634,

"Let's do one more surgery."

That was the command she gave—and the meaning behind the swing of the world's greatest swordswoman, Sophiel.

Cyclone glanced at the people beside her: Onigashima and the maid who wanted to use her own body to revive the Grand Chancellor.

The injured person was obvious. It was the maid, being supported by Onigashima.

The center of her abdomen had been dyed red with blood, making the neatly black-and-white butler's uniform look utterly wretched.

"No! If we stay here any longer?!"

Hilmirya wanted to shout, but Cyclone raised his right hand, signaling that she didn't need to say anything more.

"Saving her isn't a problem, but she'll still die halfway through the surgery."

"You can't save her?"

Sophiel showed no concern whatsoever. She simply asked coldly.

"No, I can save her. But there's a group coming to kill me, and I believe they'll be here soon."

Cyclone calmly explained the situation as well.

The hints, both overt and subtle, were obvious enough. Sophiel wasn't stupid, and she understood Cyclone's intentions the moment she heard him.

"Looks like there are quite a lot of people who want you dead~"

The tip of the rapier brushed past Cyclone's neck, and a thin line of blood slowly appeared.

"There are quite a few who want me to stay alive, too."

Cyclone shot back.

"Is that so... Fine. I'll help you this time."

Sheathing her rapier, Onigashima placed the maid beside Cyclone.

"I'm counting on you, bro!"

Cyclone nodded once at Onigashima.

Sophiel and Onigashima left together, heading in Yuna's direction.

With their current fighting strength, Cyclone felt they should be able to buy quite a bit of time.

But no matter what, another injured person had now appeared before him.

Fate was like a farce, toying with people for its own amusement. The woman who had wanted to kill him that day was now someone Cyclone had to save.

With a helpless smile, Cyclone began to understand the daily reality of being a doctor.

Perhaps this was faith—the determination to stick to the path one had chosen.

Back when he was still Allen's hero, Cyclone had never felt anything like this.

Saving every life with his own hands, truly bringing them back from the brink himself, was far more interesting than playing the cool hero.

The maid's injuries weren't unusual. They were severe, but Cyclone was confident he could save her.

Meanwhile, the City of Dusk's assassin corps had already rushed back.

Yuna, Eileen, and Little Dragon were locked in a tug-of-war with the King of Dusk while drawing the enemy toward the direction where Cyclone wasn't.

But the cunning King of Dusk had seen through the truth long ago.

If he kept chasing the witch like this, he'd never reach the man who had stolen his little sister away.

Since the other side had turned back to stall for time, it meant that Cyclone Theodore had made his choice as well.

He had stayed behind and was performing emergency surgery on the identified target.

But considering how cautious that man was, his little sister might well flee separately first.

So the King of Dusk used magic to transmit his voice over a thousand miles through the deserted city.

"Hahahaha!!! I still can't catch you!! My dear little sister!"

With a loud shout, the King of Dusk stood atop a certain building.

He observed his surroundings while keeping track of the amount of magic being released in every direction.

In a chaotic metropolis, he couldn't lock onto every jumbled point. But with words, he might be able to break this deadlock.

After waiting for a while, no one responded.

That was only natural.

Cyclone was an expert when it came to words, too. He wouldn't fall for a trick like this.

Elyse couldn't possibly have been caught. That remark had merely been a little ploy to draw his attention.

But the King of Dusk's next sentence was the real strike.

Just like Cyclone, the King of Dusk took a gamble. Based on his own assumption, he spoke the following words.

"Look!! Cyclone Theodore! Aren't you still going to come out and face me?!"

Cyclone had completed the surgery in the church, yet he heard the news that he had gone to confront the King of Dusk head-on.

In that instant, Cyclone finally understood.

The first sentence just now hadn't been meant for him.

A single statement, a double-edged blade—both sides had landed a direct hit.

The King of Dusk's target was his little sister, the Princess of Dusk.