Cale slowly opened his eyes and spoke to the trembling Hitelis.

“You’ve figured out who I am by now, haven’t you?”

From the flow of the conversation, Hitelis had already more or less grasped his identity.

Cale Henituse.

The man who had already destroyed several hunter families and was currently interfering with what they were trying to do in one place after another.

...He appeared in the Demon World—

She had never imagined his reach would extend all the way here.

And more than that—

Far beyond anything I imagined.

What she had seen in bits of New World game footage was nothing. The pressure he gave off in person was overwhelming.

Ah—everything—

But that was not what was making her tremble now.

Everything was wrong.

Every assumption she and the Order of the God of Chaos had made was wrong.

A variable.

They had misjudged him from the start.

And those assumptions, those judgments—this entire situation had surely been something Cale Henituse himself had engineered.

We knew nothing.

They had known nothing, and now they had allowed the enemy to slip all the way beneath their feet.

The Pope. The highest-ranking holy knight.

Even now, they were only on guard against the Transparent Blood Wanderers and the Demon King’s side.

They did not know who their real enemies were.

Ah—

Despair wrapped itself around her.

When she could not say a word and only her lips trembled, Cale murmured softly to her.

“I want to get to where the Pope is as quietly as possible. No, I need to. I’d like you to guide me there.”

His tone had become gentler than before.

But Hitelis realized the force crushing down on her was growing stronger.

Clack. Clack, clack—

Her teeth knocked together in fear.

Because now that her eyes were open, she could see what was around her.

“If even a slightly noisy situation comes up on the way there, you’ll bear every bit of the result.”

Cale’s voice was mild.

But his aura was violent.

“The God of Chaos isn’t by your side. But I—”

Cale tightened his grip on the back of Hitelis’s neck.

“I’d like you to remember that I’m right behind you.”

Hitelis felt with perfect clarity that she could die at any moment.

“That’s advice for your own good.”

From the presence settled at her back—

“There are quite a few people here who want you dead.”

And from the eyes of those looking down at her—

Hitelis felt just as clearly that this place was a killing ground.

“Get up.”

Cale watched Hitelis stagger to her feet, then casually gathered up the shattered pieces of the divine relic that had bounced off the wall and stuffed them into his spatial pouch.

—Sniff, sniff! Just throw that away!

Still, you never knew.

Pretending not to hear the Sound of the Wind, Cale gave Hitelis an order.

“Lead.”

Hitelis staggered forward, and Cale, seeing Choi Han carrying Choi Jung Soo on his back, said to Raon,

“Contact Ms. Aurora and tell her to come take Choi Jung Soo.”

“Got it, human!”

As Raon answered at once, Cale added,

“And tell her to keep it a secret from Choi Jung Gun.”

Choi Han flinched.

His eyes met Cale’s.

Cale gave a crooked smile.

“One person already seeing red is enough for now.”

Choi Jung Gun had awakened in remarkably good condition after the corruption of chaos was purified.

Even so, this was no battlefield to drag him into right away.

Especially if he found out Choi Jung Soo had ended up like this—wouldn’t Choi Jung Gun lose control completely?

And if the Wanderers happen to spot Choi Jung Gun, that becomes a problem too.

Following behind Hitelis, Cale slowly sorted through his thoughts.

The highest-ranking holy knight, several times stronger than Choi Jung Soo.

And the many holy knights who were likely still guarding the Pope.

There was no need for his group to fight them head-on right now.

Clopeh Sekka.

Until you bring Mol in front of the Pope—

we won’t touch the Pope either.

When Mol and the highest-ranking holy knight collided.

Then.

If even for a brief instant a gap opened and the Pope’s side was left a little exposed—

that’s when we hit that bastard from behind.

Still, the saint of the God of Chaos.

The Pope.

And that damned God of Chaos itself.

“Nothing but things I can’t stand.”

He thoroughly disliked the way they did things.

“Human.”

Raon crept over, watching Cale’s expression, and spoke.

“What?”

At first glance Cale’s gaze on him looked as indifferent as usual, and that put Raon at ease enough to beam and blurt out what he wanted to say.

“Let’s smash them!”

“Hm?”

Cale paused.

But unlike how furious he had looked a little earlier, Cale was treating him the same as always now, and Raon spoke comfortably.

“Let’s smash the Order of the God of Chaos! The Pope is here, and the highest-ranking holy knight is here too, so if we smash this place, we smash the Order!”

“That’s a great idea! I want to smash them too!”

Hong responded with fierce enthusiasm, and On, whose eyes met Cale’s, spoke placidly.

“I don’t think that’s a bad idea.”

She agreed with [N O V E L I G H T] her younger siblings.

As Hitelis’s face drained even whiter, On continued.

“And wasn’t that what you were planning anyway?”

Cale could not answer a word.

But On seemed to hear the answer in his silence. The corners of her lips curled up.

Nyaaoong—

A hum slipped into her little cry.

The average ten-year-olds remembered.

When Ron had come back with one arm gone, how Cale had gone to the sea with the Whale Tribe and dealt with Dark.

“What are you doing? Why are you moving so slowly?”

Just look at him now.

His tone alone was the same as always. The force he was wielding was savage, and he was openly threatening Hitelis—who was stumbling along—to move faster.

And not one of his companions tried to stop him.

With that presence cinching down over her whole body, as if it meant to dominate even the air she breathed, Hitelis had no choice but to surrender both her body and her breath and force her steps forward.

But the light in her eyes had not gone out yet.

Pope.

If she brought them to him, a path would surely open.

Within chaos, the only light would be born.

Yes.

She could live.

And the Order’s great plan would not be shaken. The God of Chaos would obtain what he desired.

Cale Henituse!

Because the God of Chaos wanted his body.

The God of Chaos wished to descend into that body.

Let us offer this man to the Pope!

Heat that had not yet gone out flared in Hitelis’s eyes.

—Human.

Raon spoke to Cale through magic.

—That head steward’s eyes are insolent.

The corner of Cale’s mouth twisted upward.

*****

BOOOOM!

Mol, leader of the Demon King’s Third Army, stepped back and flicked his sword.

Drip. Drip.

Drops of blood scattered through the air like paint.

“Hoo—”

He let out a breath.

“You’re persistent.”

At his words, the top-tier holy knight standing guard before the door lowered his shield and replied,

“You will not pass this place.”

His voice was flat, and his face showed no emotion at all.

Mol still had not managed to break him.

Damn it.

Even if this man was one of the Order’s three top-tier holy knights, Mol had expected to beat him easily.

Because Mol himself was a renowned powerhouse in a world, a dimension, a place called the Demon World.

Under the current Demon King’s system, he was one of the ten strongest.

And yet here he was, being pushed back by some holy knight of the Order of the God of Chaos—a sect not even as famous as the Order of the Sun God, and not even one with a large following despite serving an ancient god.

Mol’s lips curled up.

“That’s not really something the one who’s been getting pushed back all this time should be saying, is it? Feels to me like I’ll be the one crossing that door soon enough.”

He deliberately raised his voice as he looked at the closed door over the holy knight’s shoulder.

But the holy knight remained calm.

“You will not. Just as you have not so far.”

Woooooo—

A bizarre cry welled up from the knight’s shield.

A gray shield.

It bore no mark at all.

It did not crack.

It did not break.

It merely endured.

Of course, under the force contained in Mol’s sword, the body of the holy knight holding the shield had eventually been pushed all the way back to the entrance.

“But I am not tired yet.”

The holy knight calmly informed him of reality.

“But you are.”

That was true.

Mol was covered in small wounds, sweat, and dust.

The moment he realized he could not break the holy knight’s shield, Mol had immediately switched to attacking the other holy knights around him.

He had tried to get into the building by going around instead.

So his sword was stained with the blood of holy knights—

“......”

“......”

—but the ones gravely wounded only fell back. They did not show pain, or even fear.

And the holy knights who took their places also raised their weapons toward Mol without a trace of fear on their faces.

There are too many of them.

More people than he had expected were still staying by the Pope’s side.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOOOM!

Even now, the Demon King’s forces led by Terosa were attacking Moraka Castle, and the holy knights would be busy holding them back.

Then why can’t the Demon King’s army get inside the castle?

Mol, unaware that the holy knights who had gone to search for the supposed Wanderers—mistaking Cale and Sui Khan for them—had struck from the rear of the Demon King’s forces, could only feel the situation turning more irritating by the second.

Still, no.

Even so, Mol could not use all of his strength here.

I can’t break the seal.

Not yet.

For now, he had to endure.

That object he possessed.

Thanks to that object, passed down through his family for generations, Mol had always been able to hold out in the worst situations.

That has to be used in front of the Pope.

When he killed the Pope.

That was when he had to use it.

“You cannot break this shield. And if you cannot break it, you cannot cross this door.”

At the holy knight’s declaration, Mol’s face twisted.

And toward the exhausted enemy—

Step.

Step, step, step.

The holy knights advanced.

Dozens of blades yearned to touch Mol’s body.

THUD!

And the holy knight slammed his shield down onto the ground and proclaimed, his body-sized shield planted behind him,

“No one can break the shield bestowed by Chaos.”

When he had first received this shield imbued with the power of chaos,

when he had first reached the rank of top-tier holy knight,

the holy knight had become certain.

This shield, containing chaos, would never break.

Damn it!

And Mol was thinking the same thing.

That shield.

The instant he laid a hand on that gray shield, hallucinations swallowed him.

A battlefield smothered in confusion.

Countless weapons aimed at him.

He knew it was an illusion, but he could not ignore it.

Because in the gap created by that hallucination, the other holy knights aimed real weapons at him.

There was truth mixed into the illusion.

Which made it maddening.

As Mol dodged weapons that fell far short of his actual level, he only grew more exhausted.

And it’s hard.

That shield was too hard.

No—it was getting harder and harder.

Why?

What was making that shield harder?

“In the end, you die.”

Damn it.

At the holy knight’s words, Mol could not find anything to say in return.

The Hand Behind the Back.

Mol, called the price of betrayal, was strong even in a straightforward fight.

And yet right now, with enemies surrounding him on all sides, he could feel the burden of holding out alone.

He had been in situations like this countless times.

The more betrayal he dealt out, the more often he had wound up surrounded in enemy territory.

So why did it feel so much heavier now?

“Hah. Hah.”

Mol did not even realize his breathing had grown ragged.

His gaze drifted back to the shield.

That steadfast shield.

He could not see any opening at all to break it.

“......” 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

And seeing that look on Mol’s face, certainty filled the holy knight’s eyes.

As I thought. In the end, he yields.

One who yielded before the shield could never break this shield.

Before one engulfed in chaos, this shield would never break.

And he—whose conviction was stronger than Mol’s—would never lose the shield.

So to the man whose will to win was draining away, the holy knight said,

“You have not been granted passage beyond this door.”

Damn it!

Damn it all!

Mol thought of even his final move, and his face twisted further.

It was not an act.

Real desolation showed plainly on his face.

The holy knight continued evenly.

“This door—”

For the first time, an expression appeared on the holy knight’s mouth.

A smile.

A smile close to a sneer.

“This door will never open for you.”

That was when it happened.

Creeeak.

A sound he should never have heard came from behind him.

The sound of a door opening.

And—

“!”

For one instant, a chill crawled over the holy knight.

A strange, unidentifiable presence.

Gooseflesh rose all over his body.

Without realizing it, he yanked up the shield embedded in the ground and turned around.

Creeeak—BANG!

The door flew violently wide open.

The one who had opened it stood there with both arms spread and a brilliant smile on his face.

“General Mol. I opened the door!”

Black hair.

Green eyes.

At the sight of Kase, whom he himself had ordered locked up, Mol could only stare blankly.

“Y-you—how?”

How the hell was that bastard there?

And beyond the open door, he could see holy knights sprawled across the floor.

At the same time, drops of blood were falling from the sword in Clopeh’s hand.

At times he had seemed like a merchant.

At others, like a perfectly typical high nobleman.

But now, smiling with a sword in his hand, Kase looked like a swordsman filled with madness.

“But you know—”

In the middle of that wrecked scene, Clopeh Sekka leisurely shifted his gaze.

It settled on the holy knight standing directly before him with the shield.

A top-tier holy knight.

From inside the room, Clopeh had heard this man’s voice.

It had been so loud, so solid, so full of certainty that there had been no way not to hear it.

“That’s a shield, isn’t it?”

Clopeh’s smile deepened.

“I heard it from inside earlier. An unbreakable shield, was it?”

The holy knight addressed the sudden enemy who had appeared from within.

“Who are you—”

But Clopeh did not listen.

There was something he needed to ask.

“Who gave you permission to use words like that?”

The holy knight faltered.

“What?”

“An unbreakable shield?”

Aura began to roll off Clopeh.

The aura born from dead mana responded to Clopeh’s emotions as if alive, sinking deeper and deeper.

It did not turn violent.

Instead it became deeper still, and colder.

Like the shadow cast by the brightest light.

“Did the God of Chaos tell you to call that shield by that name?”

How dare he.

That shield—the Unbreakable Shield—which had first made Lord Cale known to the world, which had stood at the core of the countless legends born ever since—

and a mere holy knight, someone only borrowing a fragment of the God of Chaos’s power, dared to use that exalted name?

“Ha, hahaha—”

Clopeh burst into loud laughter.

Then the laughter cut off abruptly, and his gaze turned toward the holy knight—

more precisely, toward the gray shield.

“That shield has to be broken.”

The Unbreakable Shield.

That was a name only Lord Cale had the right to bear.

So that shield had to be broken.

“No matter what.”

The holy knight involuntarily swallowed.

Those eyes.

They held something beyond certainty—something like an obvious truth.

And the owner of those eyes declared calmly,

“That shield will break. No matter what.”

Shing.

Dead mana aura gathered along Clopeh’s sword.

A pure-white aura.

The stark white shadow that wished to hide its existence within Cale’s light no longer bothered to hide itself.