◆

*The moment support intervenes, the balance collapses.*

Fortunately, as the battle continued, Bulryak had moved quite far from the corner. If someone could bypass through the building and block the reinforcements, there might be a chance to make a move once or twice.

The problem was that there was no one available for such a task. The five paladins including Amiel, Onyxia, and Rubyca were all engaged in combat with Bulryak, so they were out of the question.

The only people with any leeway were three injured paladins and—

*One protagonist.*

There were no adventurers to call upon. The only people positioned on the buildings were those who had exhausted all their slots.

But sending the protagonist in alone was unthinkable. There was no way they would return unharmed.

My gaze involuntarily shifted. It landed on the corpse of a paladin whose waist had been crushed by an axe blade. Buried in a pile of imp corpses, nothing of his former nobility, fighting spirit, or anything else could be felt.

Death is fleeting, disgusting, and frightening.

It was the same when Bulryak crushed an adventurer's head, or when a paladin fighting alongside us died without resistance. Watching someone die before your eyes is terrifyingly cruel.

But when I imagine the protagonist ending up like that, an indescribable emotion overwhelms me.

My hands trembled uncontrollably. My mind went blank.

*You tried to protect the protagonist. You promised to become stronger for that purpose, Hazel.*

I needed to find a solution.

Somehow, a way to resolve this without the protagonist having to step forward.

Five slots remained.

Two Level 0 spells.

I could cast Frost Ray.

Without enough water to freeze enemies, it could only be used to cool down Rubyca's heat.

One Level 1 spell.

I could cast Magic Shield or Magic Arrow.

Magic Arrow is basically designed for a single target, so it's not suitable for facing a group.

One Level 2 spell.

Spatial Jump and Lightning Sphere.

One Level 3 spell.

Fireball and Lightning Strike.

A single area-of-effect spell wouldn't be enough to clear out the approaching enemies. To reduce their numbers enough for the protagonist to handle them comfortably, I'd need to use up both my Level 2 and Level 3 spells. That would certainly work.

*I'd love to do that, but then I wouldn't have any slots left for Bulryak.*

Wasting spells leads to defeat. In the end, it would just be a question of whether the protagonist falls first or we all fall together. Using up all my slots wasn't a good choice.

*Is there a better option?*

There isn't.

*Is there any other way?*

There wasn't.

*Think, Hazel, please.*

This is what you do best.

If you can't do this, there's no reason for you to be in the party.

You need to protect your acquaintances, your companions, the person you love!

Even as I whipped myself mentally, no viable solution came to mind.

It was fear. I had lost my composure feeling the terror of death approaching. It was love. The thought of possibly losing the protagonist was eating away at my cold-bloodedness.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to run away screaming.

Time seemed to flow slowly.

Rubyca's face was flushed red. Despite that, she wasn't sweating much. Her swollen muscles flexed as if they might snap and spring at any moment.

In contrast, thick beads of sweat were dripping from Onyxia's chin. Her chest heaved as if she was struggling to breathe. Though she rarely faced enemies head-on, she had to move more than others to find openings.

Amiel, who had left me with a poor first impression, was fighting more passionately than anyone. Watching her face as she shouted orders, the memory of her polite and calm demeanor began to fade.

I don't know. Actually, I do know.

Nothing. What I should do.

How I should. What I need to do.

It might be better. I'm just pretending not to know.

A spring breeze gently caressed my head. Time resumed its normal pace.

The sudden warm breeze stroked between my pointed ears, the spot that brings the most joy when petted, and said, "I'll be back."

*No.*

The protagonist's limited involvement in this battle was because of me.

I had demanded an escort, claiming there might be unexpected situations. Naturally, I designated the protagonist for that role.

Everyone readily agreed with my opinion. It wasn't a strange request, and I was worth it. The safety of a mage who could cast Level 3 spells was worth more than trading for a vanguard.

Though it happened differently than I had expected, in a way, I had achieved my goal.

By becoming stronger, I had managed to protect the protagonist.

The confession I had swallowed down, the rapid growth I gave up by eating winter root—all of it hadn't been in vain. This was the moment that proved it.

I had protected love.

Even if I had to give up love in return.

*Don't go.*

I wished they would understand.

My care for them.

My consideration for you.

My love for you.

"Hazel."

The protagonist looked at my face with a surprised expression. But they quickly erased the bewilderment that appeared and called my name with a gentle smile.

"Remember? We're connected. Don't worry too much."

The hand that had been stroking my head fell away. Then, it lightly touched my chest. The right hand, the one marked with the Imprint.

"You know I'm not a bad master who would carelessly risk your life, right? I'll fight carefully, if only for your sake."

After finishing, the protagonist ran toward a nearby building. Not just them—two of the injured who had been hanging back tightly bound their wounds and followed.

"Amazing..."

"Isn't it?"

Though I had muttered it quietly, the paladin leaning against the wall heard and responded.

His face was contorted with pain, but his voice carried unmistakable pride. If his severed limb hadn't been his leg, he too would have followed his comrades.

It was dazzling.

The backs of those who willingly rushed into danger, knowing the risks, looked so, so noble.

I felt like a shadow, having selfishly kept the protagonist away from the battlefield. The longer their nobility shone, the longer my shallow darkness stretched.

Without realizing it, my hand went to my temple. Why? I recalled the dream I had after learning Lightning Strike—no, my encounter with fate.

Right now, I wouldn't be surprised if horns sprouted from my head. I felt more vile than a demon.

Stay safe. Let nothing happen.

Let us all sit around the table when this is over, laughing and complaining about how tough things were, just like always.

*Please.*

If that could happen, I wouldn't mind if my petty love remained unfulfilled. After making this brief wish, I turned my attention back to the battlefield.

In the brief moment I had looked away, the battle situation had changed dramatically. Those crossing weapons with Bulryak seemed to be making their move before reinforcements arrived.

*I should have plucked one more leaf from that clover.*

The thought just occurred to me.

※

After the mage on lookout announced the enemy's approach, the atmosphere on the battlefield changed significantly.

Those on offense became sharper.

Those on defense became more solid.

The time limit had been announced to everyone.

Naturally, those who needed to defeat the enemy became more urgent.

It was time to make a decisive move, but no one dared to act rashly.

For those attacking as a group, coordinated strikes were paramount. Everyone was frustrated by their inability to share their thoughts with each other.

The enemy was a demon with at least two pairs of wings. It wouldn't fall for a strategy openly discussed.

Nevertheless, there was a basic framework they all shared without needing to speak.

The target was the lemon-colored glowing horn.

Since it was positioned high, to attack the horn, one would need to climb up the demon's body or force it to lower its upper body.

Naturally, this filtered out who could target the horn.

No one was more qualified than Onyxia.

To achieve the objective, they needed to temporarily bind the powerful arms. Targeting the legs to reduce mobility would be ideal.

Kyaaaak!

An imp wailed. The three who had turned to form a defensive line collided with the demon's forces.

Though time was of the essence, those facing off against Bulryak didn't move hastily. A strange belief had blossomed among those who had fought together today.

A belief that the tiny mage, barely reaching their chests, would do something.

"Fall, lightning!"

That belief transformed into light and struck down.

The spell aimed at the horn was greedily swallowed by the metal left arm that Bulryak suddenly raised. Though it didn't hit the intended target, that was good enough.

Various parts of the demon's body twitched. Strong electric currents flowed, causing startled muscles to move erratically. Based on past experience, it wasn't completely paralyzed, but it would certainly have difficulty moving as before.

Rubyca moved. Sweat trickled down her forehead, which had turned alarmingly red. She quickly hooked her halberd onto the exposed part of the mechanical arm and pressed down on the shaft with all her might.

As the shaft tilted toward the ground, she even put one foot on it, adding her weight. A nearby paladin quickly jumped onto the shaft to help her.

Simultaneously, four paladins including Amiel rushed at the opposite arm, the one holding the massive axe. The largest paladin threw away his sword and clung to the axe head. Despite the thick blade digging into and splitting the flesh on his shoulder, he showed no concern.

The remaining three clung to the axe handle. With pressure applied to both arms, Bulryak's waist naturally bent. Consequently, the bull-like head lowered, and the horns pointed downward.

Onyxia charged at the now-accessible target. The demon drew a dagger with a thick blade in her right hand and kicked off the ground.

At that moment, a sinister clank rang out.

The two people subduing the metal arm lost their balance and staggered.

The same happened to those hanging from the giant double-bladed axe.

Like a taut string suddenly snapping, they all lost their center of gravity and stumbled.

"—!"

With a roar reminiscent of a buffalo, Bulryak twisted his upper body. His right arm, which should have been holding a weapon, was empty, and his left arm had detached from the shoulder.

A horrific sound of flesh being torn and bones breaking followed.

The demon's thick hand, pig-like with four fingers, ripped through Onyxia's chest and emerged from her back.

In its hand was a gem emitting a bright yellow light. With a white line running through its center, it looked exactly like a cat's eye.