The demon in the jet-black robe——the one who ran Ro through——Mudra leaps far backward.
(Wh-what……is……this……!?)
What fills his vision is a level of magical power from another dimension entirely.
A ‘pressure’ unlike anything he has ever experienced cuts into his skin, and an extraordinary killing intent twists the very space around him.
(……I see. This really is a ‘monster’……)
His instincts as a living creature were telling him.
Run. Now.
As Mudra breaks into a cold sweat, Luna fires off the highest-tier spells in rapid succession, no incantation.
“——<Time Stop>. <Subspace Transfer>. <Divine Sanctuary>.”
<Time Stop> halts the flow of time in the world. <Subspace Transfer> isolates Ro in a safe pocket of subspace. <Divine Sanctuary> erects an absolutely inviolable barrier around her.
A perfect defensive formation——one that even the Great Demon King once struggled to break through——constructed in an instant.
(That guarantees Ro’s safety no matter what happens. All that remains is eliminating the demon in front of me.)
With a clarity of thought unlike any she has had before, Luna methodically plays her best moves one by one.
She is the type that, when pushed past the peak of fury, does not get swept away by it——but becomes, if anything, colder.
Meanwhile——Mudra, having resisted Luna’s <Time Stop> with <Time Stop Resistance>, grins in the frozen world.
“Heh heh……the black-haired girl was the wrong one——you’re the real thing, aren’t you! (Highest-tier spells fired in rapid succession with no incantation……. There’s no room for doubt now. This silver-haired one is the Saint’s reincarnation!)”
A ferocious, savage face. Eyes blazing with a warped fighting spirit. A mouth split open to breaking point——seeing it, Luna understands immediately.
“Ah……you’re a battle-crazed demon, aren’t you. All right, let’s go.”
When facing the Saint, demons fall into roughly three behavioral patterns.
The most common is immediate retreat.
The next most common is throwing everything aside and begging for their life.
Rarely seen is taking up a fighting stance with apparent delight.
The demon before her is unmistakably the third type——a rare sort that finds pleasure in ‘battle’ itself.
Mudra wears an expression of pure joy and sheds the jet-black robe from his shoulders.
“The name’s Mudra Harlen! Highest-tier demon, Lord of the Night who governs the ‘Shadow’! Saint’s reincarnation——let us meet in honorable combat……!”
He pulls his right leg back with a great sweep, sets his magic sword raised in an overhead-thrust stance, and fixes his gaze on the Saint before him——and in that instant, a strange sensation overtakes him.
“……Huh……?”
His vision slowly tilts diagonally downward.
“What……the, what is this, what are you do——gkh……”
Suddenly blood spills from the corner of his mouth, and the blade of his magic sword clatters against the floor.
He slowly lowers his gaze, and there——
“……What……the hell……?”
——is his own torso, bisected at a diagonal.
“……I see……. It’s……already over, is it……”
His upper half slides down with a slow, wet drag, leaving only the lower half standing vacantly upright.
The Saint had swung her right hand at a speed beyond Mudra’s perception, and the shockwave from it had bisected his torso.
“——Weak. Not even worth my time.”
Eyes cold enough to freeze, a toneless voice delivering the words without inflection.
Those words from Luna——
“……!”
——destroyed Mudra’s pride.
To live for battle, to die for battle.
For him, a true ‘battle-crazed’ demon in the most literal sense——that whispered truth, which the Saint had let slip without even thinking, was a humiliation that trampled his dignity into the ground.
And having utterly demolished both the body and the spirit of the enemy demon without a trace of mercy, Luna runs to Ro’s side.
“Ro, I’ll heal you right away.”
Just as she is about to activate the highest-tier recovery magic——Mudra’s low, vulgar laugh rings out.
“Kuh, ha ha ha ha……! Useless, useless, useless! My magic sword is the ‘Cursed Blade of Absolute Death’! A single swing that kills whatever it cuts, instantly——the worst blade in existence!”
As a highest-tier demon, a bisected torso won’t kill him.
Having had his pride shattered, he is trying to shatter Luna’s heart in return.
“My blade pierced that woman’s heart perfectly! Ro Steinclaw has been dead for ages already! No matter what magic you use, the ‘absolute conclusion’ that is ‘death’ cannot be changed——”
“——Then I’ll bring her back.”
“……Huh……?”
Luna abandons the recovery magic she was building and switches immediately to resurrection magic.
“St-stop! What are you thinking!? If you do that……it will come! Do you understand!?”
Mudra screams with a look of sheer panic.
And with good reason——in this world, ‘resurrection’ is considered an ‘absolute taboo.’
‘Recovery’ is fine. ‘Reincarnation’ is fine.
But resurrection alone is never permitted.
“Well yes, it will come, I expect.”
Paying no heed whatsoever to Mudra’s protests, Luna goes on building the magic without pause.
(Th-this woman is insane……. Every screw in her head is completely blown……)
Mudra feels genuine fear at the sight of the Saint moving to break a taboo without a moment’s hesitation.
(Now then……let’s begin.)
Luna focuses her consciousness and activates the ‘highest-tier forbidden spell.’
“——<Sacred Soul: Recurrence>.”
“St-stooooop……!”
Mudra’s desperate plea goes unheeded, and the magic takes form on the Saint’s enormous magical energy——holy light envelops Ro’s entire body.
<Sacred Soul: Recurrence> is a rare instance of a holy-attribute spell that has nonetheless been designated a forbidden spell, possessing the uniquely singular effect of ‘resurrection of the dead.’
However, it functions correctly only within the single minute before the soul of the deceased fully departs the body.
The reason Luna’s very first action was <Time Stop>——halting the world’s flow of time——was precisely because she had been prepared for a worst-case situation like this.
“It’s……coming……it will……come……!”
Holy magical power blazes with a light about to overflow, and as Mudra’s face contorts with terror, an irregularity occurs in the frozen world.
The <Sacred Soul: Recurrence> Luna had activated is forcibly nullified, and jet-black darkness spreads to consume the surroundings.
From the far end of the great lecture hall——pouring from the depths of subspace——is a pure, absolute black, as if the abyss itself had been scooped up and given form.
“——Are you the ones who seek to defy the ‘providence of death’?”
The only word for this existence is ‘death god.’
The kind written on tarot cards, the kind that appears in fairy tales——a god of death.
Roughly three meters tall, a skeletal frame draped in jet-black silk, a great scythe gripped in its hands, floating and swaying in the air.
This is why ‘resurrection’ has been taboo since time immemorial.
“N-no, not me……! It wasn’t me! I didn’t resurrect anyone! It was all this insane woman——”
As Mudra frantically shakes his head, the death god extends one finger smoothly.
“——<Death’s Embrace>.”
“Ah, ghk, ngh……!”
Mudra’s body is devoured by writhing darkness and gone.
Not bone, not flesh, not even his soul remains.
‘Death’ in the most literal sense has been delivered.
Resurrection is an act contrary to the providence of death——an act that is, by definition, a challenge to the death god.
Those who perform resurrection, those who take part in it, those merely suspected of taking part in it——the existence that forcibly brings ‘rebels against the providence of death’ back within its framework: that is the death god.
And——having nullified <Death’s Embrace> as a matter of course, Luna speaks to it casually.
“——It has been a while, Distil.”
“Y-you……are you the Saint, Luna……!?”
Distil raises its great scythe and fixes its hatred-filled gaze on her.
“Just in case——I thought I’d try asking. This time……could you perhaps look the other way? Ro is a very dear friend of mine, and——”
“——That I cannot do! I am the death god, the adjudicator who enacts the providence of death! I permit no exceptions whatsoever!”
“Hahhh……three hundred years and that stubbornness hasn’t changed at all……”
Luna’s shoulders drop with a thud, and she sighs with genuine disappointment.
“The divine is unchanging, and the unchanging is providence! You, who defy providence——die!”
Distil moves without warning and swings the great scythe on the spot, striking first.
In the next instant——Luna’s small body is blasted backward at tremendous speed, slamming into the wall of the great lecture hall as a great cloud of dust billows up.
What struck her was a ‘divine attack’ that ignores every obstacle of distance, angle, and timing.
Unpredictable, unavoidable, unblockable——one hundred slashing strikes transcending the laws of physics have carved the Saint’s entire body to shreds.
Under normal circumstances, anyone who takes this attack is immediately annihilated, without exception.
However——
“……”
The death god narrows the crimson flames burning in its eye sockets and holds its heavy stance without releasing it.
It knows.
It has learned from nine accumulated defeats.
That that Saint——that monster——does not die from an attack of this level.
“——Still a curious attack, as always.”
From inside the billowing dust cloud, an unharmed Luna comes shooting out at explosive speed.
“Kgh, don’t come near me……!”
It swings the great scythe again and unleashes the divine attack, ignoring every obstacle.
But——it does not land.
The slashing strikes veer off to Luna’s left and right, as though deflecting of their own accord.
“What!?”
“I’m quite used to this by now, I’m afraid.”
Luna had struck down every last slash the moment it touched her body using god-speed knife-hands.
And having closed the distance to zero with seeming ease——she throws a casual right straight as a greeting, and Distil catches it on the left arm.
“Ngh, kugh, nnnngaaaaaaaaaaaahhh……!”
Not just the guarding left arm——the entire left half of the body that absorbed the impact is pulverized to fragments.
The death god, having sustained catastrophic damage in a single hit, retreats far backward through subspace.
“Hahhh, hahhh……nnngh!”
In answer to a powerful roar, the shattered left half of the body regenerates instantly.
The regenerative power of a ‘god’ transcends every race——humans, demons, beastmen, spirits, all of them.
“Hmm……could you be a little stronger than before?”
By her reckoning, that single strike should have finished off the death god as it was three hundred years ago.
Luna poses the question with mild surprise.
“Fuha ha! Before the providence of death, grovel and——”
“——Then I’ll make it one hundred times.”
As the Saint extends her right hand——
“<Silver Bloom——Sacred Burst——>“
——a small silver-white cross rises and floats before Distil’s eyes.
“This……is……!”
A thunderous roar pierces heaven and earth, and a violent ‘white’ fills the entire world.
Bone, scythe, bell——as holy flames of conflagration scorch all things——
“……Fuhaha, fuahahahahahahahahaha……!”
The death god’s eerie laughter booms out.
“I endured it——I endured it all——I withstood it……!”
Ninety percent of the body has perished——yet Distil is alive.
It has endured the Saint’s magic. Has withstood <Silver Bloom> in one strike.
And——with the regenerative power of a god, it achieves complete restoration in a single instant.
“Three hundred years ago, I was burned to death again and again——and I have conquered the Saint’s magic, <Silver Bloom>! I have seized it now! Saint Luna——I have seized hold of the depths of you!”
In Distil’s exultant hand, the great scythe that reaps life manifests once more——and ‘divine magic’ is woven again.
“<Primal Gospel>!”
A great bell appears behind Distil, and a solemn resonance rings out.
Luna’s great magic <Silver Bloom: Sacred Burst> had destroyed the bell once, resetting the ‘countdown to annihilation’ back to zero——but a smile of victory is rising on the death god’s face.
The regenerative power of a god stands at the apex of every race.
If this war of attrition simply continues, the absolute difference in their races will eventually bring victory to the divine——it is convinced of this.
However——there was one ‘miscalculation’ here.
“You certainly are harder than before.”
“Fuha ha! Prostrate yourself before the providence of death——”
“——Then I’ll make it ‘one hundred times.'”
As the Saint extends her right hand——
“<Silver Bloom——Funeral Burst——>“
——one hundred crosses imbued with holy light fill the great lecture hall to every corner.
“……Impossible……!”
The scythe of death slips from Distil’s hands.
Overwhelming firepower through brute force, suppression through sheer volume, forcing the unreasonable through——this is precisely the battle strategy the Saint is most comfortable with.
“W-wait——”
“——I won’t.”
The moment Luna snaps her fingers, a roar splits the ears, and all things everywhere are purified.
After the holy white flames die away, Distil’s skull lies rolling in the desolate remains of the great lecture hall.
Whether its regenerative limit has been exceeded, recovery is crawling and barely progressing.
The feeble flame burning in the eye sockets glares at Luna with resentful eyes.
“……Why. Why……can I not win……. Through nine resurrections I have grown stronger. I should be enhanced to a degree incomparable with how I was originally! And yet——the gap won’t close. The difference between us is, if anything, only widening……!”
The death god trembles with humiliation.
A god (Distil) prostrate on the ground. A human (Luna) looking down at it.
At this point, it is unclear which of them is the ‘death god.’
“Answer me, Saint Luna! Why——why are you this strong!?”
“……I wonder……?”
Luna tilts her head with a small puzzled look——and the death god Distil meets its tenth defeat.