Zathrian protected my head as we landed on the concrete a few metres away from the mob. “Are you okay?” His face was full of worry.

I grabbed onto his coat tightly. “I-I’m fine… what about the others? The choir? My family?!” My voice was trembling in fear and shock.

He got me back to my feet. “The knights are there. They’re going to be fine. Trust me.”

“N-No, you’re just saying that—“

I walked absentmindedly in the direction of the temple to make sure some choir members made it out alive but Zathrian held me back. I tried pulling my arm but he was stronger. He pulled me by the waist instead.

“Lilivienne, I need you to calm down.”

I glared at him with tearful eyes. “But why me? When you could’ve—you’re capable of saving more—“

Zathrian’s worried expression turned cold. He didn’t like what he heard. “You didn’t like that I saved your life? You’re mad that I chose you?”

I looked back at the stage. My life may have been saved thanks to him but the people who were meant to die might have gone through it again. This isn’t Remembering World anymore, where I could simply reset my progress whenever I wanted to. These are real people around me and once they die, they will never come back.

“This is my fault…”

He looked at me with confusion. “This isn’t anybody’s fault, Lilivienne…”

Just like in the game, the sky turned red and dusty particles have become visible upon the spawn of Diabolos Apocalypsis. Members of the Forsaken Order also resurfaced from portals to terrorize the plaza.

The ground rumbled from the terrifying roars of Diabolos Apocalypsis. Standing almost 50 feet tall, the demon took Astaroth’s original form of having ashy dragon scales and humanoid features. Its face was feminine with pointed ears and large horns. On its back were large horned bat wings and a long serpent-like tail that dragged to its feet.

The capital and so was the rest of the kingdom was in chaos. The knights were split into evacuating the citizens and fending off the demon god until the rest of the reinforcements arrived. Swordsmen, magicians and marksmen of all types around the area—even those who were unaffiliated with any sectors—were also ready to help.

Three portals spawned in front of us releasing three forsakers each holding a wooden staff. Zathrian pulled out his blade imbued with the agni element and attacked them in a swift pattern—slaughtering them to ashes before they could even enchant dark spells.

With blood splattered on his cheek and uniform, Zathrian turned back to me. “Lilivienne, I need you to get out of here.”

“But—“

“Hey! Officers!” He called two Evermore knights running in the direction of the temple.

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“Prince Zathrian!”

“This is Lady Lilivienne of the Van der Horst House. I want you to bring her to safety.”

“W-What about you?” I asked.

He reached for my face. “I’ll be alright. You don’t have to worry.”

“Please don’t die!” I tugged on his cravat. “I didn’t reach this part just for you to die here!”

A smirk formed on his lips. “I’ll reach even the depths of hell to keep you safe if you’d let me. So go. For you, I’ll come back alive.” Then he left with the other Evermore knights for battle against the forsakers. I watched as the cultists surrounded them amidst the unclear surroundings.

Zathrian wielded his sword against the forsakers. With such expertise, he switched to his revolver and shot a few enemies within his range using electro bolts—an element related to agni. More forsakers spawned around them, making him strike his blade to the ground with the aqua element and freezing their bodies with glacio. He took that as a chance to finish them with more electro bolts.

He was much more brutal before my eyes than he was in the game.

“We need to go, my lady. It’s getting dangerous.”

Witnessing the way he fought was enough for me to willingly leave with the knights on his orders. The two assisted me across the plaza to get me into a carriage out of there. We ran past the citizens running for their lives away from the forsakers and destruction perpetrated by Diabolos Apocalypsis. To think that something far worse than this will happen in the future just made me want to enter a mental breakdown.

“Mommy! Where are you, mommy?” A tiny voice of a child stopped me in my tracks. It was a little girl walking the opposite way of the fleeing citizens. Three to four forsakers spawned around the child and blocked their way.

“My lady!”

I ran in their direction without hesitation, ignoring the dust and dirt particles coming towards me. I pulled my grimoire and chanted a slightly complex spell—an electro spell—similar to Zathrian’s electro bolts. Thanks to my maxed magic item set, my mana doubled which made the enchantment possible.

A magic circle appeared in front of me and a series of electro-magic projectiles hit the forsakers around the child. They turned to ashes just before I reached the little girl.

“Are you okay?” I asked calmly as I searched for possible injuries.

“My mommy, I want my mommy!”

“Mila!” A lady from behind approached us.

“Mommy!” The girl went and hugged her mother. The lady carried her child in her arms and looked at me in tears.

“Thank you. May Saint Adrian bless you.”

I could only deliver a faint smile. The guilt for not fully preventing this scenario continued to linger in my heart. “Please leave the plaza this instant and ask the knights for help. They will keep you safe.”

She thanked me again before running away with her daughter.

“My lady!” The two knights finally caught up with me. Despite my doubled mana, it still drained a portion of my body. My condition will worsen further if I stay longer.

I looked back at the giant silhouette of Diabolos Apocalypsis terrorizing the plaza grounds. If that was not Zathrian, then who could this person be?

Are they an important figure in Valencourt—or any of the other kingdoms—to be worthy enough for Evermore to wage war with in the future?

The upcoming war will be inevitable depending on their identity. But to know about it, they have to be defeated first. The only one who can do that—

—has finally arrived.

The next scenario felt like a movie. A blonde guy who seemed to be in his early twenties, in his travelling attire and a claymore in hand, was standing at the tallest roof of an establishment viewing the temple and the entirety of the plaza. He was surveying the state of the kingdom he just landed on by boat not even an hour ago.

“What is this mess?”

It was Maximilian the Hero.