The lingering glow of the sunset wrapped the entire city of Xianyang in a warm, hazy golden hue, like molten gold.
A gentle breeze carried the faint sounds of machinery operating at the bottom of the sea of clouds and the distant bustle of the market, making everything feel incredibly peaceful and beautiful.
Steve lay sideways on the bench, his short black hair spilling onto Fujimaru's deep blue skirt.
He kept his eyes closed, savoring the sensation of the girl's fingertips gently stroking his hair. It was far more addictive than even the highest-grade ether massage.
This feels incredibly comfortable...
He let out an almost despairing sigh in his heart.
He was clearly a time traveler, a great figure possessing world-shaking wisdom and countless futuristic secret techniques. In another timeline, he had even guided humanity toward the stars.
Yet at this moment, faced with an ordinary girl named Fujimaru Ritsuka, he felt his heart—battered by the storms of life—softening at an unbelievable speed.
Was this the magical power of Humanity's Last Master?
No, to be precise, it was the maternal instinct capable of embracing and healing everything.
Steve, the man who perfectly replicated its peculiar fetishism, was now facing the greatest philosophical crisis of his life.
He had firmly believed that the ultimate destination of his soul was a Motherly Girliness—a delicate, soft-bodied girl who had not yet fully matured but possessed a heart as vast as the earth.
Someone like Lalah Sune, who could guide and accept him.
However...
He opened his eyes slightly, and before him was Ritsuka's face with a gentle smile.
She was looking down at him steadily. Her eyes overflowed with unconditional trust and deep affection.
The setting sun danced and sparkled on her orange hair, as if adorning her with the halo of the Virgin Mary.
How could this child—who was more of a quiet young woman (and with quite a good figure)—emit such a maternal radiance?
She felt more like a mother than a real mother!
"Steve?"
Ritsuka seemed to notice his gaze and asked gently, "Can't you sleep?"
"No... I was just thinking about something very important."
Steve turned over and, even more boldly, buried his face in the girl's soft stomach, taking a deep breath.
The scent of her body and the sun instantly filled his senses.
"Ritsuka..."
He said in a muffled voice.
"Hmm?"
"If I said I want to stay in this position for the rest of my life and never stand up again, would you think I'm being unreasonable?"
Ritsuka was stunned for a moment, then her cheeks flushed bright red. She didn't stop her hand; instead, she stroked the back of his head even more gently.
"If... if it's you, Steve... well, as long as you don't mind my legs going numb... you can stay as long as you like."
Listen to this!
Listen to this angelic speech!
Steve felt his rational defense mechanisms completely collapsing.
Screw Motherly Girliness!
Screw ideal type!
Wasn't this girl in front of him—who could unconditionally accept even an annoying adult—the perfect answer?
After all, the principle of smells good was a universal truth.
...
However, just as Steve was immersed in the joy of love and seriously considering whether he should abandon the entire forest for these lap pillows—
In the distant Lostbelt No. 4, where the flow of time differed greatly from the outside world, people fell into extreme depression and madness.
This was a land enveloped in scorching heat and endless cycles of life.
A massive God's Skyboulder resembling the eye of a god floated in the sky, coldly watching over all life on the ground.
Here, time was not linear but divided into countless cycles by a singular God.
Creation, maintenance, destruction.
It continued without end.
Beside the ruins of an unremarkable village, a figure in a white robe with fluffy orange hair sat on a broken stone pillar, holding an empty water jug and gazing up at the sky with a despairing expression.
There was no way the people of Chaldea could mistake that face.
It was the doctor Romani Archaman, who had traveled with them through the seven singularities in the first book and ultimately sacrificed himself in the Temple of Time to save humanity.
But at this moment, the eyes of this Doctor Roman held none of the man's usual kindness or timidity. Instead, they contained a coldness befitting the King of Magecraft... and a deep sense of powerlessness.
He was a Chaldean.
More precisely, he was the impostor named Lev Lainur Floros, but his inner self was the remnant of Goetia.
"...Ah, again."
He let out a long sigh as he watched the white curtain of light—symbolizing the world's reset—slowly approaching from the distant horizon.
"How many times has this happened? A hundred? A thousand? When is that Arjuna going to stop playing these childish games?"
He grumbled, irritation evident in his tone.
What troubled him, however, was not only the terrifying environment of this Lostbelt but also the variable known as Steve.
As someone who had inherited part of Goetia's power and memories, he possessed his own pride and principles of action.
He could not accept the fact that the real Roman had vanished without a trace.
Since that man had abandoned everything, as the one who had crawled out of his corpse, he had the duty to complete the unfinished work—and to do it better and more perfectly.
Even if it was to mock the man's naivety, even if it was to prove "I am stronger than you," he had resolved to pour his all into saving innocent lives in this dying Lostbelt.
His original plan had been perfect.
Using his knowledge and power as Solomon, he traveled the Lostbelt, healing the wounded, guiding the lost, and bringing a fleeting moment of hope and peace to those destined to perish before the world was covered in stone.
In this way, these achievements would be recorded in the foundation of his spirit.
After everything ended, this tremendous feat might be enough to deceive the Throne of Heroes and allow the true Roman to manifest once more as a Servant.
It was supposed to be a grand performance full of tragic beauty and the spirit of self-sacrifice.
But...
That damn bastard Steve ruined everything!
"...Take it all? Reverse substitution? You've got to be kidding!"
The Lev Goetia slammed the empty kettle onto the ground with a clack. "Russia, Northern Europe, and even the Qin Dynasty!"
"That guy... that guy doesn't follow the rules at all!"
The worlds that were supposed to perish in sorrow were now transforming one by one into vibrant, so-called New Worlds full of life!
What was this?
It was as ridiculous as preparing a solemn eulogy for a funeral, only for the coffin lid to suddenly open and the deceased to jump out and start doing the disco.
"Now that the world has been saved and everyone has survived, what meaning is there in this trivial rescue work I'm doing here?"
He looked at his own hands. Hands that had once been stained with blood were now rough and worn from years of performing life-saving surgeries.
"If even tragedy no longer exists, where does the value of salvation come from?"
What irritated him even more was that, due to Steve's completely unreasonable spatial manipulation, the relocated Lostbelts had completely vanished from his observation range.
He could no longer even be sure whether Fujimaru Ritsuka's journey would be filled with hardship and growth as he had once foreseen with his clairvoyance.
If everything proceeded so smoothly and easily... then he, the villain who had deliberately appeared to support Roman's achievements, would look like nothing more than a clown.
"Oh my, our doctor seems to be in a bad mood?"
A seductive voice suddenly came from behind.
The Lev Goetia frowned and turned around. A man in tight-fitting, flashy clothes was approaching with cat-like steps.
It was one of the members of Group A and the person in charge of this Lostbelt—Scandinavian Peperoncino.
"Peperoncino."
The Lev Goetia called out the name coldly. "What are you doing here? Have you come to mock me?"
"How could that be? I was really worried about you."
Peperoncino walked over, sat down without hesitation on the dusty ground, rested his chin on his hand, and looked at him. "Ever since that new Chaldean servant appeared, everyone's scenarios have gone completely haywire."
"Even my ally, the God, has been getting more and more neurotic lately."
"Hmph, that's a problem for you Crypters."
The Lev Goetia turned his face away. "I only think about my own objectives."
"Yes, yes, all for that non-existent doctor."
Peperoncino narrowed his eyes, a sharp insight flashing through them. "But seriously, if that Steve really has the ability to drag this entire reincarnation hell along with him... wouldn't that actually be a good thing for the residents here?"
"..."
The Lev Goetia remained silent.
He certainly knew it would be a good thing.
For life, survival itself is the greatest justice.
...But he wasn't happy about it!
He was angry that his plans had gone awry, angry that the man named Steve had stolen his thunder, and even angrier at the realization deep in his heart that he had harbored a faint expectation toward the man who could achieve a perfect ending—an expectation he did not want to admit to himself.
"Damn it..."
He gritted his teeth, picked up the kettle from the ground, and stood up.
"No matter what that bastard does, I'll do what I have to do."
He gazed at the distant village writhing in the agony of samsara, golden light flickering in his eyes.
"As long as this Lostbelt exists for even a moment, I will save every villager during that moment."
"This is... the path that humans never give up on."
"Even if, in the end, Steve stole all the credit?"
Peperoncino joked.
"Shut up."
The Lev Goetia snorted coldly, turned around, and walked toward the village. His retreating figure carried stubbornness and a faint loneliness.
Peperoncino watched him from behind, a meaningful smile playing on his lips.
"This is truly interesting... This restoration of Human Order drama is far more stimulating than I imagined."
…
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