On the front lines in Zarua, I’d been useless. I had zero combat training, no Skills to support me, and yet I’d insisted on going anyway. Seeing it through was my responsibility, I’d said, heedless of how much I’d drag them down.

Roxina would have killed me, if it wasn’t for them.

Would they have had an easier time without me? Or had my troops been buoyed by their King’s presence? I recalled stories, histories, where the King had been a mighty warrior, inspiring his soldiers from the front line as he led them into battle.

I couldn’t do that.

Viewing the big picture from outside had its advantages, but there was one part that tore me apart. I couldn’t be there. Either I narrowed my perspective and had the opportunity to protect my friends, or I directed everything from the outside like some detached fucking chessmaster.

Either way, I lost something. In my experience, people were generally shit, but the ones I’d met since my arrival in this world were different. Could I trust them with myself? Probably not, but I could trust them to do what was needed toward our common goal.

But how was I supposed to repay them? What could I actually do, beyond ordering them to get something done? All I did was move the pieces.

Those Kings who rode out with their men, seeking glory, probably would have laughed at me. Why couldn’t I do both? In the end, it all came down to one thing.

I was weak. In the face of a normal soldier, never mind a Demon Lord, I was more likely to end up a kebab than any measure of victorious.

One thing I wasn’t, though, was letting Shia face Tenma alone.

She’d stomached the idea of dying to his hand, all to protect the rest of us. I had no idea what was with the book, aside from the fact it was apparently a remnant left behind by a god, but if this guy wanted it, it couldn’t be for any good reasons.

Shouts came from behind me as I sprinted toward the flickering portal. It was getting smaller…

Tenma had busted into my. Fucking. Council Chambers. With casual violence, he’d wounded one of my friends, and forced another to hand over a one-of-a-kind possession. And for what?

We had no idea of his goals, even though this wasn’t his first appearance. He’d mentioned Vox—the god of death. Another relic? Maybe he was chasing them, and that’s why his only interest in us had been to leverage Shia.

It made sense.

However, each was said to possess a divine power. Whatever Tenma was planning by collecting Relics, it was more than likely cataclysmic. Plus, he’d pissed me off. He had to be stopped.

I had to stop him. As the portal wavered, I plunged through it, a nausea twisting my head as I landed on solid rock.

We were in a cavern, vast but stuffy, filled with plinths and statues and cases containing wondrous artefacts that made me dizzy. Well, dizzier.

A golden glint caught my attention. A few feet away, in a glass case lined with something soft, lay a sword. Its short, double-edged blade shone under the fires burning all across the walls. Who had lit them? Thrumming with power, it was almost like the blade called out to me, its golden pommel begging to sit in my hand.

The walls appeared smooth, as though painstakingly filed down, and massive stalactites hung from the distant ceiling, frozen from a glorious fall. If my arms grew twice as long, and I wrapped them around the thickest, I still wouldn’t reach halfway.

What was this place, some kind of underground museum?

About twenty feet away, Tenma stood observing the exhibits. Behind him, Shia bounced nervously on the balls of her feet, sweating profusely.

“Magnificent,” said Tenma, eyeing a wooden stick with a cotton ball on the end. “The power is… something else.”

What could a stick do, anyway?

Shia chuckled nervously. “Yes, it’s… the Royal Academy keeps a lot of things here.”

“And how did you get in?”

“I, um…” She shifted on her feet; she did that a lot. Obviously, she was uncomfortable, and I couldn’t blame her.

Tenma glanced up at me, his deadpan eyes catching me and freezing me. “You.”

“Yeah,” I said, sneering, “that’s my Mage you’ve got, there. And what do you know about the System?” Shia wrinkled her brow, slackening.

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Without replying, or taking his eyes off me, he grabbed Shia’s arm.

“Where is the book, child?”

“Not here.” Squealing, Shia screwed her eyes shut, turning away as the Demon Lord dragged her closer.

“Then why have you brought me here?”

“Because,” she said, her voice quavering, “there is something else here.”

Tenma blinked slowly and exhaled. “And what might that be?”

“The sword Shakkar.” She pointed over to a case near me—it was the sword that had caught my attention. With a grimace, she caught my eye, almost begging me to understand.

“What of it?” asked Tenma, rubbernecking between us suspiciously.

On a hunch, I popped open Ruler View, linking myself to Shia.

What’s with the sword? I thought.

It’s supposed to have the power to imprison Demons in a different dimension! Shakkar comes from the old Sarabethian word for gravity, and—

I can’t use enchantments, remember? Only a Mage can.

Shakkar is different! It was made for normal warriors to defeat Demons and Mages, so the enchantment is activated by the target’s magic!

My brain halted. How… did that even work? What were the rules, specifically? I supposed, at that moment, it didn’t really matter.

Leaving the connection open, I lunged for the blade.

Tenma jerked after spotting my movement, forgetting Shia and racing for the sword himself. He found himself slowed, however, a pulsing from Shia’s hand dragging him back toward her.

She huffed and panted, kneeling, and gave a quivering but determined expression.

Tenma turned back and growled. Taking the opportunity, I knocked the glass from the sword’s plinth, picking up the blade and nearly bowing beneath its weight. The golden pommel touching my hand almost burned, radiating power, and I had to grit my teeth against the jagged burning sensation running up my arm.

It made me forget my previously skinned fingers, which—Body Mages or not—stil twinged occasionally.

Facing me, Tenma’s nose twitched.

Shia, I thought, my stomach fluttering, I think I wanna fly.

Her face lit up in shock, but she pointed her energy at me, and a force ripped me away. I barrelled through the air in no time flat, ending up before Tenma without having a proper grip. The Demon’s eyes widened, a gasp escaping as Shakkar pierced his armour like a pillowcase.

Unfortunately, since it was me wielding it, and also since I was travelling fast enough to leave a boom in my wake, I didn’t get his heart. Instead, he twisted, and I only managed to stab him in his side.

He grunted, but no blood flowed. I furrowed my brow. At this point, the magic sword usually does its thing, yeah?

What happened to my rule-breaking?!

Shia! I trembled as Tenma gripped the edges of the blade, the screeching of his gauntlets tearing echoing through the cavern. He glared into me, and I felt like if I stared too long, my soul would melt into a puddle of goo.

I thought you said it’s supposed to seal him!

Well, yes, it is supposed to, but—

But you don’t know, right?

Unfortunately not, but this was an excellent experiment. I’ll see you in the Jewelled Halls!

Oi, don’t be so blase about the fact we’re both about to die, you weirdo! Tenma grunted, his lip curling as he pulled the glowing blade from his side. I struggled, pushing with all my strength, but despite the ache setting into my muscles, I couldn’t hold it

“Fools…” said Tenma. “The book… would have saved you.”

I scoffed. “From you, maybe.”

He finally removed Shakkar, and his wound started gushing black smoke.

Grunting again, the Demon took to a knee, his shoulders tensing and his knees locking.

“No,” he said, his voice fading, “Evremar comes.”

With that, he exploded.

Black dust shot out in every direction, invading my nostrils and mouth, and I started coughing my guts up. Tears filled my eyes, and I couldn’t see. I fell to all fours, hacking on the dust, and rested my face on the cool stone.

After a while, and some severely aching ribs, I managed to bring it down to a cough every ten seconds or so, so I braved getting back to my feet.

Shia stumbled toward me, her face covered in black.

“Um…” I goggled—no Tenma to be seen, just a pile of dust where he’d been standing. “It worked.”

“No,” panted Shia, staggering over and fingering the blade. Predictably, she nicked herself, and drew her hand back, hissing. “According to the stories, it makes the Demon collapse in on themselves and be sent to another space, not explode.”

I narrowed my eyes. “In that case, what the fuck?”

“It was likely a Construct,” she said, sucking her bleeding finger. “A magical creation animated by the mana imbued within it. For it to be so powerful…” She shuddered.

And she was right. If that had only been a Construct, an agent Tenma had created to do his dirty work for him, then just how strong was the real thing?

Suddenly, wiping out entire battalions didn’t sound so unrealistic.

If Tenma got his hands on the Relics, who knew what would come next? And what if he decided to come back…?

That seemed more and more likely as I thought about it. Tenma wanted the Relics, and Shia possessed one. I didn’t know how she had it, or why she hid it, but that was the case, so we’d have to deal with it.

But still, his words bounced around my mind. What was Evremar?

“At least we know one thing,” said Shia. “Tenma is capable of performing Divine magic.”

Wait, these Constructs were Divine? “Without the Grimoire?”

She giggled. “Silly. You don’t need a Relic to learn Divine magic, just the ability.”

“I see…” In the end, though I was remiss to pry into her secrets, I’d have to learn this one before it came back to bite us again. “So—”

“Before we go,” she said, a mad spark in her eye, “what did you mean when you mentioned a ‘System’?”