"Assassin, Erase My Past" V5 Chapter 2 - The Sudden Assassin
The light coming in through the window changed from moonlight to morning sun. As he watched it, before he knew it, Orphen had fallen asleep. But even then, it was probably only for an hour or so.
He always felt weak when he'd just woken up, but today, to his dismay, that wasn't the case.
(This is always how I feel before something bad happens...)
He mumbled under his breath, then flung off the blanket that he'd covered up with. It was fairly obvious, but Majic was still sleeping soundly in the corner of their cell. Orphen slowly got up and looked around. There didn't seem to be anything strange, but he still had a distinct sense of discomfort.
(I can tell that my body's riled up... Is it some kind of premonition?)
He asked himself and shook his head. That wouldn't make any sense, he chided himself — and, though he wasn't setting out to prove that, he licked his lips. He was thirsty. He always was when he woke up like this, but this morning it felt a little different.
"Majic!"
Orphen shouted and kicked the shoulder of his curled up student, who was still sleeping. Waaahhh! Majic jumped up with a yelp, waving his hands like he was trying to make an excuse for himself.
"I—I wasn't peeping on you—"
"Shut up! We've moved on from that topic!"
Orphen shouted, his expression tightening. He could feel his anxiety growing. He was already convinced of it, even if he had no proof—
(Something happened while I was asleep.)
Without mentioning it to Majic, however, he asked.
"Have you been asleep all night?"
"Huh? — Well, yeah..."
Majic stared at him with a puzzled look on his face. He looked around, fidgeting.
"Ummm... Is this a jail? Why am I also in here?"
"Ask Cleao."
Orphen muttered curtly, in a nasty mood. He ignored Majic, who was looking at him curiously, and touched the doorway of the iron cell. He quickly chanted.
"I tread, through the gate uninvited!"
The sorcery took effect, followed by the sound of the iron gate unlocking. Orphen silently pushed the metal door open and quickly slipped out of the cell. He waited for Majic to follow him, then looked down the hallway that lead to the front office.
"............"
As Orphen idly mulled over his incomplete thoughts, he noticed that Majic had been staring at him for quite some time now. It was pretty normal for him to be kicked out of bed, but the suspicious look in his eyes seemed to indicate that he was wondering something else.
Curious, Orphen asked.
"What's wrong?"
"No, just... Master, where's your pendant?"
"What?"
Orphen reflexively reached for his chest. Normally that's where he'd feel metal — the dragon crest that he always wore was essentially his only form of identification, proof that he was a black-magic sorcerer of the Tower of Fang. However...
He didn't feel the familiar metal. He felt nothing.
"Where...?"
Orphen fumbled around in his pockets. He usually took his pendant off when he went to bed, but he hadn't taken it off last night. In any case, the pendant wasn't in his pockets either.
"I must've dropped it."
"Where?"
"I don't know... Well shit."
Yet, even though he sounded troubled, Orphen's head was still somewhere else.
(The crest of the Tower of Fang is just that, if I don't have it, I don't have it, and that's all there is to it—)
The anxiety that he was feeling didn't end there, though.
"Tch..."
Orphen clicked his tongue while running his hand through his black hair.
Without waiting for his student's answer, he kept his gaze fixed on the hall. It wasn't a long one, and after only a few steps he'd come to the door that opened into the lobby. He grabbed the door knob, making sure it was unlocked, and pushed the door open immediately.
Clack...
The open door bounced against the wall to their right. The lobby was just the room that the entryway opened up into, but it was more like a spacious hallway. The interior was similar to the waiting platform for a coach, and it was here that Orphen had given his statement yesterday. There was a hat rack right outside the doorway, a worn desk, a bottle of wine lying on the floor, and the old ranger sitting in his chair, as if he was sinking into it.
Beyond the ranger's chair was a door that led to the nap room, where Cleao was supposed to be sleeping. Orphen was grimly aware of the horrible feeling stabbing at his chest.
He sighed.
"I guess my concerns were on point."
"... What?"
Orphen stepped into the lobby without answering Majic. He strode straight across to the center of the room.
The old ranger was sound asleep, with his hands folded over his belly, perfectly silent behind his mustache and oblivious to Orphen and Majic, who'd just entered the room.
(The old man told me that there were three rangers staying in this camp — and that all but the old man had houses nearby, so he was the only one that stayed here...)
"Majic."
Orphen called out to his student, who had followed close behind him.
"Y—Yes?"
Majic answered in a startled tone. Looking over his shoulder at the boy's face, Orphen continued.
"Cleao is sleeping in that room over there. Can you bring her out to the wagon?"
He pointed toward the nap room.
Majic yelped, pointing at his scrawny chest.
"Me? You just barely save my life, but this time, she'll kill me for real!"
"Don't worry. Cleao's not angry anymore. I'm sure she felt a lot better after that blow."
"Uhh..."
Majic mumbled, looking unsettled. Orphen walked over to the sleeping ranger as he watched the boy skeptically head for the door of the nap room. With each step of his boots, the wooden floor boards creaked—
Majic opened the door to the nap room.
(He didn't knock.)
Orphen thought to himself, then reached out and touched the old ranger's body. He shook him gently as he spoke.
"Hey, wake up, old man."
He felt like he'd been kicked in the gut by one bad joke after another, but he didn't let it show on his face.
"It's morning. A little early, but still. Get up."
And—
Suddenly, the sound of shattering pottery echoed off the walls. A vase had been thrown at the wall — Or at least, that's what it sounded like.
"Waaaah!"
Majic screamed, followed by Cleao's screams, that seemed to chase right after him.
"What the hell are you doing in here!? You sure are cocky to be standing on two legs less than 24 hours after your punishment!"
"I—It's not like that!"
"Leki! Do it!"
"Master, you lied!"
Along with his sobbing scream an explosion roared out. Majic, who'd been blown out of the nap room by the blast, ran straight out of the station. A moment later, Cleao came bursting out in her nightgown. She was holding the little Deep Dragon, which had its front legs curled up against her chest.
"Wait! I won't be satisfied until I hit you with my own hands!"
She chased Majic out of the office, her blonde bed head fluttering. When the two were finally gone, Orphen let out a small sigh of relief.
"Phew..."
He shook the ranger's body.
Then pulled his hand back. Even after all this fuss, the old man showed no signs of waking up. His eyes were closed peacefully and he wasn't moving a muscle...
Orphen glanced down at the chair. A small puddle had formed and solidified under the chair, which had supported the old man's weight for many years. Even now, small drops were dripping from the chair into the puddle.
It was a small pool of blood.
The blood loss was about as much as if you cut your finger with a knife — it was small droplets that were dripping down from the open wound in the old man's belly. At first glance, the wound appeared to just be a cut to Orphen — a small knife wound at that. Normally, there would've been more blood loss, but the lack of more blood meant that his heart had stopped before receiving the wound. Either he'd died of shock, likely as a result of fear, just before the murder itself, or—
(Or sorcery was used to destroy his internal organs first.)
Orphen quietly mused to himself. If that were the case, it meant that whoever did this killed the ranger with sorcery and then went through the trouble of stabbing the corpse again.
He looked down at the pool of blood and sighed. That anxiety I was feeling must've been because of this, he decided quietly. The blood must've woken him up. The slightest whiff of blood, so faint that Majic and Cleao couldn't even detect it.
"Damn."
Orphen spat. It doesn't make any sense — he thought to himself. The old ranger's death made no sense.
(I'm sure he was killed by somebody else, but... who could've done this?)
The old man's hands were wrapped around the wound in his stomach, pressing down on it. His puffy fingers were covered in blood, and seemed to be pressing against his motionless body.
(Never mind the motive, what about the means? How could they kill someone without me or Majic, who were in the same station, even noticing?)
If so — that wasn't the skill of some common murderer.
(It's a stabber. A damn bold one at that...)
"What does it mean?"
Orphen asked himself, standing up. He looked around the room impatiently — and saw nothing that indicated a confrontation. The ranger must've been killed as he dozed off, or before he realized what was happening.
Orphen looked around with an amateur's eyes, trying to see if there was anything left in the room that might explain the meaning behind the murder. The ranger station was almost as messy as it was when he first saw it. There was only one bottle of liquor still sitting out, but it was already empty.
"What the hell happened? — Damn, how could someone get killed without me even noticing?"
He spat in frustration. When he looked at the wall, he stopped.
"......"
There was the meaning. At least, at the moment he saw it, that's what came to mind.
He'd been so distracted by the ranger's corpse that he hadn't even noticed it until then...
A bloody dagger — the murder weapon, no doubt — was sunk into the wall that the old ranger would've been looking at. His silver pendant, also painstakingly bloodied, was hooked around the blade of the knife. The knife pinned not just the pendant, but also a piece of paper to wall.
Orphen mumbled in horror.
"A warning, or...?"
The piece of paper read "Beware The Tower of Fang."
The difference between human sorcerers and those from the dragon races on Kiesalhima was — in a word — a difference in how they were defined. Their meaning, as it were.
The Dragon races had stolen the secrets of magic directly from the gods and used it in the form of their own 'Sorcery', an event that had taken place several hundred years earlier, while one of the dragon races, the Wyrd Dragon race, had interbred with humans to create offspring, the uniquely gifted human sorcerers.
The circumstances of their occurrence were different — the time period was different — it was only their origin that was the same, but even then, its significance and location were completely different. Currently, the most prosperous race on the continent was probably the human race, but nevertheless, they were still far behind the dragon races in terms of which one had the most overall "power."
There were some sorcerers in the world who stubbornly refused to acknowledge this fact...
At any rate, for now, Majic had firmly vowed in his heart that if he were ever to meet such people, he'd have a thing or two to tell them. Something he decided as he was being burnt to a crisp.
(There's no doubt about it, that thing is a monster...)
He mumbled to himself. He was now just outside of the ranger station. A short carriage road led to the highway. It was still early morning, so it was dimly lit, and the huge trees of the forest that covered this area were floating in the darkness.
Lying face down on the street, Majic looked up — and the first thing he saw was the toes of a familiar pair of sneakers.
They belonged to the blonde-haired girl. Cleao had a pretty serious look on her face all of a sudden as she pecked the small, pitch-black beast that she was holding to the chest of her nightgown with the tip of her nose, cradling him.
"I have just one thing I want to ask you, Majic."
"Okay..."
He had a bad feeling — Please god—
Cleao continued.
"Why did you do such a stupid thing?"
As he wondered why he'd been asked such a difficult question, Majic could only conclude that he'd been praying to the wrong god.
"What do you mean, exactly..."
"Why — did — you — do — it!?"
Cleao didn't relent.
(Actually, I wonder if she's ever been the one to make the concessions.)
As he thought about it, Majic slowly raised his upper body. Cleao was approaching him, the soft tck tck of her shoes on the ground filling the silence. From the back of the station, he could hear the horses neighing.
"Uuhh~mmm"
Majic casually moved into a defensive posture.
"I was... going to get revenge, but..."
"Revenge? For what?"
Cleao asked him with a glare. Majic scratched his cheek.
"No, well, it's just... I've been treated like an errand boy, and I'm always getting in trouble so... I was just going to poke you on the nose."
"... Hmm..."
Cleao stared at him with a suspicious look in her eyes. Majic felt awkward — or rather, he realized that Cleao's attitude was a prelude to an attack — and backed away, but then...
"Hmm."
Cleao repeated and turned her back to him, placing the baby dragon on her left shoulder. Just as she'd placed him there, Majic locked eyes with the little dragon, looking down at him as if looming over him.
(Does that mean...?)
Majic was puzzled. He'd been planning to escape, and was now frozen in a posture that looked like he was trying to swim through the air. He had expected Cleao's usual full-scale attack to begin already.
Cleao didn't even look at him, as if she'd already gotten over the subject. She was just staring at the ranger station. It was rather eerie. Finally, Majic called out to her.
"H—Hey..."
"............"
Cleao didn't reply. She didn't even seem to hear him.
Instead, when she spoke, it was almost in a tone like she was talking to herself.
"Orphen—"
"What?"
"Orphen, what are you doing?"
"............"
Majic stared at the back of Cleao's head, stunned when he couldn't get an answer. He was distracted by the Deep Dragon washing his face in a cat-like gesture, and then the thought suddenly occurred to him.
(Don't tell me she's thinking of waiting until I meet up with Master, then attacking us both...)
But somehow it didn't seem that way. He continued mumbling.
"Master was... acting kind of strange. I don't know what was up with him, but it seemed like he was hiding something..."
"He's been like that for a while now. Haven't you noticed?"
She grumbled in an irritated tone. "What the hell," Majic mumbled. "You've got a bad temper" — he then added.
"All I said was 'it seemed like.' What the hell does Master have to hide from us?"
"...kno..."
He could barely make out her words, but he could see her mouth moving as she turned her head to the side.
"What?"
He thought she was going to look at him and start screaming, but instead she muttered quietly.
"I said I don't know."
"What are you mad about?"
"I'm not mad at you."
She mumbled with a sour face. Majic grumbled, albeit somewhat evasively.
"You're still mad at me, aren't you?"
"I told you I'm not mad."
"Then why are you angry..."
"I'm not angry."
"Oh, look, you're twitching from anger, right there under your earlobe—"
The twitch repeated again and again, especially under her eye—
"Shut up, I'm not angry! But shouldn't I be? You were peeping on me, then you kept talking about me like I was some kind of bully, Orphen is hiding something from me, and I can't even change clothes in my own room because I feel so uncomfortable!"
"Aaaaah! But I'm so relieved that everything is back to normal—!
Majic muttered as he gasped, trying to shake off the hand Cleao had clamped around his neck.
Then—
Majic had a sudden feeling. A horrifying sensation, as if all the blood rushing to his head had suddenly drained down through his neck.
Cleao was still going on.
"And Orphen! He treats me like a burden! He doesn't even give me an allowance! ... Uhh, what's wrong with you?"
Cleao groaned, taken aback.
"Huh?"
Majic answered, trying to turn around to look in the direction that the feeling was coming from — he vaguely thought it was something behind him, but it was more of a guess. Cleao, still not letting go of his neck, mumbled something along the lines of 'What the hell is this?'
"What's the matter with you all of a sudden?"
"No, it's just... something about..."
Mumbling, Majic turned his gaze back to Cleao. The aristocratic-looking girl had the same simple "?" expression on her face as the baby Deep Dragon that had moved onto her head. He looked back at her with a shocked, bewildered expression, but Majic was at a loss — he couldn't explain what he was feeling, because he didn't understand it in the first place. He just... felt something...
(............!)
At that moment, whatever that "something" was, took shape in his mind, revealing itself to Majic's consciousness.
—'Danger'—
Majic immediately hugged Cleao's body, almost clinging to it.
"Wh—What are you doing!?"
Cleao's sobbing voice rang in his ears. Majic ignored it, and shouted with all of his might.
"I spin—"
He felt the magical power instantly weaving together with the incantation in his voice and releasing into space from within his own body.
"I spin, the armor of our halo!"
The human sorcerers on Kiesalhima were, without exception, called Voice Sorcerers—
The name came from the fact that they used their voices, or 'incantations', as a medium for their sorcery. The effects of that sorcery couldn't reach where the voice of the spell couldn't reach, and the effects themselves didn't last forever, because the voice itself couldn't be preserved over time.
Majic's spell was also strongly imbued with his own sorcery — it was extremely difficult to merge one's voice and sorcery, and Majic himself wasn't very successful in doing so, but if he couldn't manage it, he wouldn't be able to cast spells.
'Anyway, this time it worked,' Majic thought to himself. As if in response to his cry, a wall of countless haloes of light surrounded them. Majic continued to pray desperately from within that barrier of light.
(Please, let the danger that I foresee be something that my sorcery can prevent...!)
At that moment—
A crimson flash seared his eyes, as if it had passed through the gaps in the haloes.
(Guh—!)
Boom—!
The blast came rushing in with enough force to crumple the light barrier. The flames were bursting all around them. A raging, violent leap of light erupted, but it wasn't from them.
It was from the ranger station. The whole thing had spontaneously exploded.
—The moment Majic realized what was happening, he lost his strength and the barrier disappeared. The aftermath of the blast had knocked the thin boy to the ground. Cleao, too, had fallen, shielding her baby dragon.
After a moment... both of them picked themselves up at the same time, speechless.
The station had been wiped out without a trace.
Cleao's eyes widened in despair.
Majic, too, stood up, but stayed frozen in place. The station had been gouged out in one fell swoop, like the frail frames often used to prop up a cake, now engulfed in a blinding blaze of fire.
Black smoke was billowing up into the sky, as if oil had set fire...
"Master..."
Majic was about to murmur, until he was shoved aside by Cleao. She stood up quickly, her blonde hair fluttering from the still rippling blast.
"Orphen!"
He heard Cleao's horrified shout. Majic groaned, a similar thought in his head.
(If master was still in that building... there's nothing we could have done for him...)
The ranger station was completely gutted, flames still spewing from its roof. Even Majic and the others, who'd been a good ways from the station had barely been able to shield themselves with sorcery — but if they'd been at the center of that explosion...
Cleao was quicker to react.
"We have to help!"
She yelled and quickly ran towards the burning hut — Majic rushed to grab her arm from behind.
"Wait!"
The next moment Cleao whipped around, as if she'd been shot.
"What are you talking about!?"
She continued in a stern tone.
"Are you going to just let Orphen die!?"
Majic replied with a troubled expression as he let go of her arm for now.
"There's nothing we can do to help him, not from that kind of explosion — Err, I mean—"
He looked at Cleao, who was still glaring at him, and reiterated.
"What I mean is, if Master himself couldn't do anything about it — Well, Master can protect himself much better than we can, right? And even if he can't, what could we possibly do, then?"
But Cleao wasn't convinced.
"You know, even Orphen isn't all-powerful!"
She turned back toward the ranger station, holding Leki. She continued, not looking back.
"He might be passed out in there... Aren't you worried?"
"Of course I'm worried, but there have been so many times that we went and became a liability..."
Hearing Majic's words, Cleao was about to raise her voice in defiance, when...
A voice came out of nowhere.
"—That's right. I just remembered, but yeah, you guys have been slowing him down."
"—!?"
Majic and Cleao both turned around at the same time, but there was no one behind them when they'd thought they'd heard it—
"Who's there!?"
Cleao sharply screamed. Majic, too, looked around, on his guard. There was no one there — no one at all, but—
He knew there had to be. Until just a while ago there hadn't been any signs of anyone there, but now the presence of whatever that voice belonged to had filled the air with such intensity that it stung his skin. Even then—
(This feeling... Where have I met him before...!?)
The voice, too, sounded so familiar, but he couldn't quite recall from where. As he wondered about it, he heard the voice again.
"... He's all alone."
At that moment, Majic realized.
"He's up there!"
He shouted, looking up at the sky. There floated the owner of the voice.
His face was hidden by a mask, his expression not visible, but he was smiling. Majic just knew that he was smiling, he could feel it.
He was floating about a dozen meters above Majic's head. He was standing upright with his arms folded, with good posture. Even taking into account that they were looking up at him from below, the person who'd been speaking — who must've been a man — wasn't very tall. He was of average height, and more on the thin side. Even from a distance, he could see that he was quite lean. His entire body was clad in black clothing, and even his hair was black, as well as the mask that hid his face.
Cleao yelled again.
"Everyone is listening! So why don't you answer us!?"
"... My name is too famous..."
He replied with a grin.
He was staring down at them, his sharp eyes visible through the gaps in the mask. He was young, Majic sensed. If so, he might not be much different from him. However, Majic still couldn't use sorcery that could make his body float in the sky, never mind without making any noise.
The man — no, a boy — was heard muttering some kind of incantation. At the same time, he floated down to the ground.
He stepped a few paces, then with a light thud, he was on the ground. Majic instinctively shouted.
"I release—"
But the boy didn't move. He watched him, his eyes not even blinking through the mask, and spoke in a quiet voice.
"You're failing to compose your sorcery. That won't work."
"the Sword of Light!"
Majic shouted regardless and held out his right hand, but just as he'd said, the spell didn't work. Majic looked at his right arm, which he'd extended into the sky, and was at a loss for words when he realized that he hadn't been able to generate even the slightest breeze. Eventually — albeit a little late — it occurred to him that he should try again until he succeeded, but by then, the other party was already moving...
"I release, the Sword of Light!"
The black-clad boy's voice was low and controlled, and sounded as if he'd adjusted his volume just enough to reach them — and perhaps that was the case. A moment later, a small light appeared at the tip of the boy's right hand, which he thrust out toward them.
The next moment, his entire field of vision was filled with a white light. Unable to prevent it or escape it, the photothermal wave burned his skin.
(We're dead!?)
Majic involuntarily let out a determined scream. Then—!
A light crack rung through the air, then the light disappeared. The glow of the photothermal wave, which had once filled the space so strongly, had disappeared without a trace as well. He, in addition... wasn't actually dead.
"............"
The boy was silently watching him. No, it wasn't Majic he was looking at, but rather, he seemed to be staring past him, to something behind Majic. When he turned around, he saw Cleao dressed in her nightgown with a serious look on her face, still carrying the baby Deep Dragon in her arms.
"... You should thank Leki."
She said in a cold tone. Majic nodded, honestly grateful.
(I see... Leki saved me.)
Majic realized, conscious of the fact that his back was dripping with sweat. Leki himself was flopped over, resting his head on Cleao's arm without any concern.
Even though Leki was only a baby, the sorcery used by humans could never compare to the sorcery used by Deep Dragons. Majic felt a sense of relief in his chest at that.
He heard the boy mutter something and turn around again.
This time, he spoke slowly.
"I see... So it's true that there are people who've taken a Deep Dragon out of the Forest. Well, not that I thought Asraliel was lying, but she is prone to drunken ravings..."
The boy's voice was neither irritated nor impatient.
Just as the word 'Asraliel' popped up in the boy's speech, he saw Leki's head snap to the side. He blinked, as if reacting to the name.
This caught Majic's attention.
"Asraliel... You mean the Deep Dragon? She let us go..."
"That's right, boy."
The boy dared to call him that, even though he wasn't much older than Majic.
"But if that's the case, I'm sure she'd hate me if I killed him... After all, it seems that the Deep Dragon's resurrection sorcery only works immediately after death, and apparently won't work if the body is badly damaged, either... By the way—"
He squinted from behind his mask, though not at anyone in particular.
"I was afraid that you'd really died."
"Don't kid yourself, you little shit."
The voice once more came from above them.
"Orphen!"
Cleao cheered. Majic, following her lead, looked up at the sky. There, floating in the air, was Orphen, looking just like the boy from earlier had. He was silent, if not a little unsteady, but his body was covered with minor burns, abrasions, and other various injuries.
Orphen suddenly dropped down to the ground, as if an invisible thread had been cut. He landed from a height of several meters without any issue. Orphen was standing between Majic and the boy, glaring at him.
"You're all right, Master!"
Majic called out to him, and without looking back, Orphen answered.
"I thought I was going to die, but... I hadn't expect a kid like this to be the one casting such a spell?"
"That's right... a kid like me."
The boy mumbled amusingly. He couldn't see his expression from his position, but he saw Orphen's shoulders shrug quizzically.
At that moment, the boy moved. The eyes behind his mask seemed to glimmer.
"I dance, among the towers of heaven!"
The spell was surprisingly abrupt, but the result was even more so. Fwoosh... The boy's figure disappeared from their field of vision, and the next moment, he'd moved to just in front of Orphen.
"Spacial transition — Impossible!"
Orphen screamed. The boy was nonchalant about his answer.
"It's fine to take things seriously, but getting upset only gives me an opening."
As he said that, he pointed his finger at Orphen's forehead from point blank range, aiming precisely and accurately.
"Damn—!"
Orphen groaned and jumped back. Majic saw the glimmer disappear from the masked man's eyes. It wasn't that he'd closed his eyes — somehow Majic realized — but that they'd changed from "looking" to "aiming," so to speak.
"I repel, the hail of glass—"
Snap — something echoed in the air.
At that moment, not only Orphen, but also Majic was flung through the air.
"Wha—!?"
"Bwwwaaaaaahh!"
They each let out a respective cry as they were blown several meters away and sent rolling across the ground. He managed to get back up, looking away from Majic to Cleao, who was looking back at him.
"............"
The masked boy stared blankly at his hand and muttered.
"As expected, my sorcery doesn't work on dragons..."
Apparently, he'd intended to throw Cleao back like the others, but Leki had blocked the effects of his spell.
"Damn..."
He cursed when he realized.
Then, Cleao ran past Majic and rushed up to Orphen, looking into his face.
"Are you all right, Orphen? Should I ask Leki to heal your wounds?"
"No... It's just a scratch. Don't let him distract you, not even for a second."
Orphen said quietly, and gestured towards the masked boy with his chin. Majic looked back at him as well, and asked.
"What do you mean?"
Orphen's reply was simple.
"Right now the most powerful person among us is this black furball."
Orphen said as he patted Leki's head. Leki followed suit, raising his nose to the air.
"... Right."
"The second is him."
Saying that, Orphen lowered his stance, preparing for any further attack. Cleao raised her voice.
"What are you talking about, Orphen!?"
"Something wrong? Right, you must not understand it, but Majic, you must know what I'm talking about. I don't know why, but that kid's sorcery is better than mine... by several leagues."
Generally speaking, as long as you were someone who could handle anything even remotely close to sorcery, you could see the composition of that magical power as it was released into space when other sorcerers were casting spells — you could even guess the power of the opponent to some extent based on the accuracy of that composition.
However, from Majic's point of view, the composition of both the sorcery used by Orphen and the sorcery used by the masked boy, who now stood watching them, was to such a different dimension from his own that it was impossible to tell which one was better.
(Well... If he says so, it must be true...)
Majic thought as he compared his Master to the boy. But—
"That isn't necessarily the right way to say it..."
The boy mumbled in a relaxed tone.
"You, are weaker than I am. If you mix that up, it'd be a little awkward."
"......?"
Not understanding what he meant, Majic furrowed his brow. When he looked over, Orphen had a similar look on his face.
Eventually, Orphen stood up straight. He was in a great deal of pain, probably from the bruises and burns — and was breathing heavily while holding his side.
"Spacial transitioning sorcery... How do you know that?"
Orphen asked slowly. The boy didn't answer. His opaque eyes and mask hid his expression, and he continued to watch them, remaining silent.
Orphen shouted, his voice showing that he was losing his temper.
"It's a very special composition — a special composition developed by my Master! It's not taught to ordinary sorcerers, not even the Thirteen Apostles can use it!"
"... Yes, that's right. This is the deepest secret of the Tower of Fang, which even the court sorcerers haven't been allowed to know. It's a very dangerous technique. However..."
The boy shrugged his shoulders lightly.
"I can use it. Better than you, in fact. No... I made a mistake. It's just that you're not as good as me."
"I don't understand..."
"Right. It's just a boring obsession anyway. I've got more important things to take care of."
The boy quickly pointed at them, from Majic... to Cleao.
"It just occurred to me. I was only going to warn you this morning, as I was ordered to do, but, incidentally, there's one more thing that's important to you."
"Warn... So you did this!"
Orphen took a step forward, almost beside himself with anger — Majic didn't understand what they were talking about. He had no idea why Orphen was angry, and he couldn't help but wonder about what the boy said next.
"Oh, that's right."
The boy nodded his head in satisfaction.
"You're going to have to be alone, like me, so I'm going to have to stab the two of them."
That word, 'Stab' — Majic didn't understand the true meaning of it. However, judging from the look on Orphen's face the moment he'd heard it, it seemed that the word didn't have a very good meaning.
"Why would... you..."
Orphen listened as he groaned, sweat dripping down his forehead — He crouched down, a posture Majic had seen many times before.
(Master... He's going to fight seriously...)
Majic, somewhat freaked out, stepped back a bit. He accidentally stepped on Cleao's toe, who swatted him from behind.
While that was going on, the boy answered Orphen.
"Because that is her command. She wants you to return to the way that you were. In any case, you can't go against her words, so you better obey."
The young boy spoke clearly. Orphen didn't answer, but remained still and confrontational. No, maybe the pause was changing, little by little, but Majic couldn't tell. Unable to bear the tension between the two, Majic turned and asked Cleao.
"Hey, what does he mean when he says 'Stab'?"
Cleao answered immediately, her voice sounding stiffer than ever.
"To stab someone from behind... He means assassinate."
Majic choked.
"Master!"
He wailed. Orphen, apparently having heard the exchange — quickly shouted.
"Stay with Leki! Hold on to Cleao!"
Then, he ran at the boy — with incredible speed, Orphen jumped right for the stabber (which he could call a stabber because he'd already declared himself as one.) The stabber's movements were even finer, however, as Orphen threw a checkmate thrust right at the middle of his opponent's torso, using only slight motions. Even so, the stabber easily dodged Orphen's fist with what looked like only a small movement of the shoulder, and then gently shoved the dodging shoulder into Orphen's chest.
That was all he could see.
Just as he thought that, Orphen found himself lying sprawled out on the ground. He'd fallen like he'd been hit by a super-gravity spell, and he could see Orphen coughing up blood. He rolled on the ground, retreating from the stabber's feet.
The stabber spoke to Orphen.
"I'm surprised. I didn't think there was that big of a difference in our power. It's going to be hard to rehabilitate you."
"Damn...!"
Orphen stood up, a few steps away from the stabber. Then, behind Majic, Cleao raised her voice.
"Leki! Do whatever you have to do, just kill him!"
It was a terribly vague order, but Leki seemed to have interpreted it as the typical 'Do it!' order for now—
Boom!
The stabber's body as spontaneously engulfed in a pillar of bright-white fire. For just half a second, the stabber disappeared in the five-to-six meter tall flames.
However.
A clear voice came from within the white fire as it stretched skyward, as if lost to the flames.
"You fool. Don't you think I've been waiting for this? Even if he's of the dragon race—"
An arm peeked out from the flames — aiming directly at them.
"He can't cast two things at once. In this case, both an attack and a defensive spell."
"Stooooop!"
It wasn't Majic or Cleao who'd screamed, but Orphen.
But, the stabber didn't stop.
"I release—"
He could hear Cleao screaming.
"Leki! Block it—"
But Majic's order seemed to come too late. He tried to weave his own defensive spell, but he couldn't do anything on such short notice.
(This is it—)
Majic let out a sob of despair in his heart. He looked at Orphen's back, as he reached out, unable to move toward the stabber in the pillar of fire.
(We, we really are slowing him down!)
The magical composition that he'd been trying to weave slipped through his fingers.
The spell that burst forth did nothing. It couldn't even protect him.
(Master—)
A meaningless scream. Majic closed his eyes as tight as he could.
Then, the stabber's 'Stab' was completed.
"The Sword of Light!"
Pow—!
With his eyes closed, he couldn't see the light. However, when he felt the heat of the flames on his skin, Majic knew that the stabber had released his spell anyway. It was aimed right at him — the sorcery that would Stab him.
............
(............?)
Again, he slowly opened his eyes.
Unbeknownst to him, Majic found himself on his knees on the ground. His legs trembled, and Majic lifted his face, thinking that the fear must've made him go numb.
The white pillar of fire that Leki had created was already gone. Perhaps he'd erased it to concentrate on defense. Directly in front of him, Orphen, in the same outfit as before — that is, the one similar to what Majic was currently wearing — was lying on the ground. He didn't know what shape Cleao was in, but he could hear light sobs from behind him.
Right next to him, the ground was scorched in a straight line, as if it'd been gouged away by a heat ray. The photothermal wave emitted by the stabber had passed by only a meter away.
The spell was gone.
"That's right. As I said—"
The stabber's voice rang out, as if he could read his thoughts—
"You can't attack and defend at the same time."
"............!?"
The stabber's mask was burnt away, probably due to Leki's earlier sorcery. Their true face was revealed, a black-haired boy with a slightly pouty look on his face. His eyes seemed cold, but his simple honesty stood out more than that. All of his clothes were burnt off, and he stood there completely naked. Seeing that, he heard Cleao yell "Ew!" His body itself — his hair, even his body hair — was completely undamaged. In other words, he'd protected himself from Leki's spell, but...
(But still, missing the target of his spell...)
Majic looked at the stabber in disbelief. It was hard to believe even a half-grown sorcerer, never mind a sorcerer who could overpower his Master, would miss the target of his concentration.
Then he saw that the stabber had a knife stuck in his right shoulder. That must've distracted the stabber from his aim, but...
(Then... who?)
Majic wondered and looked around, but the stabber was the first to spot them. He was looking behind Majic and the others, a quiet look in his eyes.
"I didn't think you'd chase me this far."
He mumbled in an accusatory tone.
The reply came from behind Majic and the others, from the direction of where the stabber was speaking.
"... I'm not after you. I'm here for him."
He glanced back — and Cleao was also looking back in surprise. In front of his eyes was a tall, quiet woman.
She had long black hair — Majic knew that Cleao often envied such hair — shiny, dark, straight hair that danced in the wind. She was about twenty-four or twenty-five years old. Even though it was almost summer she was dressed in a long-sleeved, plain black shirt and pale, almost white beige slacks, with red socks peeking out. Her somewhat sleepy — but sharp — eyes were fixed on the stabber.
"I'm not sure it'd be a good idea to fight two members of the Childman class..."
The stabber mumbled something along those lines.
(Childman class?)
Majic didn't understand what he meant, but the term certainly seemed familiar to the woman. She walked slowly, not showing any particular reaction. She'd come so close that when he looked up, the tip of his nose almost touched her knee — She put her hand on Majic's head with a gentle pat. It wasn't a particularly meaningful gesture.
Then she spoke to him.
"Get out of here. I'll be taking Krylancelo under my custody."
As she spoke, she patted him on the head. Majic glanced up and looked at the thin gold wristwatch on her right wrist. Not that it really mattered.
And—
(Ah!)
Majic shouted in his mind. He saw her quickly place her hand under the collar of her shirt, and then, in one fluid motion, she pulled out a silver chain. Attached to the end of that chain was a pendant, and that pendant was—
(A dragon crest — This is the mark of a sorcerer from the Tower of Fang!)
At the end of the chain was the crest of a one-legged dragon entwined with a sword. It was exactly the same as the one that Orphen always wore. She continued, placing the pendant back against her chest.
"I am Leticia McCready of the Tower of Fang's Childman Class. This is the first time we've properly met face to face."
"I don't know how 'proper' you can call it when you greet someone with a knife."
The stabber pulled the knife from the bloodied wound and quickly chanted something — the wound effortlessly vanished without a trace.
"You must've known me quite well. A long time ago."
As he spoke, he stroked his bare chest. Then, without waiting for a reply, he turned around.
"Don't come after me."
He muttered quietly. As he turned his back and left, he continued.
"If you do follow... I'll kill you, and you know that."
Cleao, who struck a pose like she was going to attack with Leki again was gently held back by the woman — Leticia, or whatever she'd called herself. She spoke in a gentle voice.
"Take a look at Krylancelo. That should come first."
"... Krylancelo?"
Cleao asked, confused. Leticia looked at her for a moment, then, as if she'd just thought of something, she answered.
"Orphen — I mean, Orphen."
"!"
Cleao also seemed to remember. He'd been so quiet for the past while that even Majic thought he'd left.
"Master!"
He called out, running alongside Cleao to Orphen — he was still on the ground, motionless. Majic went to his Master, wondering if he was unconscious.
"Are you okay?"
He didn't look very well, to be honest.
Orphen stared aghast into the void with his mouth gaping open. With both hands on the ground he stared at a single point, seeing nothing. His eyes — and his entire body, Majic noticed — were trembling slightly.
"... Are you cold, Master?"
Cleao peeked out from the side, mumbling something that he didn't catch. Leki poked around Orphen's temple with the tip of his nose.
And — not in response to any of this — a small moan echoed from the back of Orphen's throat.
"...Im...possible..."
"Huh?"
Orphen groaned, not in response to Majic's voice, but simply repeating himself.
"Impossible... It must be a lie. His face — it's—"
"... Yes. It's your face, Krylancelo."
Leticia answered, coming up behind Orphen before he even realized. His body trembled at her words — and he glanced up at her face.
(This is the first time... I've seen Master so scared...)
Majic thought, half-shocked. With a quiet, blank expression, he heard Leticia continue.
"Welcome back, Krylancelo. You have the worst possible timing, but welcome."
Then he turned his gaze again to the departing stabber, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Table of Contents
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| (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) |
The Usual Victim The Sudden Assassin The Melancholy Homecomer The Persistent Visitor The Night Walker The Seeker Confronted The Successor of Steel |