Amidst the exploding waves of energy, Lumen kept shifting positions. It wasn’t merely to erase his presence. An opening. Lumen was meticulously observing the clone, searching for a fatal gap to land a perfect blow.

‘……There’s none.’

But no matter how hard he scouted the clone with eyes blazing, he couldn’t find a single weakness in the replicated body. There was no opportunity to land a life-taking strike.

That was also why Lumen had no choice but to sever the Demon King’s arm. Out of all parts of her body, the left arm had the highest likelihood of being cut. That, too, had only been possible because he had absorbed Kelligan’s energy.

Though he had succeeded in cutting off the Demon King’s arm, at the same time, Lumen came to a harsh realization. He could not kill the Demon King alone. If the sword had consumed his soul and will, perhaps it could have pierced the Demon King’s heart. But as long as he had chosen to wield the sword himself, that was impossible.

‘Even so, I can’t give up. I must defeat this clone for my resurrection to have any meaning.’

To be unable to help Cadel simply because he couldn’t take down a mere clone, not even the Demon King’s heart? He had been granted a precious opportunity; he couldn’t afford to be that weak.

‘I, and my sword, have split space-time.’

He had seized a power so great he could never have imagined it before. So even if the opponent was a flawless clone without a single weakness, there was still a chance of victory.

His blue eyes calmly swept across the corridor. His two allies were launching fierce attacks, blocking the clone from both front and back. Van, cloaked in aura, swung his greatsword with increasing power, while on the opposite side, Garuel pierced through the clone’s energy with a longsword infused with demonic energy and light.

The clone’s counterattack was a wide-range strike. Dense demonic energy darkened the ceiling like a thundercloud, then dropped in rain-like droplets. The falling demonic energy seemed harmless at a glance.

‘We must not get hit, not even once.’

The droplets of falling demonic energy pierced through the ground where they landed. Following the rain, a dense pattern of holes began to etch into the floor. Sensing danger, Garuel spread his demonic energy wings to shield Van’s head. But even those wings were torn to shreds by the demonic energy, which slashed through both men’s bodies.

Amidst the torrential downpour of demonic energy, wounds multiplied at a dizzying pace. Then, Modeleine’s area-wide healing spell was activated. Radiant light filled the corridor, and the holy energy wrapped around the bodies of their allies. The brilliant light gathered above the longsword planted into the floor and spread like roots across the ground.

Though less effective than Garuel’s healing, it was enough to prevent Van and Garuel from dying of shock. Everything had gone according to plan thus far. All that remained was to slip between Van and Garuel and slash through the clone’s core. The final blow rested solely on his shoulders.

‘……Cadel. I’ll become a knight you’re not ashamed of. That is my only wish.’

A clear light filled his deeply colored blue eyes. Clutching his scabbard, Lumen took a short breath.

* * *

“Sir Van! Please look closely! Do you recognize me?”

Garuel shouted urgently, having just sliced through a sharply protruding stream of demonic energy. His gaze was fixed on the opposite side of the clone—on Van’s grimacing face, locked in a clash of demonic sword and greatsword. At his shout, Van’s bloodshot eyes flickered slightly, and his lips, hidden under the aura, moved faintly.

“Stop making a racket. I’m still fine.”

“Ah…… Still, are you? Your expression was so murderous, you know. Haha, well, that’s true. You’ve always had that angry face—except when looking at Knight Commander.”

Whether he was trying to keep him grounded or drive him over the edge, Van clenched his teeth, barely suppressing the rage bubbling up. Garuel’s role was to press the clone together with him and be ready with close-range healing in emergencies. But he also served as a stabilizer to keep Van from losing his composure. Judging by his behavior, though, he wasn’t doing a good job of it.

‘That damn young master—is he still not ready?’

Taking the brunt of the Demon King’s attacks, Van’s condition was gradually deteriorating. Sure, the healing spells kicked in immediately to mend his wounds, but they couldn’t soothe his mounting mental strain. The ongoing psychological battle was a critical threat.

‘Can’t rush him either…… damn it.’

It wasn’t a foe they could finish off quickly, even if they wanted to. Caught in a daze that blinked on and off like a dying flame, Van desperately conjured Cadel’s face in his mind. He recalled his voice, his touch, his warmth, his laughter—the feel of his soft skin. Thankfully, it wasn’t a difficult task.

Cadel was the only reason he fought. If he lost, his life, built solely on his pure devotion, would bear the mark of failure. Enduring was easier than dying.

Fixating on the hazy image of Cadel—whether memory or delusion—Van infused his greatsword with a powerful surge of energy. And in the next instant—

“……!”

Lumen’s form appeared. He stood with his back turned to the clone’s left side. The fact that he had appeared meant he had already executed his sword-drawing technique. Whenever his sword, always drawn half a handspan, was sheathed, the body it had sliced would be cleanly severed before anyone could react. But this time was different. He hadn’t sheathed the blade.

“Sir Van, tell me…… you’re seeing this too, right? It’s not just me?”

Garuel’s startled gaze wasn’t directed to the clone’s left side, but to the right. And over there, standing with his back to the clone just like on the left, was another Lumen.

Two Lumens. Van, enduring the clone’s demonic energy, struggled to make sense of this absurd scene. One was already aggravating enough—and now there were two? He shook off the creeping sense of dread just in time to notice something strange: the new Lumen’s figure was oddly blurred.

It shimmered faintly like an illusion, but glowed just as brightly. That wasn’t Lumen—it was an afterimage. And the afterimage was continuing to move ever so slightly.

With each blink, its behavior changed subtly. The scabbard opened, closed, opened again, and shut once more. The position of the toes, the length of each stride, even the placement of his hair—all shifted within the same limited space, as Lumen repeated a single sword drawing technique over and over again.

Only four seconds. Van and Garuel had held the clone in place while staring at the two afterimages for a mere four seconds.

Slash.

A cross-pattern of long, intersecting flashes swept over the clone’s body. For a moment, the light was so intense it seemed to blind them. As Van managed to lift his eyelids again, what filled his vision was the clone’s flesh crumbling like shredded vegetables, all misaligned and collapsing in ruin. The flattened flesh slid apart, dissolving into black demonic energy.

It was quiet. Clean. The clone’s body had been dismantled with flawless precision. Van immediately realized that the overwhelming force pressing against him had completely vanished.

Beyond the disintegrating clone, Garuel’s open-mouthed face came into view. The two men’s gazes briefly met. Then, slowly turning his head, Van saw the real Lumen emerge from where the left afterimage had stood. Just as before, he calmly sheathed his sword in a straight posture.

But the arm holding the sword—his right—was trembling. Through the shredded remains of his uniform, a white arm could be seen streaked with glowing blue energy, pulsing under his pale skin like veins. It throbbed heavily, a sign that didn’t bode well. His stiffened arm quivered with small spasms.

Before either ally could comment on his condition, Lumen turned around and spoke first.

“One minute and twenty-three seconds. That’s how long it took to kill the clone. With swordsmanship like this, would you say I’m stronger than Yozen now?”

As if this pain was nothing to him, a mischievous smile played on the corner of his lips. Only then did Garuel tear his gaze away from Lumen’s arm, nodding in admiration.

“Hard to say. He’s insanely talented. You’ve probably reached a similar level, at least.”

Whether it was a joke or serious, Van let out a derisive snort as Lumen gave a dry laugh. Relaxing at last, Van sneered as he added his own jab.

“What’s this? Were you harboring a rivalry with Yozen all along? That’s surprisingly clingy for someone as refined as you.”

“Why? Upset that I don’t feel that way about you?”

“I haven’t dispersed my aura yet. Might want to hold back on pissing me off.”

“Now that you mention it, it’s been a while since we last sparred.”

As usual, Garuel casually slipped between the two as they began bickering the moment they had a chance, fascinated by their dynamic.

“Okay, save the bonding for later. Everyone, take a look at this. Modeleine, you too—come over here.”

“Apologies, Commander—no, Sir Garuel. My legs gave out. Just explain it loudly, please.”

“……Didn’t think you needed to outdo me in shamelessness.”

With a shrug, Garuel pointed toward the place where the clone had fallen. There, the demonic energy had transformed into a squirming, tar-like mass.

“Looks like it’s trying to slip out into the corridor. We managed to take down the clone, but that alone wasn’t enough to completely annihilate its energy. Looks like we’ll need a different approach.”

“A different approach…… I can’t think of a single one.”

“Try dicing it finer, pretty boy. Maybe it’s acting up because you cut it so half-assedly.”

The group tossed around ideas for how to deal with the small mass of demonic energy, but nothing seemed effective, and frustration began to mount.

“……Huh?”

That’s when something unexpected appeared beneath the demonic energy—a bright white magic circle, summoned by no one.