“Teacher—”
“What did you do to Sister Ash!?”
In a daze, Ron’s shout reached Lifa, who had just fallen asleep and jolted awake from her light slumber.
She hurried out of the tent, only to find Isis collapsed in Ron’s arms, with her teacher’s hands resting on the shoulders of the friend’s scattered white hair.
“Lifa, let me explain…”
The positioning between the two was indeed strange and ambiguous, but Ron had no time to worry about Lifa’s reaction. His mind was focused on Isis’s sudden unconsciousness.
“Sister Ash!”
Lifa also noticed Isis’s abnormal state. She rushed to Ron’s side, her attention quickly shifting from her teacher’s odd behavior to Isis.
“Teacher, what happened to Sister Ash? Wasn’t she fine when we swapped shifts?”
Lifa was eager to do something, but finding herself helpless, anxiety and panic filled her expression.
“You could say it’s the demon curse on her acting up.”
Ron signaled Lifa to sit down. He supported Isis’s waist with his arm and laid her down in a princess-carry–like position, letting her head rest on Lifa’s thigh.
“Demon curse!?”
Lifa recalled her first meeting with Isis and gasped.
“Yeah. If it’s like last time… she’ll wake up soon.”
Ron’s lowered eyes reflected the firelight. Though he said this aloud to Lifa, he felt that Isis’s sudden unconsciousness this time was completely different from before.
And beyond the immediate worry and helplessness, he now feared one thing more: if Isis couldn’t hold on, then when she woke again, the two of them would have to face that cruel, unreasonable “Demon King” Hero once more.
“Th-then that’s good.”
Lifa reached out to wipe the sweat from Isis’s forehead. In this position, she could clearly feel Isis’s steady breathing, which helped calm her down a little.
Waiting was the most agonizing stretch of time.
Not only was there no sign of Isis waking, but beyond the camp, a pair of vertical eyes in the bushes was watching them.
‘What should I do?’
Ron stared at Isis’s tense face even in unconsciousness. After a while, he seemed to hallucinate that Isis opened her eyes for a moment and met his gaze.
“Lifa! Look…”
Ron looked up and called out, but when he lowered his head again, Isis seemed unchanged, and his voice trailed off.
“Teacher, what’s wrong?”
Lifa’s brow was furrowed in confusion, but Ron’s sudden shout stirred her own barely contained anxiety.
“It feels like a long time has passed… What should we do?”
The girl’s emerald eyes blinked repeatedly. Maybe that helped her think, because she remembered something.
“Oh, that’s right… Sister Ash left us a dagger. Should we use it now?”
“That’s it!”
Lifa grew excited, but she sensed something off about Ron—he seemed half-asleep, hazy. Strange as it was, she raised her voice, swiped her hand across her storage pendant, and held out a strangely shaped dagger to Ron.
Ron seemed to freeze for a moment. He shook his head forcefully to clear his mind, then turned stiffly and mechanically toward Lifa. Instead of taking the dagger, he reached out to undo Isis’s cloak.
“Teacher—”
“Wh-what are you doing!”
Lifa stared at her teacher in disbelief. Ron silently rolled up the wide sleeves of the cloak as well.
“I’m fine.”
Ron rubbed his temples. He had indeed felt a sudden dizziness, but he didn’t think much of it, chalking it up to his ordinary physique and the depletion of mana and mental energy.
“Ah—”
Ron pulled the cloak down to Isis’s waist. Lifa’s initial angry questions instantly turned to heartache.
Isis still wore a light, fitted dress underneath, but Ron and Lifa could see that every exposed inch of skin on her arms and shoulders was marred with wounds—hardly a single intact spot.
“So that’s why…”
Ron muttered to himself.
Unlike Lifa, who could only see that Isis was far stronger than her, Ron had noticed signs of the Hero’s weakness from her behavior all along.
He had long suspected that Isis was harming herself to maintain her mental state, and now the answer was painfully clear.
“Teacher, why aren’t you saying anything…”
Lifa’s voice was very low, afraid to disturb Ron.
“Lifa, this dagger…”
Ron’s finger stopped at the latest wound on Isis’s shoulder, but most of the others were also clearly recent.
Isis had been using the dagger’s properties—relying on pain to suppress the Demon King’s remnant soul—with increasing frequency.
Even without a detailed analysis of the dagger’s inscribed attributes, Ron understood one thing: a Gold-grade weapon, no matter how special or powerful, could never be used without cost.
First, Isis’s incredible regenerative abilities as a Hero couldn’t heal these wounds. Second, this method was like drinking poison to quench thirst—it consumed her body and strength in the struggle.
“Give it to me.”
Ron had initially meant to tell Lifa to put it away, that Isis’s body could no longer bear such a method. But when his eyes met the gleaming blade of the dagger, the words that came out changed.
‘Even with the origin crystal, Isis won’t last much longer…’
‘She won’t make it until Lifa and I return…’
One cruel thought after another surfaced in his mind. Ron could even vaguely hear his own voice whispering in his ear.
All along, Isis had hidden the state of her body. That was why Ron had made an optimistic estimate and made that promise with her not long ago.
But now it seemed it had always been like this, even in previous save files.
Perhaps his exposed identity had only accelerated and altered the outcome. Even if nothing had happened, Isis would still have been fated to merge her soul with Casalima and fall into becoming the Demon King.
“Teacher… Sister Ash must be in a lot of pain…”
Lifa handed the dagger to Ron and looked down at those unbearable wounds.
“Yeah.”
Ron gripped the dagger in reverse. He examined it more closely. The spell engraved on this weapon was an extremely rare mental type, attached with a sacrificial secret art that could exchange flesh and strength for mental energy.
‘Now is an opportunity.’
Ron lowered his gaze, stopping at the left side of Isis’s chest.
‘An opportunity to solve everything once and for all.’
Ron’s gaze shifted to the hero’s sword hanging at Isis’s waist. He knew the true nature of that weapon. Since Lifa had been called by it, it meant she also had the potential to pass the trial and become a Hero…
He tightened his grip on the dagger.
“Teacher, is there still a problem?”
Lifa saw Ron hesitate and kept pressing, but received no answer.
As time passed, the most pragmatic, most selfish, yet most feasible and tempting answer quietly appeared, took root, and was guided until it nearly consumed Ron’s entire mind.
‘Without the chance to save-load, I don’t need to be afraid anymore. Letting the uncontrollable and dangerous Isis go—she must want this too, right?’
‘I can also get a Legend-grade weapon, have Lifa kill the guardian beast of the origin crystal, and finally return to the Royal Capital of Falosha with Rosalyn, loaded with rewards.’
‘There’s no better story direction than this!’
‘All I have to do is—’
‘Kill Isis.’
“Hee hee~”
In the mental world, Casali, sitting obediently beside Isis, showed a smile.