A crimson light descended upon the area. What was bound to come had finally arrived.
The radiance faded, revealing an old man with fiery red hair and beard. He gripped a broad, heavy sword.
"Thirty-ninth in the Crown Order, the Blazing Iron Cavalry, Galia Campbell. As I expected, it is indeed you," Archibald’s expression turned unusually serious.
"Who are you?" Garia demanded warily. He spotted Rosalynd lying unconscious nearby, his eyes narrowing. He strode forward but was blocked.
Archibald appeared before him. Three blue rings floated midair, vibrating slightly.
Garia froze for a moment at their muffled thud. Crimson sword light then roared around him. Archibald dodged, charged, and clashed fists with Garia.
The ground beneath them cracked, forming deep dents.
"Brat! Dare to block me? Seeking death?!" Garia snarled.
"Heh. Courage comes from motivation. Mine is endless—for the king, I’d dare anything. Killing you? No problem."
Just as planned, Galia Campbell was tied up by Archibald. Only one guard remained beside the Princess Royal. Chaos Cross’s insane scheme was unfolding.
Nearby mercenaries had all fled. I turned from the fight to Eunice. She looked pale, terribly weak.
"Just now… thank you," she whispered.
I realized silently: in half a day, she’d saved me three times.
"No thanks needed. I was saving myself. If you’re hurt, I suffer too." Eunice glanced at the fighters, then at me. "Tell me your name."
"Name…" I hesitated. My old name felt wrong here—too abrupt. After crossing over, my past vanished like smoke. Stabbed, then reborn…
Let that name disappear.
"I have no name."
"No name?" Eunice seemed curious but didn’t press.
"How should I call you?"
"Hmm…" I thought. "Talcaros? Since I drew the Demonic Sword, I’ll take its name."
Eunice slammed both hands on my shoulders, eyes blazing. "That… is… my… Demonic Sword! Thief! Don’t push your luck!"
I shuddered violently.
"...I won’t use that name, okay?"
She withdrew her hands, looking away. "Good."
"Why ask my name suddenly?"
"Not asking would be strange. We swapped bodies. Until we fix this, we stay together."
"Together… always?"
"What do you mean?" Eunice caught the implication. "You can’t leave. Until we switch back, you stay with me. Everywhere."
"Eating, sleeping, bathroom… even bathing? Always together?"
"Bathing?" Eunice froze like lightning-struck. Her face went blank, muttering faintly. "Bathing… what to do… how…"
I’d hit a problem she’d overlooked. Her mind nearly crashed.
She stared at me, shoulders trembling. "U-until absolutely necessary… skip bathing. Avoid dirt."
"But dust… isn’t that bad?"
"Silence! I said—absolutely necessary!"
"And if it is?"
Eunice stiffened. Her lips parted. She gazed at me with a broken, dazed look. "Then… I’ll bathe you!"
"What?!" I stumbled back, swallowing hard. "You pervert! How could you—"
"Why not? It’s my body! I’m bathing my own body!"
"No! Everything’s wrong!" Panic rose in me.
"Just blindfold your eyes."
"No!" I pleaded. "Think, Eunice. Imagine it… blindfold me… you reach out… undress me…"
"Stop!" She crouched, covering her ears, trembling. Breath ragged. Helpless. Then she looked up fiercely. "Switch back! We must switch back!"
"I want to. But how?"
She stood, calm again. "There’s a way. We’ll find it."
I nodded. "About bathing… you really shouldn’t—"
"Of course I will!" She glared. "Do you want to do it yourself?!"
"N-no…" Under her gaze, I felt weak. Trapped in her body, I couldn’t protest properly.
Eunice’s fingers shook. "No more talk. I’ll bathe you when needed."
I swallowed, looked away. Forced out one word: "...Okay."
Inside, I was torn.
A man, bathed by a girl in a man’s body… using my own form…
Just imagining it drove me mad.
To stay sane, I watched the distant fight.
During our talk, Galia Campbell sensed the trap. He swung his knight’s sword, forcing Archibald back. "Brat! Why pester me?! Not fighting seriously—bored?!"
Archibald smirked. "Heh. I’m no match for you. I won’t die for this."
Galia eyed him suspiciously. Neither moved. They stood locked in stalemate.
