[The Royal Capital of the Elves]
Dead silence.
It was the only way to describe the city. It was not the peace of sleep, but the stillness of a graveyard.
"There are still several hundred life signatures. Mostly hiding in cellars and warehouses. They possess weak magical signatures—civilians," reported the 7th Seat, the "Thousand Leagues Astrologer," opening her eyes.
Born into the Water Scripture, she was a genius of divination. Her talent allowed her to extend her senses far beyond the normal limits of magic. While her accuracy wasn't perfect, she could map an entire city in minutes.
"... I see no trace of the Extra Seat or the Elf King. This is bad, Captain."
Prior to their arrival, The Theocracy had attempted to locate Zesshi via the magical signature of her equipment. The result had been a terrifying void. It was reminiscent of the betrayal of Clementine, who had discarded her gear to evade tracking. But Zesshi would never defect.
(Zesshi... what on earth happened to you?)
The Captain—Will Tru Roland—gripped his spear, trying to suppress the rising tide of anxiety. The open gate of the Royal Castle loomed before them like the maw of a dark beast.
"Initiate the intrusion search," Will commanded.
"Sherry, replay the residual mana. Show us the Extra Seat's movements."
"—[Trace Perception]."
The Astrologer cast the spell.
A ghostly, semi-transparent image flickered into existence. It was a phantom of the past—Zesshi Zetsumei, walking with her characteristic lazy arrogance. The afterimage approached the castle gate, her massive battle scythe blurring as she decapitated the elven guards in a single fluid motion.
She paused over the bloodstains, her mouth moving as if muttering to herself, but the spell could not reproduce sound.
"Accelerate the playback. We need to catch up to the present," Will ordered. "Stres, if we encounter any forest spirits or leftover defenses, eliminate them instantly."
"Understood." The 12th Seat, "Heaven and Earth," nodded and vanished into the shadows to scout ahead.
"Tyr, your priority is Sherry. Do not leave her side."
"Yes."
The 8th Seat, "Cedran"—Tyr Grandaire Cedran—stepped closer to the Astrologer, planting his feet firmly.
He raised the Great Shield of Ten Thousand Walls, a divine artifact bequeathed by the Six Great Gods.
His role was the cornerstone of their survival. While one of his massive shields provided impenetrable physical defense, the other possessed a unique enchantment capable of unleashing high-tier healing magic. If they found Zesshi broken or dying, Cedran would be the one to pull her back from the abyss.
"I'm ready as well," murmured the 5th Seat, "Quinta"—Kein'ai Hasaiya Kuintia.
He flexed his fingers, chains rattling lightly. As the "One-Man Legion," his duty was to flood the battlefield with summoned monsters. Against an entity like the Elf King, his summons would serve as a wall of meat and cannon fodder, buying precious seconds for the heavy hitters to strike.
And behind them all stood Valen, the 3rd Seat. He remained silent, his hand clutching a scroll. His magic was their lifeline; if the situation turned catastrophic, he was responsible for casting the mass teleportation spell that would get them out alive.
The formation was perfect. It was the pinnacle of human tactical warfare.
"Let's go!"
Will brandished his spear, signaling the advance. Without a word, the strongest heroes of humanity surged forward, chasing the accelerated afterimage of death into the darkness of the castle.