◇
This happened about a week before Fuuka and the others arrived in Kyokuto.
"Hey, Orun."
After defeating the giant beast-type monster that had appeared in the Hitia Duchy, Fuuka spoke up softly.
"Hm? What's up?"
"Aren't you scared of dying?"
"What's with the sudden question… Of course I'm scared of dying. Anyone would be."
Orun answered with a wry smile.
"Then why can you use [Demon Break]? If you mess up the handling, you'll end up killing yourself."
"…I see. So that's what you meant."
Orun noticed the true intent behind Fuuka's question and gave a faint smile.
"Like I said earlier, dying is scary. But more than that—losing something precious is far, far more terrifying."
Orun's gaze grew distant as he continued.
"I've failed to protect what mattered to me twice in the past. Both times, it was because my power wasn't enough… I lost them right in front of me."
His voice carried a quiet resolve laced with pain.
"I'm sick of feeling that way. If risking my own life even slightly raises the chance of protecting what's important, then I'll bet my life without hesitation."
◇
While grimacing from the pain coursing through her entire body, Fuuka recalled that conversation with Orun.
The image of him saying he would risk his life to protect what mattered rose behind her eyelids.
She had called herself 'Orun's sword.' But was she truly living up to that?
Was she protecting what needed to be protected?
Was she carrying out his resolve?
Did she possess a resolve that matched his?
That was when it happened.
A heavy, dull something rose up from deep within her.
The demon blade gripped in Fuuka's right hand trembled slightly.
Then, she felt a presence as if someone were whispering directly into her ear.
'—Pathetic, isn't it?'
It was not a voice. It was a wave of negative emotion that seeped straight into her brain, invading her mind.
'Is this all you've got?'
'Cut. Cut more. Keep cutting, keep cutting, never stop…!'
Anger. Hatred. Fear. Sorrow.
The lingering emotional remnants of the youkai that had been slain by this blade flooded into Fuuka like a torrent.
Normally, even if she could hear them, she would not have minded. If she shifted her focus, they would have been nothing more than background noise.
—But not now.
The pain in her body. The hesitation in her heart.
The voices grew clearer, seizing the opening created by her weakened state.
'You said you worked hard to gain strength, right? And this is the result? How pitiful.'
'You only have talent for cutting things, so what are you hesitating for now?'
'In the end, you're nothing. That's why you call yourself a "sword" to fool yourself, isn't it? How ridiculous.'
"Shut up…"
Fuuka let out a hoarse voice.
But that only made things worse. Even more voices of resentment poured into her.
Fuuka twisted her face in agony as she fought not to be swallowed by the negative emotions.
Then, suddenly, a different voice reached her ears.
"...Is someone there…?"
It was a girl's voice.
Not resentment or an auditory hallucination. It was soft, trembling, and undeniably real.
(…That voice just now…)
Fuuka lifted her face slightly.
And again.
"Um… please… Get me out of here…!"
This time it was clear. It was not a curse—it was a genuine plea for help.
Fuuka forced strength into her unsteady limbs and pushed herself up. Her gaze fell on what had once been her own room.
Beyond the sliding door, a magic-laden presence wavered faintly.
(…She's in there.)
Fuuka walked slowly but steadily toward the door, certain that she was there.
Then, as if shaking off the annoying voices of resentment, she swung her demon blade in a horizontal arc.
The slash tore through the magic covering the room, and with a high-pitched sound, the sliding door split cleanly in two.
Light poured into the room through the opening Fuuka had created.
Beyond the fallen door—in the silence that filled the space—stood a single girl.
In the room that had received no light, the girl looked up at her with a hazy gaze. She must have been desperately trying to get out.
The girl in shrine maiden clothes was battered, both her body and her garments torn and ragged.
Even so—her eyes alone were filled with moisture, like a lost child who had finally found her older sister.
"Fuuka… Big Sister…?"
The owner of the voice looked a little more grown-up than the girl Fuuka remembered.
But there was no mistaking her.
"…It's been a while, Nagisa. We're both pretty beat up, huh."
Fuuka tried to smile, but the pain from the cut on her cheek made her face twitch instead.
Seeing that, Nagisa rose to her feet as if a dam had broken.
She staggered forward, then collapsed into Fuuka's chest.
"Big Sister…!"
It was a cry as if everything that had been bottled up inside had finally snapped.
The small body of Nagisa, clinging to her, was trembling. Suppressed sobs escaped, carrying heat and moisture against Fuuka's chest.
"…I'm sorry, Nagisa. I'm late."
Fuuka tried to wrap her arms around her, but the pain throughout her body prevented her from moving as she wished. Still, she managed to slip one arm around her trembling little sister's back and gently held her close.
"It's okay now. —It's going to be okay…"
Her voice, as if she were trying to convince herself, came out hoarse.
Fuuka gently closed her eyes, as if confirming the warmth of the small life she had finally reclaimed.
Once Nagisa had calmed down, Fuuka spoke.
"Nagisa, there's something I need you to do."
"Y-Yeah! Of course! Even though I was locked in the room, I could vaguely sense what was happening outside… You want me to use my ability to exorcise the monsters, right?"
There was no longer any anxiety in Nagisa's voice.
"That too, but not right now."
Fuuka slowly shook her head.
"Right now—I need your help to cut open the wall standing in my way."
"Wall…? What should I do?"
"I want you to use your ability to connect my ki with the youkai power of the demon blade."
"Eh!? Connecting youkai power and ki is dangerous! If you're not careful, your personality might get swallowed by the demon blade!?"
"I know. But this is what it means to show my resolve."
"...Understood."
Nagisa lowered her face with a pained expression and quietly nodded.
"Big Sister, don't lose to the youkai power, okay?"
"I'll be fine. I am—the Demon King's Sword."
Nagisa activated [Spirit Manipulation].
The next instant, Fuuka felt something from the demon blade entering her body.
◆
When she came to, Fuuka found herself standing in an unfamiliar place.
A pure white horizon devoid of any obstacles, reminiscent of an ice field, stretched out beneath a sky the color of dawn clouds—this was the幽世, the otherworld.
And copper-red mists, reminiscent of blood, drifted around her in several clusters.
'…What do you think you're doing? A mere human woman intends to take our reins?'
'After getting so discouraged over something so trivial, what makes you think you've gained anything?'
Multiple overlapping voices echoed inside her head.
Shouts of anger. Mocking laughter. Curses.
All of them were filled with malice.
Until now, Fuuka had ignored the voices of resentment as mere noise.
But to her now, they no longer sounded like noise.
She had borrowed the power of the demon blade, but she had never stepped inside it.
She had been afraid of being swallowed.
—But she had realized that approach would never let her reach what she needed to.
When she had been defeated by Kiryu and had her own naivety thrown back in her face, she had become aware of the cowardice deep in her heart.
'Foolish girl. Just let yourself be devoured by us already.'
Fuuka took a small breath.
Stepping into the torrent of resentment was still frightening.
But if she did not move forward, there were things she could not protect.
Her country.
Her comrades.
Her little sister.
"…Is that all you wanted to say?"
Fuuka raised her gaze.
There was no longer any hesitation in her eyes.
"Then it's my turn now. Listen."
'…You dare command us? A mere girl who is nothing?'
Fuuka gently closed her eyes, then opened them again.
The flame of resolve burning at the bottom of her heart shone in her gaze.
"—I am the Demon King's Sword. The one who will reclaim this country, walk the path of conquest alongside my comrades, and follow the king."
Her quiet voice melted into the sky of the otherworld.
Yet it clearly shook the copper-red mists.
'Hmph. Even a beast can bark.'
'Regret it while that mouth of yours can still speak, little girl.'
Fuuka took one step toward the center of the mists.
An invisible pressure bore down on her body.
Her breathing grew shallow.
But her eyes remained alive.
"Your power is certainly strong. I won't deny that."
The voices within the mist fell silent.
The words, spoken not with hostility but with understanding, caused the resentment to waver as if in confusion.
"But what have you accomplished with that power? You only scream your grudges, hurt others, and repeat the cycle. There is no meaning in that. You are the ones who are truly nothing."
Fuuka's voice was quiet.
Yet at its core burned a fiery heat.
"I was scared too. I pretended not to see you, only scooping up the surface power when it was convenient. I was afraid of being swallowed by resentment, afraid of losing myself—so I kept running away."
Around the edges of her vision, the copper-red mists swirled.
They stirred as if reacting to Fuuka's words.
"But that was wrong. Using only the superficial power when it suited me, without ever facing you—that cannot be called confronting anything."
Fuuka gripped the demon blade tightly.
"It might be too late, but I will face you now. I will accept all of it—your anger, your hatred, your sorrow—and keep moving forward."
'…What are you saying?'
'You still don't understand how foolish that is.'
"I understand. But I've decided to do it anyway."
A soft ki rose from within Fuuka.
It was a pale cherry-blossom-colored ki, reminiscent of spring.
"I will give meaning to you. Together with you, I will carve open the future. So—lend me your power."
The moment the copper mists touched Fuuka's ki, particles of light scattered.
'…I don't like it, but it's interesting.'
The copper-red vortex slowly, faintly began to take on the pale cherry-blossom hue.
'Very well. We'll lend you our power.'
As if their hearts were changing.
As if their anger was melting away and gaining meaning.
'But don't forget. We are not obedient servants. If you show an opening—'
"—You'll devour me, right?"
Fuuka's lips curved up slightly.
There was no longer any fear there.
Only resolve.
"Bring it on. That makes it more exciting."
The stirring quieted.
The mists of youkai power converged toward Fuuka's body as if guided by the wind.
The copper-red youkai power was dyed pale cherry-blossom and settled within her.