“Why are you standing in my way?”

“I’m sorry.”

I strengthened my arms with all my might. There was plenty of Magical Energy in the environment. The air was full of the Mana from the lance. Therefore, I continued to cycle the energy, until my Magic Circuits began to burn from the strain.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You were just acting based on the Contract of Atlas, which told you to imitate the mind of King Arthur to the best of your ability, but you ended up malfunctioning as a result. We only care about ourselves… sometimes we give you commands, other times, we try to stop you… and now, we’re preparing to destroy you.”

I didn’t know why, but I felt my eyes moisten.

What stood in front of me was neither the mind of King Arthur, my mother, nor the real Logos ReAct. She was an amalgam of the three.

However, at the same time, I felt that she was also myself.

I recalled how it felt, being transformed into the body of King Arthur, becoming the vessel of their worship, and never even thinking to resist.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But I can’t back down.”

My scythe slowly moved toward my opponent. The reconstructed Sister Illumia and Bersac should have come to stop me, but it seemed like my mentor and the knight had managed to stop them. There was no one to interfere with the fight between Logos ReAct and I.

“What is this? Is it Rhongomyniad? No, the structure is different. What is this?” Logos ReAct asked, staring at my scythe.

“To you, it’s probably the Holy Lance, Rhongomyniad,” I said.

The lance reciprocated my effort.

Though it did not speak or mock me, it still helped me, as usual.

“But, to me, it’s different,” I shouted, ignoring the pain that tore through my body as if my nerves were being torn from me. “To me, this is Add!”

I clenched the scythe even tighter. I poured out all my thoughts to this fickle thing that did not answer me anymore.

“It’s my, friend!”

“……”

For a moment, Logos ReAct was speechless.

“…Why am I here… I don’t understand… this is illogical… cannot comprehend… cannot reach a judgement… the theory is contradictory… the calculations cannot be made complete…”

As she muttered those words, she became weaker and weaker.

“What is, death?”

Perhaps that was the last question she ever asked.

She gave up all of her resistance.

The blade of my scythe cleaved through the woman’s body.

Lord El-Melloi II's Case Files: The Atlas Contract (Upper); Chapter 5, Part 3