Muen wiped the blood from his face. The hideous wounds covering his body gradually healed as he climbed the stairs step by step. By the time his gaze met the woman’s at eye level, every visible injury had already recovered.

Only his complexion had become deathly pale, though the lingering bloodstains made it less obvious.

“First meeting. May I ask the lady’s name?”

Muen smiled. Beneath the hazy dawn light, that smile was enough to captivate any young woman. He looked merely like a flirtatious nobleman approaching to strike up a conversation. There was not the slightest trace of killing intent in his every movement.

And in reality... there truly was no killing intent left.

The sharp sensation of his mind tearing apart had already left Muen on the verge of collapse. Even though he had understood every detail of that battle perfectly, it had still wrung dry every ounce of his strength, every fragment of his mental energy.

From the wreckage of that battlefield to the top of these stairs, Muen had already reached his limit in the literal sense. Every cell in his body was screaming. If not for his sheer willpower forcing him upright, he would have collapsed long ago.

Where would he possibly find the spare strength to radiate... killing intent?

And this really was his first meeting with the woman before him.

“Donna,” Donna said. “Donna Watt. Left Hand of the Holy Lord, First Seat of the Salvation Society. I handle a few insignificant chores for the Holy Lord.”

“Left Hand... so that means you’re the last person protecting that old bastard here?” Muen asked.

“...More or less. You can understand it that way.”

Donna’s eyes flickered as she studied Muen. Looking at the blond man standing before her, even someone like her, who despised humanity as a species, could not help but feel genuine admiration.

“Muen Campbell, you truly are someone completely beyond my imagination. I originally believed it was absolutely impossible for anyone to successfully reach this place, yet somehow, you did.”

Royal guards.

Knights.

Traps.

Formations.

Salvation Society elites.

The turncoat Royal Mage Corps.

Aside from the absence of a Crowned, Saint Haze Palace had gathered a force comparable to a true elite army. And because of that pillar of light locking onto the intruder, infiltration and assassination had been impossible. The only option had been a frontal breakthrough.

This achievement was difficult even to imagine. If news of it spread, the entire continent would be shaken. Those so-called geniuses would become utterly insignificant before this accomplishment, dimmed into irrelevance.

Muen Campbell would gain yet another legend to his name.

But this time, not as some playboy, nor because he was juggling multiple women again.

Rather, in a manner that would leave everyone utterly dumbfounded, he had accomplished a feat that should have been absolutely impossible.

Yes.

This was already worthy of being called a great feat.

A single person breaking through an army.

Even in history books, that would leave behind a thick and unforgettable mark.

“To be honest, I’m still curious how you did it.”

Donna frowned slightly, unable to understand.

“Although you somehow managed to stall outside reinforcements, according to my calculations, the probability of a non-Crowned breaking through the entirety of Saint Haze Palace was less than one in ten thousand. This was no longer simply a matter of strength. Layer after layer of traps, attacks from all directions, bizarre abilities mixed in among them—one wrong step and everything would have become irretrievable. One mistake would have ruined the entire game. Yet somehow... it feels as though you made every correct choice.”

“It’s nothing... luck, just luck.”

Muen waved modestly.

“I was just slightly luckier than usual. Not worth praising.”

“I don’t believe anyone in this world is that lucky. And based on your previous intelligence reports, you’re actually someone with terrible luck. Otherwise, you wouldn’t constantly get dragged into all sorts of troublesome incidents.”

“...”

Muen’s mouth twitched.

Even the Salvation Society knew his luck was awful now?

Damn it. How exactly was his luck bad?

Didn’t he just constantly run into Evil Gods... constantly encounter bizarre incidents... constantly run into terrorists... constantly run into gay psychos and dead perverts...

Fine.

His luck really was terrible. There was genuinely no counterexample he could use to argue otherwise.

“Then what am I supposed to say? It’s not like I can tell you it’s because I’m experienced and practiced enough to make it instinctive.”

Muen spread his hands helplessly.

“...”

Donna thought for a while, then nodded.

“That makes sense. It seems luck really is the only explanation for everything that just happened. A lifetime of misfortune exchanged for this single moment of fortune? It appears the Holy Lord was right. Even if the world itself stands on our side, the road to salvation is still rugged. Unexpected variables will always appear.”

“Salvation? You people really dare to say that.”

Muen sneered.

If sacrificing an entire city of millions just to let an Evil God descend was part of “salvation”...

Then wouldn’t every single cultist before them count as a great humanitarian?

Gaius’s theory had been flawed from the very beginning.

But Muen could not be bothered arguing anymore, because he knew that debating right and wrong with fanatical lunatics was meaningless to begin with.

One only needed to do what one believed was right.

“You’re the only one left now. Everything’s finally about to end.”

Muen no longer continued the pointless conversation. After calming his chaotic breathing slightly, he tightened his grip on Elizabeth and stepped up the final two stairs.

“Come on. Don’t waste time.”

“...According to my calculations, you should already be at the end of your rope.”

Donna did not move. She merely seemed to be considering something.

“So if you choose to retreat and leave this place, I can let you go.”

“Let me go? How lofty of you... Yes, I really am at the end of my rope.”

Muen smiled without denying it.

“But after coming this far, if I don’t at least try once more to break through my limits, I think I’ll regret it. Wouldn’t I?”

It was like a boss in a game having only one point of health left.

And you also having only one point of health left.

At that moment, would you retreat?

Or charge forward recklessly?

Muen felt there was only one possible answer.

Even if he died, he would still swing that final strike!

“You’re right... after reaching this point, retreating now truly would make no sense.”

Donna took a deep breath. Her somewhat disheveled dress swayed gently in the breeze.

But just as Muen braced himself, preparing to focus completely on this unfamiliar enemy he had never faced before...

Donna suddenly stepped aside and opened the way.

“Hm?”

Muen had only raised his blade halfway before freezing.

“What’s this supposed to mean?”

“Can’t you tell?”

Donna’s face remained expressionless.

“I’m letting you pass.”

“I know you’re letting me pass, but... why?”

Weren’t you the Holy Lord’s Left Hand?

Wasn’t she the highest-ranking person in charge here?

In a normal story, shouldn’t she have been the final boss guarding the checkpoint and delivering the last blow to the protagonist?

Yet before the fight even started, she stepped aside?

That made no sense.

“A trap?”

Muen became vigilant, black flames floating around him.

“Relax. There’s no trap. I really am letting you pass. As for the reason... isn’t it obvious?”

Donna paused, then smiled.

“I’m afraid I can’t beat you.”

“?”

Muen became even more confused.

“Afraid?”

“Is that difficult to understand?”

Donna pointed toward the devastated battlefield behind Muen.

“You single-handedly fought your way through all of Saint Haze Palace. The Kingdom’s elite royal guards, the Royal Mage Corps, Salvation Society elites, special ability users... many among them possessed strength that even I would be wary of, and yet every single one died at your hands.”

“That proves your strength far surpasses mine.”

Donna looked at Muen seriously.

“Although you look completely exhausted now, I don’t dare gamble on whether you can erupt again and unleash the same combat power as before. Because if I lose that gamble, then I’ll probably die too.

“So... I’m letting you pass.”

“No... wait.”

Muen had already mentally prepared himself for another life-and-death battle. Donna giving up this naturally instead left him at a complete loss.

“If you act like this, then all the people who died before—”

“Dead is dead. A bunch of useless trash!”

“And Gaius blaming you—”

“That’s because those idiots were incompetent. What can I do about it? The Holy Lord will understand the humiliating decision I made to survive for the New World.”

“...”

This woman really threw responsibility away cleanly...

Muen was speechless as he carefully examined the woman named Donna from head to toe.

Aside from her seductive charm and allure, the shameless calmness on her face was equally astonishing.

So this was the type of middle manager who never did any real work and only knew how to dump blame onto others and steal credit?

He loved it.

“Then I’ll... go in?”

“Go ahead. I won’t stop you, and there aren’t any traps inside either. After all, it’s just that old bastard’s bedchamber.”

Donna looked utterly unconcerned, as though she had genuinely given up stopping Muen entirely.

“...”

After confirming several times that Donna truly had completely given up and had absolutely no intention of attacking, Muen finally circled around her cautiously, carefully approached the bedchamber, and slowly pushed open the doors.

Nothing happened.

Just as Donna had said, there were no traps or obstructions whatsoever.

Instead, a certain obscene smell rushed directly into his face, making Muen’s eye twitch.

That old bastard...

Don’t tell me that while a blade was practically already at his throat, he had still been busy doing that kind of thing just now...

Muen looked into the bedchamber, and at a glance saw Saint Peron V lying unconscious on the bed, cheeks sunken and cheekbones protruding, looking practically like a dried corpse.

He wore a silk sleeping robe, his chest completely exposed. In his hand was some kind of semicircular device, and one blinking point of light upon it was especially conspicuous.

Holy shit, he really had been drained into a mummy!

Though... looking at him now, maybe he was not entirely to blame.

“That’s not my fault. Blame those idiots mixing the drugs for messing up the proportions.”

Donna’s face was filled with disgust.

“Sleeping with something like that was a tremendous sacrifice for me too.”

“...”

Yeah, yeah.

A tremendous sacrifice.

Those people outside merely sacrificed their lives and souls.

But you sacrificed your chastity.

Actually, her chastity was probably long gone already.

Muen curled his lips into a mocking grin and walked into the bedchamber.

Saint Peron V had already fainted, and with nobody obstructing him, Muen easily walked to the bedside.

Compared to the desperate fighting all the way here, this final stretch was so easy it almost felt unbelievable.

“But in the end... I still made it.”

Muen murmured absentmindedly.

He had fought and killed his way forward the entire journey. Nobody knew what he had experienced. Before he truly stepped into this place, everything that had happened during that stretch of time would not completely remain in history either.

The only thing proving that suffering was the exhaustion hidden deep within Muen’s eyes at this very moment.

And now...

It was finally about to end.

Saint Peron V was right before him.

Not exactly the mastermind, but the one who had triggered the beginning of the disaster. The accomplice who allowed the Salvation Society to complete its objective...

As long as he killed him, the Salvation Society’s plan would completely collapse.

Everything would finally end.

End at this moment in time.

Although there had still been many sacrifices...

Although this city still carried scars that could never be erased...

Although the story still had not been perfectly corrected...

For Muen, the temporary actor who had stepped onto this stage, this was already the best ending he could achieve.

An ending bought through countless hardships.

An ending shaped by the hands of this “main character.”

“Then let’s end it!”

Muen no longer hesitated.

Black flames ignited upon the pure white blade.

To ensure absolutely nothing went wrong, he poured every last bit of his power into this strike, guaranteeing Saint Peron V’s death without the slightest mistake.

Only after finishing all preparations did Muen finally point the blade toward Saint Peron V’s heart.

Then—

He drove it down with all his strength!