"Wolves, Gather In My Forest" V4 Chapter 4 - Fiena's Request
Night soon fell. In the dark, the stairs of the tower were terribly difficult to climb — That's shoddy craftsmanship for you, though, he mused to himself. But what could he hope for? It was a remote, unexplored, and secluded village in the middle of nowhere. There was only one decent architect that MacDougall had brought from Alenhatam who'd designed all of the village's facilities. The cult's tower and the workshop next to it were designed by that same man.
Still, it was a difficult staircase to climb. The slope was as steep as a ladder with planks on it. Apparently, the designer couldn't conceive of a spiral staircase.
(Well, I mean, it's different from my hometown.)
In the darkness, Salua smacked his shin against the edge of the staircase and grimaced. His bearded chin contorted into a sarcastic smile. The sword at his waist made a clattering sound.
(Of course, since I left my hometown... there's always interesting things to do.)
At the top of the stairs, there was only one room in the tower. It was the priestess's room — Off-limits to anyone but MacDougall. He always carried the key to the room on his person, and Fiena wasn't supposed to unlock the door from the inside unless she heard MacDougall's voice.
But Salua knocked carelessly on the door. In a hushed voice, he spoke.
"It's me — Salua."
A few moments later, the door opened. It was Fiena who'd opened it, wearing a gown over her sleepwear. She mumbled.
"At this hour... is something wrong?"
"I'm sorry, but I didn't come here today to chat with you — and as proof of that, I don't have any liquor on me. So you're still awake at this late hour? I thought I'd have to pick the lock, but you were probably having a good time with that boy—"
Salua looking into the room as he talked, then suddenly stammered. He asked, glancing around.
"Where's that kid?"
"Majic... went to the dungeon. MacDougall hates sorcerers, and said it's not safe to leave him alone."
"Hmm... Well, that's a fair call. MacDougall should do something about his taste for torture... In the dungeon, you said?"
Salua quickly turned around and started to leave the room. Fiena shouted behind him.
"Um—"
"... Hmm?"
Salua looked over his shoulder. Fiena's eyebrow twitched, and then she continued in a frightened voice.
"There's a reason I've been up this late. I couldn't sleep..."
"... You mean because of the plan?"
Salua mentioned it casually, and Fiena looked up, seeming startled.
"! How did you... know about that? MacDougall hasn't—"
"Don't say anything. I took the liberty of checking it out myself. The day after tomorrow, MacDougall and his cronies will leave the village — including you. Only women, children, and non-combatants will remain in the village. You don't see many opportunities like this. I plan to use it."
"You..."
Who are you? She wanted to ask, but Fiena seemed unable to continue.
And I have no obligation to answer — Salua conveyed with a wry smile.
"Because MacDougall's plan isn't going to work anyway, and you know that, don't you?"
"... Yes."
"Then I guess this is the last time you and I will be having a conversation... because the day after tomorrow, MacDougall and the rest of you will all be dead."
"...... Yes."
After a long pause, the girl nodded. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but her skin had turned pale — frightened, or perhaps resigned. Salua clicked his tongue.
"Damn — That's another 'yes' from you. You've been saying 'yes' since you wandered into this village six months ago. I couldn't stand to watch him take advantage of you, so I thought that if I just talked to him, it'd make things a little better, but it didn't. On that day, I'm going to go with the guards at first, and then slip away. It'd be easy enough for me to take you with me. Can't you at least ask for help when you don't want to die?"
"... I don't want to die, I don't want to... I'm scared..."
Salua didn't mean to get angry, but his frustrated tone seemed to have frightened Fiena — she shuddered, closed her eyes, and began to choke on her sobs.
"It feels like I'm picking on you... Damn it, fine, I'll just tell you everything. You know, if you want me to protect you from danger, I'll protect you from as much as you want. I'm willing to do that much for free. If you want to be happy, there are some prices you'll have to pay — In other words, make up, flirt, whatever, there are plenty of gullible men out there. But if you don't stop crying all by yourself, nothing's ever going to change in your life."
After saying all that, he sighed again. He hated to preach.
(Damn it — I hate this kind of bullshit, it's the whole reason I've been taking all of these assignments out in remote villages. I should never have gotten a preaching license.)
But since he had it, he couldn't seem to shut up.
Salua shrugged his shoulder and turned his back on her completely. Fiena was still shuffling, whether she'd heard him or not.
"Well then, I'll help you, just so you don't cry when the day comes."
He said with his back turned, placing his foot on the stairs, which were just as difficult to descend as before.
He went down the stairs — and heard a voice speak up—
| Not yet? |
The voice seemed to come from above his head, and he turned upstairs. Fiena turned to her room, which should've been empty, and answered. She'd stopped crying, her face that of a priestess.
"That's correct..."
(............?)
Salua was alone in the dark, a strange look on his face. He thought he'd heard that voice from inside Fiena's room, but—
(Was that — just my imagination? No—)
Deciding not to think about it any further, he walked down the stairs at a fast pace.
"Eeeeeiiiiiyaaahhh!"
Salua stopped the second he heard the scream. It was near the entrance of the stairs leading into the basement of the cult tower.
For a moment, Salua wondered if the sorcerer's torture had started, but if it was true torture, normally, he wouldn't be able to express such powerful anguish. Those weakened by torture hardly made any sound.
"AAAAAaaaaaaa!"
Another scream. The guards who were usually at the dungeon were gone tonight — all of the priest's cronies were probably at MacDougall's to discuss the plan. He'd been waiting for this opportunity — so Salua himself said he was going to be in bed with an upset stomach.
"Now..."
Click, his finger touched the hilt of his sword.
Salua began to descend the stairs.
The basement of the tower was bare soil, but the parts that were more likely to be touched by passing hands were treated with chemicals. As such, the stairs always had a strange smell to them. Trying not to breath too much, he slowly walked down the steps. Eventually, the short staircase came to an end.
As soon as he descended the stairs, the iron bars were there before him. Salua's jaw dropped as he faced the prison.
"NOOOOoooooooo!"
Another sob. Then, a quick shudder! — And an iron bar pierced the earthen wall. It was apparently made by tearing off a piece of the cell walls and sharpening the tip. It flew through the air at tremendous speed, then was thrust into the wall... no more than a few inches from the head of the dwarf.
"Ahh! My ear! You got me in the ear, you son of a bitch!"
Vulcan cried. He was pinned to the mud wall with an iron bar bent into a scalloped shape, apparently also made from the broken iron lattice. His brother, Dortin, was lying at his feet, seemingly unconscious. From the expression on his face, it seemed that he'd fainted in fear.
And the black-magic sorcerer was lying against the wall opposite the dwarves, looking like he was suffering from a headache — He spoke up in a carefree tone.
"Ohh, look at that, seems my aim is getting sharper and sharper."
"S-Sharper!? You don't really intend to hit me, do you!?"
Vulcan screamed, his face turning pale.
(What the hell are these guys doing?)
Salua scratched his head as he wondered — Come to think of it, this black-magic sorcerer was caught based on information they'd gotten from the dwarves, right? Then he could understand how they might know each other.
On top of that — that black-magic sorcerer, the one lying on the ground, gave an absentminded laugh.
"Don't be silly, Vulcan. You're so serious—"
He changed direction without changing his tone even a little.
"Of course I'm going to hit you."
"Whhhaaa!?"
"Come back."
That murmur must've been a spell — the iron bar that'd just been stuck in the wall suddenly came back out without anyone even touching it. The rod moved straight through the air and returned to its position above the black-magic sorcerer.
It seemed that the intention (?) was to use sorcery to send the bar flying with the aim of hitting the dwarves, but since the sorcerer was lying on the ground, it was almost impossible to aim properly. Of course, that also included the possibility of making a mistake that would land a hit.
"Umm... Master?"
Suddenly, there was another voice. He'd been too distracted by the screams of the dwarves to notice, but there, in the corner of the cell, sat the sorcerer's apprentice — Majic, was it? The boy was dripping with a cold sweat and smiling nervously.
Majic continued.
"If you need to recover your health as soon as possible, wasting your strength like this might be..."
"T-that's right! You've got a good point, boy! Sorcerer, rest! Please..."
"Majic..."
The black-magic sorcerer's voice was so calm that the prison fell silent — even Vulcan's fussing hushed with a sudden gulp. The black-magic sorcerer closed his eyes and continued with a sigh.
"I'm getting closer to hitting them."
"............"
For a moment, Majic just looked up into the void. Then he spoke up again.
"Then, please just hit them and be done with it."
"Hey, hey, hey, heeeeyy!"
Vulcan shouted.
"You said you were just going to punish us! That you didn't intend to hit me, but you hit me anyway!"
The black-magic sorcerer stared at Vulcan, who was soaked by his own sobbing tears, and watched him for a while before mumbling.
"... I'm sure it's easier for arrows to sink in if you're soaked with tears. Let's find out, shall we?"
"That's a pretty specific observation, Master."
"You people have no mercy!"
Vulcan yelled, his tears stopping. The black-magic sorcerer only raised his head and shouted back.
"What's this about mercy, you lucky tanuki!? Because of your screw up I'm stuck here, hung over, in this damn dungeon! You haven't even paid me back, so don't think that pulling all this bullshit is going to make me feel better!"
"What are you talking about, loan shark!? You're like a cockroach, always healing yourself up whether you get hurt or not, yet you're holding onto this like it's some huge inconvenience! I'll dye your hair with nail polish so you die from the fumes!"
"Shut up, you little tanuki!"
"I'll spring out of this jack-in-the-box and kill you!"
While listening to the utterly pointless swearing that ensued, Salua decided that he had a general idea of the situation, at least for the moment. But still... he'd hoped they'd notice him by now.
"What are you guys... doing?"
He spoke in a hushed voice. Vulcan looked up at him in surprise, having noticed him for the first time. He burst into tears and started yelling.
"Oooohh! Bro! Help me! This isn't my fault — I never slipped up and sold out the loan shark to some crazy priest. I even came to visit him to see how he were doing, and I certainly wasn't checking to see if he could still move or not, so that if he couldn't, I could finish him off — Rather, I was just worried about him, and came to visit him out of concern, but this guy just tried to kill me for his own amusement—"
On the other hand, the black-magic sorcerer spoke up in a matter-of-fact tone.
"... Actually, he's right."
"You can't just kill me for the hell of it!"
"Sure he could..."
It wasn't the two quarreling, but the boy, Majic, who stared at him and quietly spoke up. Of course, even though he was a child, he knew that he could use sorcery, so he couldn't let his guard down.
The jail was open — it must've been unlocked by sorcery to let the dwarves into the prison.
(That's a useful ability.)
Sometimes, I envy you guys — though my brother back home would faint if he ever heard me say that.
Salua slipped through the open prison door.
"I'm Salua — You're Majic, I think... right?"
And then he turned to the black-magic sorcerer who was lying on the ground. He looked much weaker than when MacDougall had taken him to see him during the day, but... he'd been caught in the gaze of a dragon, so that was only natural.
The black-magic sorcerer spoke in a soft voice.
"I'm Orphen."
Salua responded to that name with a grin, then crouched down next to the black-magic sorcerer, Orphen. He reached out his hand and flipped over the pendant on the sorcerer's chest."
"The sword and crest of a one-legged dragon — it's from the Tower of Fang. I see, sure enough, it has Orphen carved into it."
He could see a twitch in Orphen's face — Of course, the owner would know that the name carved into the back of the crest was Krylancelo.
Salua shrugged and released the pendant. Anyway, it wasn't like he was trying to be sarcastic by misrepresenting the name — he figured there was a good reason to use one. If so, he could use these circumstances to indebt the sorcerer to him, and — either which way, he'd have to be careful about what he said. Especially with that name, Krylancelo of the Tower of Fang.
(The Childman Classroom's "Successor of Razor Edge" Krylancelo...)
Krylancelo, the seventh student of the Childman Class, was considered to be Childman's — the greatest black-magic sorcerer throughout all of history — successor, He should've at least be one of the most powerful black-magic sorcerers on the continent. He'd heard that he disappeared from the Tower five years ago, but he never expected him to be lying on the ground in a place like this.
If only he knew—
"Hmm..."
Salua mumbled and pulled out a small, protruding knife from one of the pockets in his ranger jacket. The blade snapped out and danced in Salua's hand. "Guh!" Majic gasped.
"What are you doing!?"
Then, with surprising quickness, the boy jumped up at him.
(Amateur!)
Salua thought. He carelessly backhanded the sorcerer's apprentice and sent him flying into the wall. He hit his head so hard on the muddy surface that he stopped moving, watching him with a resentful glare. Vulcan cheered—
"You're going to save me, aren't you, bro!?"
Salua flashed his knife, and brought it down on at Orphen's throat as he laid there on the floor. If he was truly incapacitated, the legend of Krylancelo would end here. Salua thought that'd be a good thing, just as he felt a response from the knife.
The blade stabbed into the ground. Orphen was no longer there.
He looked up with a smile on his face — with Orphen standing right beside him. His face was pale, but his eyes were sharp, as if they could cut right through him.
"You can't move, huh...? I guess that was just a joke."
Salua murmured, to which Orphen replied bluntly.
"You idiot. I was telling the truth — but I still decided to take the day off."
"Tough one, aren't you..."
Salua grinned and pulled the knife from the ground. With one movement, or rather half a movement, he threw the knife at Orphen. The black-magic sorcerer easily avoided it, and the knife stuck right into Vulcan's head behind him.
"AAAaaahhh!"
— That was the signal to start.
Salua, not wanting to let his opponent use sorcery, pulled back his right hand and aimed it right at Orphen's face. Of course, this was just a bluff, and his true next move wasn't the left body blow that followed it — but the left foot sweep that'd strike from his blind spot.
Either way, Orphen seemed to have noticed — he ignored the punch and let it graze his temple and blocked the body blow with his elbow. When the foot-sweep came, Salua slammed it right into the vital point of his ankle. If it hadn't been for the wire frame in his boots, he might've fainted right then and there.
(So it is him after all — Krylancelo! He's the real deal!)
Salua cheered in his head — a feeling a pleasure coursed through his body, making his skin tingle in excitement.
Whether it was a feint or not, his outstretched hand grazing Orphen's face was a good opportunity. It made him reflexively close his left eye. From that blind spot, Salua ducked his hand and suddenly latched it over the left side of Orphen's face. Then, having made sure that he couldn't pull back, he unleashed a punch from his left, right into Orphen's face.
Before his hand could reach, Orphen pushed him away without so much as flinching — he'd relied on one strong blow, while Salua had used a number of swift attacks. In theory, it was a simple tactic, but there weren't many people on the continent who had the skill and self-control to ignore that many attacks and initiate that plan.
However—
"Heheh!"
Salua jumped up quickly. His lower stomach still felt numb from the blow, but he didn't care at all. I won't win in hand-to-hand combat, he instinctively knew, and put his hand on the hilt of the long sword at his waist.
(If he's the continent's expert in combat, then I'm the continent's emperor in this!)
If he pulled out his sword, his true identity would be revealed, but he didn't care—
He was about to draw the sword when...
Suddenly, Salua felt a pressure on the tip of his nose, and stopped. Orphen was right in front of him, raising his right hand — with it pointed right at him.
The black-magic sorcerer warned him in a quiet tone.
"This is all just fun and games until you draw your sword."
He was trying to initiate a spell.
"Don't be so rude..."
Salua said, taking his hand off the sword. Orphen, too, quickly lowered his hand.
"Who's being rude? You're the one who tried to pull out a sword."
"That's true, but... I'm at too much of a disadvantage in hand-to-hand combat..."
Muttering, Salua looked around the prison — Vulcan was covered in a bloody stupor from the knife in his forehead, and Dortin hadn't woken up, though he was groaning. Majic, too, seemed to have lost consciousness due to the concussion at some point.
"... Looks like everyone has gone to sleep, just as they should."
"You're the one who put most of them to sleep, you know—"
Orphen mumbled. At the same time, the sorcerer lowered his right arm. Salua jumped backwards. The smile faded from his face, and he looked at the sorcerer with a quiet, cold, serpentine gaze.
Even at his most serious, what came out of his mouth was the voice of an easy-going person, not so different from the one he'd spoken in before.
"Do you know what a Teacher of Death is?"
Hearing this, Orphen's eyes narrowed as if mimicking Salua's change.
He mumbled.
"The Kimrak Church has its own team of assassins directly under its control, which they use to wipe out those who disagree with the church. They're called the Teachers of Death."
"Salua Solude, the Teacher of Death. Of course, my brother might kill me if he knew I was using the Solude name as an assassin."
Salua quickly drew his sword. The sound of the metal sliding from the scabbard left a faint sound in the air. Only, there was no blade exposed in the darkness.
"The glass sword of the Teachers of Death..."
Orphen murmured. The sword Salua was carrying had no blade at the end of the hilt — actually, it wasn't that it didn't have one, but that you couldn't see it. The sword was made of a special hardened glass that barely reflected light. If he were standing still, the outline of the blade would be visible, but if it were being swung at high speed, it'd be extremely difficult to catch sight of it with the naked eye. If you only swung the sword in a wide swing, or if you mixed your slashes in with a few smaller moves, it'd be difficult to avoid losing sight of it. It was the symbolic sword of a Kimrak Church assassin—
Salua took on a more teasing tone.
"But if I'm going to go toe-to-toe with the Successor of Razor Edge — the Successor of Steel, Krylancelo, I'm going to need some flashy weapons..."
"............"
Orphen sat there quietly. He raised his left arm up — if push came to shove, he'd risk sacrificing his left arm to unleash his sorcery. If that missed, he'd sacrifice his right arm next.
The black-magic sorcerer could heal his wounds over and over again as long as it didn't reach the nerves. On the other hand, he couldn't heal any fatal wounds. This was the decisive difference between black magic and the sorcery used by creatures like the Deep Dragons.
Salua moved half a step to the right, holding his sword at an angle.
Orphen looked at him, his eyes wary.
"Why is... a Kimrak Teacher of Death here?"
"Well let me ask you, why is Krylancelo of the Tower of Fang in the same place?"
Salua asked with a grin — if the sorcerer showed even the slightest glimmer of intent in his response to the question, he'd have to kill him. It would probably be possible.
As far as he'd heard — the black-magic sorcerer named Krylancelo wasn't an assassin, refusing to kill. If that were true, then no matter how good his sorcery was... he had nothing to fear.
Silence — everything was still — the two of them watching each other patiently. The black eyes of the wary, tense black-magic sorcerer suddenly shifted.
Then, as if distracted, a look of dismay appeared on his face.
"Man... Are you really going to kill me over a misunderstanding!?"
"... Huh?"
The tip of Salua's sword tilted slightly. Then—
"What are you doing!"
A childish yell came from behind him. Then, with a dull thud, a shock ran through the back of Salua's head, and he collapsed to the floor.
Ah...
A groan escaped his throat. Orphen put his hand on his forehead and looked down at the assassin who'd fallen face first at his feet. While he stood there, watching Salua, who was passed out and bleeding profusely, someone screamed, but it wasn't him—
"Kyaaaahh!"
The high-pitched sob echoed as the sword fell to the floor with a thud. Seeing the tiny speck of blood on the blade, the sword's owner — a petite girl with blonde hair down to her waist — screamed again.
"Oh no, he's bleeding!"
Orphen groaned, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Because —of — you~!"
He jabbed his finger out towards her.
"Where did you even come from!?"
"Where did... I come from...? I snuck in through the entrance up there."
Cleao pointed to the stairs behind her.
"You... snuck in..."
He apparently hadn't noticed her walking in while he'd been fighting Salua.
"What? You asked me to get rangers, Orphen, so I did, and I've been waiting on the outskirts of the village. Anyway, I infiltrated this place alone so that I could help you."
"Normally, you're supposed to stay on stand by and let the rangers infiltrate. I didn't tell you to bring rangers, though. I told you to wait at the ranger station."
"What?"
Cleao pouted.
"Well... I didn't expect you to listen to me anyway."
Orphen looked around the dungeon. Now it was even more cramped, with six people there. Vulcan was stuck to the wall and Dortin was laying at his feet. Majic had banged his head against the wall and was now sitting there with his eyes rolled back while Salua was passed out, his head still bleeding. Cleao clutched her chest, looking like a guilty student just busted by the teacher for being late. He gazed at the family crest embroidered on her blade-resistant jacket and let out a deep sigh.
"Damn it... I didn't expect you to come back so soon...
Hearing that, Cleao's eyebrows twitched.
"A—Ahh! I knew you were trying to exclude me!"
"Well no duh! When has your involvement ever made things better!?"
"Uhh..."
Cleao swallowed her words after being flatly retorted. Orphen continued.
"Even now, popping up and attacking someone from behind? He could've died instantly if you hit him the wrong way!"
He pointed at Salua, who was lying on his face, indicating the back of his head. Cleao gave him an apologetic look.
"I—I did that because... when I came down to this shady dungeon and everyone was just lying there looking like they were dead... and Orphen, you had a sword pointed at you... And uhh, anyway, I thought you were in a pinch, so I..."
"............"
Orphen looked around at the prison again. Vulcan, for example, had a knife stuck in his head — and well, sure, in this case, her reaction might be more normal.
(But... taking someone down based on that 'anyway'? A Teacher of Death no less...)
"Whatever, this guy needs some healing."
Orphen turned his gaze away from Cleao and crouched over Salua. He reached for the wound on the back of his head. It was a surprise attack, but it wasn't a strong one. The blood loss was considerable, but not fatal, like it would've been if his skull had been caved in.
"I heal—"
He started to chant, but suddenly, he stopped moving.
"............"
Orphen dropped the spell and looked up. Cleao, too, noticed his gaze and turned around with a puzzled look on her face. Behind her — on the stairs — stood a figure. They came down the stairs without making a sound, illuminated by the flickering light of the torch. It was a girl in a light silk shrine maiden's robe.
"Fiena..."
Orphen murmured. Even though this place was underground, it wouldn't be so strange if she, who was on the top floor of the same tower, noticed the noise and came down to investigate.
"Who's she?"
Cleao asked. Orphen answered in a whisper.
"The shrine maiden. Of this village..."
"Ooohh..."
Cleao looked at Fiena with a curious voice.
"Cute clothes ♪ Can I touch them?"
Fiena quickly ignored her carefree voice. She slid into the prison, passing by Cleao. She reached for Salua's wound, pushing Orphen's hand away.
There was no spell — just a single stroke from her hand, and in a flash, the assassin's wounds disappeared.
Fiena remained where she was and looked over at Majic. Majic was breathing, but still out cold, as if he was simply asleep. She looked around the prison again, and after a moment's hesitation, healed Vulcan and Dortin's wounds as well. The knife fell from Vulcan's head and made a wet sound as it hit the floor.
As the wounds healed, no one seemed to wake up — perhaps the healing of the wounds made them fall asleep as a side effect. Had she put them to sleep to help them recover from the fatigue, though, or was it because she wanted to tell a story that she didn't want any of them to hear...
The latter, Orphen sensed. As if on cue, Fiena quickly looked at him. She was holding her hand on the back of Salua's head, as if caressing it.
"Umm..."
She almost opened her mouth, and then, as if in quandary, she stopped again. Before she knew it, Cleao was staring at her resentfully, as if holding her finger up in a reproachful manner.
Under the silent pressure, Fiena finally spoke up.
"Oh... Go ahead. You can touch it."
"Eeee ♪"
Cleao cheered and flopped down, touching Fiena's priestess clothes without fear.
Orphen sighed.
"I can't tell which one of you is younger."
"Mhm."
Cleao glanced at him. Orphen picked up the sword that Cleao had dropped with a blank look on his face. He wiped the blood from the blade with a handkerchief — and pressed the sword into Cleao's hand, thinking that he'd throw the handkerchief away later.
"Cleao, I have a favor to—"
"Hang on a second, stop."
Cleao fumed and restrained him with her hand. She sheathed the sword as she did so.
"Let me just say this first — I don't want to hear 'wait for me where it's safe' or 'go ahead'. I don't need a graceful way for you to get rid of me."
"Then make sure that we have a clear route out of the village. Get help from those rangers that you've had waiting on the outskirts of the village."
"That's not good enough either. Orphen, you think I'm a fool. Don't forget — I'm your partner, you know."
"I see. Well then, I'll secure a way for us to get out of here, so don't worry."
Orphen grabbed Fiena by the shoulders and started to leave the prison. Cleao shouted out from behind him.
"Ahh — Then I'll secure a retreat, too."
"... What's the point of both of us securing a way out? You know, if we're supposed to be partners, we have to share a role."
Orphen shook his finger in admonishment. Still not convinced, however, Cleao growled.
"Orphen, do you dislike me by any chance!?"
"It's not that kind of problem, you're just a nuisance."
"Orph—"
Fiena gently leaned forward in front of Cleao, just as she was about to say something with a dark look on her face. When she brought her face close to hers, so close that their noses almost touched, Cleao's head seemed to shake for just a moment.
(She looked into her eyes.)
Orphen noticed. Fiena quickly pulled her face away from Cleao's without any sound, and Cleao's expression changed drastically. Rather, without any expression whatsoever, she opened her mouth to speak.
"Okay... I'll do what you say."
Cleao mumbled and quickly left the prison, walking up the stairs. Orphen listened to the receding sound of her sneakers then asked Fiena.
"Was that your sorcery?"
"Yes... I don't have much time. I'm sorry..."
She said as she looked at him with a frightened stare.
"No, thank you. It saved me a lot of trouble... Nothing to be concerned about, though, it's a quick fix, right? The implications are..."
"Yes. She'll be back to normal by morning."
After she answered, she clenched her fist and continued.
"Umm... I, I have a request."
"I figured as much. What is it?"
As he listened, Orphen looked into Fiena's eyes, and suddenly he noticed it — what Majic called the "shrine maiden's face."
Cleao's empty expression from earlier was quite similar...
Fiena's request was easy.
"Please escape this village by tomorrow morning — and take Majic and Salua with you."
It was that simple. The security was so scarce that even Cleao was able to break in with ease — and with the help of an assassin, a Teacher of Death no less, he'd be able to destroy the village on his way out. Plus, if he had this girl by his side, one who could harness the sorcery of the Deep Dragons, there was nothing he couldn't do...
"No."
And, as if seeing through his thoughts, Fiena shook her head.
"I'm not going... I'll remain here."
Hearing this, Orphen was more than a little shocked. Not necessarily about what she had said, though.
"... Can you... read my mind?"
With a Deep Dragon's dark sorcery, that much should be easy. However, she only shook her head again in response to the question.
"No. This time, I was just guessing."
"But still... stay here? That's up to you, but Majic told me that MacDougall was planning to use you for some weird plan."
"That's true, but..."
Fiena's voice faded away. Orphen rubbed his head, his headache still lingering.
"It looks like you have your reasons... But if dark sorcery is used in excess without cause, the whole continent could be reduced to ruin."
"Yes..."
Fiena gave a small nod and slowly knelt beside Salua. She quickly touched the assassin's shoulder and turned him from a slumped position over onto his back. She brushed the dirt from Salua's brow with her fingertips and spoke up abruptly...
"Do you know who he is?"
"Yeah."
Orphen gave a simple answer.
"If he's one of the Teachers of Death from Kimrak, then he must be one of the best killers on the continent. No, actually, if he's an assassins, he's probably one of the top ten on Kiesalhima. He even has a glass sword on his belt, of which there are only eight on the continent."
Fiena seemed to be looking at the same thing — staring at the sword on the floor, the blade of which she could not see.
"I knew, too. He told me about it. I thought he might be lying, because when he said it, he sounded drunk, like he had just let it slip. It looks like it's true."
She shifted her gaze from the sword to the assassin's face. He watched the look in her eyes — not necessarily because it seemed similar to Cleao's, but because Orphen noticed that the girl looked considerably more mature than her actual age. He then came up with another thought.
(Majic's heart is gonna break)
Fiena asked as she went on.
"Do you even know what his purpose here is?"
"No, but he seemed to have misunderstood, thinking that I came to this village for the same purpose that he did. That's why he attacked me."
"I also... thought the same thing when I heard that a sorcerer was coming around this village. So, under the guise of a walk, I made contact with Majic before MacDougall did. When I saw him, I immediately recognized that he was just a stray..."
"What's this guy up to, then?"
Orphen asked. Fiena looked down at Salua's unconscious face.
"He plans to assassinate MacDougall. MacDougall was a teacher of the Kimrak Church until a few years ago."
"Kimrak... the church headquarters..."
The northern tip of the continent — a huge holy city that controlled the churches all over the continent. It was also the second largest city after the royal capital.
The Kimrak Church had an extreme hatred of human sorcerers. The reason for that wasn't known to Orphen, but either way, there were some of them that didn't even recognize the existence of sorcerers, as they were dedicated to the Wyrd Sisters.
The church headquarters openly admitted that the purpose of having its own assassin squad, the Teachers of Death, was to assassinate major sorcerers. Even so, just because it was an open secret didn't necessarily mean that it shouldn't be concealed.
But in practice more often than not the work involved eliminating heretical teachers who had begun to move against the will of the church headquarters — in fact, few, if any well-known sorcerers had been assassinated by the Teachers of Death. Orphen was easily convinced of this because he'd witnessed his master, Childman, sitting in his study chair, destroy an assassin in a single blow after they'd come to visit him posing as a guest. Sorcerers were generally protected by organizations such as the Damsel's Orisons, and when push came to shove, they'd have weapons that ordinary people couldn't even imagine — in other words, they had sorcery. They weren't easy targets for assassination.
(Although — I'm not so sure about someone like me, wandering around unprotected and alone...)
He sighed in frustration and asked—
"MacDougall was a heretical teacher of Kimrak, then? How did he end up being this village's priest?"
"............"
He saw Fiena's expression stiffen as soon as she heard the question.
"He said that he saw something in Kimrak..."
"What did he see?"
"I don't know!"
She exclaimed in an overpowering tone. Orphen looked so surprised that she blushed, as if she'd just realized something.
"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to shout..."
"No... It's okay, though."
Orphen coughed.
"But if MacDougall was a heretical teacher, then... why would I — I mean, why would a sorcerer come to assassinate him? Why did he think I was an assassin sent for MacDougall?"
"... That's... MacDougall's purpose is to..."
Fiena stammered there. She seemed to dredge up the information for a moment, then looked up and continued.
"You don't know what MacDougall's purpose is, do you? This village used to be a hiding place for the Dragon Worshippers. For generations they've dotted this Forest, and would run away whenever they were spotted by a ranger or dragon. He came to this village three years ago — at that time, he brought his engineer from Kimrak, and built this tower and a workshop, which was used for manufacturing pistols."
"... The method of manufacturing handguns is supposed to be a top secret matter in the royal capital. Only the royal army are allowed to have guns."
"MacDougall took a pistol from a knight in the royal capital and disassembled it. He synthesized gunpowder — but Salua said that such things had long been secretly researched in Kimrak. In any case, MacDougall became a hero for bringing that weapon, a pistol, to the village. He became a priest and named his village The Great Heart Village."
"... And?"
Orphen urged. The manufacturing of handguns was a big deal, but it wasn't the only reason for sorcerers to try to kill him — Kimrak weren't the only ones who'd succeeded in stealing the secrets of the royal capital. Guns were also being secretly manufactured in the Tower of Fang.
"But MacDougall's goal wasn't to seize control of this village. In fact, he was much more devout in his worship of dragons than the original inhabitants of this village, so it wasn't such a bad thing when he became a leader, but... he..."
Fiena closed her eyes.
"He declared the pistols were weapons to fight sorcerers, and that he would obtain an even stronger weapon. MacDougall... he preached to the villagers that they needed to go to the heart of the forest — the real 'Great Heart', the dragon's sanctuary."
"He didn't know about the Deep Dragons guarding the sanctuary, did he?"
Orphen folded his arms. In the past, Deep Dragons had destroyed anyone who entered the depths of the forest, with no exception.
"He knew... So he was eager to find something that could counter the Deep Dragons. That's when... I came to this village."
"He wanted you to... use your sorcery against the dragon race?"
"Yes."
"That's absurd."
There was no doubt that Fiena could handle the sorcery of the dragon race, but that didn't mean that she was more skilled than the dragon race. The Deep Dragon that had appeared in the village the first night — if you compared its magical composition to Fiena's, hers was like a stumbling child. Or rather, it was as if she was somehow controlling a power borrowed from someone else.
If she were to face a real Deep Dragon, she'd be killed instantly. The sorcery used by the dragon races was clearly not something that could be measured on a human scale.
But that didn't seem to be the impression that his words gave her.
Her eyes suddenly twitched in pain—
"Yes... it's ridiculous. He should never have come up with something like this — and he's... trying to involve me in that plan."
Fiena choked almost like she'd been gripped by the throat, and she harshly shook her head.
"This grave... I dug it myself."
"Grave?"
But ignoring Orphen's question, Fiena continued.
"Tomorrow, the village will disappear. I can't stop it. So... you have to run away. Take Majic and Salua with you."
Orphen stared at her — and she looked back at him, determined, with tears in her eyes. The strength of a cornered animal, Orphen silently muttered.
She continued.
"Salua was the only friend I had in this village. He was probably the only one I could talk to, since he wasn't a Dragon Worshiper, and he had no one but me to talk to. Even so, I was very happy — I'd had no one before..."
Even Orphen could understand the feeling of having no one — sorcerers in the Tower of Fang were almost always orphans. They were also very competitive, so it was hard to make friends you genuinely cared about, but still — he had companions, albeit in a different way from these 'carefree' people. Thinking about it—
(In abandoning those companions, I made actual friends. I can't say which is better, but at least I wasn't alone...)
"I refuse."
Orphen spoke. He could see Fiena's expression twitch in confusion.
"I can't accept your request under any circumstances. I have no intention of leaving you in this village. Especially not after hearing that the whole thing's going to be destroyed."
"That... But I..."
Fiena looked upset and confused. Orphen quickly approached her and grabbed the girl's wrist, gripping it tightly.
"Ow..."
Fiena let out a small scream, but Orphen didn't care.
"Listen — I have a word of advice. When you ask someone for something, be mindful of your persuasiveness. There's no way I would leave a child like you in a dangerous village when you can't even shake off a hand that's grabbed you."
After he finished, he let go of her hand. Fiena rubbed the reddened wrists and stared up at him. Suddenly, Orphen sighed, unable to believe that she had sorcery several times stronger than his own.
(Why is it always, always, always a woman who gets me into trouble!?)
But the morning was already too close for him to prepare an answer for such a difficult question.
After Fiena left, Salua was the first one to wake up. He didn't know if he was tired or if this was another effect of Fiena's sorcery, but he sheathed his glass sword without a word and returned to the servants' quarters of MacDougall's mansion, dragging Vulcan and Dortin along as they were both still unconscious.
"For the record, I don't give a shit about MacDougall's life."
"I know you don't... I knew from the moment I saw that your name was Krylancelo."
"Then why did you attack me?"
"Heh—"
And with a self deprecating smile, he continued.
"That's just more fun, isn't it? Well, why don't I go ahead and ask Fiena what happened after I passed out? I'll stop by on my way home."
— That was the end of their conversation. It took a little longer for Majic to wake up, but it took even longer to convince his student of the situation.
For the time being, he refrained from telling him that he might not stand a chance with Fiena.
Table of Contents
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| (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) |
Priestess of the Forest Deep Dragon Orphen's Imprisonment Fiena's Request MacDougall's Secret Rapid Slaughter |
- Notes
- It's mentioned earlier in the chapter that MacDougall brought someone from Alenhatam to help him build the village up, but later, this is changed to Kimrak. I left it as is in its original form, but this was probably meant to be Kimrak in both cases, given that MacDougall is from Kimrak and Alenhatam is south of Fenrir, while Kimrak is North of it.