Beyond the stone staircase carved into the mountain lay a vast plateau hewn directly from the rock. Colossal divine statues, some dozens of meils tall, stood sentinel around the stone-paved square.
In ages past, this land drew Elfen pilgrims from every corner of the world. Countless devotees were said to have climbed those endless stone steps, moved to tears by the divine mystery radiating from the statues that greeted them at the summit.
The place was called Roses Caitas. In the ancient tongue, the name meant "Land of Audience with God."
Roses Caitas was not a place built by mortal hands; it was a mystical sanctuary that had existed since the dawn of time. But the Demon King had unleashed his aide upon this sacred ground, baring his fangs against the divine. Now, most of the statues lay in ruins—some shattered completely, others left as crumbling husks.
Following that devastation, the Elfen Religion and the Kingdom of Leomel, fearing another assault by the Demon King, invoked a powerful seal to isolate the entire region.
Centuries later, a man and a woman stood together in the heart of Roses Caitas. Confronting a presence that defied all logic, the two spoke with their usual ease.
"Hey, Ren," Lithia said, looking up at him. "Do you ever wish we were back at the festival in the capital instead of here? If we were there, you’d only be fighting people our age in the martial arts tournament. We might even be facing each other in the finals right about now."
"No, I don't have any regrets," Ren replied.
"Heh, I figured you’d say that."
"Still, I suppose we could call this the 'Backstage' version of the festival."
The two looked at each other and shared a small laugh. Who could possibly imagine the events unfolding here, far from the eyes of the crowds enjoying the massive celebration in the Imperial Capital?
Ren let out a self-deprecating huff. Before the life-or-death struggle on this hidden stage could truly begin, he added, "Though I suppose this is more our style, isn't it?"
"It is. Fighting away from the spotlight feels exactly like us."
"…I know it’s a bit late for this, but won't you please evacuate after all?"
"Dummy. It really is too late for that, and you know it’s impossible anyway."
Lithia gave him a wry smile and tightened her grip on Byaku-en. Her hand did not shake as she held the famous sword that served as her symbol. No trace of fear touched her expression; she simply looked up at Ren and smiled.
Gazing through the sandstorm at the unreasonable foe waiting for them, she asked, "Or are you unhappy that I’m the one standing beside you?"
Ren lashed out with his Iron Magic Sword, cutting through the sandstorm with a single strike. The gale—a manifestation of magic—dissipated instantly. Lithia stepped ahead of him and turned back, a graceful, radiant smile on her lips as she reached toward him.
A wave of light emanated from her fingertips, enveloping Ren's body.
"Well?" she asked, her eyes teasing him provocatively without the need for words.
"Even in a situation like this, you’re the same as always, Lady Lithia."
"Even if I die, it's enough as long as you're with me, Ren. It would just mean dying a few decades earlier than planned, that's all."
"…I see."
Ren took her hand. An intense flash of light swallowed them both, and a surge of renewed power flooded their bodies.
"Just don't get mad at me if you get hurt."
"You're being persistent. You've taken the Saintess's hand, Ren, so you’d better be prepared."
The ruins of the divine statues stood silent, weathered by time and shattered by the Demon King’s servant. Though the tension in the air was suffocating, Lithia continued to smile by Ren's side.
"Just watch—my Holy Magic is much stronger than it used to be. You might even find that your magic sword cuts a little better now."
The White Saintess let out a soft, melodic laugh. Here, in this ancient place surrounded by fallen gods, a battle was about to begin—a struggle hidden in the shadows of history.