I'll kill you after I finish this game!

But it is true that even if it were just to keep someone you care about alive, you couldn't do that if it were Lisa.

Himuro Reia, how can this girl be so calm towards that person?

There's nothing particularly special about it.

Moreover, he values ​​himself more than Lisa.

Why? Why? I don't understand, I don't even know myself.

"Father...? Is that so...?"

As Himuro Reia staggered to the gate, she unknowingly let out those words.

Lingai had heard stories of her father being treated roughly for no reason.

Could my feelings for Valyria be explained this way? But he doesn't seem like a father to me at all, and it's impossible...

"------!"

No, wait a minute.

"correct......"

Himuro Rei finally noticed the tiny boundary that she had somehow overlooked.

If Lisa is your great-grandmother, then who is your great-grandfather?

Who is the father of the child named Yzak in my dream?

In an instant, an uncontrollable flashback of memories assaulted Ling'ai's mind, leaving it blank.

Which one is my father?

I remember that among those three people, one of them was someone I knew, the restaurant owner Gray, who had taken good care of me since I was a child and had never aged.

But... it didn't feel like the other person; this was a shared intuition between Yzak and himself.

So... who are the remaining two?

If we're talking about genetics, it's clear that Ytzhak didn't inherit Lisa's physical features, so it must be a matter of her father's side.

Yzak's hair and eyes are gold, and what has gold in his hair is... is...

Snap!

"Well......"

Ling'ai collapsed to the ground with a thud, falling backward.

The most terrifying images flashed through my mind, and in an attempt to destroy them, I kept smashing my hands against my head.

No, no, that's impossible, and it didn't happen...

"No way, Lisa... just say no, okay..."

Distraught, Ling'ai couldn't believe her own guesses; she was on the verge of collapsing from her knees.

Scattered and broken, it seems like there's no going back.

Fragments of thought, diffused in the panic, illuminated a memory once again.

When I entered the gate in my dream as Yzak, I saw all thirteen Knights of the Black Round Table gathered there.

The throne is adorned with wild beasts, flanked by Mercury and Ophiuchus.

To the right are Makina, Bey, Schreiber, Red Spider, and Tubal Cain.

On the left are Eluneore, who was just here a moment ago, and the Valkyrie who died ten years ago.

Lisa was there, and so was the witch Rusalka.

If we exclude the [Ophiopogon] who is a guest, and include the Sun Princess herself, there are a total of twelve people.

So who is the last person?

Finally, they found it in the unearthed genetic memories...

Next, I will teach you how to conduct yourself in three different situations.

In my memory, who was that man who spoke reason and held my hand? I have absolutely no recollection of him.

Therefore, Yitzhak described him as an unidentified man dressed in monk's robes.

Although they both have blonde hair and similar eyes, their face shapes are completely different.

One was handsome, the other was thin.

The look in his eyes and the blonde hair seemed out of place with his face, as if... as if... the transformation wasn't quite complete yet!

Is that him? Is that the person? Why do they look different?

Who exactly is the third person seated at the Black Round Table, the one with the Holy Communion Cup?

dong dong...

"Ah, ah...uh..."

Suddenly, an unbearable chill and headache swept over her, causing Himuro Reia to tug at her hair, causing blood to trickle from her forehead.

Memory...originates from the blood...

His blood contains the genes of the devil (gold).

Although there is no evidence and it is just inference, thinking about it this way is generally agreeable and comprehensive.

"I...I can't go on living...Ah...Ugh..."

Lingai thought this in horror, but this wish was to die, the motto that brought the demon back to reality.

A desperate cry escaped; no matter what they did, they could not escape Karl Craft's golden alchemy.

But no matter what—Ling'ai has to ask him…

Himuro Rei left the dark room with the black round table, sobbing softly.

Maybe it will all be in vain, maybe I can't do anything.

However, she couldn't simply sit there.

No matter what happens, Ling'ai cannot allow herself to bring devastating trouble to everyone...

She walked unsteadily down the stone corridor, feeling a sense of self-awareness.

Indeed, Lisa, who was very angry back then, doesn't seem to show any of that now.

There's just nothing I can do, and it's very upsetting...

Lisa wants to offer Ling her soul, but she doesn't want to deny her own choices from the root, right?

------

On the other side, in the deep cosmos, in a star field four hundred light-years away from the solar system.

At this moment, the changes of all phenomena and laws cannot be felt here. If any living being were to enter this place, they would be able to sense the aura of end and death that transcends the black hole.

At this moment, the place is filled with the atmosphere of war and steel; it is very quiet and frightening.

Even with countless stars dotting the dark universe, no sign of life can be felt in this star field.

Tranquility, like a coffin in peace...

"Boom—Boom—Bang—!"

In the deadly silence of the dark storm, two figures mocking the speed of light were locked in a fierce battle.

In this environment, the combatants looked like living corpses, since the atmosphere here easily evoked that kind of thing.

The eternal struggle unfolds here.

"Honestly, when Makina gets serious, he can't find an opportunity to strike."

With a cigar dangling from her lips, Elunere stood atop a meteorite, watching the battle she couldn't intervene in, observing the Onmyoji with great interest.

After receiving the message from his own mental projection, he smiled knowingly, removed the cigar from his mouth, exhaled a smoke ring, and whispered:

"We're almost there. Let's finish him off quickly, Makina. We have important business to attend to."

His words were filled with an unquestionable trust in the abilities of his colleagues.

He sent a message to Makina, who was fighting at night in Modoro, urging him to quickly eliminate the enemy.

It's not that I'm asking a question, but the strength and characteristics of the Iron Fist within the Black Round Table are acknowledged even by the leaders, vice leaders, and the entire Black Round Table.

Upon receiving the information, Makina's face remained unchanged, as deathly pale as ever.

His entire being, the place where he was fighting his enemy, was the boundary of "nothingness," the dividing line between life and death.

This is his arena and his battlefield, where he and his enemies compete.

"End it. Your prized skills are useless, because what can crush all skills is called—power!"

The low proclamation, like the voice of the dead emanating from a coffin, defied the physical rule that sound cannot travel through a vacuum, transforming into the voice of death that pierced through the panting soul of Modoro Nightwalker.

Clap————

A crisp sound of a fist clenching rang out, followed by the fact that even space itself was easily crushed like paper. The fist, carrying incomprehensible mass, directly shattered the outer shell of Modoro Nightwalker and ruptured his internal organs.

Boom!

The fist, imbued with grand destruction and death, smashed through the body like a block of steel. Nightwalker's supermassive blood exploded, and his spine, internal organs, and ribs were all blasted away.

This shows just how terrifying Makina's seemingly simple punch really was.

died!

The sheer density of death that evokes such a powerful image is such that even before creation is initiated, a mere punch striking the target can directly strike the enemy's soul.

"Ugh...this feels so good!!!"

Ye Xing vomited blood and was blasted away, smashing through one celestial body after another. However, the mandala within his body bloomed again amidst the roar, and the divine incantation he wove pulled him back from the brink of death.

A mad, sinister smile, unbecoming of his refined demeanor, tugged at the corners of his mouth. Ah... this is the feeling! Under this feeling, progress is tens of millions of times faster than any tedious cultivation.

Because they could feel that they would die at any moment, the desire not to die blasted open the floodgates of their potential one after another.

"Do you think my skills are so easily crushed!?"

With his third eye fixed on the steel arm, Modoro Nightwalker laughed maniacally like a battle mage, forming hand seals and then slamming one hand down on the enemy, unleashing a devastating attack on Makina!