Happy New Year.

Thank you for your support this year as well.

On the bridge of the Imperial Army's grand flagship, alarms were blaring.

"We've lost all communication with our allies!"
"The affiliation of the Unknown fleet is still unidentified!"
"We are continuing our engagement with the Banfield family's fleet, but—"

Listening to the confused voices of the operators was the Supreme Commander, Cleo.

He pressed his back into his seat, gripping the armrests, feeling uneasy about the situation.

"What's happening? What is Hampson doing?! Tryde? Dustin?!"

Communication with his supposedly reliable allies had been cut off, and they were now acting on their own.

Normally, this would be an unforgivable situation, but Cleo could also sense that the current circumstances were highly unusual.

Cleo asked his men about the number of allied forces.

"How many allies are following our orders?!"

The soldier he asked answered immediately, but—his attention seemed more focused on the abnormal situation than on Cleo.

"A-About three thousand ships."

Some ships had been absorbed by the Unknown fleet, while others were in disarray, confused by the abnormal situation.

There were even ships that were fleeing amidst the chaos.

As a result, only three thousand ships remained under Cleo's command.

"Withdraw from this sector immediately."

(How can we keep fighting in a situation like this?)

Judging that he couldn't fight Liam like this, Cleo issued the order to retreat.

The soldiers who heard this were bewildered.

"But, our allies—"

"Is this any time to worry about those who continue to ignore orders?! My mission is to return at once and report this situation to His Majesty. H-Hurry up!"

"Understood!"

The soldiers who received the order were confused at first, but they quickly regained their composure.

It seemed that, in their hearts, they were all happy to be able to escape this place.

And so, Cleo retreated from the battlefield.

(It's not my fault. It's not my fault.)

With things having come to this, a retreat was unavoidable—or so he told himself.

◇

We were running through the interior of the enemy flagship, the Garun.

Slightly behind me on both sides were Rinho and Fuuka.

Whenever an obstacle appeared, Rinho and Fuuka would unleash a flash-strike, slicing through both enemies and traps.

Most of them were no match for us, but there were a few troublesome ones mixed in.

"You two, the next enemy is a bit tricky."

As I called out to them, Rinho was the first to move.

Waiting in our path was an old man with white hair and a white beard.

He wore shabby clothes and at first glance looked like some kind of village elder—but even we could tell he was a master.

The weapon in his hand was a katana.

He had been holding his katana at the ready since before we arrived, and upon seeing him, Rinho leaped in front of me and laughed.

"I thought it was all just small fry, but it looks like there's someone who can actually fight!"

As Rinho said that, she unleashed a flash-strike, but the old man twisted his body and dodged it.

"Heh—not bad."

He then rushed towards us, but judging from his physical abilities, he didn't seem to have undergone any physical enhancement treatments.

The katana he held was nothing special.

No, if anything, it was a shoddy piece of work.

But despite holding such a blade, the old man approached Rinho with nimble movements.

For whatever reason, Rinho drew her katana instead of using a flash-strike.

Rinho, deliberately choosing to cross swords with the old man, seemed to be enjoying herself even in this situation.

"Rinho."

I called her name as a warning, but Rinho was smiling.

"I'll finish this quickly. Right, old man?"

Rinho, skillfully wielding her longsword, clashed blades with the old man several times.

It was a situation where the old man was fighting with only his technique against Rinho's overwhelming power and speed.

But that only lasted for three exchanges.

On the fourth, Rinho's longsword split the old man's body.

"Aha! That was fun, old man."

We were short on time, so we immediately started running again, but Rinho wiped the liquid from her blade before sheathing it.

Fuuka had a look of incomprehension on her face.

"Why did you even bother fighting him? You could have ended it with a single flash-strike."

Hearing Fuuka's words, Rinho let out a small sigh.

"Because it was fun, obviously. Even our senior brother was interested, right?"

Having the question thrown at me, I answered without turning back.

"That's right."

If he hadn't received any physical enhancements, does that mean he'd only lived for about half as long as we have?

To have honed his swordsmanship in a natural body for such a short time, to the point where he could dodge a flash-strike and trade blows with Rinho.

It could only be described as phenomenal.

"If we had the time, I would have wanted to fight him too."

When I agreed with her, Rinho seemed pleased and became cheerful.

"Right?! If we had more time, I would have played with him a little longer."

Hearing our conversation, Fuuka looked somewhat dejected.

However, we didn't have time to dwell on it.

After all—

"So that old man was a warrior protecting Pharabal."

—A massive door came into view, one that might as well have been politely announcing the presence of a demon lord.

I unleashed a flash-strike, tearing the door to shreds, and fragments of the thick metal door fell to the floor.

Looking inside the room, I saw a space worthy of being called an audience chamber.

The sinister yet luxurious room, unbelievable for the inside of a warship, was indeed a fitting place for a demon lord to be waiting.

Well, it's not to my taste, so I have no intention of copying it.

"You've certainly made me wait."

As we stepped into the audience chamber, Pharabal rose from his throne and began to applaud.

Pharabal was waiting alone in the audience chamber.

"Magnificent. You have defeated the vassals I had stationed here and have done well to reach my side. Although—it seems they were all rather unsatisfying opponents for you."

In response to Pharabal's composed demeanor, Rinho took a stance.

"For a skeleton who can only prepare small fry, you're acting pretty high and mighty."

She was speaking provocatively, but a look at Rinho showed she was breaking out in a cold sweat.

As for Fuuka, her hands were trembling slightly.

—It wasn't the trembling of excitement, but pure fear.

Seeing the bluffing Rinho, Pharabal clattered his jaw as if laughing.

"I adore strong-willed warriors! I shall make you my vassal as well."

"Don't underestimate me!"

Rinho unleashed a full-power flash-strike, and Pharabal took up the greatsword that had been leaning against his throne.

He thrust the greatsword into the floor as if it were a shield, blocking Rinho's flash-strike.

"Wha—?!"

Rinho and Fuuka looked astonished, but Pharabal was in high spirits.

"Good. Very good! To still have the courage to strike at me even after realizing my strength is wonderful! —In contrast, I am disappointed in the dual-wielding woman. With such strong swordsmanship, why are you trembling?"

Pharabal had seen through Fuuka's fear.

Fuuka reached for the hilt of her sword, but when Pharabal exerted his pressure, both she and Rinho became unable to move.

"Guh—?!"

"How dull. You possess strength, yet your heart is too weak. —You are not needed."

Being told she was not needed by Pharabal, Fuuka looked shocked for some reason.

Even though being liked by this guy meant nothing.

"I-I'm n—not weak!"

"No, you are weak. As proof, are you not cowering before me? Lord Liam and that swordswoman there both have the will to confront me! Compared to them, what are you?"

"I am! I am a practitioner of the One-Flash Style—"

Seeing Fuuka at a loss for words, Pharabal made a gesture as if to sigh.

"Lord Liam, you must have noticed as well, haven't you? This person is not worthy of the strong. So why does a powerful one such as yourself keep her around?"

Having the question directed at me, I stepped in front of the two of them and drew my favorite katana.

"This one is too much for you two to handle. I'll be his opponent."

Seeing my back, Fuuka started to say something.

"Senior brother, I—I am—"

"I'll hear you out later."

He may be a cheerful skeleton, but his skills were the real deal.

That same Pharabal was now staring intently at my katana.

"Ohh, could that katana be made of True Gold?"

"What?"

When I reacted to the word 'gold', Pharabal began to speak about my katana.

"True Gold, Holy Gold, God's Gold, God of Gold—it has many names, but it is a rare metal that exists in every universe."

Is it something like mithril, which is called Holy Silver?

As a lover of gold, I was delighted to learn that my favorite katana was made with such a rare metal.

—Should I take it out?

Pharabal trembled—this time, apparently from excitement—and looked up to the heavens, spreading his arms wide.

"A sword truly befitting the hero who challenges me! To wield a katana containing even a small amount of God's Gold, which is poison and a natural enemy to us, you are truly a true hero!"

Apparently, my katana is poison to these guys.

But is this guy an idiot?

"Was it really a good idea to give that information to me, your enemy?"

Pharabal seemed startled and apologized.

"My apologies. It is rude for those about to fight to get lost in conversation. Please forgive my discourtesy."

"I don't care. But I also have something I want to ask you—"

Just as I thought it was my turn to ask a question, I raised my katana to block the greatsword that Pharabal swung down.

He had closed the distance in an instant and brought his greatsword down.

His fighting style was very similar to the Sword Saint I once defeated—but Pharabal's swordsmanship was on a different level.

A dull light emanated from deep within the skeleton's eye sockets.

"Further talk is meaningless! For now, let us simply enjoy this fight to the death!"

—So he's another one who doesn't listen to people.

While parrying the greatsword wielded by Pharabal with my katana, I still pressed him with my question.

I have to ask.

I have to confirm it.

"I'll make you answer one way or another. Answer my question."

I swung my katana, aiming to slice through the enemy's torso, but Pharabal blocked it with his greatsword.

"If you can defeat me, I will answer anything—or, you could surrender to my army! Let us talk together for all of eternity!"

"I refuse."