Chapter 24
KWA-KA-KANG!
A tremendous explosion erupted.
“Kyahhh! Lady Daphne!”
As expected, the explosion blasted away the debris that had blocked the sky, opening a way to the outside.
But this wasn’t the end. Daphne’s real goal was to absorb the death energy released by the blast.
“Be consumed.”
Shaaak—!
From Daphne’s fingertips, pitch-black magic surged forth. It branched like the tendrils of a plant, forming a massive vine that wrapped around the deathly aura spilling from the bomb.
KWA-AANG!
But the condensed death energy was not easy to devour.
If she hadn’t taken Teiti’s doping potion, it would have been impossible. The side effects were awful, but the power it gave her was worth it—she had no choice.
“I’ll absorb this black magic with my own power and turn it into my mana.”
That would increase her total mana.
Of course, it would hurt like hell afterward—but so what? Pain was the price of growing stronger.
“Kyahhhhhh!”
“G-good heavens!”
“Ahhh! My lady! What are you doing?!”
A familiar voice cried out, but Daphne didn’t even glance that way.
“Huff… huff…” She steadied her breath and focused her mind.
She grabbed hold of the spreading death energy trying to escape her vine barrier…!
“What—what is that?”
“Oh my god…”
The pitch-black death energy rose high into the sky—yet it did not spread.
Because Daphne’s spell was clinging to it, forcing it down, swallowing it bit by bit.
“My lady!”
Daphne drew the condensed energy directly into her body.
“Khahhk!” Black fluid spurted from her mouth and nose.
But she didn’t stop.
Even as her skin blistered, even as her lungs burned, even as her body convulsed in agony—she would absorb it all. She had to.
[Absorbing mana…]
Daphne’s eyes flew open.
Almost there…
Damn it—her strength was fading.
She clenched her teeth, barely holding on to consciousness, but the potion’s effect was wearing off.
No—this won’t work…!
Should she stop the absorption and release it instead? No—if she did that, her body wouldn’t withstand it.
And she wouldn’t be the only one to die; everyone here would perish. She couldn’t let that happen after saving them.
Before, as a “Calamity,” she couldn’t properly help others—but now things were different.
The chain of causality was broken. She could finally show goodwill freely. That’s why she couldn’t give up. She had to save them. She could save them!
And so, she would do it—because she alone could.
“Be consumed!”
The black vines tightened around the death energy again.
“Urgh… ahh…!”
But it wasn’t enough. The potion’s power had faded, and the side effects were hitting her hard. Her vision dimmed, her mind flickered. Daphne bit the inside of her mouth until blood dripped down her chin.
I can do this… alone.
Just a little longer… if she could hold on just a little longer…!
KWA-KA-KANG!
Oh no—
A portion of the death energy that her power hadn’t reached began to surge upward. If it fell back down, everyone here would be engulfed by it.
“No…!”
Her desperate scream echoed—
Shaaak!
The torrent of death energy was cleaved cleanly in half. Then halved again, and again, until golden sword-light scattered through the air, purifying everything around.
Daphne stared blankly at the falling golden starlight, slowly lowering her hand. Then, she felt a strong presence supporting her back.
“Daphne.”
A familiar voice.
One she hated with every fiber of her being.
“It’s enough now.”
Yet somehow… that voice felt calming this time. Not so hateful.
“You did well—fighting alone.”
The death energy swirling around her body gradually subsided. As her strength drained away, Daphne’s eyelids grew heavy.
But before she lost consciousness, she mustered her remaining mana to cast a detection spell.
[Daphne Archion]
Mana: 50
Holy crap…!
Confirming her mana had increased, Daphne smiled faintly—and passed out.
“W-what in the world…”
When reality exceeds the mind’s capacity to comprehend, one loses speech.
Everyone who had evacuated was dumbstruck, mouths hanging open. What had just happened? A terror attack? A fire? A bomb?
No one could define it. Until—
“Mother! I’m here!”
A hoarse voice rang out—it was Brysa, who had escaped at the last moment thanks to Daphne.
“Oh, heavens! Brysa, my daughter!”
The Marchioness of Finch, who had been frantically running through the crowd, collapsed in relief at the sight of her daughter, then stumbled forward and embraced her tightly.
“Thank the gods, you’re alive!”
The two wept together, overwhelmed.
“I owe my life not to the gods, Mother—but to Lady Daphne. If not for her, I’d be dead… truly.”
Those around them, touched by the reunion, began listening closely.
Count Milan, who had tried to carry Daphne out earlier, raised his voice.
“That’s right. I was just about to bring Lady Daphne out when she suddenly ran back inside—she said she heard someone crying. It must’ve been Lady Brysa.”
“Yes! I couldn’t move because of my leg, and Lady Daphne saved me. She even stopped the magic bomb herself—she said I had to get out first!”
“W-wait. Daphne Archion saved you? And what’s this about a magic bomb?”
The murmurs spread rapidly.
Most were confused and disoriented, but a few began to piece things together.
“Th-that’s it! That’s what I saw—it was a bomb!”
“But not a normal one…”
“It was death energy, wasn’t it?”
Death energy!
Black magic!
Now everything clicked.
“Yes, that’s it! A black-magic bomb exploded! We almost died!”
“And Lady Daphne Archion stopped it?”
It sounded impossible, but remembering the scene—they knew it was true.
That rising column of death energy.
The little girl who absorbed it into her body.
They had seen it with their own eyes.
So their shock was even greater—not because of the terror, or the collapsing mansion, or the black-magic attack—but because of Daphne Archion herself.
At just five years old, she’d led the evacuation of the children as soon as the mansion began to collapse.
And then—she had faced an unknown black-magic bomb head-on with her bare body.
Something even a high priest could not do.
“W-where is Lady Daphne now?”
“I saw her collapse earlier, didn’t I?”
Uncertainty rippled through the crowd. Then a sharp cry came from the back—
“Your Excellency! Your Excellency!”
It was Heros’s aide, Pauline.
He had seen everything—how Heros had rushed to Daphne—and ran toward him, pale.
“What about the young lady?! Is she dead?!”
“She’s not.”
“Thank goodness.”
Pauline wiped his cold sweat and took Daphne into his arms.
Her face was ashen, her breathing shallow—clearly not well.
“But she looks like she might die soon. Her condition’s terrible.”
His blunt words caused an uproar.
“Is Lady Daphne in danger?”
“Shall we summon a priest? No—we must! Holy power can counter black magic!”
“She risked her life to save us…”
Those who once mocked her as a “brat” or “mad girl” were nowhere to be found. Now everyone looked at her with genuine worry, some even in tears.
“Call the priests to the estate. We’re returning—”
“Sir, perhaps clarify the situation first.”
Heros paused at Pauline’s words.
Everyone’s eyes were on him, wide with expectation.
They wanted confirmation.
Heros sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead.
“Anyone with eyes saw what she did.”
“She absorbed all the death energy, didn’t she?”
“Yes.”
At his nod, the crowd erupted.
“She saved us…”
“She’s a hero! Lady Daphne Archion is a hero!”
A hero, huh?
Heros scoffed inwardly. What good was praise if she died?
Grabbing Pauline by the collar, he strode quickly toward the carriage.
“We’ll never forget this debt!”
“We’ll honor the sacrifice of the heroic Lady Daphne!”
“Hey. She’s not dead yet.”
“A-ah! Then we’ll honor the deeds of the heroic Lady Daphne!”
Their voices rang out with conviction—and within two days, the tale of how Daphne Archion stopped a black-magic terror attack and saved everyone spread across the entire empire.
A crescent moon hung low in the night sky.
Thick clouds smothered even the starlight, leaving the world pitch-black.
Had it not been for the occasional distant cries of beasts, it would have felt like the darkness itself was crushing the world.
The deeper into the forest, the darker it grew.
Leaves drooped lifelessly, the glow-bugs that usually lit the night were nowhere to be seen, and only the gleaming eyes of prowling beasts flickered among the trees.
There, cloaked in a hooded robe, stood a man.
His entire body was wrapped in black bandages—only two bright yellow eyes visible.
He brushed the wrappings on his fingers lightly, then lifted his head.
Behind him knelt several figures on one knee, heads bowed.
“…So.”
His voice—if one could call it that—was horrible, a metallic rasp like steel scraping against steel.
Had anyone heard it unprepared, they’d have clutched their ears in pain.
But his subordinates didn’t so much as flinch; they were used to it. They simply bowed lower, listening intently.
“You mean… you failed?”
