Hate me, Miss Witch!

According to Shiayar's estimate, even if he were put through a meat grinder, he could still recover from a pile of mashed flesh.

I don't know if my self-healing ability is only effective in this Echo of History or if it's just as useful in reality, he mused. However, if that's the case...

Shiayar's gaze turned towards the many plans laid out on the wooden table, and the robe beside it which, through the efforts of Silver and Crimson, had already taken shape.

"Some things," he murmured, "can be done with a bit more boldness."

「Upon the boundless grasslands.」

The sun set in the west, a blood-red sunset dyeing the entire sky.

CLANG—

The longsword resonated.

Isadella watched the squarely cut, neatly arranged stone plinth before her. Embedded in the stone plinth was a splendid longsword.

The Sword in the Stone.

It was also the mark of a king.

"Whosoever pulls out the sword embedded in the stone," a voice seemed to echo from the past, "shall be the new king of this land."

No one knew where this rumor started. But thanks to it, knights of repute from all over the territory came, harboring the ambition to be king and a sense of duty to revive Escarnia.

However, all of them eventually left in disappointment.

And now, Isadella had grasped the hilt of the Sword in the Stone.

No one believed that such a young knight was worthy of the Sword in the Stone's recognition; the onlookers had already dispersed. But unlike the other knights who approached the sword filled with trepidation, she was unusually calm about the outcome.

"How does it feel, this sensation of one decision leading to heaven or hell?"

"Your future fate—whether to live a life of mediocrity as an ordinary knight or to become the king who ends the chaos—will be decided the moment you draw the sword."

Just then, a vague, hazy voice, its details indistinct, sounded from behind her.

"A symbol of kingship?" Isadella chuckled lightly. "But why would a true king need to rely on an inanimate object to decide or choose for them? Gaining the recognition of the Sword in the Stone would certainly be good. But even without its approval, I will still walk this path to kingship."

A vast sea of clouds drifted across the distant sky.

The next moment, CLANG—

The sword was drawn from the stone. The light of the setting sun fell upon its blade, reflecting colors like lustrous glass.

BOOM—

At that moment, a tremendous roar echoed from the distance. It was followed by the cries of refugees and a faint, pervasive stench of corruption. Isadella looked around and quickly assessed the situation. An Abyss Demon tide. The Abyss Demons that roamed the entirety of Escarnia had, for some unknown reason, gathered into multiple hordes and swarmed to this location.

Originally, because of the Sword in the Stone and the prophecy of the king's selection, many famed Great Knights had gathered here. Anyone qualified to be called a Great Knight was at least a 4-Ring Great Beastmaster, and there was no lack of 5-Ring and even 6-Ring Titled Rank experts among them.

However, none of these Great Knights dared to face the incoming demon tide.

That was a true sea of demons.

Although most High Order Abyssal creatures were, in reality, in the Royal City where the Despicable King Vortigern resided, this sea of demons still contained many 4th and 5th Order Abyssal beings. Even Titled Rank experts, if trapped within, isolated and without support—their only fate would be to have their stamina slowly depleted until they were ultimately engulfed by the sea of demons. Moreover, once wounded by Abyssal creatures, it was necessary to cleanse the wounds with Holy Water from the Holy See, or else one would be plagued by curses from the Abyss.

Thus, the vast majority of Great Knights chose to flee. After all, they only needed to run faster than the refugees.

The silver-haired girl, dressed as a young man, gripped the sword's hilt. As a Princess who had undergone the most stringent Royal Family education since childhood, she knew acutely that in these chaotic times, to walk the path of kingship, one must raise their own banner and win the hearts of the people.

And now, the approaching tide of demons presented the best opportunity for her to establish her reputation as the Knight King.

Isadella realized that in this unique space-time, her spiritual power, which was nearing Throne Level, had been largely sealed by the Sacred Sword's vast mysterious power. She could only exert strength equivalent to the upper tiers of a 5-Ring practitioner, a level that matched her current physical capabilities. However, her original combat experience remained, and that was enough. Numerous real-life confrontations on the border with the Lost Kingdom, and even with the Abyss, had made her keenly aware: the formation of such a demon tide was invariably due to the emergence of an Abyssal creature leader. As long as that core was slain, the demon tide would collapse on its own.

However, just as Isadella prepared to make her move, her spiritual power acutely sensed that the person who had mysteriously spoken from behind her had vanished. When Isadella located their position again, she found they had already appeared atop the distant city wall.

In stark contrast to the refugees and knights fleeing the demon tide, that somewhat slender figure silently fell from the city wall. Like a leaf, it floated down into the midst of the countless fearsome Abyss Demons.

ROAR—

The fearsome Abyss Demons paused for a moment, stunned, then frenziedly moved to tear at the human flesh delivered to their doorstep.

But the next moment, BOOM—

The air twisted. A searing white light soared into the sky, accompanied by intense Magic Power fluctuations and a colossal detonation. The enormous Magic Power fluctuations dispersed the clouds above and even demolished a large part of the already damaged city wall. The Blast Wind kicked up dust and debris, obscuring everything from view.

In an instant, half the demons at the center of the tide, including their leading Demon Commander, were annihilated by the scorching heat and the impact of the explosive wave. The remaining demons on the periphery were lucky to survive, but even so, a hint of fear tinged their gazes towards the center of the explosion. Abyss Demons are indeed bloodthirsty and vicious by nature, but that does not mean they lack intelligence or fear death.

With the death of their leader, the previously orderly demon tide instantly broke apart, its remnants scattering in all directions, no longer besieging the city.

An explosive-type ability? Isadella's pupils constricted slightly. As a princess of a future Empire, she was, of course, familiar with such abilities; the trump card of the Princes' Alliance, the Gustav Cannon, was based on the same principle. She just hadn't expected someone to possess this ability in an era a thousand years past. Her initial assessment of the mysterious stranger's strength hadn't suggested he was overwhelmingly powerful, yet now, he had managed to unleash power comparable to a single shot from the Gustav Cannon. However—for such a wide-ranging super explosion, even with an escape ability like Teleport, it would likely be impossible to completely escape the blast radius.

Could he have... sacrificed himself to stop the demon tide and cover the civilians' evacuation? she wondered. To think such a person exists in this era. He not only mastered explosive technology far beyond this generation but also lacked the usual arrogance of powerful experts, instead possessing a heart for the common people and a commitment to righteousness.

A tinge of regret arose in Isadella's heart. Whether in reality or within the Echo of History, talented individuals were what she needed most. It's just a pity he's already dead.

This thought had barely surfaced when, the next moment, from the crater left by the explosion on the land now turned to white, scorched earth by the intense heat and impact, a figure in a pitch-black robe slowly walked out.

The smoke and dust dispersed little by little. Only then did Isadella manage to see his true appearance.

A tall, slender figure was enshrouded in a long black robe. On the black robe, red clouds were embroidered. He had black hair and wore a spiral-shaped white mask. The top of the mask bore a carved slash mark.

"Who are you?" Isadella asked, looking at the figure emerging from the explosion's haze.

"My name—is Cain," the vague, hard-to-discern voice sounded again. As if sensing through the mask's openings that Isadella was scrutinizing his black, red-clouded robe, the voice continued, "From—Daybreak."