The late spring breeze blows.

Near the stream in the lowlands formed by the melting glacier of Mount Elteo. The fields of greenery were dotted with various wildflowers, each blooming proudly in its own shape and color.

Among them, one flower stood out, strangely growing alone without joining the cluster.

It was a delicate and intricate silver ornament, resembling a bell that would ring with a clear chime if touched. The silver petals and turquoise stamens gently swayed in the warm breeze.

It was a beautiful and peaceful scene, like a watercolor landscape.

✠ About a year and a half had passed since the final apocalyptic war, Armageddon.

Thanks to the combined efforts of the four nations, much of the damage sustained by the Serenetra continent had been repaired.

The nations rebuilt collapsed buildings and infrastructure, holding funerals for the victims. People began to return to their daily lives, reclaiming the peace they had lost.

Of course, the absence of the dearly departed could not be easily filled. To comfort the still grieving families, memorial stones were erected in various places across Serenetra.

The obelisks, tall enough to touch the sky, would gather prayers for the souls of the deceased and offer them to Serenetra’s main god, the ‘Word of Creation’ who constructed the world.

Meanwhile, around the time the continent-wide “memorial stone construction project” was nearing completion, another kind of memorial was being built, though much later.

The location was the ruined Holy Office. An obelisk was erected there, bearing the names of two individuals who had brought peace to this world and then disappeared.

Ayleth Rodeline and Tesilid Arzent.

The monument was called the “Hero Memorial Stone.”

“Seems like it’s finally being built.”

“Well, a year and a half is quite a long wait, wouldn’t you say?”

Lex Easter, wearing the robe of the Church of the Word, and Cattleya Gillette, also in the vestments of the Church’s cardinal, exchanged words while gazing up at the tall obelisk.

After converting to the Church of the Word, they had joined Saint Agnes’s Church, and now, they had been dispatched on a diplomatic mission to the Elfenheim Church state.

“It’s surprising that the Order Church even gave up the land. When they declared the extermination order calling us heretics, who would have thought they’d give this up?”

“They were weakened, so there was no other choice. The Order Church isn’t what it used to be.”

The area around them was bustling with construction.

The Holy Office, once a center for sacred art, was now laying a new foundation. It was planned to become a smaller administrative office and public square.

Rebuilding the Holy Office to its former size was essentially impossible.

After the Doom’s Day, the church state had begun its decline, and the excommunication order from the Holy Bible only accelerated the loss of faith among the people.

Furthermore, following Armageddon, the church’s leadership fell into further disarray.

Saint Muriel Philyze, ranked as the 8th saint, had persecuted the hero Ayleth Rodeline, issuing the excommunication order. Yet, after Armageddon, she vanished, retreating into hiding. It was a disappointing turn of events.

But that wasn’t all. The leader of the Order Church, Pope Benedict Delloerd, made matters worse.

She had actively collaborated with evil forces, revealed through survivors of the “Abignisis Massacre.” This was a shocking discovery.

More critically, the sacred powers of the priests who served the Order Church began to rapidly decline.

The priests started converting to the Church of the Word, and citizens lost trust in the church state, crossing over to neighboring nations.

It was clear to everyone that the Order Church had no future.

Given this situation, the enormous costs required for the church’s reform and the rebuilding of the Holy Office were impossible to cover.

At this rate, the Elfenheim Church state would slowly fracture and be absorbed into the borders of neighboring countries.

The name of the Order Church would be lucky to survive in the fringes.

“Honestly, the Church of the Word isn’t in the best shape either. Two of its major pillars have disappeared, and the absence of the pope continues...”

“Yeah...”

“I’ll need to convince Cardinal Hilde to do something about this. After all, the living make the world.”

At Cattleya’s last words, Lex, looking up at the Hero Memorial Stone, couldn’t help but feel a lump in his throat.

The living.

And on the opposite side of that were the dead.

Now, as they gazed upon the massive monument, they could not help but think of its significance.

A monument was, by nature, for the dead.

Tesilid Arzent and Ayleth Rodeline, who had disappeared to stop Armageddon.

No matter how much they waited, they wouldn’t return.

And now, a year and a half later, the memorial stone was built, confirming their deaths.

This peaceful world felt like their immense legacy.

“Still...” 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

Lex clenched his fist and spoke.

“I believe they will return.”

“Sir Lex...”

“You’re talking about none other than the Sacred King, right? They couldn’t have left us so easily. I’m certain they’ll return, bringing Sir Tesilid with them. That’s what I believe.”

His trust, as {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} firm as his sturdy nature, was unshakable.

Cattleya, her single eye reflecting the wisdom of time, gazed softly at him.

A moment later, the cold elderly woman rarely smiled.

“That sounds good. Actually, I feel the same.”

“Your Eminence...”

“Don’t cry. Stop it.”

“Yes, stop.”

They clung to hope. And that hope was not theirs alone.

✠ In the capital of the Ragneip Mage Republic, Gehenid.

The mage district, which had suffered great damage, had fully recovered and was now much more refined than before.

The Tower of the Black Magic had been restored and expanded, towering even higher than before as it loomed over the city.

The ruined city blocks were replaced with newly constructed buildings.

Among them, a two-story dessert café with a pink roof, resembling a fairy tale candy house, stood slightly away from the city center.

A popular date spot for lovers, it was bright, fresh, and undeniably cute.

However, there was a secret here. Beneath the café was a rather dark facility hidden from view.

Srring... swish...

A figure, sharpening a blade with yellow eyes gleaming, was working.

“Perfect.”

Flegel Night, the master of the Night Eagle Guild, looked proudly at the dessert knife designed for decoration.

Though the guild had suffered hardship due to the false accusation of the death of the tower master, they had returned to their homeland and resumed business after the new tower master took office.

However, the old headquarters had been exposed to the public, and they had no choice but to find a new base.

Thus, it was decided that the guild would operate under the guise of a dessert shop on the ground floor.

But the business was so unexpectedly successful that the additional profit was quite substantial.

Still, their primary business was assassination. While the middle-aged guild master sharpened his knife, waiting for customers, the door suddenly burst open, and a young man with sky-blue hair and a leather choker around his neck entered.

“Flegel! Flegel!”

“Please knock, Lord Moriphis.”

“Oh! You’re not wearing a mask! You really are handsome, Flegel.”

“Thank you. But I think it’s about time you stop calling me ‘Sir’ like I’m some kid. I’m over forty, you know?”

“Forty, and what’s wrong with that! You’re still in your prime!”

Flegel gave up on rebutting. What could he expect from someone who was over two hundred years old?

“...Well then. But what brings you here, Master of the Tower? Surely, it’s not an assassination request?”

Flegel was sure of his last statement.

Moriphis Marcelion was more likely to be the target of an assassination than the client.

In fact, after he took the position of tower master, he hadn’t done anything but cause trouble. Rumors circulated among the overworked elders of the tower that they were investigating the Night Eagle Guild’s whereabouts.

But Moriphis seemed completely indifferent to such matters and cheerfully exclaimed:

“I’ve come to share an amazing theory I came up with, Flegel!”

“Seems like the other mages didn’t listen to you.”

“They all pretended to be busy, the ungrateful bunch!”

“They really are busy, though. After Armageddon, the mage population dropped dramatically. With the aftermath to deal with and being drafted into dungeon hunts, I doubt they have any time left.”

Having defeated the three Demon Kings and permanently sealed the Chaos Demon God, the war with the demon realm was over.

Naturally, the dungeons that acted as a bridgehead for the war should have disappeared.

In the timelines where Tesilid had succeeded in saving the world alone, the dungeons had vanished.

However, the timeline with Ayleth Rodeline was different.

The dungeons didn’t vanish, instead blending with humanity, coexisting with them.

As a result, bursts and syncs were still happening regionally, and hunting operations continued across the Serenetra continent.

The good news was that the overall danger level of the dungeons had decreased, with only B-class and lower remaining.

Previously, dungeon bursts would escalate, with effects starting at S-class, but after the victory in Armageddon, such effects had disappeared.

A B-class dungeon burst now stayed at B-class.

Thanks to that, what was once a terrifying catastrophe had come to be seen as more of a disaster than a true calamity.

On the other hand, the continued existence of dungeons meant that the valuable resources produced within them could still be used.

As they continued to hunt and claim the dungeons, the day would come when the threat of dungeon disasters would be gone.

Overall, the benefit to humanity far outweighed the losses.

This was an exceptional phenomenon unique to this timeline.

Most people had no idea of this exception and accepted it as just the way things were. But some, like Moriphis Marcelion, saw the error in the phenomenon from the perspective of theologians and world scholars.

“The hunt is irrelevant! I’ve come up with an incredible hypothesis about the fusion of dungeons and humanity!”

“Oh, I see.”

“Don’t you want to know? I bet you do. Say it—aren’t you curious?”

“...I’m curious.”

“I knew it! Listen closely. The fusion of dungeons is not a termination but a truce. The war with the demon realm is not over!”

“Hm...”

It was a remark that denied the hard-earned peace.

Flegel narrowed his eyes, suspecting that the madman was just spouting nonsense to deceive him.

“Are you saying that the Chaos Demon God is awakening again?”

“No, not that!”

“Then you mean a new Demon King is rising?”

“No, no! Oh, how frustrating!”

Moriphis gave Flegel a look as if he were a failing student and continued.

“Didn’t someone already inherit the Demon King’s power after killing Infernos? That person is the medium, and the demon realm has not disappeared but is parasitizing humanity!”

“...”

This time, Flegel immediately understood what Moriphis was implying.

The person who inherited the Demon King’s power after killing Infernos.

It was none other than the Sacred King, Ayleth Rodeline.

“You mean...”

“Exactly! The pink Sacred King is most likely still alive! Now, I can finally take off this dog collar!”

As Moriphis rejoiced, Flegel took a deep breath.

The Sacred King was alive.

Even as the master of an assassin guild, he had a deep respect for the world’s heroes.

As an Aura Master, he held a special reverence for her.

With hope rising, Flegel softened his tone and spoke to Moriphis.

“If it’s true, I really hope she returns. Both the Sacred King and the Sword’s Master.”

“Huh? We don’t need the Sword’s Master...”

There was no use continuing the conversation further.

Flegel resumed sharpening his knife.