The battle between Clana and Sera dragged on endlessly. Brilliant flames and golden auras twisted together in the arena’s heart, yet neither combatant bore a single wound.
As the fight wore on, their spellcasting grew weary and labored.
Sera wiped cold sweat from her brow, catching her breath. “Phew…”
Clana’s defensive power truly was unmatched in the Empire. Standing there made her formidable, but she became virtually invincible when she deployed her holy barrier.
The sacred shield that surrounded her was impenetrable.
The sight briefly reminded Sera of Amelia, the third-year student, but she quickly dismissed the comparison.
Clana was in another league entirely—she had the potential to make even the top third-year look insignificant.
Yet, for all her defensive might, Clana’s offensive abilities were pitiful in comparison. Her holy power, rather than harming Sera, actually restored her.
Every time Sera’s stamina began to flag, Clana’s power would inadvertently replenish it, prolonging their stalemate.
The spectators grew restless. This was the first time since Iria that anyone had seen Sera struggle and the longest duel to date.
If there had been any progress, they might have remained invested. But with both fighters unmarked and no end in sight, the spectacular display became tedious. One by one, they began to drift away.
Sera studied her opponent with her newly restored strength. Despite the barrage of flames she’d unleashed, Clana stood untouched, not a single burn marring her form.
Was this truly the legendary contest between spear and shield?
Clana wielded the ultimate defense, while Sera’s offensive power had proven itself during the Demon King Seed incident, matching even Ariel’s contribution.
But now, Sera couldn’t summon that same devastating force. Without shedding blood, she couldn’t fully tap into her constitution’s power.
To end this endless fight, she had only one option left.
Sera pressed the button on her ring, drawing out a small awl—the same one she’d shown Iria. Without hesitation, she dragged it across her arm.
Blood welled up, and her eyes flickered with power as she prepared to convert it into mana.
“What…?”
The surge of power was weaker than expected. Startled, Sera looked down at her arm. Golden holy light already enveloped the wound, instantly erasing pain and injury.
Without blood, she couldn’t access her constitution’s true strength.
Sera’s teeth ground together. “What are you doing?”
“Yes?”
“Why do you keep healing me? This is supposed to be a duel, not a game. Why aren’t you attacking?”
“I don’t know how?”
“You really…” Sera pressed her palm against her forehead with a sigh.
Clana was her perfect counter. Every attack met an immovable wall, with no counterattack to make it interesting. It felt like hurling magic at an empty fortress.
Even her last resort was automatically neutralized by Clana’s healing.
“This is pointless.”
With those words, Sera effectively forfeited the match.
***
Purify evil and heal the wounded—these were the teachings Clana had received from the church since childhood.
The holy power within her was meant for exactly that: cleansing demonic energy and granting salvation.
Clana believed she must have been born for this purpose alone.
She had lived by absorbing others’ words and actions, making them her own, never forming independent thoughts.
Everyone had always told her what she was, so surely that must be the truth.
‘I am a being who purifies evil. And I save those who are wounded.’
When she first encountered Iria, who had tormented her, Clana recognized her as the evil being the church had warned about.
Her blessed sight saw that Iria was different from ordinary humans—the first truly evil person she’d met outside the church walls. Purification seemed necessary.
And Sera stood beside Iria, clearly close to her. Wouldn’t that make her evil, too? This belief had driven Clana to accept the duel. Purifying evil was her purpose, after all.
But her holy power had no effect on Sera. It couldn’t harm humans—and Sera was undeniably human. Instead of purification, it bestowed blessings.
This realization complicated Clana’s worldview. Perhaps Sera wasn’t evil, and perhaps the church’s teachings weren’t absolute truth.
These thoughts had made Clana lose her will to fight. Though Sera had forfeited first, Clana would likely have done the same if the duel had continued.
Since leaving the church, she has learned much. Though still naive in many ways, she now clearly understood one truth: the world beyond the church’s safe corners was far vaster and more complex than she’d imagined.
Good and evil weren’t so easily distinguished.
Humans were three-dimensional beings. Good and evil were relative, varying with perspective. Even her own unconscious actions might seem evil to someone else.
Did that make Saint Clana an evildoer?
She didn’t know. This wasn’t something others could teach her—she had to think for herself.
Though she reached no conclusion, the very act of independent thought marked progress. Slowly but surely, Clana was coming to understand this world.
***
Despite the drama, Sera and Clana eventually reconciled—though “reconciliation” might be too strong a word, as neither had truly harbored ill will. Their duel had been purely formal.
When I checked on them sometime later, they had grown surprisingly close. Clana’s previous instability seemed to have calmed.
“Why did you heal my wounds during our duel?” Sera asked.
“I was taught never to ignore someone in need!” Clana replied brightly.
“At the church?”
“Yes!”
“That’s a bit much, isn’t it? Who heals their enemies?”
“But Sera, you’re not my enemy!”
“Ah, well… I suppose that’s true now.”
I watched them from afar. Sera had emerged from her depression, and Clana was gradually learning to understand the world. Ariel, ever stoic, was probably training even now.
This should be enough, shouldn’t it? I had helped reshape the future. Perhaps things would have turned out this way even without my intervention.
Ariel, this world’s protagonist, stood strong, with Sera and Clana—the female leads—by his side. Their brilliance was blinding to watch.
But I was just a spectator, a monster who could never join the lead actors on stage. The seats beyond the spotlight’s reach lay in deep shadow, a dark and cruel place where I could only watch their performance.
‘…No, this is fine.’
They were happy, their faces bright with genuine smiles. Everyone except me had found their happy ending. As the villain of this story, stepping back was my only role.
A deep emptiness gnawed at me. Emotions I still couldn’t fully grasp. Watching their brightness stirred something dark within—was it jealousy?
I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The person looking back seemed far removed from who I’d been when I first arrived in this world.
I’d played at being an ordinary student, hiding in the academy, but in truth, I was a murderer with blood-stained hands. Knights, professors, and even Sertia, the Empire’s strongest mage, had fallen by my hand.
[Why don’t you kill them?]
Another figure appeared in the mirror beside my reflection—similar to me, yet fundamentally different. Had I finally lost my grip on sanity? Now I saw hallucinations, likely another trick of the Demon King’s fragment.
I turned away, refusing to meet its gaze. Better to ignore it entirely.
[You want to kill them too, don’t you?]
[Remember how you smiled when you killed that woman?]
[Think carefully about what you truly want.]
[How long can you resist the urge to kill?]
My mind is crumbling.