CONTENTS

At dusk, the Black Cat’s Yawn was bustling with people taking an early supper.

“Your order, sir!”

A plump, middle-aged woman—she looked like she must be the proprietress—set down a plate on one of the outdoor tables. It was laden with the tavern’s specialty: white fish filet boiled with vegetables and topped with melted cheese.

“Thanks.”

A pair clad in knight’s armor smiled up at her. One of them was a boy with blond hair that stuck out in all directions; the other, a heavy-set adult.

“Looks delicious,” said the boy, darting his fork out to skewer the filet.

“Stop that!” said the older man. “This is my order! Wait for your pork sauté!”

“Come on, just a little. You can have some of mine.”

“Whenever you say that, Chief, you just take everything! I don’t even like pork. Anyway, this one is mine!” The man picked up his plate with both hands and held it above his head.

At the same time, a small black shape pranced lightly off the low brick wall between the seating area and the garden.

“Yikes!”

The shape landed for a moment on the man’s plate, then hopped nimbly to the ground.

“Augh! Hot, hot, hot!” The man was so surprised he let go of his plate, spilling sauce and cheese all over his head.

“Whoa!” The boy pointed to the floor. “Hey, King, that cat got you good.”

The man, King, turned around to find a big black cat. The fish that had been on King’s plate a moment before was dangling from its mouth.

“Hey! Give that back!”

“What’re you gonna do if you get it back?” the boy said, laughing. “You can’t eat it now.”

The black cat stared up at King with a mine now look plastered on its face.

“A stray cat like this needs to get some sense beaten into it.” Furious, King stood up and advanced toward the cat, his face still covered in cheese. But the cat didn’t run. On the contrary, it suddenly turned towards him and charged.

“?!”

It happened in the blink of an eye. The cat ran up King’s legs and onto his shoulder, forcefully dug its claws into his face, and jumped back onto the wall.

“Aughhh!!” King’s scream echoed through the tavern. The other diners, who’d been watching attentively, burst into peals of laughter.

1

About a dozen people were gathered on a stretch of bare, rocky land a mile away from the royal capital of Liones Kingdom.

The majority were young Holy Knight apprentices, clad in light practice armor. They were lined up in a semi-circle observing a boy who stood in the center.

The boy must have been about thirteen or fourteen. He held a club at an angle in front of his face and stared straight ahead with a determined look in his eyes. The object of his gaze was a large boulder resting on the ground, so big that even four adults wouldn’t be able to wrap their arms around it.

The boy lowered the tip of his club down almost to the ground and a whirlwind rose up from the spot with a fwoosh.

He slowly waved his club, articulating a horizontal figure eight with the tip. The whirlwind gradually grew bigger and started to spin faster.

With a “Hah!” he sent the howling whirlwind—it could easily be called a tornado at this point—rushing straight forward, where it encircled the enormous rock. It shattered instantaneously with a thunderous roar, but amazingly, none of the pieces came flying out of the whirlwind.

“Wow!” the others cheered.

The boy gently lowered his club, and the tornado gradually died down, leaving a mound of pebbles that used to be the boulder in its place.

“Well done, Howzer,” called one of the onlookers, a man in the prime of his life with a splendid physique. He sounded satisfied.

The boy who had been called Howzer turned around, looking proud of himself. “Thank you, Captain Dreyfus!”

“Your control is very good. You used to just strike out at random, but it seems you’ve matured. Griamore, take note.” Dreyfus directed this last remark at his son, who stood diagonally behind him.

The dark-haired boy, who looked like his father, hunched his large body over. “I-I’m sorry, Da—I mean, Captain.”

“Well, but Griamore’s progress recently has been remarkable as well,” Holy Knight Dale gently cut in. Dale was one of the coaches for today’s training.

Dreyfus, however, shook his head. “But he’s been inconsistent since he was a kid. If a knight can’t keep up a stable stream of defense magic, it can prove fatal. You should be working him harder than that. And Gilthunder, this goes for you too.”

“Yes, sir.” Gilthunder, who stood next to Griamore, lowered his eyes and bowed his head.

“You haven’t been progressing as fast as we expected lately. Your swordsmanship is weak. If my brother could see you now, he’d be disappointed.”

“Understood, sir. I’ll work hard so as not to disgrace my father’s name.”

“You’re too hard on your relatives, Captain Dreyfus,” another one of today’s coaches, Nicholas, cut in with a laugh. He was a giant who towered over even Dreyfus. “Your son and your nephew have both been doing fine work. This group you saw today is made up of by far the sharpest and strongest of all the Holy Knight apprentices. All they need is some real combat experience, and in one or two years they’ll be plenty skilled enough to be called proper Holy Knights.”

“Aye.” Dreyfus nodded. “They’re certainly promising. I’m counting on you to train them well.”

Dale and Nicholas gave their captain a sharp salute, then turned back to their young charges. “All right, break up into pairs again. Since the captain will continue to observe us, be on your best performance, everyone.”

“Yes, sir!” The Holy Knights-in-training formed into the same pairs as before and spread out across the training ground.

“Hold up, Howzer,” Dreyfus called to the boy who had just demonstrated the impeccable wind magic.

Howzer had been about to run off with Gustaf, his training partner for the day, but he froze mid-step, surprised. “Yes, sir! What’s up, Captain?”

Dreyfus strolled over to Howzer and apprised the club the boy was holding. “You’re still using that?”

“Yes…?”

Most of the Holy Knight apprentices came from families who held knight status, but Howzer, odd one out, was a commoner. The big difference between commoners and knights was that knights were allowed to carry swords in public, while commoners were not. Since Howzer hadn’t been officially recognized as a knight yet, he usually used a club or blunt sword during training, too. In contrast Gustaf, though he was the same age as Howzer and stood next to him on the same training ground, was the eldest son of a knight family and had always owned his own real sword.

“That club is no longer adequate for drawing out your magical potential. I hereby authorize you to carry swords. I expect you to come back tomorrow with a real sword to practice with.”

“F-For real?”

“Mm-hm.” Dreyfus nodded magnanimously. “As a Holy Knight, your weapon is an extension of your body. Each weapon is different, and some will be more suited than others to your magical abilities, talents, and physical build. Think carefully about what will best bring out your strength.”

“Y-Yes, sir! Thank you, sir! Wahoo!” Howzer literally jumped for joy, waving his club high up in the air.

2

“Mom! Mom! Gimme the key to the storeroom!”

Howzer was shouting the moment he ran into the shop.

The shop in question was the blacksmith’s on the western edge of the capital—Howzer’s house.

His mother looked up from where she was wiping down the negotiating table in the middle of the room. “Excuse me, young man?” she admonished. “Don’t I even get a ‘hello’?”

But Howzer just galloped over to her, paying no heed to her tone. “Mom, guess what? I was acknowledged by Captain Dreyfus! He said I’m allowed to carry a sword!”

“What? Really?!” His mother’s eyes opened wide in surprise. “So you…you’re really going to be a Holy Knight? It’s really possible?”

“ ’Course it is!” Howzer puffed out his chest. “Being allowed to carry a sword means I’m already on the same level as a knight! I’ve still got to prove my strength in real combat before I become a Holy Knight, but I mean, that’s only a matter of time now!”

“Well, I’ll say!” his mother enthused, looking him over as if seeing him anew. “My little boy who used to do nothing but fight every day and never did any chores—I thought you were headed straight down the path to becoming the town outcast. But now you’re going to be a Holy Knight!”

“Mom, I get it already! Can I just have the key?”

“The key?” Coming back to herself, his mother reached into the front pocket of her apron and pulled out her ring of keys.

Impatient, Howzer grabbed it right out of her hands. “I’m gonna pick out one of Pops’ swords!”

He ran through the shop room in a flash and rushed out through the wooden back gate into the courtyard.

His father Raizer’s workshop stood on the far side of the yard. One half of the building, facing the canal that ran along the right side of the yard, was the workroom with the furnace. As always, Howzer could hear the systematic banging of a hammer through the wide-open doors.

But rather than the workroom, Hozwer headed straight for the door on the left of the building. He inserted the key in the lock hanging from the latch and opened the door with bated breath.

Inside was the storeroom where Howzer’s father kept the weapons he’d forged. Most of them already had buyers and were just being held temporarily, but some were not.

“Hmm, where is it…” Howzer walked around the storeroom and started rummaging through the shelves.

He was looking for a longsword that his father had forged a few years ago. It had seemed to be his father’s pride and joy: Howzer remembered how when he finished the sword, Raizer unch­aracteris­tically called Howzer and his mother outside to show them how well it had come out.

But it had yet to attract a buyer, and it should still have been tucked away somewhere.

“Crap!”

While Howzer was searching the shelves and wooden crates with a bit too much gusto, he accidentally knocked over several spears leaning against the wall. He started returning them to their places, but one of them felt a little strange when he picked it up. He stared at the shaft.

What the…Like it’s stuck to my hand…

He opened his palm to check if there was something coating the shaft. But there wasn’t.

Just my imagination?

He put the spear back against the wall with the rest of them, then started searching the shelves again.

“Here it is!”

He finally found the longsword he was looking for and pulled the blade from its black leather sheath. Even in the dim light of the storeroom, it shone brightly, as if light were coming from the blade itself.

“Wow, so cool!” He gripped the hilt with both hands and gazed at the blade, transfixed.

Longswords were practically a symbol of the knights. They were his father’s specialty when it came to weapons, and what was more, Howzer’s idolized Captain Dreyfus was famous for wielding them.

“What are you doing, Howzer?”

Howzer jumped at the sudden sound of his father’s voice behind him.

He turned to find his father, drenched in sweat from working.

“Pops…”

He almost tried to hide the sword behind him, like he used to when he was caught misbehaving as a kid, but then he remembered himself. Of course, there was no need to be secretive anymore.

“Pops, Captain Dreyfus gave me permission to start carrying swords today. So let me have this sword. All this time, I’ve—”

“That’s not the right weapon for you,” his father muttered.

That ticked Howzer off. “What does that mean?! Are you saying I’m not worthy of it?”

“I don’t care if you use it.” His father’s face, half obscured by a thick beard, was also being backlit by the sun coming in through the doorway in which he stood, and Howzer couldn’t read his expression. His hair, the same golden brown as Howzer’s, was shiny with sweat.

“What?”

“I don’t care if you use it. If something like that is good enough. Do what you like.” His father turned indifferently and ambled away. “Your mother says dinner’s ready,” he announced as an afterthought, his voice already far away.

3

“Darn it, why won’t it work?” Howzer gritted his teeth and glared at the boulder in front of him.

It was the next day. He’d appeared at the training ground, coveted longsword triumphantly in hand, and called his peers over, bragging about how he was going to pulverize a boulder twice as big as the day before, but…

“What the heck?” However many times he tried, he couldn’t get the hang of it.

Then again, there was no mistaking that the amount of magic he could release was much higher than what he’d been able to muster with the club. For some reason, though, it felt like it was all leaking out through both edges of the longsword.

As a result, although the whirlwind Howzer conjured was several times larger than yesterday, it was hopelessly scattered. His friends had to run about for cover, and the whole scene had turned into a huge mess.

“Ugh! Why?!”

“Just cut it out, Howzer!”

The training ground was enveloped in thick dust that the tornado stirred up, and stones of all sizes were raining down on their heads. Griamore unleashed his magic wall to shield some of the apprentices; a sphere of light expanded out from where he stood and repelled the wind and rocks.

“Shut it. I’m trying again!”

“Doing it again won’t change anything, Howzer,” Gilthunder said calmly.

Howzer turned to him with an annoyed look on his face. “What does that mean, Gil?”

“It might be the problem.” Gilthunder pointed at the longsword in Howzer’s hand. “Maybe it’s not a good fit for you.”

“…!”

That’s not the right weapon for you.

Gilthunder’s voice seemed to echo what his father had said yesterday.

Howzer burst out before he could stop, glaring at Gilthunder. “Are you saying I’m not fit to be a knight? Is that it?”

Gilthunder shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. It’s just…”

A beautiful longsword rested in Gilthunder’s hand. It was one that Howzer’s father had forged.

Howzer looked at Griamore, who stood across the training ground. The longsword that hung from his waist had been passed down to him from his father, Dreyfus.

Bitter aggravation rose up from deep inside Howzer. “Whatever,” he spat. “I’m going home!”

“Howzer!”

Gilthunder and the others all called out his name. But Howzer ignored them, sprinting from the training ground without even looking back.

4

The long stretch of bars and restaurants called Drunkard’s Way was even more lively than usual in anticipation of the Summer Solstice Festival next week.

Liones royal banners and summer solstice flower wreaths hung from eaves; food carts and stalls lined the usually bare roadside, and foot traffic was dense. Although the persistent summer sun was still high in the sky, the bells signaling the hour had just struck eight o’clock in the evening. It was already time for dinner.

“Looks crowded in there,” Howzer muttered with a sigh. Too upset to go home, he had been wandering aimlessly around the castle town, but now his usual haunt, the Black Cat’s Yawn, appeared to be full.

“Oh, is that Howzer?” the tavern’s proprietress called out to him as he was peeking through the entrance to check if there were any open tables.

“There aren’t any tables, are there, ma’am?”

“Hmm, we are pretty full today. Would you mind a shared table?” She pointed toward the outdoor seating area. Indeed, Howzer could see a girl his age sitting alone at one of the two-person tables.

The girl looked over at them and piped up.

“Oh, Howzer! It’s been such a long time.”

“What’s this now—you two know each other? Well then, go sit down!” Laughing, the proprietress pushed Howzer over to the table and then disappeared back inside the tavern.

“Er…who are you again?” Howzer sat down reluctantly, scrutinizing the girl’s face. Her frizzy red hair was pulled back in two short braids. He was sure he’d seen her somewhere before…

“You can’t tell? I’m Grace, from the medicine shop.”

“Oh, the one on the corner of Birch Street!”

Now he remembered. She was the second daughter of the family that ran the big medicine shop near his house. She was a year older than him. They had played together sometimes when they were very little, but they hadn’t spoken at all in the years since, and Howzer had completely forgotten about her.

“I see you around at the castle sometimes,” Grace said. “You used to just be a bossy kid but seem to be doing well for yourself these days.”

The proprietress herself came by, and Howzer ordered his favorite, roasted chicken thigh. Turning back to Grace, he asked, “At the castle? Are you working there now?”

“Yeah, since this spring. I wait on Princess Margaret.”

“Huh. Is Her Highness well?”

Howzer had asked the question casually, but Grace’s face clouded over.

“Yes…But, well—Howzer, you’ve been training at the castle for a while now, right?”

“Hm? Yeah, for about…five years? Maybe a little more.” He counted the years on his fingers.

“Is it true that Princess Margaret used to be more cheerful?”

“Uh, maybe? I dunno that much about the princesses. I bet Gilthunder would, though.”

“Oh?! Howzer, are you friends with Lord Gilthunder?” Grace leaned forward suddenly, and Howzer was startled by her sudden interest.

“Um, yeah. Kinda.”

“Gilthunder also used to be a more cheerful person, right?”

“Huh?” Howzer had no idea why Grace was asking, but he thought over the question anyway. “Now that you mention it, I guess so.”

“Do you know what happened?”

“What happened? Well, duh,” said Howzer, slightly taken aback. “Who wouldn’t react that way to something like that happening to his father? And with the Seven Deadly Sins being the ones behind it—that’s not something you just bounce back from.”

“Did Lord Gilthunder have some connection with the Seven Deadly Sins?”

Howzer grimaced at Grace’s persistent interrogation. “When Gilthunder was a little kid, Meliodas, the leader of the Seven Deadly Sins, used to teach him swordsmanship sometimes. After his own teacher went and killed his father, well, it’s no wonder he’s lost a little faith in people.”

Gilthunder never seemed to want to talk about it, and Howzer himself had always been a bit wary of the famed strongest order of Holy Knights, so the topic rarely came up.

“And I mean, he’s always been an overly serious guy. I’m sure he’s just focused on becoming a Holy Knight right now. Maybe so he can avenge his father.”

As he was speaking, Howzer thought back to the scene he’d made at the training ground earlier and started to regret his own behavior. He felt embarrassed about having taken his anger out on Gilthunder, who hadn’t done anything to deserve it.

“I’m not particularly worried. He’s not the sort of guy who messes up,” Howzer insisted with some passion.

But Grace just said, “I see,” and lowered her eyes, apparently lost in thought.

The proprietress returned with a plate of roasted chicken. “Here you go,” she said, setting the plate down on the table.

“Yummm, looks delicious!” Relieved by the change of topic, Howzer reached for his chow.

But then—

A small black shape sprang to life atop the adjacent low brick wall separating the seating area from the garden.

“Huh?!”

A big black cat suddenly leapt down onto the table. It tried to snatch the chicken from Howzer’s plate.

“Hold it, you bastard!” Howzer reached out quick as lightning and lifted the cat up by the scruff of its neck. “You have some nerve trying to swipe my dinner.”

The cat kicked its limbs around wildly, but could do nothing to break free suspended in Howzer’s solid grasp.

—Nice catch, lad!

—That stray cat is infamous around here.

The other patrons cheered raucously.

The proprietress smiled. “Well, well, looks like our stray cat’s finally been caught.”

“Has it been causing you trouble? What should I do with it?” Howzer held the cat out to her.

“Ma’am, let’s off that rascal.” A drunk had stumbled over from one of the indoor seats. “That cat’s stolen from me way too many times, and I’m pissed. Give it here, boy.”

The man’s arrogant attitude rubbed Howzer the wrong way. “Hold on. I’m the one who caught it, and this is this lady’s tavern. It’s none of your business what we do with the cat.”

“…d’you say?” the man slurred, growing angry.

The other diners all started chiming in.

—Yeah, kill the rascal!

—No, leave the poor cat alone.

“Now, now. Calm down,” said the proprietress, stepping between Howzer and the man with a chuckle. “This cat has certainly caused us quite a bit of trouble, but after all these years I’ve gotten strangely attached to him. This tavern is called the Black Cat’s Yawn, after all—and he’s pretty cute if you actually look at him…”

“I-I agree, ma’am,” Grace added from behind. “Um, by the way, I could take him, if you want. He might be able to help with a rat problem back at my house.” She tried to scoop the cat into her arms.

But the cat, even dangling in the air as it was, let out a menacing hiss and lashed out at her with both front paws.

“Hey, cool it!” Howzer said to the cat, hastily trying to pull it away from Grace. But Grace just stretched her arms out further.

“Ack!”

While they were going back and forth, Howzer’s grip loosened for a moment. The cat saw its chance and twisted right out of his grasp, landing upright on the floor. It shot like an arrow through the tavern and disappeared into the street.

“I-I’m sorry!” Grace said, instinctively apologizing to Howzer, the proprietress, and everyone else in the tavern.

But the drunken patron from before flared up at her.

“What’d you do that for, little missy? Huh?!”

“It’s not her fault,” Howzer cut in. “I’m to blame for not holding him tighter. If you’re going to complain, do it to me.” He glared scathingly, and the man backed down, hunching and lowering his eyes.

“Wh-Whatever. It’s just one stinking cat…” he mumbled as he hurried out of the establishment.

After a moment, the tension in the tavern dissipated with a collective sigh, and the lively atmosphere returned.

“Maybe this time that cat’ll learn to stop messing with everyone’s food…”

“Oh, but he’s getting old now. He used to be downright uncatchable!”

The regular customers laughed, as did the proprietress.

“That reminds me,” she said. “Do you guys remember that Holy Knight a few years back who kept getting done over by that cat?”

“Yeah, yeah! That cat really got him good!”

Another burst of laughter. Howzer and Grace exchanged a look.

“A Holy Knight? Done over by a cat?”

“Yep. He was a heavy fellow, and he was always getting his food stolen by that cat.”

“He’d chase it around, but the cat would just mess with him, and he’d usually end up scratched.”

“Was he really a Holy Knight?” Howzer was shocked. But the proprietress and the men just guffawed.

“That’s what we asked ourselves, too, in the beginning.”

“Mm-hm. But that one time was really something…”

“That one time?” Grace asked.

The group of regulars launched into the anecdote together.

“A bad sort of drunk came in one day, right? And after getting into a quarrel with a girl who was working here at the time, he tried to drag her outside with him.”

“He was huge, and what’s more, he was brandishing a knife, so there was nothing anyone could do to help.”

“But then, that fellow who was always getting done over by the cat…”

The regulars described how all of a sudden, the knight leapt nimbly through the air and, with an enormous spear—“I don’t know where he pulled it from”—pinned the man to the floor.

“A spear…” gasped Howzer.

If no one had known where it was hidden, that meant it had been a magical weapon. And if that man had been able to master it, and to fly through the air, he really had been a Holy Knight.

“It was an amazing spear. He said it was what let him unleash his full magical power.”

“I guess he meant he wasn’t going to use that kind of magic on some cat.”

“Even if that’s true, though, he was such a klutz without it.”

“Wahahaha!” the men all laughed.

“I haven’t seen him around lately. I wonder if he went away on some distant assignment.”

“Wasn’t there a rumor that he was one of the Seven Deadly Sins?”

“He looked a lot like one of the guys on the wanted posters, but his face wasn’t so wicked. He was always smiling.”

“Yeah. And if he’d been one of the Seven Deadly Sins, he would’ve been able to best that cat, even barehanded, don’t you think?”

That drew another burst of laughter from everyone. But Howzer wasn’t listening anymore.

“A spear…”

“Howzer, what’s wrong? Your chicken is cold—want me to make you another?”

“Howzer?”

Howzer shook his head absently at the women. He pulled a silver coin from his breast pocket, handed it to the proprietress, and rushed out of the tavern.

5

“Mom! The storeroom key!”

Just like the day before, Howzer burst shouting into the shop. He snatched the keys right out of his mother’s hands and made a beeline for the storeroom.

Bursting in, he ran to the wall and grabbed one of the spears that he’d knocked over last time.

“…”

Again, he felt like the spear was being sucked against his hand.

He carried it outside.

There was a wide clearing behind the workshop, past the left side of the building. It was standard practice to not build other houses near a blacksmith’s, so that in the unlikely event of an accident, neighbors wouldn’t be affected.

Boxes full of raw ore and firewood and coal were piled along one edge of the lot. Howzer held his spear ready and fixed his aim on one of the wooden crates.

“…”

Gripping the shaft in his right hand, he could clearly feel the magic spiraling through the spear. It pulled in the surrounding air, which in an instant surged out from the tip and formed into a small whirlwind.

“…”

It felt as if the weapon and his arm had become one. He could see the path that led from the spear straight to the center of his magic.

“Is this the one?”

He raised it over his head at an angle. The small but fearsomely agile whirlwind followed the exact trajectory that Howzer imagined, blowing up small stones in its path, and the crate he was aiming for was smashed to bits in an instant.

“…”

Howzer just stood there for a moment, watching the chunks of ore scatter.

“Is that your answer?”

It was his father’s voice.

Howzer turned to find Raizer standing behind him, work clothes covered in sweat. Howzer panicked for a moment, trying to explain himself.

“Sorry for messing up your materials! But—”

“Don’t worry about it.”

His father slowly walked over to Howzer and touched the spear he was holding. Howzer handed it to Raizer, who inspected the tip with narrowed eyes.

“It’s cracked.”

“Huh?” Howzer looked too to find that there was indeed a small notch on the blade’s edge.

“Weapons are made to suit the individuals who use them. That’s especially true for Holy Knights. I’m just a layman’s blacksmith, so I can’t make the special weapons that high-ranking Holy Knights wield. That’s the magicians’ domain.”

“Pops…”

“And your magic is at that level now.”

“Can’t I fight with a sword that you made?” Howzer said, but then startled at his own words.

Somewhere along the way, he had convinced himself that fighting with his father’s sword would earn his approval.

His whole life, Howzer had been nothing but defiant, running off to do his own thing with no intention of taking over the shop, and he’d thought his father hadn’t forgiven him. Howzer must have unconsciously thought that using his father’s sword would redeem his irresponsible childhood and that his father wouldn’t approve of his choices otherwise.

But his father broke into a satisfied smile behind his beard. “You’ve become a fine young man, Howzer. Surely Captain Dreyfus or His Majesty the King will find a spear for you.”

“Pops…” Howzer stared dumbly at his father for a moment, then suddenly reached to remove the sword at his hip. “Y-You can have this back.”

“No, you keep it. Maybe you’ll never use it in battle, but a knight should always have a sword at his waist.”

Raizer turned his back and returned to his workshop without a second glance.

Howzer watched his father’s receding figure. After a moment, he placed his hand on the sword at his hip and let his face, which looked just like his father’s, fall into an embarrassed smile.

“—What a pain! Why do I have to do this?” a hulking man complained, his silver hair spilling over his shoulders as he shook an iron frying pan with one hand.

“The loser of the bet has to do whatever the other says. That was the deal.”

The kitchen was considerably large and splendid, but it looked terribly cramped thanks to the man, who stood almost seven feet tall. Moreover, another stately figure, a woman, was directing him on all manner of things.

That wasn’t all.

“Wait, Ban. What kind of meat did you just add?”

The top half of a frightfully large armored knight was poking in from the doorway that connected the kitchen to the backyard. He seemed unable to fit his whole body into the room.

“Huh? It’s the meat of a gray wild rabbit.”

“In the recipe, it’s supposed to be a pulled rabbit.”

“There are none around here. So instead ♪” The man called Ban didn’t rest his hands as he spoke in his singsong voice. He roughly chopped a yellow fruit, skin and all, and began to pulverize it with a marble mortar and pestle.

“Is that a cirin fruit?” the woman asked.

Ban nodded and said, “Yup, you got it ♪”

“Wait, Ban. That’s also more than the recipe calls for,” the armored knight objected again.

Ban responded with irritation. “The Chief likes it. Besides, gray wild rabbits have a stronger flavor than pulled rabbits, so it’s perfect if you add a little more cirin.”

“I see.” The woman nodded to herself and jotted something down. The armored knight twisted and leaned forward so that his palm almost touched the ground as he followed Ban closely.

“Wait, Ban, that spoon is different from the one you were just using. That’s less than precise.”

“You’re nagging me about everything! It fell on the floor and disappeared somewhere. It’s about the same size, so it’s fine! Hey, Merlin, send away that bullshit armor. I can’t work like this,” Ban complained to the woman at his side.

But Merlin only laughed. “Oh, don’t say that. It’s part of my research. I need Gowther’s impeccable memory.”

“Heh, do whatever you wish, then, and I’ll do the same. Either way, stop commenting on every single detail, Gowther.”

“Sure.” Gowther lifted an armored finger to signal his assent. Hmph, Ban snorted, and without giving the knight a second glance, resumed cooking, humming a tune.

1

Margaret let out a sigh and got to her feet. As she carefully opened the window, the wind blew into the room with a whoosh. She could smell water.

She was at the royal villa of King Liones, which stood upon a small island that floated in Lake Grau. Margaret had been staying there for about a week. It was a terribly quiet place. The closest town was over five miles away, and untamed hills thick with brush completely surrounded the lake.

She was in the highest room on the third floor of the castle, which jutted out from the cliff on the northern side of the island. Directly below her window was the cliff that continued down past the wall, and below that spread the lake’s surface. All she could hear was the wind and waves lapping against the shore.

The lake reflected the dull gray of the clouds. The opposite shore was blurry as if it was only a shadow.

“ ‘The lone old castle that stands upon the small island is like a stone cell that imprisons me’—” Repeating the lines that her attendant Grace had heard, Margaret sang in a tiny voice. She didn’t know if the melody was correct. “ ‘My body is cursed and torn apart by the fates of the day and the night. It stands here still as stone, it sighs’…” Rustled by the strong wind, Margaret’s long platinum-blond hair danced.

“Lady Margaret!” Just at that moment, Grace, who had entered the room, rushed to her side, her face pale.

“What’s wrong, Grace?”

“Well, for some reason I thought that you were going to fall…”

“Oh dear, I’m fine.”

Grace peered out the window, trembling. “No matter how many times I look, it scares me. The wind is so cold, it’d be better if you shut the window—”

“Right.” With a faint smile, Margaret closed the window.

Grace knelt upon the floor to pick up a fallen piece of paper. “Your Highness, here.”

“Thank you.”

It was that puzzle. It had probably been blown by the wind.

“How are you faring with it?” Grace asked.

“Yes, well…I have a little bit more to go.” Margaret smiled, but in her mind, she had begun to give up.

“The hints, they’re too sparse…Like, I don’t know what you’re supposed to do with an obscure one like ‘Fish’…‘Put in a rabbit stew’? Doesn’t seem like carrot would be the right answer.”

“Yes…”

As Grace said, the ten empty spaces that remained corresponded to hints that were far too simple. Margaret was at a loss. She lacked the knowledge to tease out the answers from the connecting words.

“I thought I would be able to help with something like ‘Herb’…I apologize for not being more useful.” Grace, whose family ran a medicine shop, hung her head.

In the capital, Margaret might have asked somebody about the hints or looked them up in a book—there may have been some way. But all she had at the royal villa was herself, her three maids, and several servants. She could do nothing.

It can’t be helped. Margaret closed her eyes. She’d promised her younger sisters to send a messenger upon solving the puzzle, but that seemed unlikely now. But it’s probably for the better. This way, no one will be hurt…

Margaret glanced at Grace, who was still looking at the puzzle and shaking her head.

The maid suddenly turned around. “My apologies, I’d forgotten what I came for! Your meal is ready.”

“All right…” Margaret followed her out into the hallway and spoke to her as they descended the stairs. “Grace, it might be about time that you and Erica returned to the capital. When the next carriage arrives, have it take you on its way back.”

“What are you saying?” Grace turned around with a sorrowful expression. “I don’t know about Erica unless I ask, but as for me, I will always stay by your side. I was told to by my parents as well.”

“But…”

“Um, did I…commit some blunder?” Grace asked, wringing her hands at her chest.

Margaret shook her head from side to side. “It’s nothing like that. It’s just…”

It’s just that you might be put in danger again—Margaret swallowed those words.

Margaret had heard the very next morning from her maid, Erica, who loved gossip, that a monster had escaped from the circus and attacked people on the night of the Summer Solstice Festival. Learning that one of the people who had been assaulted was none other than Grace, she understood everything.

Apparently a chimera, a creature begat with magic, had gone after Grace. In that case, it was the doing not of some circus curiosity, but of that woman—Vivian.

Encouraged by Grace’s words, Margaret had entrusted her maid with a message, but shouldn’t have.

If it was only a date, a time, and a place, she could conceal a message in the Holy Knight apprentices’ daily schedule. If the person who gave it to Gilthunder was Howzer, nobody would be suspicious, or so Margaret thought, but that woman wasn’t so easily deceived.

Undoubtedly, the chimera that watched Margaret was, even now, hiding somewhere in this castle. Just like back in the capital, it was monitoring her.

To get away from Gilthunder, and to protect Grace, she’d come to the royal villa. Yet Margaret was gradually growing unsure about the best course of action.

2

Crash!

Grace, who had finished hanging laundry in a corner of the courtyard and was resting on a nearby bench, jumped at the loud noise.

She also heard a young man’s voice: You’ve gotta be kidding me!

It came from the back door of the kitchen. Grace timidly approached it and peered through the small crack in the wooden door.

A young, blond man wearing an apron was holding his head with both elbows on his workbench. Potatoes and other vegetables still coated in dirt were scattered about on the bench and the floor.

“What more can I do?!” The man then placed his hands on the rim of a shallow bucket in the sink next to him. Grace could see fish swimming inside. It seemed he aimed to flip the bucket over.

“Stop, please stop!” Without thinking, Grace rushed toward him and grabbed his arm.

“Wh-What are you doing?” Caught off guard, the young man whirled around in surprise. “Y-You’re the princess’ maid…”

“Yes. I’m Grace. Um, what’s wrong? Vegetables aside, if you throw the fish out, they’ll die…”

“So what if they did,” the young man spat, turning away. “Because no matter how painstakingly I prepare her meals, your princess won’t eat, will she? Who knows what kind of extravagant fare you serve at the capital…”

“That’s…that’s not it!” Grace shouted, taken aback. She gripped her apron dress firmly. “The princess came here to recuperate! It’s not her fault that she can’t eat much!”

“I know that! That’s why I’m constantly trying to figure it out. What’s nutritious, what has light flavoring, what’s easy to eat, what isn’t too hot—but it all comes back hardly touched. I’m losing my motivation.” The man laughed humorlessly. “Why would she ever bother with the cuisine of a country cook like me? She should have just brought a chef with her.”

“Y-You’re wrong!”

“What am I wrong about? Really, you call it recuperating, but she didn’t bring a doctor or a healer. Are you sure she’s not faking it?”

“Wha—” He had gone so far that Grace was left speechless.

The man didn’t know—just how much Margaret was suffering.

“Her Highness is n-not that kind of p-per…”

Grace started to speak but couldn’t continue. She was no different in failing to understand Margaret’s suffering. When the man asked Grace why he was wrong, she couldn’t explain. She could only repeat that he was wrong.

“Her Highness is…” Tears began to well up in the maid’s eyes. In moments, they began flowing and dripping from her cheek to the floor.

“Whoa, hey…don’t cry!”

The young man began to panic as if he was just coming to his senses. He restlessly scanned his surroundings, grabbed a yellow fruit that was lying on the kitchen counter, scrubbed the dirt from it with his apron, and thrust it toward Grace.

“I’m sorry I ran my mouth…Here, I’ll give you this.”

“…”

Grace, who had lifted the hem of her apron to wipe away her tears, was a little appalled. She wasn’t a child of five or six, but he seemed to think that a piece of fruit would make her feel better. When she glowered at him with upturned eyes, the young man faltered.

“No, really…I apologize.”

“Never mind about me. I can’t forgive someone who speaks ill of Her Highness.”

“I understand. Sorry—please take this back to your room and have it with the princess. She can stomach at least a little bit of fruit, can’t she?” the man said, pushing the gift into Grace’s hand.

Accepting it helplessly, Grace tilted her head. “This fruit…What’s it called? It’s like an apple…”

“Ah, cirins are only picked in this region. They also taste like apples but are somewhat sweeter. You can crush it and add its flavor to a stew too.”

“Cirin…” Grace suddenly remembered something. “This must be…” She spun, fruit in hand.

“What is it?!” the young man shouted in surprise, but she didn’t bother.

3

“Your Highness! This is it! The cirin fruit!”

Margaret had moved the table up against the window and spread out the puzzle. She was sitting chin in hand when Grace burst through the door and startled her.

“What happened, Grace?”

“I figured it out! The hint! The ‘put in a rabbit stew’ clue!” Grace, who was normally calm, pushed the yellow fruit at Margaret with uncharacteristic fervor and pointed at one of the blank spaces in the puzzle on the table. “Here! This is ‘cirin fruit,’ isn’t it?”

“Ah…you’re right.” Margaret, too, traced the blank with her finger. Sure enough, those letters fit perfectly.

“Sometimes this fruit is crushed and added to a stew. The kitchen man—uh, I forgot to ask his name, but he said so.”

“Oh…”

“Apparently this fruit is only harvested in this region. No wonder we didn’t get it!” Grace said happily. Margaret looked down at the puzzle anew.

“Come to think of it—this was inserted by a page that showed this castle.” The princess remembered the time she’d started working on it with Veronica and Elizabeth. It seemed not only the name of the lake but also all the other vague hints had something to do with this castle.

“Maybe there are other answers that only people here would know!”

“Yes!” Margaret met Grace’s eyes and stood up.

“Hello,” Grace called at the kitchen entrance.

“Oh, it’s you,” a voice replied, and the young blond man came forth.

“I’m sorry about earlier.”

“No, I’m the one—whoa!” The young man widened his eyes when he realized that Margaret was standing behind Grace. He hurriedly took a step back and bowed his head.

“P-Princess, what brings you to such a squalid place?…Y-You didn’t rattle on me, did you?” The young man glanced at Grace with frightened eyes, but she furiously waved both her hands.

“No, no! Actually, Her Highness has something she would like to ask you.”

“Me?”

Margaret smiled at the bewildered young man. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Margaret Liones. Thank you for always making such delicious food.”

“No, that…um….Excuse me for not being able to serve anything to your liking.”

“No, pardon me. I’m sorry I can’t eat much. What’s your name?”

“I’m Phil.”

“Phil. Well, Phil, there’s something I’d like to ask you.” Margaret handed the puzzle that she held in her left hand over to Phil. “This is something I brought from the capital. I just can’t for the life of me fill in spots like this one…or this one. But just now, we figured out ‘cirin fruit,’ and we thought maybe we should ask someone who is better acquainted with this region…”

“Huh, let me take a quick look.” Phil took the sheet from Margaret and for a while compared the hints with the empty places on the puzzle, lowering his fingers from time to time to count letters, until finally, he nodded. “Well, these certainly aren’t the kinds of things you would know. Almost all of these blanks are vegetables, fish…anyways, ingredients associated with this area.”

“I thought so.” Grace was beaming. “I wonder if the person who made this puzzle is from around here. But Ladies Veronica and Elizabeth found it at a bookstore in the capital, didn’t they?”

“Yes…”

“The herbs and other leafy vegetables are almost all things we grow in the garden here. Would you like to see?”

At Phil’s words, Margaret smiled and replied, “Really? I’d love to.”

“Right this way.” Returning the puzzle to Margaret’s hand, Phil invited the two of them into the kitchen. They passed before the sink, opened the wooden door at the far end, and found themselves in the courtyard. Enclosed by the keep, its two towers, and the ramparts that connected them, the courtyard measured about 160 feet on each side. The brick walkway that linked the keep’s front entrance and the gate between the two towers cut through the center. Various garden trees were planted on either side of the path.

“Those far rows over there are vegetables, and that area over there is herbs.”

Many varieties of flowering plants grew in the plot where Phil pointed, their leaves all subtly different shades of green. There were tall plants, plants that crawled and spread over the ground, plants with tiny flowers.

“…”

“The potted ones over there are mint. This block is sage. That’s lemongrass, and this here is what was in that puzzle just now, ‘snow on the mountain’…”

Listening to Phil’s explanation, Margaret approached the spot and knelt down in the dirt, unconcerned that her hem would get dirty. Just as the name suggested, the new leaves were whitish in color; it looked as if they were dusted with a light layer of snow.

“…”

When the wind blew, it carried the smell of damp earth and the strong aroma of grass with it. Margaret gently felt the grass before her with her fingers, and when she tore one blade, she caught a sweet scent.

“What a nice smell…it somehow makes me nostalgic,” she found herself murmuring. Though she could hardly remember it, she had a feeling that long ago, she’d smelled the same aroma here.

Are you ready?

Not yet!

Gilthunder and Griamore and Veronica and herself.

Hadn’t the four of them run around this yard and played hide and seek?

Are you ready?

Not yet!

Tears pooled in Margaret’s eyes and dripped down to dampen her cheeks.

4

“Wow, it’s true, everything is filled in!” Grace clapped her hands together in celebration.

At the workbench in the kitchen, Margaret scribbled with her feather quill, filling in the final empty spaces of the puzzle with the names of ingredients. She gazed at the beautifully completed puzzle with satisfaction. Then, as if an idea had come to her all of a sudden, she looked up at Phil who stood beside her.

“Hey, Phil…is there a meal that uses all of the ingredients in this puzzle?”

“Let’s see…I don’t think there is just one meal…but together, hmm…” Ah! the cook cried out after deliberating for a moment. “Come to think of it, there was that time…”

“That time?” Grace echoed. Phil, who’d dropped his head to mutter to himself, raised his face.

“Um, I think it was four or five years ago—the ‘Seven Deadly Sins’ came to this castle.”

“The Seven Deadly Sins!” cried Grace.

Phil seemed flustered. “Oh, I’m sorry…They’re traitors to the royal family now…” He frantically bowed his head as if to end his story.

“It’s all right, I want to hear. What happened with the Seven Deadly Sins?” Margaret asked.

“Usually the only people here are the custodians, but when guests visit from the capital, servants are gathered as they are now. At the time, the cook here was my grandfather. The Seven Deadly Sins were staying here for some kind of mission. I was around twelve, and I sometimes came to help him—that day, when I peered into the kitchen…”

Phil went on to say that the person who was cooking wasn’t his grandfather, but a hulking man with silver hair and bright red eyes.

“Silver hair, red eyes and—a giant.” Margaret remembered. There was such a man amongst the Seven Deadly Sins. “Ban, the Fox’s Sin of Greed?”

“Yes, he was called Ban. He said, ‘Hey, help me out here’—and I did because I was scared, but when I tried speaking to him, he was actually fairly friendly and fun…”

And also surprisingly good at cooking, Phil added.

“I think they stayed about ten days. Ban would often lose bets with the others, and the loser had to cook, he said. I think nearly all of the ingredients in the puzzle were in the several dishes that he made then…”

“Ah, I’d like to try them.”

Grace and Phil leaned forward at Margaret’s murmur.

“R-Really?”

“I’ll make it! I’ll go buy the ingredients tomorrow!” As Phil spoke, he looked like he just remembered something. “Actually, Ban shared a piece of advice back then…When I asked what the secret was to making good food, he said to ‘do the opposite of the Chief’s cooking.’ ”

“The Chief’s cooking?”

Yes, Phil affirmed.

“Our chief is absolutely horrible at cooking!” Ban had said, laughing.

“Do you know what he said when I asked him how he made his food taste so much like garbage?”

“Wh-What?”

“It’s what happens if you disregard the diner’s feelings and make only what you want to make! So, to make delicious food, you do the opposite, got it?”

“Maybe, unknowingly, I was only making what I wanted to make. I chose my flavors to avoid being ridiculed as a country chef, but I was only pleasing myself…Ah, um, so…” Phil looked at Margaret. “From the beginning, I should have asked you what you wanted to eat, or how you were feeling today.”

“Well, really…I’m sorry I made you so self-conscious.”

Grace stepped in between Margaret, who frowned apologetically, and Phil, whose face had clouded over considerably. “That’s right! It’s almost Her Highness’ birthday, isn’t it? Why don’t we make that meal for her birthday dinner?”

Phil’s eyes shone. “Wh-What? When is it?!”

“July 7th!”

Phil and Grace eagerly nodded to each other and looked ready to hold hands as well. Margaret beamed at them with gratitude and cast another glance at the puzzle she held in her hands.

So the Seven Deadly Sins had been here. The puzzle had been next to a page that showed this castle and lake, and the hints were names of ingredients that were often used here. And they’d gone into a meal that one of the Sins had made.

It also had our names, father’s magical power, and Zaratras, so I thought one of the capital’s Holy Knights or a castle retainer had made it…

If it was the work of one of the Seven Deadly Sins, however, the sentence written at the bottom of the puzzle: “The one who solves it all shall kiss the witch and gain an invitation to the banquet”…

Kiss—the witch?

The witch among the Seven Deadly Sins could only be the Boar’s Sin of Gluttony, Merlin.

Merlin…M-E-R-L-I-N…

“Oh…” Margaret realized. Right around the middle of the puzzle, if she diagonally followed the “M” that started her own name, it spelled M-E-R-L-I-N.

“……”

Margaret gently pressed her lips over the name.

Then—

“Ah!”

Suddenly, the puzzle began to sparkle. Margaret, and of course Grace and Phil beside her, were stunned. The three of them stared at the shining puzzle.

“Aie!”

A bunch of letters she’d inscribed in the puzzle jumped out, glittering gold. They swirled and danced in the air before finally lining up to form a sentence.

“ ‘GO TO THE BASEMENT’?”

At that moment, beneath their feet—

Thunk…It sounded like something large had moved.

5

When they followed the message and headed to the aged castle’s basement, a small room that was being used to store food, they discovered a passage had opened in the stone wall in the back. At the end of the stairs that continued from there was a large secret chamber.

“Wow…amazing…” Phil, who carried a lantern and stepped in first, blurted out in wonder. The chamber was twenty feet long and wide, and the ceiling stood over ten feet tall. A large window hollowed out in one of the walls was inlaid with vivid stained glass. It seemed strange that a basement room should have a window, but apparently it opened to the island’s cliff and must have been invisible from the outside due to some kind of magic. The stained glass was a geometric pattern made up of a combination of several colored glass squares about four inches on each side. The rainbow light that shone through it cast the same design upon the stone floor.

“How beautiful…”

In the center of the room was a wooden table that should have been too large to bring down here. A white earthenware tea set for five was laid upside down on a beautifully textured wooden tray. The chamber hadn’t been visited in so long that a layer of dust coated everything, but there were no strange odors.

“This stained glass design…is the same as that puzzle, isn’t it?” Grace said while gently touching the glass.

“Ah…you’re right.” Margaret turned toward the window and held up the puzzle. Sure enough, it was exactly the same.

“The invitation to the banquet—I wonder if it was the right to enter this room?”

“Perhaps the Deadly Sins held banquets here.” Margaret smiled.

“That’s it! How about we have our banquet here as well?” It was Phil who said this. “A banquet for Her Highness’ birthday. Please have your feast here.”

“Lovely!” Grace clapped her hands and hopped. “I’ll put some fight into cleaning this room! I’ll have Erica and Agatha help as well and have this place sparkling!”

Phil and Grace were looking at each other again and nodding.

Seeing the two of them like that, Margaret pulled up the hem of her dress and gave a lady’s curtsy.

“Really—thank you. I’ll look forward to it.”

“No, Your Highness, it’s nothing!”

As the two of them gaped in humble surprise, the princess smiled at them with all of her heart.

Rain continued to fall.

The weather in Britannia at the beginning of spring was unstable, so rain itself was not rare.

But a rain so violent, and that continued for so long, was very unusual. It had already been several days. The showers became stronger each day and showed no signs of stopping whatsoever.

Yet another day had passed since Diane became confined to that place. For the woman, who was part of the giant clan, it was difficult to find somewhere her large body could escape the rain. After wandering among the mountains, she crouched in the shadow of a huge rock she’d finally found, holding her knees.

“Chief…I wonder how he’s doing.”

Diane didn’t really know what had happened. She’d been summoned by Zaratras, the Captain of the Holy Knights, regarding some kind of grave matter, only to find him stabbed to death. What’s more, before she knew it, she found herself surrounded by the kingdom’s Holy Knights.

If she and the others tried in earnest, then destroying the capital might have been easy, but they couldn’t possibly do that. At that moment, all they could do was split up and run.

We were supposed to rendezvous later, but as for where and how…we didn’t decide a thing…

Diane’s large frame was easy to spot, and news of her sightings seemed to circulate immediately. How many Holy Knights had she battled until she found that rock? From the information she gathered in those moments, it seemed that Zaratras’ younger brother, Dreyfus, and Hendrickson had taken command. Were they the masterminds? She didn’t know.

The only thing she did know was that they, the Seven Deadly Sins, had been set up by somebody. As to who—she no longer cared, figuring that it was just the way humans were.

“I don’t care anymore…” Her stomach was empty and she was drowsy. She had a feeling that some time long ago, she’d held her knees in the shadow of a boulder, alone like this. As to when, though, she couldn’t remember.

The rain continued to hammer down upon the boulder. She could hear the rumbling noise of rushing water from somewhere. She remembered that there was a creek not far from where she sat. It had to be the sound’s source.

But—somehow, it’s a little strange…

It was too ferocious for a stream, and occasionally she even felt tremors in the earth. Diane reluctantly left the shelter of the boulder for the rain and began walking through the forest.

Oh!

Peering through the shadows, she swallowed her breath. The sheer volume of it was incredible. The muddy flow swallowed up huge boulders, snapped trees at the roots, and rushed downstream in a powerful torrent.

Actually, wasn’t there a human village downstream?

She’d caught a glimpse of it the day before in passing. If a current of such strength reached that settlement, it would be gone in a moment.

Did everyone escape already?

It’s been raining for so many days…They must have run away long ago…

Still—some people might have missed their chance.

Diane shook her head emphatically.

“Nothing to do with me.”

All humans were selfish and cunning and only thought about using others. Yes, they were always like that. Always.

“…”

Diane dropped her gaze to the ground.

But maybe, that village—is the one we passed through a few years ago on a mission.

All of the Seven Deadly Sins had stayed in an old castle on a lake farther downstream. But Diane the giant, unable to enter, had slept alone on the bank. At that time, a few mischievous children had come all the way from a nearby village to see the giant. Hiding timidly, but with twinkling eyes, they had peered up at Diane.

“It doesn’t matter, really.” Diane clenched her teeth.

Then slowly, she knelt and pushed both her palms against the ground.

“Why am I doing this?”

Magical power surged from her body. It was swallowed by the earth. Before long, off in the distance, she heard intense tremors.

1

“See? We’re starting to see it,” Griamore said, pulling his horse toward the carriage. Elizabeth’s head poked out from a window.

“Really? Where?”

“Ellie! Don’t stand, it’s dangerous!” Veronica’s voice came from inside, but Elizabeth wouldn’t listen. She leaned out until her shoulders were nearly outside as well.

“You don’t need to do that, you’ll see it clearly if we go a little further—see?”

The carriage slowly rounded a bend in the mountain road. Before long, a large lake stretched before them.

“Wow!”

“There. You see it, yes? Near the shore on our side, on that island, is the royal villa.”

It was just as Griamore said. On the lake’s placid, glimmering surface, which reflected the mountains on the opposite shore, floated a small island, upon which stood a cozy little castle.

“That’s where sister is!”

“Ellie, it’s dangerous so sit! We’re almost there!”

Rebuked by Veronica, Elizabeth’s face finally withdrew from the window.

“Is it true that I visited once before as a baby?” Just her voice was audible through the window as she spoke to Veronica.

“It seems so. I was still young, too, and don’t remember anything,” Veronica replied. Hearing that, Griamore called to Gilthunder, who rode a little ahead of him.

“Do you remember, Gil? We went there as well, years ago—were we about six?”

“Who knows? Were we?” Gilthunder answered curtly.

“I don’t recall much of it either, but I think we played hide and seek in the courtyard. Looking at that castle now, I feel like I’m starting to remember.” Griamore narrowed his eyes and urged his horse forward to line up beside Gilthunder. “Hey, are you really not going to stop by the castle? Princess Margaret is there, isn’t she?”

“I’m not,” Gilthunder said without looking over. “You’re more than capable of dropping Veronica and Elizabeth off at the castle on your own.”

“Yup, yup. Let’s go on ahead. I’m burning to test it.” Howzer, who was walking his horse in front of the carriage, loosened his reins slightly to approach them. He was carrying a long spear under his arm. He badly wanted to try out the new weapon he had received from Dreyfus, the Holy Knight Captain.

“You there, keep the chattering in moderation,” Holy Knight Nicholas called out from the other side of the two horses pulling the carriage. Y-Yes, responded the three apprentices, who were childhood friends, before quickly separating their horses.

Their destination was not the royal family’s villa up ahead but a small village farther north.

Werewolves had appeared near the village, which was called Isula, and killed several inhabitants. The report had reached the capital only recently.

It was decided that Nicholas would investigate the state of affairs, and the apprentices were ordered to accompany him. Hearing that Isula was in the same direction as the royal villa, Veronica demanded that she be brought along and ended up following in a carriage.

Before long, the party saw a forked road ahead of them. The path on the left swerved from the mountains and headed down toward the lake. The path on the right continued on, toward the village of Isula.

“Well then, I’ll escort Princesses Veronica and Elizabeth to the villa.” Griamore stopped his horse and raised a hand toward Nicholas and the others as the carriage turned its nose to the left and began to clatter down the hill.

“Ah, send Princess Margaret my best regards. Take care.”

“Yes, sir. After I say hello, I’ll catch up to you!”

Watching Griamore follow after the carriage, Gilthunder halted his horse for just a moment.

Past the brush-laden, untamed hills was the lake’s sparkling surface. The bright summer sun shone high in the heavens. From where Gilthunder stood, the island and castle floating on the shining mirror of a lake appeared as silhouettes, with only the shapes of the two towers and the keep’s roof in distinct relief. Neither the windows nor the yard was visible.

Margaret was there.

Gilthunder gazed at the silhouette wistfully. Even those few seconds of reflection were interrupted by the ringing caw of a raven from above. Gilthunder quietly spurred his horse and caught up with Howzer and the others.

2

“Hmm…so this is the first time a werewolf has attacked humans?” Nicholas stooped uncomfortably to ask the elderly man, who stood only half as tall as the Holy Knight.

“That is so. Originally, up until about three years ago, this area wasn’t even connected to the mountains where the werewolves live. Yes, that was right after the news spread of the Seven Deadly Sins’ mutiny.” The elderly man, who was the village mayor, stretched up to point at the distant mountains. “That year, there were torrential rains in these parts, and this village was almost swallowed by the rising stream. At the last moment, however, the flow shifted.”

“The flow shifted?”

“Indeed. West of the village, you saw a large difference in elevation, did you not? Now it is a garden, but the stream flowed there before. A mountain upstream collapsed, and the terrain transformed—”

The village of Isula was a small settlement of houses dotting a narrow bit of flat land between the mountains. The villagers grew vegetables in tiny plots and kept goats and sheep in the hills. It seemed there were also people who hunted.

“I see. So the stream’s course twisted further away. You narrowly escaped death.”

“But with that mountain collapsing, a previously impassable cliff was leveled, and the wolves began to come down from the Black Fog Mountains on the other side. It seems the wolf-men’s territory was also up there…Last month several were killed.”

“I see—how many werewolves?”

“There were two then, and a hunter felled one of them. As for how many more…”

“It doesn’t matter!” Howzer blurted out impatiently. “Who cares how many, let’s just wipe them out!”

“You know we can’t do that.” Nicholas smiled bitterly. “Anyways, we’ll scout it out before Griamore returns.”

“Yes, sir,” Gilthunder nodded. Thank you kindly, the village mayor lowered his head.

“But how odd—wolf-men…Their numbers are already very few,” Nicholas remarked as he trod the mountain path that continued from Isula toward the Black Fog Mountains.

“I hear they’re quite strong,” Howzer said.

“Only on nights when the moon is full or nearly full. During the day, not so much. To begin with, as the name ‘wolf-man’ suggests, only some males are able to assume a perfectly human form, or so I’ve been told. Well, the females rarely leave their territory, so we don’t actually know…”

“In that case, let’s just attack them during the day.”

“In theory this is true. However, if it’s a matter of their territory shifting due to a change in terrain, there might a way of settling this peacefully by addressing that issue.”

“Seriously? How boring!” Howzer hoisted his spear.

“Now, don’t say that. It’s always best not to get into a fight,” Nicholas, who was a large but kind man, chided with a smile.

Listening to their conversation, Gilthunder alone walked in silence. These parts were cool even in the summer, and at such a high elevation, they didn’t see many large trees even deep into the mountains. Instead, large boulders and naked cliffs continued endlessly, and a white haze that was neither cloud nor fog hung just above them, reducing visibility. The ground was so thoroughly sodden that tiny rivulets had formed in several places.

“Hmmm—this area?” Nicholas, who led the group, halted. “It seems this is where we enter their territory. Sure enough, the paths around here look new—now, what to do.”

“I’ll go and look a little further,” Gilthunder said and began to march on without waiting for Nicholas’ reply.

“Hey, be careful. Don’t venture too far.”

“I’ll go too!”

Gilthunder heard Howzer but hurried on without waiting.

He wanted to be alone.

He’d come so close to Margaret and still couldn’t meet her. When he first received his mission, his heart thrilled to the idea of approaching her at least, but now, after passing that place by, his heart only ached.

I wanted to come. I shouldn’t have come.

Tossed about by those two sentiments, Gilthunder just clenched his teeth and proceeded along the mountain path.

3

“It really is pretty, dear sister!” Elizabeth happily spread out the hem of her dress with both hands. As she did, the light filtering through the stained glass made her white dress look like a beautiful piece of rainbow-colored cloth.

They were at the north villa, in the basement chamber that Margaret had found.

“To think that such a secret was hidden in this puzzle…I wonder who made it.” Veronica, too, spoke with admiration as she held the puzzle up to the stained glass.

Margaret smiled but didn’t reveal that the answer to her sister’s question was the Seven Deadly Sins. Veronica had always abhorred the Sins as strange, evil people, and since Zaratras’ death, she disliked hearing even their names.

“Your Highnesses, the meal is ready for you in the dining room,” Grace, the maid, came to call them.

“I want to eat here—you held big sister’s birthday celebration in this room, didn’t you?” Elizabeth said, a little dissatisfied.

“Perhaps tomorrow we can have them bring it down here,” Margaret suggested with a chuckle before gently pressing on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Now, go on up. You too, Veronica.”

“Okay!” the younger sisters answered brightly and followed after Grace to exit the chamber.

After watching the two of them leave, Margaret stood before the stained glass again and looked up at the beautiful geometric pattern. Every time she came here, her heart felt just a little lighter. Was it because memories from a distant day seemed to envelope her?

“Hmm, I see.” A woman’s voice suddenly spoke right beside Margaret and made her jump away.

“Vivian!”

It was she who stood there. Vivian wasn’t wearing a mask, but in her right hand, she held the staff shaped like a monster’s hand.

“ ‘The one who solves it all shall kiss the witch and gain an invitation to the banquet’…” Vivian grabbed the puzzle from the tabletop and, like Veronica, held it up against the stained glass. “I know this handwriting. It belongs to one of the Seven Deadly Sins, the Goat’s Sin of Lust, Gowther. ‘Kiss the witch’—huh.”

“Vivian…please give it back,” Margaret pleaded. Vivian, however, merely narrowed her eyes and continued to gaze at the puzzle.

“So you kissed that woman’s name in this puzzle, and found this chamber.”

“Yes…”

“But that doesn’t mean you’ve solved this puzzle.”

“What?”

Vivian laughed triumphantly. “ ‘An invitation to the banquet’—this room? You think?” Holding the puzzle up to the stained glass once more, she slowly recited some kind of spell. Then, all of the letters written in the puzzle sprang up in the stained glass as well. “Stained glass with the same pattern as the puzzle…Naturally, there’d be another twist,” she muttered and stepped up to the wall.

Tracing her finger over the floating letters spelling MERLIN, Vivian hesitated for a few seconds before knitting her brow and whirling around to face Margaret.

“Nope! Your Highness, you do it.”

“Do…what?”

“It’s obvious! ‘Kiss the witch.’ ”

Margaret squeezed the hem of her dress but saw fit to do as Vivian said. Placing one hand on the stained glass, she softly pressed her lips against the “R” of MERLIN.

Then…

“Ahh!” Just like with the puzzle, a bunch of letters inscribed in the stained glass sparkled and flickered and leapt out into the air to form a sentence.

But these letters were no longer from the alphabet, somehow having turned into runes used by magicians. Margaret couldn’t decipher it.

The moment Vivian saw the line, her face changed color. “That woman…So she was hiding it in such a place!”

“Vivian!” Margaret cried out. She had a bad feeling.

But not sparing the princess another glance, the witch vanished with a single wave of her staff.

4

The fog steadily grew thicker as Gilthunder walked the narrow path. Until moments earlier, there were still signs of Howzer behind him, but not anymore. Perhaps he’d taken a wrong path somewhere.

Had he? Or had Howzer? Either way, Gilthunder needed to turn back. No matter how lengthy a summer day, these were the mountains. It was already growing dark.

Still, he pressed on.

He began not to care where he was going, or why. He just wanted to disappear into the fog. As the thought crossed his mind—

Rustle, came a sound from up ahead. Gilthunder’s hand shot to his sword’s hilt.

“Who goes there?!”

“Wait!” bade a mild voice.

She appeared in the fog—a young woman, slightly older than Gilthunder. She had a slender build and wore hunting garments. Her silver hair was tied up behind her head.

“I’m Blanca. I’m a hunter from the village at the northern foot of the mountains. I strayed too far and lost my way.”

“This path leads to the village of Isula, in the hinterlands of Liones.” Gilthunder squinted and looked over the women’s appearance. There was nothing particularly suspicious about her.

“I see. So I must have passed over the ridge and come out on the other side.”

“If you go straight down this path, I think you’ll find my group. Please join with them and leave the mountains. I’m sure it’s past sunset now.”

“What are you going to do?” Blanca asked, tilting her head.

“I’m…going a little further.”

“I heard werewolves prowl past here. It’s dangerous.”

“I know.” He did. “It’s dangerous—that’s why I’m going.”

“I see—so…” Blanca’s voice grew quiet. “You’re also—out to slay wolves.”

Something about her tone made Gilthunder shudder, and he did a double take. “I…”

Blanca’s blue-gray eyes flashed in the fog. Gazing into Gilthunder’s, she suddenly took a deep breath.

Ooooo…

Howzer stopped in his tracks when he heard a wolf’s howl in the distance. Realizing that he’d lost sight of Gilthunder somewhere along the way, he was retracing his path.

He gripped his spear and listened. The howling echoed amidst the rocks and fog, and he couldn’t pinpoint its source.

“Gil!” The fog swallowed up his call. He couldn’t tell how far it traveled. “Gilthunder! Hey!”

Did the wolf’s howl reach Nicholas as well? Was he heading this way?

In any case, clearing away the fog seemed like a good idea. Just when Howzer started to think his wind magic might be up to the task—

“……”

A human shadow swayed onto a boulder just to his right.

“Gil!” It was Gilthunder. Relieved, Howzer smiled at his friend. “Hey, did you hear the howling just now? I wonder which way it came from. Did you see a wolf?”

“…”

“Anyways, let’s return to Nicholas. Or do you want to look for the wolf together?” proposed Howzer, laughing.

It was at that moment.

Gilthunder suddenly raised his blade and leapt from the boulder.

“Whoa!”

Howzer jumped back immediately, but Gilthunder struck again the moment he landed. Howzer used the shaft of his spear to block the sideways swipe just in time.

“What the heck?!”

“Dead…”

“What?”

“You’re dead.”

Gilthunder’s eyes were hollow, and they didn’t settle on anything. Seeing this, Howzer finally realized that Gilthunder wasn’t in his right mind.

“H-Hey, Gil! Wake up!”

“I’ll avenge them—you’re dead! You humans are all dead!”

“Gil!” At close quarters, Howzer would be at a disadvantage with his spear. Frantically dodging Gilthunder’s blade, which swung again and again, or parrying it with his own weapon, Howzer shouted, “Gil! What are you doing?!”

The words fell on deaf ears.

Gilthunder’s sword closed in, giving Howzer no time to think.

Eh, I don’t have a choice!

Shoving Gilthunder away forcefully, Howzer held his spear aslant. Fortunately, his friend was weaker than usual, robbed of his mind. It seemed he couldn’t even use his magical powers.

“This would’ve been difficult a little while ago, but with Lord Dreyfus’ spear…”

I’ll blast him away without hurting him, and then…

Howzer imagined the wind blowing. He wanted to seal Gilthunder’s movements, and also signal Nicholas if possible.

With his current skills—with this spear, perhaps he could pull it off.

“Here goes, Gilthunder! Wall Shock!”

A swirling mass of wind blasted Gilthunder away. Then from beneath his floating body struck a tornado.

“Rising Tornado!!”

“Aaahhhh!”

Gilthunder’s scream echoed, and the fog scattered.

5

“I see…so this is Merlin’s magic square.”

Hendrickson looked around with his arms crossed. He was deep under the royal family’s villa, in a different spot from the chamber that Margaret and the others had found. That room was right beneath the keep, but this place seemed to be positioned under the tower. The nearly perpendicular walls and floors carved into the natural cliff were covered with complex patterns.

“With this,” flared Vivian, “even considerably difficult fusions will be feasible—yes, for instance, beasts and plants, or even fish can be combined.”

Hmm, Hendrickson pondered. “You said the other day: crossing strong animals helter-skelter only unbalances them because their powers conflict.”

“Yes. And I don’t think using a magic square would change that.”

“Right, no matter how strong the synthesis, it might be pointless if it has the intellect of a beast.”

“I’m sure that’s true…” Vivian looked up, her face pale. “Um—you cannot be planning on using humans?”

“Hah…” Barely listening to Vivian, Hendrickson murmured with a hand on his chin, “What’s amplified through a demon’s blood are emotions that the subject already felt. And not simple ones like anger or fear, but rather, inner conflicts like envy, resentment, and rancor—they tend to create the best responses.”

Vivian quaked at his flat voice. What was it that allowed him to be so cold-hearted?

Restoring the demon clan so that chaos would engulf the world again. There, only the truly strong would reign as beacons of light and guide people. Overturning a world filled with a deceptive, false peace, so that the insulted might reclaim their pride.

Was the man aspiring to become a demon god for the sake of that ideal?

“Yes…it’s worth a try. Before we turn to humans.”

“Hendrickson…”

The man chuckled at Vivian, who was trembling. “Don’t worry, I won’t use humans yet. Apparently, there are fitting subjects not far from here.”

Gilthunder ran over the stone-paved path, bathed in the morning light. Surely at that hour, Meliodas was warming up in front of the lodging house. It was his daily routine.

Ah, there he was. The small form atop the stone bridge was that of the Seven Deadly Sins’ leader.

“Sir Meliodas!”

Meliodas turned around at the sound of Gilthunder’s voice and flashed his usual smile—not knowing anything.

“Hey, Gil boy. Today’s the kingdom’s anniversary festival!”

The yearly commemoration…

The castle town would soon be filled with dressed-up people if this were like any other year.

“Tell your father that I challenge him to a drinking con—”

“Run away!!” Gilthunder shouted, his breath ragged. Tears spilled from his eyes.

“Run…what is this, all of a sudden?” Meliodas questioned with a blank stare.

“Something horrible is going to happen to you and the others…Nkk.”

“Why don’t you explain it to me in detail?”

“That’s…not possible!! If it gets out that I talked about it…” Clutching Meliodas, Gilthunder groaned. He had to tell, yet couldn’t say anything. He didn’t know how to save both the Seven Deadly Sins and Margaret, whom he loved. “What do I do…what can I—”

“Calm down!”

Meliodas delivered a chop to the crown of Gilthunder’s head. It was in jest but hurt considerably, and Gilthunder cradled his poor skull.

“I don’t know what happened, but you just think about what you need to do,” Meliodas said, staring Gilthunder straight in the eye. “What do you need to do?”

Meliodas was always right. He always showed the way.

Gilthunder sniffled and, wiping his tears with the back of his hand, answered, “I have to…protect Margaret.”

Yes. He was her knight. He had to protect her. That was his number-one duty.

“All right, good!” Meliodas smiled. He must have guessed from Gilthunder’s demeanor that this was nothing trivial, but still he remained calm.

“B-But I’m not sure I can, alone…”

Gilthunder had always been protected, if not by this man, then by his father Zaratras, or his uncle Dreyfus, or by Hendrickson. He also had his friends, Howzer and Griamore. When he was in trouble, he had many people to talk to…

But. He was going to lose all of that. From now on he couldn’t depend on anybody.

“Then I’ll teach you a charm.” Although Meliodas knew nothing yet, he laughed as though he did. “Recite it when you’re down and out but can’t depend on anybody.”

“A…charm?”

Meliodas stared into Gilthunder’s eyes. “Yes. It goes, ‘I’m stronger than any of the Seven Deadly Sins’!!”

“I-I’m stronger than any of the Seven Deadly Sins?”

There, Meliodas nodded and lightly thumped his fist against Gilthunder’s chest. “Well? You feel braver, don’t you? If you’re stronger than any of us, there’s nothing to be afraid of, eh?”

With that, he gathered Gilthunder into his arms. Meliodas’ small but powerful hands ruffled Gilthunder’s red hair.

“Don’t worry, Gil boy. When you’re in a pinch, I’ll always help you.”

“Meliodas!!”

Gilthunder clung to him and began to cry again. Meliodas just continued to embrace the sobbing boy, who still wasn’t explaining a thing.

1

“Hey, hey, Gilthunder, get it together!”

Gilthunder awoke as someone patted his cheek.

“Where am I…”

“Isula.”

Howzer and Griamore were hovering over him. Gilthunder sat up in a panic. He was lying on a plain bed in someone’s home.

“Where am—what happened to me?”

Howzer laughed. “So you don’t remember anything? All right, fine. You were possessed by a wolf.”

Hearing those words, Gilthunder remembered. No, perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he understood. “Blanca—where’s Blanca?!”

“Blanca? You mean that wolf? It’s gone now,” Nicholas said, opening the door and coming in.

“Gone?”

“We caught it while you were out. That was the werewolf clan’s magical Howling—they say it can manipulate beasts, but I didn’t know that humans are also susceptible. The moon is far from full, so I’d let down my guard.”

“If you captured her, how’s she gone? Did you kill her?”

“No. Last night, Holy Knight Captain Hendrickson arrived with a magician in tow. They took it away immediately with a teleportation spell. They’re going to interrogate it back at the capital. Female werewolves are rare, so no wonder Lord Hendrickson is interested.”

“—…!!”

Pushing Howzer and the others out of the way, Gilthunder jumped out of bed. He rushed over to the door and sprang into the open air.

It was bright outside. It seemed it was almost noon.

Gilthunder scanned the area. Of course, there was already no sign of Hendrickson.

However.

“What…”

Gilthunder widened his eyes.

The village was devastated. The crops in the outlying fields were violently uprooted, and the roofs and walls of several houses were damaged.

“This too…is her doing?”

“By her, you mean the wolf,” Howzer responded to Gilthunder’s question and shrugged. It seemed they hadn’t seen her take human form.

“To be precise, it was the beasts manipulated by that thing,” Griamore said. “A little after you went scouting, a huge bear attacked all of a sudden. Also a host of deer, wild rabbits, mice, and so on—the village was in an uproar when I arrived.” He sighed before continuing, “Even rabbits and mice are a handful if there are enough of them. The larger beasts like the bear and the deer, we were able to take down immediately. The mice, though, snuck into houses and bit children, while the rabbits dug holes and undermined pillars…”

Apparently, they had evacuated the elderly and children before exterminating the small animals painstakingly with the help of the local adults.

“Tsk, not exactly the job of a Holy Knight.”

Griamore’s weary face had Howzer rolling on the ground laughing.

Gilthunder looked up at the cloudy sky and bit his lip.

When Blanca had put him under a spell, Gilthunder had seen her mind.

She was the last survivor of the werewolf clan that had lived in the heart of the mountains.

Humans were encroaching on their territory since the shift in terrain and overhunting. With the game growing scarce, the werewolves, and their thralls the sword wolves, had no choice but to descend into civilized lands, but that angered the humans in turn. An extensive wolf hunt was conducted, and the sword wolf pack was annihilated. Their flayed skins and extracted fangs were sold to the markets.

You shan’t be forgiven.

Gilthunder could still feel Blanca’s howl in his ears.

“Anyways, the problem has been resolved. Let’s return to the capital,” Nicholas said, patting Gilthunder on the shoulder.

2

The strange spell that Vivian was chanting echoed through the underground cavern.

Synchronized with her intonation, the complex magic square drawn on the walls and floor flickered.

Crouched on the floor at the center was a large shadow. Its original shape and color was impossible to discern with the ceiling and wall lights glinting on its back.

“It’s good—it’s perfect, Hendrickson,” Vivian exulted. Hendrickson nodded and approached the shadow.

“Do you want power?” he whispered to it. “Do you hate the humans who robbed you of your friends, your home? Do you seek magical power unbound by the phases of the moon?”

“I do…”

“I’ll make you stronger than the legendary Seven Deadly Sins.”

“Seven…Deadly Sins,” the shadow moaned.

Hendrickson nodded and held up a tiny needle in his right hand.

The needle—was plunged into the shadow’s body.

“Aa…aaaah!” With a ringing cry of agony, the shadow writhed. It rose up, swelling.

“Is it…not working?” asked Vivian. But—the thing didn’t burst open.

“We’re good.”

Gaaaah, the monster’s howl shook the room.

“Eek!” Vivian quickly tried to stop its movements with a spell. However, she was a moment too late. The monster’s body swung around and sent her flying. Before she could even scream, she struck the wall and passed out.

“I see…Nice. Quite the success.” Hendrickson snickered. “Now—shall we put it to the test?”

3

“Ugh, is this it?” Howzer muttered and yawned atop his horse. “Why couldn’t we have gone there as well?” His finger pointed at the small island on the lake.

They were at the fork in the mountain road where they’d split up with Veronica and the others. Originally, they were supposed to join back up with the princesses on their way home, but having completed their mission sooner than expected, Griamore had gone to ask what they were to do.

“Not visiting in droves is also Princess Margaret’s wish. Stop griping and just wait a bit,” Nicholas said, chuckling. Right at that moment—

Bom, a jolt seemed to push up the earth.

“Wha?!”

“Ah, the island!” Howzer pointed at the lake.

“——!!”

Half of the tiny island where the royal villa stood suddenly burst and threatened to crumble off.

Without uttering a word, Gilthunder spurred his horse and sped down the road toward the lake at a full gallop.

Fortunately, the castle was on the island’s northern side, which was still unharmed. Griamore was there, so things had to be under control.

“Wait, Gil! We’ll go too!”

Gilthunder heard Howzer’s voice, followed by hoofbeats, but hadn’t the time to look back.

In the distance—a wolf howled.

The same voice as before shook Gilthunder’s mind.

Dead.

Hate.

Vengeance.

You’re dead.

He tightened the reins right away. His horse reared up. Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed someone else’s mount doing the same.

Hadn’t Gilthunder been thrown off his horse and flung to the ground? But there was no pain, or any other sensation.

When he lifted his head, he saw that Howzer was on his feet aiming his spear skyward. Who was he fighting?

Gilthunder’s vision misted over and he couldn’t see very well.

Then, he saw blood. Somebody had fallen.

A large black shadow swooped down from the heavens.

He couldn’t hear anything. There was—no sound.

Everything looked gray.

The claws of a huge bird. Bright white wings spread.

Dead.

A snake made of water soared up. Nicholas’ spell? Where was he?

The wind raged. Howzer. But who? Who was there?

His own hand had at some point found his sword. Blue-white lightning gathered at its tip.

Dead.

Howzer turned around, but their eyes didn’t meet. Why was he thrusting his spear at Gilthunder?

Dead.

Whose voice was that? Howzer? Nicholas? Or…

Dead.

It was—his own. The voice had issued from Gilthunder’s own lips.

Lightning tore through the air. At the same time, Howzer’s tornado was closing in.

Gilthunder swung his sword. Several thunderbolts shot into the ground, blasting away nearby trees.

Even then—there was no sound at all. He couldn’t smell anything, either.

It didn’t feel real. It was like watching a chain of events unfolding well away.

You’re dead.

Dimly, in the corner of his mind, Gilthunder thought that they were being made to kill each other.

It was Blanca’s power.

From the moment they heard the howling, their bodies had been taken over.

Somebody was laughing, far up in the sky. Gilthunder craned his neck sluggishly.

It was a beautiful creature.

A huge wolf’s head with dark pupils and a bright red mouth.

A woman’s ample-breasted torso, covered in fur that glinted silver. Yet both her arms were snow-white wings. Her rear limbs, too, were those of a raptor.

Instead of a bird’s tail feathers was the long tail of a wolf.

The word “chimera” flitted across Gilthunder’s mind.

The monster swooped down and was tearing something apart with its mouth. Blood sprayed.

He realized somebody had been killed.

It would be his turn next—for sure.

But it couldn’t be helped, could it? Blanca’s sorrow and wrath were natural. Robbed of her friends, her lover, she was alone. She’d been living peacefully in the mountains but had lost everything.

He was—tired. Of bearing it alone.

Someone like him ought to just fade away, no doubt.

He wanted to relax. Soon. He’d give up on everything.

Joyous laughter filled his ears.

“Certainly powerful—power! Stronger than the Seven Deadly Sins of legend!”

Blanca’s voice? Perhaps it was somebody else’s.

Yet—those words pierced the light in Gilthunder’s chest that was flickering out.

“Stronger—than the Seven Deadly Sins?”

I’ll teach you a charm, he heard Meliodas’ words from back then.

Recite it when you’re down and out but can’t depend on anybody—“I’m stronger than any of the Seven Deadly Sins”!

They alone—provided uncommon support to Gilthunder.

“Stronger—than the Seven Deadly Sins?”

Impossible.

You just think about what you need to do.

Gilthunder was remembering now. One thing after another.

What do you need to do?

What he needed to do. There was—only one thing.

I have to…protect Margaret.

“Margaret!” shouted Gilthunder. Suddenly color returned to the world.

Somehow he’d ended up on all fours. Using his sword like a cane, he got to his feet.

“S-Sir Nicholas…”

It was Nicholas who was lying drenched in blood. A Holy Knight didn’t go down so easily. He must have fallen protecting the apprentices.

A silver wolf with huge wings crouched over his body.

“Blanca! Enough!” Gilthunder screamed and unleashed a thunderbolt at the same time. The monster spread both its wings and flew aside, then rose swiftly up into the air.

“Urk…”

Gilthunder heard a moan right beside him. Keeping his eyes on the sky, he focused on the presence. Howzer, it seemed.

“Howzer! Are you okay? Stay with me!”

“Urgh…”

Confirming that his comrade had managed to sit up, Gilthunder arced a thunderbolt into the sky. Blanca, who was circling above them, easily dodged the attack.

She flashed a grin. If she used her magical Howling again, all would be lost, but they couldn’t fight if they covered their ears.

Right—

Gilthunder gathered lightning at the tip of his sword. Again he fired at the sky.

“You fool! You won’t hit me!” Blanca mocked and sucked in her breath again. The blast shot past her and tore through the air with an intense crackling noise. Altering its trajectory according to the movements of the tip of Gilthunder’s sword, the bolt struck a bush a little distance away.

“—-!!”

Gilthunder’s eardrums rang from the explosion. Across from him, Howzer was opening and closing his mouth, but there was no telling what he was saying. Even Blanca’s howl wouldn’t be audible for a little while. Howzer blinked in surprise, realizing Gilthunder’s plan. Their eyes met and they nodded.

Let’s go!

Reading each other’s lips, they boosted their magical powers.

Rising Tornado!

Purge of the Thunder Emperor!

An enormous tornado that seemed to swallow everything absorbed Gilthunder’s lightning and quickly rose up.

Combo! Dragon Castle!

A pitch-black thundercloud swirled, and blue-white lightning shot between the tornado and the sky. A roaring sound broke through the ringing in Gilthunder’s ears as the winged wolf spiraled and vanished into the maelstrom.

“D-Did we do it?” Howzer’s faint cry reached Gilthunder’s gradually recovering ears. The tornado dissipated, but there was no sign of Blanca. Perhaps she had been torn apart and scattered.

“No—there!” yelled Gilthunder.

With tattered wings, she had broken out of the tornado. With her last strength, she flew toward the lake.

“Holy! Margaret and the others!”

Two boats floated on the lake’s surface. They must have escaped the crumbling island. They seemed to be headed for the far shore.

“Howzer!”

“Crap!” Howzer scraped together his remaining magic to form another tornado. “Gil! You go!”

The tornado enveloped Gilthunder and threw him up into the air. Clearing the brush-covered hills in one leap, he brandished his blade.

Blanca dived, bringing in her wings. Several people were on the boat down below.

I won’t make it in time!

A film of light spread out around the boat. It was Griamore’s power, Wall.

Blanca was sent hurtling out of her nosedive. Feathers fluttered from her silver wings. She righted herself unsteadily, spreading her wings to hover in the air.

She was trying to howl again!

But at that moment, some sort of spell went off from the opposite shore. Blanca stiffened as if she had been bound.

Now!

Pointing his thunder-infused sword straight downward, Gilthunder plummeted upon her from above. His heated blade penetrated flesh.

A scorched scent, and a long wail.

Entangled with a winged wolf, Gilthunder fell. He smacked into the surface of the lake with intense force, and at last, he lost consciousness.

4

“Gilthunder! Stay with me!” Patted again on the cheek, Gilthunder opened his eyes.

Griamore, Veronica, Elizabeth. Howzer was there too. And behind them, he could see a bashful Margaret.

When he sat up, he was on a beach, probably on the opposite shore.

The two boats had been pulled aground, and a little ways away, several young men and women that he didn’t recognize stood in a cluster. They had to be the villa’s servants.

Gilthunder, who was not only soaking wet but covered in sand, gave a large sneeze before asking Griamore, “What happened to Blanca…I mean, that chimera? And what was that magic coming from here?” Gilthunder scanned the area; he thought he’d caught a glimpse of a young man earlier, but there was no one like that now.

“I saw him, I think,” Griamore said uncertainly. “That was probably…the captain of the Dawn Roar, an order of Holy Knights just assembled by His Majesty, and operating under his direct control. If I’m not mistaken, his name is Slader.”

“Slader, huh? I suppose father got worried and sent him to check on us.”

At Veronica’s words, Griamore nodded. “I’m sure that’s it. Perhaps he saw something with his Vision.”

Gilthunder gazed once again at the old castle and the island. Half of the outcropping had burst and crumbled away. As for the castle, the keep was unharmed, but the two towers tilted dangerously, and a section of the ramparts had cracked and collapsed.

“…”

Gilthunder got up shakily and strode to meet the shoreline.

Silver feathers washed up at his feet.

“Blanca…” Her proud wolf’s body had sunk into the lake, probably never to surface again.

I’m—tired. Of bearing it alone.

The sentiment that had dominated his mind earlier—wasn’t it Blanca’s as well?

Someone like me ought to just fade away, no doubt.

I want to relax. Soon. I’ll give up on everything.

I know how you feel—Blanca, Gilthunder whispered in his heart. I thought so, too…maybe this whole time.

In truth, perhaps she was an opponent he wasn’t supposed to fight.

Even so. Even so.

What do you need to do?

What he needed to do. There was—only one thing.

I have to…protect Margaret.

Gilthunder slowly turned around.

Elizabeth and the others were watching him curiously, while Margaret stood still beside them.

For just a moment, their gazes intersected, but before long she looked down. Gilthunder, too, looked away, toward the ruined old castle.

Recite it when you’re down and out but can’t depend on anybody—“I’m stronger than any of the Seven Deadly Sins.”

Stronger than any of the Seven Deadly Sins.

It probably didn’t just mean magical and martial power.

It was said that the seven had committed “sins” worthy of a thousand deaths—but overcoming that, they tried to protect others.

That’s their strength.

Surely, he needed to acquire it as well.

No matter whom he hurt.

Even if it meant wronging those like Blanca who suffered as he did.

Isn’t that so, Meliodas? Gilthunder whispered in his heart again.

5

“How could you do such a horrible thing! Gil almost died!”

Meanwhile—atop a hill that overlooked the lake, Vivian was lashing out at Hendrickson. “You promised that no matter what happens, you will at least spare Gil!”

“I know. Don’t get so angry. It was just a little mishap,” Hendrickson said like it was nothing and cupped his chin. “I guess in the end, the core has to be a human—and an ordinary one would be of no use. Right, it must be on the level of a Holy Knight—”

“Hey, Hendrickson, are you listening?”

Ignoring Vivian’s protests, Hendrickson sunk into his own thoughts. “Perhaps—yes, the fairy corpse I acquired recently…Or does it have other uses…”

A strong wind blew, stirring up the rich smell of water and earth. For just a moment, the scent reminded the terrible Holy Knight Captain of his home deep in the forest where he’d spent his earliest days. Quickly, however, it was painted over by darkness.

“Let’s go, Vivian.”

“Really, you handle your people so roughly.”

With a wave of Vivian’s staff, the two of them disappeared in a blink.

On the lake, the wakes of two boats returning to the island were a pale glimmer.