◇
It happened about a week before Fuuka and her companions arrived in Kyokutou——.
"Hey, Orun."
Having just finished slaying a Giant Beast Species magic beast that had appeared in the Hitia Duchy, Fuuka spoke up softly.
"Hmm? What is it?"
"Orun, aren't you afraid to die?"
"Where is this coming from all of a sudden...? Of course I am. Anyone would be."
Orun replied with a wry, self-deprecating smile.
"Then how can you use [Evil-Bane]? If you mishandle it even slightly, it could kill you."
"......I see. So that's what's on your mind."
Realizing the intent behind her question, Orun’s expression softened into a faint smile.
"Like I said, death is scary. But there's something《・・・・・》 I fear far more——and that's losing what is precious to me."
Orun’s gaze drifted toward the distant horizon as he continued.
"Twice in the past, I failed to protect what mattered. Both times, it was because I wasn't strong enough... and I watched them slip away right before my eyes."
Quiet determination, thick with old pain, seeped into his voice.
"I’m sick of that feeling. If betting my own life increases the chances of protecting what I love even by a fraction, then I——will bet it without a second thought."
◇
Grimacing at the pain lancing through her entire body, Fuuka clung to that memory of Orun.
The image of him declaring he would protect what was precious even at the cost of his life flickered behind her eyelids.
What about her? She had claimed to be "Orun’s sword."
Was she protecting him?
Was she seeing her resolve through to the end?
Did she possess a spirit worthy of matching his?
It was then.
A heavy, dull something surged up from her depths.
The Cursed Katana gripped in her right hand trembled violently.
Then, she felt a presence—like a voice whispering directly into her ear.
『——Look at you. How pathetic.』
It wasn't a physical sound.
It was a wave of negative emotion that soaked into her brain, invading her very psyche.
『Is this all you are?』
『Cut. Cut more. Slice them, rend them, keep on killing until there’s nothing left……!』
Anger. Hatred. Fear. Sorrow.
A deluge of emotional remnants from the Youkai slain by this blade in the past came flooding into her.
Normally, she could have tuned them out.
If she simply shifted her focus, they were nothing more than background noise.
——But now, things were different.
The agony in her body.
The doubt in her heart.
Striking at the cracks in her spirit, the voices became terrifyingly vivid.
『"I have strived to gain power," you said? How miserable, to have this be the result.』
『Cutting is the only thing you’re good for, so what are you hesitating for now?』
『In the end, you’re a nobody. That’s why you deceive yourself by playing at being a "sword," isn't it? Comical.』
"Shut up……"
Fuuka managed a raspy croak.
But it only backfired.
The voices of resentment intensified, pouring into her soul.
Her face contorted as she struggled not to be drowned by the negative tide.
Then——an entirely different voice reached her ears.
"............Is someone there……?"
It was a girl's voice.
Not a curse, and not a hallucination.
It was a soft, trembling, real voice《・・・・》.
(……That…… voice……)
Fuuka forced her head up.
And then, it came again.
"Um…… please……! Get me out of here……!"
She heard it clearly this time.
It wasn't a lingering grudge; it was a desperate plea for help.
Forcing her staggering body to obey, Fuuka poured strength into her arms.
She looked toward a specific room—the room that had once been her own.
Beyond those fusuma doors, a presence thick with mana wavered dimly.
(……She’s in there.)
Fuuka moved toward the doors with slow, agonizing, but certain steps.
——Driven by the conviction that she was there.
Then, as if to scatter the irritating voices of resentment, Fuuka swung the Cursed Katana in a single horizontal flash.
She sliced through the mana warding the room, and with a high-pitched crack, the fusuma split in two.
As Fuuka cut her way in, light flooded the space.
Beyond the ruined doors——in the center of that silent room—sat a lone girl.
The girl looked up with hollow eyes.
She must have been trying everything in her power to escape.
The girl wore a priestess uniform that was as tattered and worn as her own body.
Even so——her eyes alone were bright with tears, like a lost child who had finally found her older sister.
"Big Sis…… Fuuka……?"
The owner of the voice looked a little more mature than the girl in Fuuka’s memories.
But there was no mistaking her.
"……It’s been a while, Nagisa. We’re both a mess, aren't we?"
Fuuka tried to smile, but the wound on her cheek made the expression cramp painfully.
Seeing her sister, Nagisa stood as if a dam had burst.
She stumbled forward, breaking into a run before collapsing into Fuuka’s chest.
"Big Sis……!"
It was a cry that sounded as if every string holding her together had finally snapped.
Nagisa’s small body trembled violently against her.
Suppressed sobs finally broke free, spilling heat and moisture onto Fuuka’s chest.
"……I’m sorry, Nagisa. I’m late."
Fuuka tried to wrap her arms around her, but the pain wracking her body made it difficult to move.
Still, she managed to get one arm around her sister's trembling back, holding her close.
"It’s okay now. ——Everything is going to be okay……"
The words felt as much for herself as for Nagisa, rasped from the back of her throat.
Fuuka gently closed her eyes.
She breathed in, confirming the warmth of the small life she had finally managed to reclaim.
Once Nagisa had finally calmed down, Fuuka spoke.
"Nagisa, I need to ask a favor."
"Y-yeah! Anything! Even locked in here, I could feel what was happening outside…… You need me to use my Ability to purify the monsters, right?"
The fear had vanished from Nagisa’s voice, replaced by a desire to be useful.
"I’ll need that too, eventually. But not yet."
Fuuka slowly shook her head.
"Right now——I need you to lend me your strength to cut through the wall standing in my way."
"A wall……? What do I have to do?"
"Use Nagisa’s Ability to link my Ki with the Yoryoku of the Cursed Katana."
"What!? Connecting Yoryoku and Ki... that’s too dangerous! If you lose control, your very personality could be consumed by the blade!?"
"I know. But this is what it means to 'show my resolve.'"
"…………I understand."
Nagisa looked down, her face tight with worry, but she gave a quiet nod.
"Big Sis, please don't let the Yoryoku win."
"It’ll be fine. After all——I am the 《Demon King's Sword》."
Nagisa activated [Soul Manipulation].
In an instant, Fuuka felt a foreign sensation surge into her body from the Cursed Katana.
◆
When she opened her eyes, Fuuka found herself in a strange land.
It was the Hidden World——a vast, white chalk horizon that stretched out like an endless ice field under a Shinonome-colored sky.
Swirling around her like a cage were mists of copper-colored vapor, smelling faintly of blood.
『……What is this? Do you, a mere human girl, think you can hold our reins?』
『You were breaking under a little pressure just moments ago. What exactly do you think you’ve gained?』
Multiple, overlapping voices echoed in her skull.
Roars. Jeers. Curses.
Every word was laced with pure malice.
Until now, Fuuka had treated these voices as noise to be ignored.
But she didn't hear them as noise anymore.
She had borrowed the sword's power before, but she had never stepped inside it.
She had been too afraid of being consumed.
——But now she knew: she would never reach the pinnacle if she stayed on the outside.
The moment Kiryuu had defeated her and exposed her naivety, she had been forced to face the cowardice lurking in her heart.
『Foolish child. Be swallowed by us. Dissolve into our hate.』
Fuuka took a slow, steady breath.
Even now, stepping into this torrent of resentment was terrifying.
But if she didn't move forward, there were things she would never be able to protect.
Her country.
Her friends.
Her sister.
"……Is that all you have to say?"
Fuuka looked up.
The hesitation in her eyes had vanished.
"Then it’s my turn. Listen."
『……You would command us? You, a nobody?』
Fuuka closed her eyes for a moment, then snapped them open.
The flame of resolve burning in her soul reflected in her pupils.
"——I am the 《Demon King's Sword》. I am the one who will reclaim this land and walk the path of kings alongside my friends and my King."
Her quiet voice drifted into the sky of the Hidden World.
Yet, those words sent a visible ripple through the copper mists.
『Hmph. Any beast can bark.』
『Regret those words while you still have a tongue to speak them, girl.』
Fuuka took a step forward, right into the heart of the mist.
An invisible weight pressed down on her. Her breathing grew shallow.
But the light in her eyes did not dim.
"Your power is undeniably strong. I won't deny that."
The voices within the mist fell silent.
Her words didn't begin with hostility, but with acknowledgment—an understanding that seemed to baffle the spirits.
"But what have you actually achieved with all that power? You scream your grudges, you wound others, and you repeat the cycle forever. There is no meaning in that. It is you who are the nobodies."
Fuuka’s voice remained calm, yet a searing heat dwelled at its core.
"I was scared, too. I pretended you weren't there, skimming just enough power from the surface when it was convenient for me. I was terrified of being swallowed by your resentment, terrified of losing myself——so I ran."
The copper mist swirled into a frenzy around her, as if reacting to her confession.
"But I was wrong. Taking only what’s convenient while refusing to look at the truth——that’s not wielding power. That’s just hiding from it."
Fuuka tightened her grip on the Cursed Katana.
"It might be late, but I’m going to face you now. Your anger, your hatred, your sorrow——I’ll take it all on my shoulders and keep moving forward."
『……What are you saying?』
『You clearly still don’t grasp the depth of your own stupidity.』
"I grasp it perfectly. But I’ve decided to do it anyway."
From within Fuuka, a soft aura of Ki began to rise.
It was a pale cherry-blossom pink, as gentle and vibrant as spring.
"I will give your existence meaning. We will cut open the future together. So——lend me your strength."
The moment the copper mist touched Fuuka’s Ki, particles of light scattered into the air.
『……I hate your guts. But you’re interesting.』
The copper-colored vortex began to shift, slowly turning a faint, pale cherry-blossom hue.
『Very well. We shall lend you our aid.』
It felt as though their very essence was shifting.
The anger was melting, transforming into a tool with a purpose.
『But never forget. We are not your loyal servants. The moment you show a single opening——』
"——You’ll try to devour me, right?"
The corners of Fuuka’s mouth turned up in a slight smirk.
The fear was gone.
Only resolve remained.
"Fine by me. It wouldn't be much of a challenge otherwise."
The voices fell silent.
The mist of Yoryoku converged on Fuuka’s body like a rising wind.
The once-copper energy was dyed in the colors of cherry blossoms as it finally settled within her.