Was there any sadness or anger in that sword?

Blood splattered, dyeing the summer jungle red, bleak and desolate like autumn maple leaves.

The trees that had been bursting with life were now corroded by elemental mana after the battle. They drooped, withering, like a forest on the verge of shedding its leaves in late autumn.

As Stini drove Galewind straight into the chest of the last Bloodsucking Banshee, she was thinking about that question.

Probably… not, she decided. Just like them.

She stared into the creature’s ugly eyes. What filled them was pure brutality, pure bloodlust, pure evil. A simple, untainted malice, nothing more.

But there was no real emotion in it. Everything about it was conjured out of nothing, like an artificially fabricated impulse. It wasn’t born from any specific person or reason. That malice was aimed at the entire world, the entire universe, from the Divine Kingdom above down to itself.

It was obsessed with destroying the world, even turning its own existence into nothing. Terrifying, yet in a way… strangely relatable.

“Damn it, a spawn of the Ocean of Darkness, huh…”

Stini bared her teeth. One of her cute little tiger fangs had been knocked off in the fierce fight just now. That had been really dangerous—her head had almost gone flying.

If it were Andor, he’d probably say something like, “The Headless Hero Chronicles.” She had no idea what that meant. If she made it out alive this time, she’d cling to him and make him explain it properly.

For now, she still had a lot to do.

She turned around—and almost bumped into the mage who’d been recklessly sprinting up the hill.

“S‑sorry, I was just looking for you, so…”

“It’s fine. I was just thinking about my future husband too. Griff, tell me—if I suddenly think of him at a time like this, when it’s life or death, does that mean I’ve fallen in love with him?”

“Is that really important right now? What matters is that the citizens in the city broke out together with us. Noble students have a duty to protect the commoners, and ordinary students study on the city’s tax money, so they’re obligated to protect them too. We should put the lives of the weak first, and worry about romance later!”

“Don’t be so tense. We’re already twenty kilometers away from the City of Heroes. We’ve escaped the Demon King Army’s pre‑set ambush. We can relax a little and talk, can’t we? So—pursuing love just for the sake of ‘falling in love,’ is that normal behavior?”

“No!” The mage waved his arms anxiously. “If there are Demonfolk who can use teleportation or spatial magic, the citizens are still in danger.”

“Teleportation magic depends on boundaries of space, not raw distance. If there really is a Demonfolk who can use high‑level spatial magic to teleport an army, then we’d have to fight no matter where we run.”

“But still…”

“Even if the enemy has teleportation mages, stopping the spell is your job. The other fighters can at least rest, right?”

Stini spread her hands, her expression helpless.

“Fighting isn’t exactly easy work.”

“You do have a point. But I still think we should stay on guard. So Miss Stini, please rest. I’ll take the first watch.”

She gently massaged her tired, aching arms—and accidentally pulled on the wound on her upper arm. The flare of pain made her grit her teeth again.

She grabbed the hem of the mage’s robe just as he was about to leave and asked:

“Hey, Griff, what do you think is the difference between us and those things?”

“Those things?”

The mage turned back unwillingly, frowning in confusion.

“Yeah, those banshees. Don’t you think they’re a little too pure?”

“Pure? They’re literally clumps of chaos. All they do is spread death and destruction. What part of that is ‘pure’?”

“No matter what their actions lead to, at their core they’re just pure malice. They don’t think about anything else. I’ve always believed we shouldn’t drag our personal feelings too much into how we judge others. Even if we’re sad or angry, we shouldn’t turn the enemy into complete monsters in our heads. We should try to think rationally.”

“But they killed so many people. Our friends, our families, the people we swore to protect. Don’t you feel angry? Don’t you want revenge?”

The mage ground his teeth. But Stini knew that anger wasn’t directed at her; it was aimed at the enemies who’d died and those who were still alive.

That was why she said “they” were pure, and humans were the chaotic ones. The thought made Stini sigh.

“I think letting your rage run wild, giving in to revenge and Slaughter—that’s actually a coward’s way out. Because if you do that, you don’t have to think too much, you don’t have to shoulder much. You just act on your feelings. But isn’t that exactly what Demonfolk do?”

Not thinking. Just dumping all your cruelty on the world.

“That’s not noble. It’s not justice either. Before you raise your hand, you should at least figure out what the other side is, and what they are to you.”

“They’re the enemy. That’s all I need to know.”

“Sure, they’re the enemy. But what kind of enemy? Are they an enemy who hates you because you killed their parents? Are they an enemy who loves Slaughter and stomps on everything you hold dear for no reason? Or an enemy who’s just following orders to kill?”

Stini drew Galewind and looked at the blood still wet on the blade.

“They were born in a place like the Ocean of Darkness, a place overflowing with malice. They were created to be evil from the start. Do you really think that’s their fault?”

“Well…”

“We humans are the Creator’s work. We’re born leaning toward good. If we use ourselves as the standard, if we judge by whether something is born good or evil, and divide beauty and ugliness by what free will can’t change… isn’t that too much? That way of thinking is chaotic in itself.”

“But they’re still the enemy.”

“Right. But ‘enemy’ doesn’t automatically equal ‘evil.’ That way of thinking is wrong.” Stini met the mage’s gaze. In his eyes she saw the flame of justice, the light of compassion—completely different from a banshee’s stare. The exact opposite. “They threaten the people I love, so I kill them. I kill them completely, with no mercy. I won’t pity them, just like they won’t pity humans. But I won’t hate them either. I didn’t do anything wrong. They didn’t do anything wrong. We both just did what we had to do.”

Just like Andor said: the war between light and darkness is meaningless. One side builds, the other destroys. It’s just a simple fact. A meaningless war whose only meaning is to destroy all meaning.

And that was as far as the conclusion went. Anything more would just get more biased. Stini didn’t have the philosophical training to keep going, so she left it at that.

She’d talk with Andor about it later. Maybe that pretentious guy could spin a few more layers on it.

The mage thought for a moment, then nodded solemnly.

“…I admit you’re right. So what’s wrong, then?”

“The world,” Stini said, then chuckled at herself.

Saying “the world is wrong” sounded way too arrogant. After all, no one but an all‑knowing, all‑powerful Divine Being could possibly understand the world in full. Criticizing something you’ve never really seen clearly—that was arrogant too.

But this wasn’t a fill‑in‑the‑blank exam. It was a multiple‑choice question you answered by elimination.

The only thing left to blame was “the world” as a whole.

Not that it mattered much—

“Even if the world is wrong, we can’t just jump to some other ‘correct’ world. So, Griff, do your best and live in this wrong world that’s still trying to fix itself and move toward something right.”

She finished and let out a voiceless laugh at herself.

“All right. I’ve rested enough. Time to move.”

“Go where? The citizens are exhausted. We can only set up camp here, unless we abandon the old and weak.”

“Hey, hey, I don’t want to abandon a single person.”

“That’s why we should defend this spot. In the city, we suffered because of infiltration and surprise attacks. This time, we just have to… wait, are you saying…”

The mage realized something and started to panic.

And messing with people like this was exactly the kind of bad habit she had. Stini smiled and pulled him into a hug.

“You’re not coming with me, are you?”

“You’re not serious, right? We already escaped. Why would you go back…”

“Yeah. I don’t want to abandon anyone. Not the citizens who broke out with us, not the classmates who fought by our side, and not the people who got captured protecting us.”

So I’m going back to save them.

Stini whispered it under her breath.

Then she turned and shouted toward the camp with all the strength in her lungs:

“Hey! Everyone! I’m going back to save the people who got captured! Who’s coming with me?”

The noisy camp fell silent at once. Everyone stared at the girl standing alone on the hilltop.

“No one?”

She shrugged, a little disappointed.

No one stayed back out of cowardice. They were just thinking that holding this position would save more lives.

Andor had said it before: everyone in the Silver Era had a great soul. Every person was a noble Hero. The common folk would use their own flesh and blood to block the Demon King Army so more people could live. There were only warriors who died on the battlefield, never armies that surrendered. The students had no proper training or coordination, but they’d still follow whoever saw furthest ahead, and no one tried to grab power in the chaos.

This was what she had seen: great people, and a great era.

Everyone was a Hero, highborn or lowborn, strong or weak. Each had their own justice they refused to abandon.

Though she didn’t really get all that “gold, silver, bronze” stuff…

“Well then, Griff, guess this is goodbye. Wish me luck surviving.”

This time it was the mage grabbing her armor. The sharp edge of the plate cut his hand, but he still didn’t let go.

“Stini, you can’t go.”

“Why not? I’m not forcing you guys to come with me, so don’t force me to stay.”

“You have the blood of a Hero. You’re a future Hero. You can’t die here. And you’re the strongest person we have right now. You should be protecting the people here.”

“Is that so?” Stini brushed her hair back and touched her ears—longer than a human’s, shorter than an elf’s.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m the future of the world, the key to protecting it, I haven’t reached my full potential yet so I absolutely must be kept safe—can you please not say it like that? I think it’s enough if you guys protect them. Besides, the Hero Academy still isn’t fully tainted by the Demon Realm’s mana. This is our only chance. If it gets completely corrupted, even my dad will struggle to break through.”

The mage tightened his grip on her armor, though he was still much weaker than a warrior. Stini noted that in the back of her mind.

“You know exactly how important you are. So why are you marching alone into the heart of the Demon King Castle? It took a whole team just to break out. If you go alone and get surrounded, you’re dead for sure. Worse, you might get captured and you… anyway, just don’t go. You could save way more people if you stayed!”

“Huh? ‘Could’? ‘Someday’? You want me to ignore people in danger right now for some vague responsibility in the future? I can’t do that. I only went this far to keep the citizens safe. If it were just a small elite squad, it’d be no problem.”

“Even if you manage to fight your way in, how can you be sure they’re still alive?”

“I can’t.”

“Then why…”

“I might fight with everything I’ve got only to find their mangled corpses. But if I don’t go, then they really are dead for sure. I’m ready for the chance of coming back with nothing. I’m ready to face that grief. I’m ready to die. So let go, Griff—unless you’re coming with me.”

The mage’s hand slowly relaxed, though it didn’t pull away.

“Stini, there’s one thing you were a little wrong about.”

“Oh?”

“You said ‘everyone clings to justice.’ I want to add something: ‘It’s just that everyone’s justice is different.’”

“That’s true. It’s an unavoidable, helpless kind of conflict.”

“Whatever happens, you have to come back alive, Stini.”

“Don’t worry.”

She looked back and gave him a gentle, reassuring smile.

“There’s also that absurdly strong, pretentious guy with a cold face and a soft heart. There’s no way he’d pass up a chance to ‘storm the Demon King Castle to rescue people’ and look cool doing it.”

With that, Stini waved and ran quickly back the way they’d come.

She didn’t actually feel as upbeat as she sounded. She doubted, she was afraid, she was anxious.

In the end, a Hero was still human. The only difference was that even in despair, a Hero would still choose to be strong.

However, the real trouble was—

Stini frowned slightly and pressed a hand to her chest. There,

new wounds and old aches all throbbed dully.