Soaked by the rain, she was draped in a pure white raiment.
At a glance, it appeared to be ordinary clothing, but every thread was woven from magic power. It was likely sturdier than any mediocre suit of armor.
She watched me from a distance. Her presence was exactly as I remembered it; this was no illusion. She was truly standing there.
Yet, she differed from the person I once knew in one way: her body harbored an overwhelming amount of magic power. She no longer belonged to the human realm. Because the Will of the World resided within her, the power she held was so vast its depths were unfathomable. It was as if the world itself had taken human form.
Technically, the art I had invoked was not a true resurrection. I had created a human body through various exceptional means and installed her as the primary personality. I had worried that her personality or memories might have been altered by some malfunction. Bracing myself, I steeled my resolve and spoke.
"Hero-sama..."
"It has been a long time, Dwight. I never expected to see you again."
She spoke quietly. Her voice was steady, her dignified air exactly as it had been back then, reminiscent of our journey when she was alive. I realized then that she had not changed. Despite having an absurdity like the Will of the World woven into her being, she had not lost herself. She stood before me as a firm, distinct individual.
I tried to explain the events that had led us here, but she raised a hand to stop me.
"I understand the situation. You brought me back to life, didn't you?"
"Yes. I wanted you to see the world as it is today."
Through the magic formula, she was connected to both the Will of the World and the keepsake sword. She seemed to have used those links to grasp information she hadn't personally witnessed. Wise as ever, she showed no sign of confusion, accepting her resurrection and the passage of over a decade with total composure.
"When you were executed in the Valley of the Dead, you harbored deep regret and sadness—and a powerful resentment. I didn't expect you to become the Demon King, but it is very much like you."
She spoke while looking directly at me. Even facing me as a black undead, she showed no agitation. She did not mourn my fall into darkness, nor did she reprimand me. Instead, she said it was "like me."
Her intelligent eyes remained fixed on me. I lowered my gaze slightly.
"I... I am sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?"
"I defied your wishes. I refused to be executed quietly, and I laid hands upon forbidden power."
"But you didn't become the Demon King solely for revenge, did you?"
She spoke with certainty, not doubting her intuition for a second. Even though I hadn't said a word, she had seen through to my true objective. This wasn't something she could have learned from mere records; she had predicted it based on her knowledge of my character.
I can't keep secrets from her...
We were comrades who had entrusted our lives to one another. We could sense each other's thoughts and feelings to a certain extent. Her insight, in particular, was sharp enough to make me marvel. Whenever I had struggled in silence, she would immediately notice and offer to listen. There was no point in lies or half-hearted excuses. I decided to speak the truth.
"I wanted to maintain world peace. It may differ from the future you envisioned, but this was the answer I reached in my own way."
I won't claim I felt no resentment. It is a fact that I escaped the Valley of the Dead with a grudge and attacked the Royal Capital. I still feel disappointment and resignation regarding humanity; that is why I reign as the Demon King. Yet, my desire to achieve world peace is genuine. I wanted to take up the mantle of what she couldn't finish. By changing the methods used to get there, I sought to lead the world toward success. It surely wasn't the perfect path, but I have done my best until now.
Hearing my confession, she offered a warm, familiar smile.
"You were always so earnest, always thinking deeply about everything. If anything, you were more of an idealist than I was, while simultaneously being a realist."
"What... what do you mean by that?"
"I have no intention of denying the world peace you envision. This is the answer you spent ten years searching for. You should uphold it with confidence."
With that declaration, she placed her hand on her hilt and slowly drew her sword. Pointing the blade at me, she spoke in a calm, steady voice.
"—That being said, I will stand against you."
"So it has come to this, after all."
"I empathize with your thoughts, but I cannot agree with them. Therefore, as the Hero, I must stop you."
She spoke without a hint of hesitation. Diera had warned me, and she was right: a Hero possesses a spirit befitting the name. The person I admired most retained her unfading nobility.
In that moment, I understood the true meaning of our reunion. I hadn't brought her back to life so she would agree with me. And certainly not so she could destroy me.
It was so that, as the modern-day Demon King, I could surpass the world's greatest Hero.