Shinji Matou at Your Service

"Even this can't kill him?"

More than one person felt powerless. Among those gathered in front of the crystal ball, except for Satsuki, none were weak. Although they were not at the scene, the footage clearly showed how powerful Shinji's move, Heaven's Judgment, was. It was a destructive force that even grand magecraft might not achieve.

Yet, such an attack, which destroyed thirty phantom assaults, did not harm the dead apostle. At least, it appeared that way.

"Miss Shion, what on earth is going on?"

Akiha asked.

Not just her, everyone wanted to know. Without an answer, defeating the Night of Wallachia was out of the question.

"…"

Surprisingly, Shion, who always answered questions, said nothing this time.

"Miss Shion? Miss Shion?"

Akiha turned her head to see Shion's pale face, her body curled up tightly and trembling all over.

"Miss Shion, are you alright?"

It was only then that Shion came back to her senses. She put her hand to her mouth and bit down hard. After biting for a while, she released and replied:

"I'm fine."

"Fine?"

Riesbyfe's gaze fixed on Shion's bitten left hand, a strange look on her face.

"I'm just a bit overworked."

Shion's expression returned to its usual sternness.

"It's a common problem for alchemists from Atlas. Overexerting mental power results in this."

"Then you should rest."

Hearing Touko say this, Riesbyfe stopped pressing the issue.

"Ah, okay."

Shion nodded quickly, casting a sidelong glance at Touko, only to find her looking back with a meaningful expression, causing Shion to be startled.

Could she have… figured it out?

"Miss Akiha, what did you just say?"

"I wanted to ask how the Night of Wallachia survived the previous attack?"

"I don't have a definitive answer, but based on current information, it is highly likely that the Night of Wallachia has assimilated with nature, becoming a phenomenon, like a mirage."

"Then how can we defeat him?"

Shiki couldn't sit still. Until just now, he thought he could use his Mystic Eyes to deliver a fatal blow.

As long as it's alive, no matter what it is, I'll kill it—this was Ryougi Shiki's evaluation of the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception. But can phenomena be considered alive? Even if they are, can he understand their death?

"I don't know."

Sion sighed. It was the first time they had seen her show such a clear emotion, an emotion called despair.

"The transformation of TATARI has exceeded my calculations. I always thought TATARI would have to wait until the next cycle to reappear once its body collapsed…"

She had spent three years scheming and betting everything to defeat the Night of Wallachia, but now—

At this moment, Touko suddenly spoke.

"It's not time for despair yet. Look closely."

Look closely. At what?

Of course, the crystal ball. More specifically, Matou Shinji in the crystal ball, still displaying a composed attitude.

Even as the Night of Wallachia reformed and the phantoms reappeared, his face still bore a smile, like a judge at the edge of a stage, passing judgment on the performers.

"First, I must admit, you are an extraordinary monster, able to assimilate yourself with nature in such a way, extending your existence indefinitely. Perhaps your combat prowess isn't top-tier among the Dead Apostles, but your ability to prolong your life is undoubtedly the best of our time. With your talent, if you hadn't chosen this path, you would undoubtedly have led an era."

"Heh, don't rush to take such a high stance. I know your pursuits and greatly admire them. Unfortunately, our positions are different. You are a Dead Apostle, and I promised two people that I would help them hunt Dead Apostles—are you ready to die here?"

"You will soon know what method I will use—"

Shinji once again pointed his finger towards the sky.

"—Heaven's Judgment, Second Shot! Moon's Crown, Shooting Right at Your Face, in the Name of the Moon, I'll Punish You."

Under the moonlight once more, a pure white manifestation appeared.

However, this time it wasn't white light or a meteorite, but a person, a woman.

Dressed in an elegant, noble white gown, with smooth golden hair flowing to her waist, and golden eyes radiating endless majesty. The moonlight bathed her, gathering at her feet as she walked down, descending to the mortal realm.

At the first sight of this woman, everyone had the same thought: this woman was the incarnation of the moon.

The moment the woman descended, the black mist suddenly began to boil, as if in fear, or perhaps in questioning.

Who, who exactly are you?

"The Judge of the Moon—Crimson Moon, such a title is fitting, isn't it?"

As soon as these words fell, a strong wind erupted from the center of the black mist on the rooftop, a mist that could reform into a black hole regardless of the attack.

Under the influence of this strong wind, the black mist was swept away in a matter of seconds, along with the reappearing phantoms.

When the black mist dissipated and the phantoms crumbled, a man suddenly appeared on the rooftop.

The man wore a scholar's robe popular a century ago, wrapped in a large cloak, his yellow shawl constantly trembling. His handsome face, twisted in anger and astonishment, turned the man's entire aura into madness.

Seeing this person, Sion stood up from the sofa at once, shouting in disbelief.

"How is this possible? Zepia Eltnam Atlasia!!! Has the Night of Wallachia reverted to its original form?"

Not only Sion, but Zepia himself was also shouting:

"Impossible, absolutely impossible for such an absurd thing to happen. Even if you are a royal of the True Ancestors, you can't revert me, who has become a phenomenon, back to my original form!"

"Ignorant."

The princess arrogantly raised her snow-white neck, looking down on Zepia from a high position.

"Wake up from your dream, Dead Apostle. It's your freedom to believe that having infinite time will let you comprehend the Sixth Magic, and betting on that minuscule possibility has nothing to do with me. However, even if you spend millions of years, you will never comprehend the Sixth Magic. This form is your end, the end after seeking miracles and failing."

"What did you do?!!!"

Zepia roared hysterically.

"Don't you understand? Fool! Look up!"

Arcuid raised her hand in the same gesture as Shinji.

"The Crimson Moon is hanging above you."

"!!!"

At some point, the bright moon in the sky had been dyed with a vivid red, the once slightly imperfect moon now perfectly round. It was the legendary Blood Moon, also known as the Crimson Moon.

The Crimson Moon was not only Arcuid's title but also the name of this extraordinary spectacle.

The Crimson Moon descends!