The clear sky suddenly grows overcast with black clouds concentrated directly above the courtyard. A heavy rain strikes so hard upon the pavement that it makes breathing difficult. In the reflection of their barely-opened eyes, Yuuri stands gazing at Wolfram.

“...Your Majesty?” Günter ventures timidly, but Yuuri doesn’t even turn to look at him.

His tone—even his voice—seems to belong to another person.

“You refuse to accept your defeat, flouting the rules and engaging in reckless behavior. In the end you involve an innocent girl—yet you covet a victory still.”

“Wh-what are you talking about? And what’s with that pretentious tone!”

“Is this what you call a true duel?! If that is the case, I cannot allow one such as you to continue unchecked! The spilling of blood is not my intention, but you leave me with no other choice—I will cut you down!”

“What?!”

Though he may have said ‘cut’, Yuuri’s weapon is not the sword.

“Judgment!”

Like Wolfram’s fire-beast, magic materializes from the tips of his fingers and takes the form of two fanged snakes of the same water-blue as the striking rain.

“How do I put this?—that, well, doesn’t look very kingly.”

“Putting that aside, whenever did His Majesty form a covenant with the elements of water? And controlling the particles without speaking even a word of command is next to impossible. How is he doing this without being taught anything at all...?”

As if he doesn’t hear the two members of the Yuuri Faction putting forth their unsolicited opinions, Gwendal murmurs softly, “So I see—this proves the soul is genuine?”

The flanks of the glistening, half-transparent snakes wriggling in midair hazily form the characters for ‘justice’. Complete incongruity. They unerringly coil around their MazokuMazoku (魔族)

Lit.: "demon clan" or "demon tribe", the people of Shinma Kingdom. They are much more long-lived than humans, and their actually age is usually five times that of their physical appearance. prey. Wolfram lets out an un-Wolfram-like scream and struggles to break free. Flame blazes from his fingertips again and again at his command, but is snuffed out by the heavy rain each time: evidence of the Water Sorcerer’s strength over the Fire Sorcerer. Victory and defeat of elemental avatars in battle is decided by the capacity and power of the summoner.

“Let me go, damn you! How are you suddenly... What the hell are you?!”

“What am I? Do you still not recognize my face?”

They’ve now completely entered historical-drama mode.

“Your egotism, which takes an innocent girl’s life, must absolutely not be forgiven.”

“Guh...!”

As the snakes (Justice No. 1 and No. 2) tighten their coils around Wolfram to carry out the punishment, a soldier shouts happily, “Ooooy! She’s come around, her life’s not in danger!”

In the man’s arms, the girl has regained consciousness. She opens her eyes, moans softly, and brings her hand up to her face.

“...Why...am I...”

Yuuri and Wolfram both look at them. Wolfram does not attempt to justify himself. Kill me if you’re going to kill me—humiliating as it is for him to be vanquished by this kid (who, sure, might be somewhat good-looking), he would rather go meet a soldier’s manly death than fall to his knees and beg for his life.

But the water snakes coiled around him up to his head suddenly vanish as if they’ve evaporated. He drops weakly to the ground. Yuuri, his radiant, inhuman eyes blazing, points at Wolfram and declares, “Wolfram or some-such, take care to reform yourself hereafter! Even those above have compassion.”

“Com...compassion?”

The self-proclaimed member of ‘those above’ crumbles into the muddy water with a loud splash.