita could already feel her strength growing, fuller than ever before.
Swish.
Rita flashed, suddenly appearing beside Dorothy, the hand that had turned into a black claw stabbing straight toward her.
A magic shield appeared again, but was torn apart by Rita as easily as paper.
I can do this! Dorothy isn’t my match now!
“Hmph.”
Dorothy snorted. The magic shield instantly repaired itself, clamping down on Rita’s entire wrist like a shackle, trapping her at the heart of the newly formed shield.
At the same time, fire erupted from Dorothy’s palm, instantly engulfing Rita once more.
“Rita! Be careful!”
“Don’t worry! I’m fine!”
Two wings stirred up a violent gale, blowing away all the flames Dorothy spewed forth. Although it wasn’t magic, the power that burst out in that instant was even stronger than the whirlwinds conjured by most Archmages.
Rita jerked her hand free, relying on her own strength to shatter the magic shield that even her sword would have struggled to break, then flexed her slightly sore wrist and turned her gaze back to Dorothy.
“Lady Dorothy, are you ready?”
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