On a barren, desolate land, only a handful of drought-resistant plants could survive in this water-scarce region. Because resources for sustaining life were extremely limited, no humans lived here.

On the wind-lashed ground, only Mengyue lay there unconcerned about the swirling sand, her whole body spread out in a large “大” shape. Staring at the same clear blue sky this world always had, her pupils carried a deep sense of confusion.

Since arriving in this world, a full year had passed according to the “Real World” calculation. And counting the time she actually spent in the Real World herself, it added up to roughly a month and a half.

From the very beginning—when she appeared here dazed and was chased by AST—she had gradually adapted to this world.

She could now choose her landing point in the Real World to a certain degree, and she could suppress her spatial quakes to a relatively safe range. Although she still didn’t know how to remain in the real world for long periods, in practice she no longer needed to fear AST’s pursuit nor worry about bringing disaster to humans.

And yet, Mengyue discovered that an empty hole had quietly formed in her heart.

Not knowing what could fill it, she tried to escape through endless browsing and gaming on her computer, but soon, everything she did began to feel dull and tasteless.

When she realized the computer and internet were bringing her less and less satisfaction, Mengyue decided to stop thinking about the issue—otherwise, she feared she would eventually grow sick of the only hobby she had left.

Mengyue lifted her right hand before her eyes, blocking the direct sunlight.

What on earth is wrong with me? she asked herself again and again.

It was that feeling of getting lost along the road of life, unsure of the meaning of one’s own existence.

It sounded slightly like a middle-school delusion, but Mengyue truly was lost.

No longer needing to worry about hurting others, no longer needing to worry about being hurt, avoiding crowds, slipping past people, quietly doing the things she enjoyed…

Is it really okay to just keep living like this?

Did she not come here with something she could accomplish?

Wasn’t there some greater pursuit she should be chasing?

Mengyue kept questioning herself.

“Come to think of it, in most transmigration novels, the protagonist is always determined to build a harem of beauties…”

But as someone who loathed harem anime, Mengyue rejected the idea the moment it surfaced in her mind.

“If I’ve crossed worlds… what is it that I want to do?”

Watching the clouds drifting in the sky, Mengyue fell into quiet thought.

Back in that last moment before she died—what wish had she made?

[As a shut-in, of course I’d wish to stay indoors forever, never worry about food or money, and devote myself entirely to otaku culture!]

“…That’s not it.”

[As an ordinary person, in the next life I’d obviously wish for extraordinary abilities and to live a passionate, thrilling, unbelievable life.]

“No.”

[As a slandered spirit, I would obviously wish to give that guy a good beating and make him turn me into a human afterward.]
(Author flees…)

“…I mean, that isn’t exactly wrong, but there’s no way I said something like that!”

Mengyue smiled wryly. Too many troublesome things had happened after she arrived in this world. In the end, she had actually forgotten the most important thing.

“Pardon the interruption, Miss Ryougi Mengyue. What a strange posture—are you sunbathing, perhaps?”

A seductive voice suddenly echoed from all around her.

Her pupils shrank. Mengyue immediately rose to her feet, entering alert mode. Even though she had been spacing out, she had never dropped her vigilance. According to her electromagnetic detection, there should have been no one else around.

Though the blazing sun cast no large shadows, a huge silhouette stretched across the ground—and from within that shadow, a figure slowly emerged.

Her beauty was so exquisite it felt artificial. She wore a headpiece. Her torso was clad in a tight outfit, and her skirt was decorated with excessive frills and lace. All of it was adorned with midnight black reminiscent of the late night, and a sheen as red as fresh blood.

And finally, for some reason, her hair was tied unevenly on the left and right—like the hour hand and minute hand of a clock.

Seeing Mengyue’s intense vigilance, the girl’s lips curled upward, blooming into a forbidden, poppy-like smile.

“Ara ara~ no need for such a wary look. We’re both Spirits—let’s get along, shall we?”

Yes—the girl before her was the same as Mengyue: a Spirit.

But in response to the girl’s goodwill, Mengyue replied in the roughest way possible.

A bolt of lightning struck down.

The powerful thunderbolt turned the ground into a field of charred earth. Yet from that blackened soil, the girl emerged unharmed from within her shadow.

“Ara ara~ such a violent greeting, Miss Mengyue! I thought you’d be a little more refined.”

Facing the girl’s question, Mengyue sneered:

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking what’s wrong with you? When did you ever get the impression that we could ‘get along well,’ Nightmare?”

The most ferocious Spirit. Identification code: Nightmare. Her abilities unknown. Though her spatial quakes were ordinary in scale, she had personally killed more than ten thousand humans.

If the Yamai sisters caused only unintentional trouble for humans, this Spirit was a true calamity upon mankind.

To Mengyue, who firmly believed in the principle “Never kill without good reason,” Nightmare—who cut down humans like grass—was her most detested kind of being.

“It seems I’m thoroughly hated. But please, call me Tokisaki Kurumi. Being called ‘Nightmare’ hurts my feelings.”

“No thanks! Our relationship isn’t nearly close enough for me to use your name.”

Mengyue rejected her without mercy.

“That really is heartbreaking! I feel like crying!”

Showing not a hint of disappointment, Kurumi lifted the hem of her frilled skirt and performed a small curtsy.

“But even so, I still hope you can help me with a little request. Don’t worry—it won’t cause you any trouble.”

“Your very presence here is already ruining my mood.”

If she met the Yamai twins or any other Spirit, her mood would’ve been much better. But Tokisaki Kurumi was the one exception—encountering her only worsened Mengyue’s already sour mood.

Violent sparks of lightning crackled fiercely around Mengyue, and the iron sand on the ground danced wildly, reflecting her agitation.

Mengyue didn’t answer Kurumi’s request, but her response was already obvious.

“Looks like I picked the worst possible time to appear.”
Letting out a troubled sigh, Kurumi’s lips curved, and a flash of crimson light glinted in her eyes.

A giant clock silently materialized behind Kurumi. The bangs covering her left eye seemed to be blown aside by an unseen gust.

Mengyue was startled—the girl’s left eye was composed of inorganic gold gears, numbers, and clock hands, intricately arranged. And the hands were turning counterclockwise.

But this was no time to be concerned about that. The fierce aura around them, like gasoline ignited by flame, signaled the start of an imminent battle.

“Manifest—Ratziel, the Dawn Sage!”

“Arise—Zaphkiel, the Emperor of Time!”

At the moment the angels were summoned, the battle between the most perilous and the most ferocious began.

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