Chapter 20

  From The Start

  And what Casca brought to Diablo—the very first innovation that sparked the Demon King’s awareness of the value of innovation itself—was the floating buoy.

  Leviathan had truly returned after its last strike against the isle. But this time, Diablo did not respond like simple villagers. This time, they knew it was coming ten minutes in advance—thanks to the buoys.

  When the colossal beast rose, maw yawning wide to swallow the Diablos whole…

  Its eyes widened, sensing the most dangerous being it had encountered in a hundred years.

  This time, Prince Fury had already been warned by the defense system. He was waiting at the shore.

  “At last we meet, you coward.”

  His fist, suspended in the air, crashed straight into Leviathan’s eye with the force of years of pent-up vengeance.

  The eyeball burst apart in a spray of crimson flesh.

  At once, the cry of the Diablos rose, and their finest warriors charged the monster without fear of death.

  Of course, when the game changed, Leviathan fled back to the water. Its titanic body shook the soldiers loose with ease.

  But Fury’s fangs drove deep into its flesh. His strength ripped chunks from its hide, his crimson eyes glowing, his aura blazing blood-red with fury.

  The beast plunged back into the sea. The buoys were torn adrift, their anchors ripped free by the monstrous currents. Leviathan shrieked low and guttural, gnashing at anything nearby.

  Fury drove straight into its body.

  Just as the monster sank—

  “Your Highness!”

  A bolt of radiant gold lightning split the storm-gray sky, lancing straight into Leviathan’s body.

  Every Diablo soldier, even Freya, gasped.

  It was the holy magic of Casca Saint Maximin.

  She ran along the monster’s back, sword buried in its flesh, carving upward from its tail toward its blowhole. A geyser of blood marked her path.

  Holy magic, when turned against demons or beasts, struck with tenfold power. Leviathan’s eyes rolled white. Casca didn’t need to interfere. But she had volunteered to kill it.

  She joined forces with Fury. Leaping high, she used his gigantic body as her springboard.

  As Fury unleashed his final blow, the beast’s gut ruptured with a thunderous explosion. Casca’s golden blade spun in the air, descending in a single straight slash.

  Leviathan’s head severed cleanly in one strike.

  Freya saw it with her own eyes. The Diablo soldiers relived their nightmares.

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  That golden sword sliced through everything as if it were butter—no tearing flesh, no shattering bone, just smooth, impossible division. Only those who had faced it before could understand.

  BOOOM!!!

  The headless Leviathan crashed into the sea, spawning a tsunami that surged toward the isle.

  Prince Fury plunged with it.

  He was not made for the water.

  Muscle-bound to the core, he could not float. He flailed, forcing himself upward toward the surface. Casca dove after him, arms crossed, legs straight, her body cutting the water.

  She saw him sinking. Without hesitation, she swam hard, seized him, and with holy strength hauled him upward.

  At that moment, Freya and the swimming Diablos reached them too.

  They broke the surface.

  Fury choked seawater from his vents, sputtering like a drowned insect forced to clear its airway.

  It was a struggle, but Freya hauled him ashore.

  Casca surfaced just after, turning back to see the headless carcass of Leviathan bobbing lifeless in the waves.

  Then came the roar of the Diablos.

  She had done it.

  Casca had solved the unsolvable with the innovation of humankind.

  This was the first step. The seed of a bond. And in time, this would open Diablo’s eyes—forcing them to realize they must open their nation.

  “What’s the moral of the story?”

  “That Mr.Fury can’t swim.”

  “…You’re focusing on the wrong thing.”

  “Not wrong at all.”

  “Nora… ??”

  “If you can’t swim, how do you survive? Aren’t there mages who control water? Don’t they know?”

  “Look under the table. What do you see?”

  Nora peered down.

  “Nothing, Mr.Fury.”

  “Look carefully.”

  “Besides your trousers and Lady Casca’s sandals…”

  “You see my trousers, which means you see my legs, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s the answer. I have legs. Why would I stay in water to be drowned? I run.”

  “…Wow.”

  Nora sat back up.

  “You could’ve just answered nicely. No need for the sarcasm.”

  “Mind your words, Nora.”

  Casca looped an arm around Dan’s shoulder.

  “Don’t talk about water. He doesn’t like it.”

  “I don’t dislike it.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes! Why harp on it? So I can’t swim—so what? What’s funny about that?”

  “No one’s laughing, Mr.Fury…”

  “Good.”

  …Clear enough he hated it.

  Then—the lunch bell rang.

  “Huh?! Already? I’ve had less than three bites!”

  “Your fault for being late, Zeedee. Here, take my apple.”

  “Princess Nora, it’s time for class.”

  Her servant opened the door. It would be bad if she saw Casca Saint Maximin here. But when Nora turned back—Lady of Light was gone.

  Don’t worry. My wife is fine.

  Dan’s eyes seemed to say.

  He tied up his tiffin box neatly, wiped his mouth.

  “Let’s head to afternoon class.”

  “Mr.Fury.”

  “?”

  “After that… what happened?”

  “What happened?”

  What Casca had done was no small feat. It was proof—proof that she could earn her place.

  “This is… fascinating…”

  Everton inspected the wreckage of the buoys washed ashore.

  “Incredible that such flimsy things could do this.”

  Casca glanced at Freya’s battered unit. They looked deflated, avoiding her eyes.

  “Thank you.”

  “…Fury?”

  The only Diablo bold enough to approach her was behind her now. Dry at last, armored only in shell.

  “Nothing special.”

  Casca stuck her pinky in her ear, flicking out water, shaking her damp hair.

  “Tell me it won’t happen again.”

  “On land, I’ve cleared them all.”

  “Yes, yes, mighty prince.”

  “I mean it.”

  “You’re crown prince, yet you can’t swim? How’s that?”

  Gasps of shock ran through the Diablos nearby. None dared speak to Fury that way—none without their guts spilled. But—

  “At least I have a home to sleep in. Unlike you.”

  “What did you say!?”

  Casca leapt and kicked Fury, his booming laugh ringing out.

  All before Everton—and another important figure.

  Fury’s sister. Fiorentina.

  She had seen something in this scene. And Fiorentina would act—stretching Casca’s five-month stay to a year. And from a year… longer still.

  “So Mr.Fury’s sister made Lady Casca stay longer?”

  Nora couldn’t take her eyes off Dan’s face, even as they climbed the sloping path to their next class.

  “Seems so.”

  “‘Seems so’? What does that mean? Stop holding back.”

  There was little known of Everton. But compared to Fiorentina, he was an open book. No one knew a thing of her.

  Fury had once told Nora—

  My sister manages internal security.

  “You said once—true power lies in shadow. Those were your words.”

  “I don’t recall.”

  “You do recall, Mr.Fury. Don’t play dumb.”

  “I really don’t. Why would I tell you something that important?”

  “Because I’m your favorite.”

  “You’re arrogant. Maybe delusional?”

  “What ability does your sister have to control the nation’s security alone? Everton’s brains can’t be enough.”

  “You’re right. It takes more than that. But I won’t tell you.”

  “How do I make you soften? Tell me, Mr.Fury.”

  “The only one who can soften me is my wife.”

  “Ugh.”

  Nora turned her face away from his flicking finger.

  “I told you not to act like Freya.”

  “That’s treason, Mr.Fury.”

  “Snowhaven’s just a fridge. I’m not afraid.”

  “A fridge, really~”

  flick

  “Ow!”

  They reached the classroom door. Dan gripped the knob.

  “But if Everton’s walking about now, then my sister won’t stay hidden either.”

  “Mr.Fury… you don’t know?”

  “Look at what they do. Do they ever consult me?”

  He opened the door.

  “Fiorentina’s watching you, Nora. Believe me.”