Will bowed before her, then adjusted his monocle and turned, walking into the banquet hall that had already melted into darkness.
So, she would also fulfill her promise.
Treya held the Shadow Nightmare Sword horizontally before her.
Grasping the bandage-wrapped hilt, she declared, “Zero Demon City, unfolds here.”
She slowly drew the sword from its sheath. As the black Shadow Nightmare Sword was drawn, Treya saw the faint moonlight reflecting off its darkened blade.
Her own eyes burned with a purple radiance.
“Coverage area: the entire Royal Palace.”
The instant she unleashed the sword, a ripple, like ink spreading in water, began from her high heels on the ground. Everything it touched turned into a frozen black and white.
“Hoo…”
Treya took a deep breath, gazing at the preparation room for the Coliseum before her.
“As I thought, this is undoubtedly where I’m meant to be.”
At the end of the Coliseum’s preparation room, a bright light shone. Simultaneously, she could hear the sound of the Undead Swordsman sharpening the edges of her 333 swords.
Knowing that Will’s side was the real world had cleared many things up for Treya, like the clouds parting to reveal the sun. Will had created a “reality anchor” for Treya within a seemingly dream-like “story.” By regarding any place he was in as “truthful” reality, she could now see through many deceptions.
For example…
The “mission” she had repeatedly completed, the formidable enemy she had repeatedly challenged, the battles she had repeatedly lost…
These were all a “nightmare” fabricated by demons, a “contract ceremony” disguised as her Coronation Ceremony.
The core strength of demons was never their “illusions,” nor their “memories,” nor even the “dreamscapes” that maximized both. These were merely tools they employed, illusions crafted to achieve their objectives.
“What demons crave most, what they desire above all else, is a ‘contract.'”
“It’s what you agree to with them.”
“It’s what you unequally acknowledge after placing your trust in them.”
“And…”
“It’s what you are recognized for after undergoing a proper ‘ceremony.'”
Illusions could make you misunderstand the true meaning behind a contract. Memories allowed them to better understand where you could be exploited. Dreamscapes enabled them to conduct a sufficiently binding ritual as they wished.
“The black and white me I saw was certainly part of their scheme.”
She recalled the strange dream preceding her battle with the Undead Swordsman a few days prior. That dream, combined with an assassination attempt just before it, had instilled in her the thought of “abandoning her real self.”
And the demons… they had appeared with “suspiciously convenient timing” then.
“A battle that seemingly ‘redeemed’ me, helping me find the meaning of life, was in reality… a contract ritual to merge me with Zero Demon City, to make ‘Treya’ disappear completely – just as they intended during my Coronation Ceremony.”
She should have realized it sooner. The words the demons whispered when she first danced with her sword, when she encountered them in the Demon Pot…
They had always hinted that they had more than one identity. And they had always hinted that if she accepted, she would eventually become one of them.
This wasn’t something she could have simply resolved by slaying that “self” back then. The demon she truly needed to kill, to send to hell fiercely, was the “former king” of all Entak, all ten emperors who had ever existed in Zero Demon City.
“…If I recall correctly, this is my eleventh time here. Demons are fond of the number ‘thirteen.’ Does this battle have two more rounds?”
Treya lifted her sword, not returning it to its sheath.
*Screeeech—*
Her first step was to tear her overly cumbersome “banquet” queen’s gown from the hem of her thigh-high stockings. It was now shortened to a more practical length.
Then—
The dark, “demonic” shadow power surged beneath her feet. The power to construct physical forms. It spread from her high heel’s heel, creeping up to her sturdy calf, enveloping her entire pair of exquisite high heels, finally forming a pair of silver boots at her feet.
Her favorite and most suited attire. And also, very close to the outfit she wore during that sword dance years ago.
“Heh. Here, do I also need to perform a sword dance I failed to complete back then?”
She walked step by step towards the deepest part.
“You’ve finally arrived! You’ve finally arrived! Do you know? We’ve been waiting for you here for so long…”
*Slash.*
A management demon of the Coliseum, fluttering nearby, had its head split open by Treya’s swift sword strike. Its skull spun in the air, while blood splattered from its severed body, falling to the ground. It became the most vibrant red in this black and white world.
“I know you’re lying to me. This Coliseum is no longer the one where I defeated the Undead Swordsman countless times.”
Treya noticed. The place disguised as the Coliseum was constantly extending its layers. She estimated that the thirteenth round might be the final stage of Zero Demon City.
“Your… Majesty… Why… are you so… angry…?”
“You know very well.”
“We… have done this… every time… Why… won’t you…”
There was no pity in Treya’s eyes as she continued forward. Stepping out of the narrow corridor, the black sun hanging overhead cast the entire Coliseum in an eerie silence. The ground was empty following the death of the administrator. However, the emaciated Undead Swordsman, who controlled 333 swords, remained seated amidst the sword graves of other undead swordsmen, perched on her own flying swords.
The Undead Swordsman, Reyel, was written by Will as her nemesis. If Reyel’s strength were only as described by Will, it would have been manageable. But the Undead Swordsman before her was not.
Treya’s deep purple eyes flashed to their fullest intensity. She saw the threads entwined around this child. Was her supposed nemesis, the Undead Swordsman, a “puppet” of the demons of Zero Demon City?
No wonder the more she fought here, the deeper she seemed to sink, and a mere “injury” would be deemed a “failure” and she’d be ejected.
“Will re-hosting this banquet reminded me…”
Treya dodged to the side, evading the first sword strike from the Undead Swordsman, which came slashing down from above. The Undead Swordsman, wielding 333 swords, her first strike was merely a “warning.” A storm of fury awaited Treya.
“—That sword dance of mine during my Coronation Ceremony that year.”
In the black and white, the shadows were black, the sky was black, and only the swords wielded by the phantom of the Undead Swordsman were white. And only…
Treya’s left eye, emitting a strange yet certain light.
