Published: January 24, 2026
“Mr. Oliver…?”
Luna’s expression changed to one of shock at the unexpected appearance.
“…It’s been a while, Luna.”
Oliver turned toward Luna and smiled at her.
(He’s back to the old Mr. Oliver…)
Seeing Oliver’s face, Luna whispered in her heart.
His current expression was no longer the burdened one he had since last year’s joint subjugation; it had returned to the bright and clear demeanor he showed when genuinely enjoying the Great Labyrinth conquest with Orun and Luna.
“…That’s quite the greeting, Oliver.”
Belia, who should have been struck directly by Oliver’s Heavenly Flash, stood there without showing any effect.
“This is how you greet us, right? I learned that from you ten years ago, so I adapted to your style. You should be grateful, not criticize.”
Oliver shifted his gaze from Luna to Belia, speaking calmly.
“Are you talking about when you attacked your village? Holding a grudge about something from ten years ago is just pathetic.”
The Cyclamen Cult, led by Belia, had attacked the village where Orun and Oliver lived about ten years ago.
Their first strike was a large-scale magic attack without warning, which wiped out about seventy percent of the village and took the lives of most residents.
Oliver and Orun’s memories were rewritten immediately after that battle.
For Oliver, who had regained his memories less than a year ago, this was far from just an event from ten years ago.
Knowing this, Belia deliberately gave a provocative response to shake Oliver’s resolve.
“Hah, and here you are, still hung up on something from hundreds of years ago. How ridiculous.”
Oliver scoffed at Belia’s reply.
Belia’s eyes hardened at Oliver’s words.
“A replica that’s lost its value of existence…”
“Hahaha! You don’t mean to say you’ve been saying those things just to unsettle me, do you?”
Contrasting with Belia’s cold aura, Oliver smiled.
But the next moment, his smile faded as he spoke seriously.
“That’s off the mark. I’ve long since come to terms with that stuff. My future isn’t decided by you or Amuntzarse—it’s determined by me!!”
“…Is that so? Then why have you appeared before me? Don’t tell me you’re here to kill me, as a joke.”
“I wouldn’t be that reckless. Even Orun on that day, fully using his supernatural ability, could only manage to blow off your left arm. I’m well aware I’m no match for you now.”
Oliver answered cheerfully.
(Something’s off. Why is Oliver here at this timing?)
Belia frowned, whispering in her mind.
(If he has no intent to interfere with me, then logically it would be better for him to fight on another battlefield to protect even a single civilian. But… ah, I see now.)
Unable to read Oliver’s true intentions, Belia looked at the flow of mana around him and guessed what he was trying to do.
“Ha ha ha. That’s an interesting idea, Oliver. Or is it Titania’s suggestion?”
“…What are you talking about?”
Oliver tensed but played dumb.
“You can do as you like, but letting you have your way so easily wouldn’t be fun.”
Belia murmured while gripping her sword.
Immediately, she closed the gap between them in an instant.
“!”
Holding her breath, Oliver barely reacted.
Their swords clashed with great force.
The impact was so strong that cracks spread across the ground.
“Mr. Oliver!?”
“Hahaha! You can react to this one, huh.”
“Ugh!”
Unlike Belia’s cool expression, Oliver’s face twisted in pain.
A geometric pattern began to appear in Oliver’s left eye, and golden mana started to leak out.
“…Hmph, that left eye. A mere replica dares to reach for the principle of demons?”
Belia muttered, realizing that Oliver’s left eye had fused with the Spirit's Eye.
“I’m not the same as ten years ago either!”
Oliver shouted while activating Mana Convergence.
The visible golden mana gathered on Oliver’s back.
Gradually, it formed wings.
“An angel…?”
Luna whispered, staring at Oliver’s back.
Oliver spread his wings vigorously, and golden feathers danced around him.