"Successor, Come To My Tower" V6 Chapter 6 - Burning At Midnight
It was already several minutes past midnight.
They all huddled together in the woods during the night. There were no clocks, but he could still tell time well enough — Thin clouds swirled in the sky, and he couldn't tell the hour based on the position of the moon, nor were there any bells ringing to tell him the time. He of course hadn't been counting the hours since he'd left the house, either. Yet, at midnight — he knew.
To enter the Tower of Fang required a security check at the door. They couldn't afford to take the usual route, and Orphen and the others were hidden a little ways away from the main gate. Before their eyes, there was a huge wall that was towering over them.
The three of them stood side by side, looking at it with a glance — and then a voice broke the silence.
"... Well, I've got a pretty good idea of what's going on."
Orphen side eyed Cleao, who nodded assertively with Leki curled against her chest.
"Do you really understand..."
"Yeah."
The girl nodded, and tucked her chin down to her throat.
"I got hit in the end because Majic stole some book, and Tish got sent to the hospital — And the only way to avoid further pursuit is to take our stand here and get rid of the bad guys. That's it."
"........."
Orphen spent some time repeating her words in his head — Her outline of the situation wasn't wrong, but she had omitted some details, so she couldn't possibly have a complete understanding of it. Still...
"Do you really know what you're talking about, though?"
When Orphen narrowed his eyes sharply, Cleao pouted and answered back.
"Well, I get the gist of it."
"Umm..."
Majic called out from behind Cleao. Orphen kept a straight face.
"What is it? Shoplifter."
"Hey, master!"
He swung his hands back and forth as he began to whine.
"That's not what happened, I swear. I didn't mean to steal it—"
Cleao watched Majic make excuses with great amusement.
"Like a thief at the scene of a fire, eh?"
Following that, Orphen groaned with his hand on his forehead.
"Ugh... I'm the master of a thief."
"Whaaaaaa..."
Majic's cries were quiet, but still, he turned around and asked.
"But — since we didn't do anything bad, shouldn't it be okay for us to not sneak around like this?"
"Maybe, but... if the security department has to weigh me against Whurl Karlen, I doubt they're going to take my side."
Orphen sighed heavily.
"There's no way to be sure if the report that Leticia was attacked actually reached the Tower or not. If we're questioned by the security department and then try to head straight to the Whurl Classroom, they'll definitely notice."
"... Even still—"
Cleao suddenly spoke up in a serious tone.
Together with Cleao's glaze, Orphen turned to another force to be reckoned with — he looked up at the outer wall of the Tower that stood in front of them, and went silent for a while. He mostly knew what she wanted to say.
He answered before she could say it.
"How do you cross the wall, huh?"
"Well... You can't jump it, right?"
"It doesn't matter if we can jump or not."
"Maybe Leki can jump up there?"
"... What, just throw the black dog over the wall while we fight the mosquitos over here?"
"Then what do we do?"
Orphen sighed, then shrugged his shoulders and lifted the silver pendant from his chest.
"What do you think I am? It's a sorcerers' job to use their sorcery to achieve what they can't accomplish with brawn."
When she heard that, Cleao's expression shined. Apparently she didn't have any more malice as she held up her finger.
"In other words, if you can't accomplish something with strength, do a power up and follow it through with violence."
"... I'm surrounded by people who are eager to see this settled once and for all."
Orphen sighed and pushed Cleao's finger away. Cleao and Majic went after him. It was common knowledge to sorcerers who had trained at the Tower of Fang that the guard's patrol intervals were too far apart after midnight. In other words, that was their chance to go, at night.
He heard Majic's voice, which still sounded a bit depressed as he followed along.
"Um... Master?"
"What is it? Foot soldier."
Guh... He heard Majic make a noise as he retreated, though he didn't go far. And, in his usual nervous voice, he asked.
"About crossing the wall with sorcery... You said to me once that if you failed, your body would evaporate in an instant, or you'd crash and die, isn't that right?"
Orphen turned around with a look of fear on his face.
"I couldn't risk it, not with two other people in my arms."
He pointed to the top of the wall.
"With spatial transition, we can't just go right through the wall. But, because it's so open above, we can just jump over it. With a little bit of gravity neutralizing sorcery, we should be able to jump higher."
"You floated in the sky some time ago, didn't you?"
Cleao reminded him.
Orphen nodded to her.
"That's right, neutralizing your gravity isn't as difficult as spatial transitioning."
He continued while grabbing hold of Majic.
"Even if you fail, you won't need to worry about your guts exploding."
Upon his safe landing inside the Tower of Fang grounds, Orphen looked around. For now, the three of them were hidden in the shadows behind some piled up materials.
In the darkness, it seemed like an artificial building site. No breath nor footsteps could be heard from a single living thing — everything they had felt moving around outside ever since a while ago, was now gone.
There were only mosquitoes that fed on human beings hiding in the brush.
Cleao held Leki on her head and walked up to his side.
Orphen tentatively listened, but she asked in a loud voice.
"Couldn't you teleport into the Tower instantly with Leki's power?"
Cleao seemed to have been churning this about for quite a while — and she was looking at him, thinking. Then, she said to Leki.
"I guess it'd be impossible, after all, you're still a baby. If I say something too complicated, it'd be hard to understand what I was asking."
"Well... I wasn't expecting that."
Orphen looked at Majic over his shoulder.
"And the book, who has it?"
"Ah... I do."
While answering, Majic showed him the black leather cover hidden under his clothes.
"Really..."
Orphen muttered and looked up at the huge Tower that rose up in the dark. If he had to guess, the Whurl classroom hadn't left the Tower yet — and there were several reasons to think so.
First of all, if dozens of assassins were geared up and ready to go in the middle of the night, it'd be impossible for the security department not to notice. In fact, sorcerers performing any kind of 'operation' in large numbers is a violation of the agreement they have with the Aristocratic Federation. Even though violations are often committed, Whurl, who's only a teacher, doesn't have the power to enforce those violations.
Since all comings and goings of the sorcerers were recorded, it'd be more suitable if you left one at a time, then joined up later.
Even though it was possible that they could've left the Tower while the sun was still high, in the middle of the afternoon — after all, Leticia was attacked in the afternoon — they'd still have to join up and prepare for the operation, so it was mostly out of the question. They knew that Forte had marked them. If they moved far from the Tower, Forte's "network" would easily sniff them out...
(If so... they'll use the easiest method — the same way I came in — to try to leave the Tower sometime after midnight, when the patrols of the security department are less frequent.)
In other words, the assassins of the Whurl classroom were right about to leave the Tower.
(Right now, or...)
The spit he swallowed took on a disgusting taste, and Orphen felt oddly alone.
"I'm guessing they won't be anticipating my interception."
"Or mine."
He heard Cleao say to him.
"Ours."
While listening, Orphen abstained from commenting further.
"No, what they expect is for me to intercept them. They aren't thinking about you."
"Oh, so that's why you brought us here?"
Majic asked in surprise. Orphen blinked his eyes, then nodded in a hurry.
"Yeah — That's right."
He quickly sharpened his gaze and turned towards the Tower of Fang—
"Let's go."
Orphen murmured and stepped into the darkness of the night.
This late in the evening the Tower was silent. There wasn't anyone around — the student dormitory outside of the premises had some lights on, but there was little noise from the Tower itself, none that he could hear. The problem was the security department—
Orphen was thinking to himself while silently walking along. Behind him, Majic and Cleao were walking more quietly than he expected.
The security department belonging to the Tower of Fang's executive department could be divided into two sections. House pets or watch dogs as they were commonly called, but the two divisions were actually the gatekeepers and those in charge of security inside the Tower. Although the importance of their rolls were often reversed, with the latter (internal security) they were often seen as the superior position. While the gatekeepers had a lot of manpower, the internal security was often just a few elites — in fact, a shortage of personnel was a chronic issue.
(If I had gotten in contact with Forte, I could've had the security department on my side...)
The ground was disappearing into the shadows as he calculated his thoughts.
(Well, I didn't do it, so it doesn't matter.)
It wasn't difficult to hide yourself when walking the grounds. You could hide in the equipment room or the remainder of the neglected building materials. Cleao was following him as well — and suddenly, Majic's words came to mind.
— So that's why you brought us —
(Maybe... I should've done things differently.)
He pondered himself absentmindedly.
It was a moonless night, but he could see the area if he looked hard enough. It was probably thanks to the lights coming from the dormitory in the distance. Orphen glanced over his shoulder at the two of them.
Cleao was running along with them without any sign of nervousness. She was wearing her battle suit again, which she had borrowed from Leticia the night before, after growing tired of the blade-resistant jacket. This time, she hadn't put her hair down the back of the suit — She'd learned her lesson when she took her clothes off and found that she'd lost a lot of hair that way. Of course, her hair was then in the way, so she wasn't wearing a mask, either.
Come to think of it, he'd never seen this girl scared of anything. Even now — The word "Tower" must not be an object of awe for her. Thinking about this, Orphen let out a slight chuckle to himself. He suddenly felt like he understood why this blonde girl had been sticking around through all of the turmoil he'd been involved with, almost incessantly and without complaint.
Behind her, Majic was running after them. He had a sad look in his eyes.
He was wearing the black outfit that he hadn't seen much of lately. He was holding the collar of his cloak, maybe because he was nervous.
When he'd told him that they were going to break into the Tower of Fang, he hadn't said anything. He only showed a bit of surprise when he'd heard that Leticia had been injured to the point of needing hospitalization over the book that he'd taken.
(When this is all over... I'll tell them everything, both of them.)
Orphen quietly made up his mind.
(Maybe they already know... Who I am, who Childman is, and that my journey is no longer just about collecting a debt.)
Then—
Orphen stopped in his tracks.
"Aaahh!"
Cleao shouted, slamming into his back. Majic slowly walked past her, then stopped himself.
Orphen stopped and looked at Cleao, who was holding her nose with Leki on her head, and patted her on the head, prompting her to look at him. The Tower of Fang loomed in front of the three of them.
Although the Tower of Fang was designed as a fortress, once the outer walls were breached, the site was easy to understand. However, entrance into the tower itself was the final barrier.
From the outside, there was no entrance on the first floor of the tower — No windows either, it was just a solid wall. There was a five-meter wide staircase made of stone in the center, leading to the entrance on the second floor. However, from outside, the story was different. The floor with the entrance was still referred to as the first floor, and below that, there was an underground warehouse — more like a junkyard.
Of course, the security office was right next to the entrance, up the stone stairs. No matter how you tried to sneak up there, any intruders would be in full view.
However, from the bottom of the stone stairs, it was impossible to see the window of the guard station. That is — There was a single gas lamp hanging outside of the lookout window to light the Tower throughout the night. There wasn't much lighting inside the guard room, either, and because of the reflections of the light, the guard room itself would become like a magic mirror.
(Even with such a simple structure, it's annoying not to know where the guards are at.)
Orphen muttered under his breath. He could perhaps use sorcery to guide the light and create blind spots, but he'd have to make sure that the voice carrying the spell couldn't reach the station.
That was a fatal flaw of voice magic in general. It was completely useless for covert operations.
"... What are we going to do?"
Cleao asked in a whisper. Leki nodded from the top of her head.
"The only way in and out of the Tower is through here."
"Isn't there an emergency exit?"
Majic whispered. Orphen shook his head.
"They don't need an emergency exit when they can jump out of any window on any floor."
"Well, that's true, but..."
He mumbled and then blinked his eyes as if he had another idea.
"So those people from the Whurl classroom are going to escape through the windows, right?"
"In order to neutralize gravity, they need to make their voice reach the ground during the spell. If you jump out the window while yelling, security would notice."
"Well, they could jump... from the lower floors?"
"The first floor is made up of the administrative offices and the second floor is storage rooms. Both are heavily locked and have a ton of alarm systems. The security system is deliberately complicated, so it's not something that can be disabled by sorcery."
"But... They're assassins, aren't they? Shouldn't they at least have a key..."
Cleao asked. Orphen shrugged his shoulders.
"Stabbers and lockpicks aren't the same thing. Assassins are different because assassinations usually happen outdoors — if you go to the trouble of hiding in someone's house, there's no easy way out."
"............"
Both Majic and Cleao were silent for a while.
Then, Cleao suddenly raised her voice.
"You know, Orphen, maybe those assassins won't be able to get out of the tower tonight, so what's the point?"
When Orphen heard that, he closed his mouth.
He understood why she asked that — after choosing his words carefully, he replied.
"There are only four full-time guards within the Tower... So we'll keep a close eye on the entrance, so that they won't be able to escape without them noticing."
Then, pointing to the main gate of the Tower's wall, which stood across the grounds behind them, he said—
"When it comes to the gatekeepers, however, there are over a hundred men making up four teams, rotating in shifts, and patrolling along the main gate and outside the city walls. It's not impossible for a small group of people to get past their watchful eyes. The only problem is that dozens of people will gather at the drop of a hat, so if spotted, even the assassins from the Whurl classroom wouldn't be able to escape unscathed."
"... What are you trying to say?"
"There's one way to get past the internal guards. If it's impossible to get by them without being noticed, you can still pull it off even if you are noticed — It's just four people. That's an easy enough task for the guy's from Whurl's class."
"...! Are you saying they'll have to kill them to get through?"
"They're assassins."
Orphen affirmed quietly.
"And there are dozens of them. I'm not sure exactly how many there are, since some have probably come and gone since I left the tower, but I'm sure it's no fewer than ten. I can't handle them... not alone. I can't. I don't even know if I can afford to protect you guys."
"Can't you ask your friends from the Childman class for help?"
Majic asked expectantly.
Orphen answered immediately.
"I would if I could."
Even though Leticia's wounds were completely healed, she'd lost a lot of blood, and physically and mentally, she just couldn't be discharged right now.
He couldn't get in touch with Forte — At least not at his home in Taphrem. In the worst case scenario, he may have already been killed at the hands of the Whurl Class.
Korugon and Hartia weren't in the city in the first place.
Comicron and Master Childman were no longer in this world...
Azalie—
Orphen felt his mood slipping into a depression as he started thinking of her.
Azalie was secretly waiting at the hospital to protect Leticia in case he failed — or, to a lesser extent, was outsmarted — before he could even reach the Tower. She couldn't be seen in the Tower anyway.
Tifis, Pat, Vulcan, and Dortin were out of the question.
"So, what are we going to do..."
Cleao whispered while he was thinking. Her question was followed up by Leki, who raised his front legs into the air.
"I have no idea."
"Oh?"
She answered, then continued.
"Well, I'll ask Leki to blow away our enemies, along with the whole tower... Huh? Why are you choking me, Orphen?"
"If you're worried about Leticia's safety, wouldn't it have been better to wait for her at the hospital? Though, there's always a risk that she might get caught up in that..."
Orphen sighed and answered at his own pace.
"If you want to stop a Stabber you can't sit around and wait for them — they plan their attacks properly. It's impossible to prevent their attacks if they're carried out according to those plans. The only way to stop them is to attack first. Faster than the enemy can. And—"
"... And?"
Cleao asked. She was trying to get out of his light chokehold — and perhaps as a last resort, opened her mouth to bite him.
Orphen chuckled.
"I'd like to give it a try, you know? I want to see if I can beat them with my power. Am I—"
He raised his head and looked at the tower.
"I want to see if I really am the Successor of Razor Edge."
Cleao bit his hand.
For the time being, he let go and looked at the two puzzled people. Orphen changed the subject, whispering.
"Well, I can't just sit here and think about it. Anyway, I'm going to run up to the office. I'll just explain the situation to them, and we'll see how it goes."
"Uh-huh."
When he heard Cleao's reply, he ran up the stone steps — Cleao and the others followed.
They entered the light of the gas lamp in the security office from the darkness, and could no longer escape into the shadows or go back.
As he ran up the stone steps to the entrance, Orphen kept thinking to himself.
(This is all too obvious...)
His boots kicked off of the stone steps as he continued to run, steps that had been scuffed and scraped by the shoes of other sorcerers for hundreds of years.
(The Successor of Razor Edge, the "Successor of Steel")
Perhaps that was what she needed — the great white sorceress and all those others who'd been killed — his successor.
(And that's the only thing that can stop her!)
He silently screamed to himself as he climbed the stone stairs and leapt through the doorway — which had been left open.
"Let's keep this quiet!"
He shouted into the dimly lit room. He raised his hands in the air to show that he wasn't hostile.
"I'm Krylancelo from the Childman classroom. I snuck into the Tower for an emergency—Hmm?"
He said, then stopped.
Inside the security room, there were only two desks and a few lockers — that was about it. A bundle of paper that seemed to be some kind of document was scattered around the desk. The incredibly filthy coffee maker still seemed to be in use, with a little dark liquid at the bottom. But—
"... There's no one here, is there?"
He heard Majic mutter.
He turned around to see Majic standing beside him. Cleao was waiting at the entrance, as if she didn't want to enter such a messy room.
"Doesn't seems so."
Orphen agreed, scratching his head.
The office was unoccupied. According to the duty roster on the wall, there were three shifts, and four people were supposed to be on duty tonight.
There was only one reason for their absence.
"The Whurl Classroom... Have they already started to move...?"
He muttered in horror. A moment later—
"No, only just now."
"—!"
The voice was coming from above them, in the ceiling. As soon as he started to turn around..."
"Yaslan's Coffin!"
Boom!—
The walls of the chamber started to vibrate, and then they heard the crushing sounds of destruction all around them. Fine sand rained down from the ceiling, and glass shattered somewhere — outside the window, the gas lamp fell with a thud. The lights went out, and darkness oozed into the space, filling it in an instant.
(The station is — being compressed!?)
"Orphen!"
At the sound of Cleao's voice, Orphen reflexively shouted back.
"Don't come in here!"
He waved his hand towards the entrance where she stood, and then wove the magical composition towards the ceiling. He had a rough idea of where he thought he'd heard the voice coming from earlier, and shouted.
"I release, the Sword of Light!"
Instantly, a wave of heat and light swirled through the ceiling. The raging shockwave was accompanied with an explosion that rocked the area.
But there was no response.
(I missed!)
He clicked his tongue and jumped away from the hole that the photothermal waves had shot through.
"Demon Sword of Puanuuk!"
The voice sounded as if it was following him. The thermal shockwave shot out of the hole that had just been opened, as if it was paying him right back.
And then a huge explosion detonated in the station.
He didn't remember exactly how he had escaped — He thought he might've jumped out of the window. Either way, Orphen was throwing himself outside, with exploding flames at his back. Behind him, the security office was burning.
"Majic! Cleao!"
Orphen shouted their names as he rolled across the ground — but when he looked around, he couldn't see them anywhere in the area illuminated by the flames.
"Damn it!"
He tried to weave a spell to extinguish the flames but...
As he stood up and turned towards the office, a man's figure came into view.
He looked down at him from atop of the blazing building, with his hands hanging at his sides.
"Hydrant!"
Orphen shouted at the man. Hydrant stared at him, and then laughed.
He was laughing. And he wasn't wearing his mask. He was dressed in standard combat gear with a long sword in his right hand.
He slowly opened his mouth — and even more slowly, he exposed the scar that was torn across half of his face, shown off in the flames that seemed to illuminate the bright night sky.
"Let's make a show of it, Krylancelo."
"Sure, why not..."
Orphen smiled sarcastically as he took his stance.
"But wouldn't a big bonfire like this get the attention of the security department?"
"Maybe so."
And laughing — Hydrant shrugged his shoulders as if to say, so what, and continued. He could hear it clearly, although it was quite difficult to hear in general with the flames exploding around them.
"But it's our Master, Whurl Karlen who will get the blame, not me. I report directly to the Executive Department. Besides, I can get some points for mediating a private dispute between the Whurl and Childman Class. Whurl, thinking he still has some strange sense of duty to me as a former student of his, is being careless in that regard. As long as I can kill you, that's all that matters."
Orphen shouted.
"You attacked Tish!"
"And what about you!"
Hydrant screamed back — jumping off the roof.
"What are you doing, hiding that the Demon Witch is alive!"
Orphen jumped back to dodge Hydrant's sword, which he had swung down just as he landed, and then reached out his left hand. He chanted.
"I release, the Sword of Light!"
"Mirror of Tamankama!"
The thermal shockwave that swelled and exploded between the two of them was caught by the magical barrier that Hydrant had created.
Orphen jumped back again, unconcerned. He moved along the outer wall, away from the entrance of the Tower.
(This isn't the time to be worrying about this guy...)
He looked at the Tower, calmly assessing his situation.
(There are no internal guards. If they've already been killed by the Whurl Class, that would mean that they've acted faster than I thought they would...)
He shouted an incantation in a desperate attempt to find a way out.
"I brandish, the sword of the devil!"
With a whoosh, he felt a weight in his right hand, as if he were actually holding a sword. Immediately, he wove another composition.
"I run, along the heavenly mountain peaks!"
The gravity was neutralized, and for a brief moment, his body bore no weight.
Bam!
In that instant, Orphen kicked off from the ground as hard as he could — he could hear the strange sound of the air currents rippling around his ears. He jumped up — and half a second later — jumped into the third floor window of the Tower.
"Let's gooo!"
With a shout, he slammed the sword in his hand against the window.
The glass shattered. The weight of the sword disappeared from his hand, and the effect of the magic was broken. Covering his face with both arms, he rolled into the window where the glass was broken out.
Ahh—
After entering the tower, he stood up. He walked to the center of the room, away from the shattered glass, and mumbled.
"I bring forth, a tiny spirit..."
Along with the spell, a magic wisp of white light emerged somewhere around his shoulder. The spell illuminated the interior of the room.
"... Here...?"
Orphen slumped a little and thought to himself.
He had jumped into the third floor, the physical training room — a place for training in martial arts. It was a familiar and nostalgic place...
And then, from behind him, a voice said—
"So this is where we're going to end things?"
Orphen silently turned around.
Hydrant had jumped in and was leaning up against the broken window. He had already entered the room and was comfortably slinging his sword over his shoulder.
The gymnasium was huge, with only a few small benches scattered about, and no equipment of any kind. All of the weapons, including the wooden swords used for practice, were supposed to be put away in the storage room. The floor was made of wood — the walls were also wood. It was different from the linoleum hallway. However, it wasn't wood flooring itself, but a soft synthetic board that was deliberately laid on top of the floor.
Hydrant sat up from the window sill and spoke.
"You miss it, don't you? Krylancelo."
"Yeah."
Krylancelo admitted curtly. Orphen moved the fire closer to the ceiling and increased the light a little — this would shorten the life of the fire considerably, but considering the size of the room, the light was still insufficient.
Hydrant approached him, regardless of his gaze — until they were ten meters apart. It still wasn't close enough for a proper fight. Even with sorcery, at this distance, there wasn't enough room to instinctively weave a defensive composition when you took the space into consideration.
With his free left hand, Hydrant gently stroked his cheek — the cheek on the left side, with no face.
"Have you ever thought about this scar? Have you?"
"... Not really."
In response to his surprising answer, Hydrant's expression twitched with anger for just a moment. But, that look on his face quickly disappeared and returned to a calm state.
"I've been haunted by this scar every day for the past five years."
"That's too bad."
Orphen put his hand inside his jacket. He pulled a dagger from a sheath that was sewn to the interior.
In the light, the cold blade didn't even shine.
He stared at its tip as he quietly muttered.
"But... Only because the things you talk about are incredibly boring."
Yet Hydrant ignored him and continued.
"I don't care about whatever book Whurl Karlen is looking for, as long as I can extract my revenge against you. I don't care — I don't care! I just want to pay you back for the scar you gave me in the royal capital."
"Go ahead and pay back that debt, but take it up with somebody who cares."
With a sigh, Orphen dropped his right hand, still holding the knife to his side. He decided to just say it how it was.
"I've got some good news for you."
He could see Hydrant in front of him, rushing towards him.
"Just like your damn wound — Those words you spoke back then tormented me!"
Clang!
With a high-pitched sound, metal struck metal and sparks flew.
Orphen shouted out as he used the knife that was gripped firmly in both hands to casually deflect the sword swinging down at him.
As he retreated, Orphen screamed.
"If I owe you for this, then you owe me for Tish's fingers!"
"Orphen! Majiiiiic!"
The sounds of the explosions and the hot air from the entrance pushed them back a few steps, but Cleao was screaming out for them — Instantly flames swirled inside the office, and the two figures disappeared. It seemed that some kind of spell had been shot down from the ceiling.
After trying to force her way through the entrance — and simply stomping her feet in the oppressive heat — Cleao shouted once more.
"Orrrrrpphhheennn!"
But there was no reply. Only the roar of the flames, and the sound of the expanding air bursting through cracks in the walls — the sound of something cracking, something falling, and something cracking again.
She stared into the flames.
Cleao managed to see two figures among the raging heat waves.
"Leki!"
With a pleading cry, she lowered the Deep Dragon child from her head. Clutching him to her chest, she continued.
"Please — Anything is fine! Just help them!"
"—!"
There was no sound—
Cleao just instinctively realized that Leki had done something. The baby dragon didn't seem fussed, and simply nuzzled his nose against her neck. Cleao noticed that his gaze then swept to the interior of the building. When she quickly turned to follow his gaze, she saw that the figures she had seen before had disappeared.
"Hooray!"
She shouted with glee as she lightly touched her lips to the tip of the dragon's nose. Of course, the disappearance of the figures could simply be due to the fact that they had been completely engulfed by the flames, and she wasn't even sure if they had been human figures in the first place, but Cleao believed it anyway, from the bottom of her heart.
"Disappear..."
The flames of the hut were extinguished, following the sound of a thread being pulled taught and cut. Immediately the heat that had been burning her eyes and the red glow that illuminated the area disappeared, as if it had never even happened.
"Leki? ... Was that..."
In the darkness that suddenly enveloped the area, Cleao groaned and broke out in a cold sweat — The smell of the burnt air made her take half a step back. As her eyes gradually adjusted, she could make out what appeared to be the outline of a person in the darkness.
The outline moved slightly.
"Illuminate."
He mumbled, and then — a ball of light appeared right next to the figure. Exposed by the white light, he was no longer a shadow.
It was a young man, standing alone in the office, with his cold gaze fixed on her.
He was young, but still a bit older than she was — about the same age as Orphen, Cleao vaguely thought. She saw a toy-like skull ring on his right hand as he held it up without a sound.
He had black hair — and a white tall-necked shirt peaking out from under his dark jacket. He was a tall and quite handsome man. She could hear him talking to himself, which seemed suspicious.
"Milan Tram... What are you thinking... creating a scene like this?"
The man looked up abruptly, his cold gaze tinted with a hint of amusement.
"Hey, girl?"
"H-Hey, what are you thinking?"
She was slowly retreating, keeping up a reasonable pace — but it seemed like the man was approaching her at the same speed.
"Who... are you?"
She posed a question to the man, who silently walked up to her. Then—
《Vinvi Stottaul. That's what I've been calling myself these days, anyway. I forgot my real name after being tortured two years ago.》
(Huh...?)
The voice echoed inside her head with no warning whatsoever — but it wasn't a real voice. It didn't even resemble the voice of the man standing in front of her.
But somehow, she knew that these words came from his mind.
Naturally, her gaze drifted down—
(Is this child... relaying his thoughts?)
Cleao began to realize as she watched Leki, whose gaze was even more intently focused on the man.
One after another, the voices popped into her head, then swiftly disappeared.
《If I kill Krylancelo, my work will be done for the night. 》
《There were supposed to be three of them, right...? Krylancelo was chased by that idiot, Milan. There should've been another kid in the office, too. Majic. 》
《Me and Suaine jumped through the hole in the roof — immediately after the explosion. That was Milan's handywork — I heard his spell. The security department must've noticed. Well, either way, it's not that difficult to get out of here by taking advantage of all the turmoil. If I'm alone...》
《That's strange. I'm sure he was here. Where'd that Majic guy go? And Suaine. Shit, if this is all I've got left to play with, it won't be much fun. 》
"What do you mean, 'If this is all'!?"
After the involuntary scream — Cleao flinched back. The man — apparently named Vinvi — had a sudden look of alarm on his face.
The next words that popped into her head were short.
《What? —Kill her!》
Kill the unknown.
(Humans really do short-circuit sometimes—!)
Cleao screamed in her mind, backing away and shielding her face with her left arm, as if to protect herself from her enemy's actions. At the same time she raised her right hand — even if she was aware that it would have little effect. She heard Vinvi shouting—
"Melt!"
(This is it!)
She had no time to prepare for her death—
The next thing that echoed through the air was a small sound. A popping noise, almost like an explosion. At the same time, something slipped past Cleao's left arm and struck her in the face.
And then, a scream.
"Eugh—AAAAHHHH!"
Vinvi was crouched on the spot, clutching his right hand. His left hand was gripping his bloody wrist. It seemed as if Leki had carried out some kind of counterattack while their opponent was trying to cast his spell.
Cleao had a bad feeling, and carefully squinted. Vinvi's right wrist was torn away, as if it'd been completely blown off.
(... Did it get blown up?)
Suddenly she stopped thinking, and remembered. Something had flown into her face...
It was still stuck between her eyebrows. Sticky, almost like an adhesive.
She turned pale, pinched it, and peeled it off—
The first thing she saw was a bloody skull.
She screamed and instinctively flung it from her hands. A second later she fell flat on her butt, then pointed at Vinvi, who was still crouched down nearby.
"W-What the hell! Your finger just flew into me!"
But of course, he didn't answer.
"You... bitch..."
He raised his voice in anger, something glistening in his eyes.
"Heal...!"
As soon as he mumbled the words, his right hand stopped bleeding — the torn off wrist was wrapped in new flesh and the wound disappeared. He stood up and looked down at her.
"So... That's a Deep Dragon. But, it's still over..."
"W-What's over?"
She asked, still inching across the ground on her butt, backing away from him.
"Just try something weird like that again — This time it won't just be your hand."
"Oh?"
With a grin, Vinvi continued—
"How?"
"What do you—"
While answering, Cleao tried to hold Leki out in front of her. Then, she suddenly stopped moving, and turned pale.
"... Huh?"
She said, staring down at her empty hands.
"Leki? Where—?"
"Come on."
Vinvi replied.
Cleao was horrified, and thought about the last few moments. When she was screaming, she'd thrown her hands out to throw away the finger—
"Did I throw Leki away too!?"
She looked around in a panic, but couldn't see the baby dragon anywhere.
"Die!"
"Aaaah!"
She got up from the ground at the sound of Vinvi's spell.
She ran away, with the sound of explosions and fire behind her.
(You've got to be kidding me...)
She ran through the darkness — and although she didn't fall into the ditch that had been dug, she lost her bearings. She could see the silhouette of the Tower of Fang towering over her, pitch black in the darkness, but the large structure made her lose track of how far she had run.
She guessed that she was probably backtracking through the shadows. She ducked behind some materials and held her breath.
(Orphen said guards would rush in from every direction as soon as someone made a scene — but no one came!)
She figured even if they did come, she'd be caught for tresspassing, but that would still be better than nothing.
(That guy Vinvi, he looked like he was really going to kill me.)
As she mumbled, she dug around in her pockets for a weapon — She'd hoped to find Leki, but honestly, she was reluctant to go back to where she had been before.
(Oh god, how am I supposed to handle this when I'm so weak?)
In the end, there was nothing in her pockets, so she hurriedly began to take off her shoes.
(Orphen and Majic are so useless in situations like this!)
"Whaaaaaa!?"
He let out a loud scream as a swirl of bright red light stained his vision.
It felt exactly like how he thought being ungulfed by flames would feel—
It hurt. Of course it hurt. It felt like he was being exposed to every lie that he had ever been told — Majic was screaming in his head, even though he knew that wasn't quite right. This was just another lie — and death would be his final salvation. He could see heaven. It was a beautiful field of flowers... He started to feel like he was falling asleep. It wasn't hard. Come on...
(No, not you too!)
He screamed in his chest as he tried to put out the fires that were gnawing at his flapping cloak.
(This is no joke — It's hot, it hurts, and I don't know what's going on around me. I can't breath, I can't stand up, I can't even open my eyes...)
Majic was so utterly confused, flailing as he was engulfed in the flames that suddenly filled the stuffy room. He felt like he had gone on a rampage, but in reality, he couldn't even move anymore.
(Why can't I move!? How can I not know how to move, it's my own body?)
He tried to pump saliva into his aching throat as he complained about his senses, but his tongue was dry and wouldn't even move.
(Oh no — I'm really going to die... I'm supposed to play games with mom on my birthday, but I won't even make it to the city...)
At some point, although the pain hadn't gone away, he could no longer feel the heat. Instead, it actually felt like the cool night air was caressing his body.
(Oh, right, even if mom comes home for a visit, I've still gotta get initiated into the Tower... I wonder how many years I'd have to spend in this place? Do they have summer vacation? Why did I decide to join the tower in the first place...?)
His kneecaps were so heavy that they stuck to the hard floor, as if he couldn't even support his own weight. He didn't have the strength to stand anymore. It was dark — Before, even when his eyes had been closed, he could still see the red-hot flames peeking through the cracks of his eyelids, but now he couldn't see them at all.
It was as if he was sitting alone in the dark.
(... Huh?)
Majic looked up when he noticed that. He opened his eyes and pouted.
"... This is... Where am I?"
He looked around — then looked down at his palms and nodded decisively. He closed his eyes again and concentrated, then began to weave a silent composition, picturing his surroundings — and the world as a whole.
"I bring forth, a tiny spirit—"
Fwoo—
As wind gathered to a central spot, a small will-o-wisp lit up in his palm, which was held out in a pose of lifting water. The fireball, glowing pure white, slowly drifted up to the ceiling.
The light illuminated the area.
"... A business of some kind."
Majic uttered the words as he looked around at the scene that unfolded before him.
That was more or less the atmosphere — There were individual desks lined up in an orderly fashion. But, on the desks, there were piles of documents, strewn all over the place. Attendance sheets and other things like that were pasted on the white pillars here and there, and the names of the staff members on the white board were circled or crossed out, though he had no idea what that meant. At the far end of the room was a large desk with a fireproof safe next to it. The cabinet was stuffed with stacks of overflowing papers. There was also an empty flower vase sitting on the sink in the corner.
So, he had no idea where he was after all — Majic got an idea and clapped his hands.
"Oh, right. When Leki saw I'd been engulfed in fire, he must've moved me somewhere else. Moved..."
He mumbled.
"No, that's not right. There was a cooler way to say it. Relocation? Transfer? No—"
"Transition."
"Oh, that's it! That's Master's favorite stunt. Still, didn't Master say that his is just a pseudo-transition compared to the dragon race's spatial transition?"
After mumbling all that—
Majic quickly turned pale.
"W...Who's there...?"
While listening, he turned around. The room was lit by the will-o-wisp, and quite bright.
Standing at the end of his row was a petite figure, dressed all in black.
Majic quivered with a tense smile, remembering that costume being shown off before.
"The Adorable Masked Clea-chan Number 2..."
"Looks like I was transported along with you."
The clad-in-black Stabber quietly murmured. Majic screamed; he felt like crying.
"Oh nooooo!"
"When the room exploded, I jumped in — but it seems your master escaped through the window before that. Perhaps that thing mistook me for Krylancelo and transferred me instead."
"Oh, that little beast!"
He held his head and moaned, but the enemy was apparently unwilling to sympathize.
He slowly approached, and pointed his finger at him.
"Oh well. I'll leave Krylancelo to Milan... Sword."
The last word was an incantation. Majic prayed for a moment, then unleashed the composition that he'd been secretly weaving.
"I spin, the armor of our halo!"
Right in front of him, a somewhat awkwardly shaped barrier of light was deployed to catch the assassin's photothermal wave. As the air burst and burned with friction, Majic spun around and ran for the exit of the room.
(Master — I've gotta find him!)
The roar that had exploded behind him died away, and Majic, painfully aware of the assassin's presence, headed for the exit without looking back. However...
The next thing he heard was a calm voice, with resolve that deceived what he expected from the assassin that would soon be after him.
"I don't care if you run away, but are you sure that you want to?"
"............"
He had a sinking feeling, and stopped to look back.
The assassin continued in a perfectly reflaxed manner, holding a square black object in his hand.
"You dropped this back there. Mind if I take it with me?"
"That's...!"
Majic looked down at his clothes. The book that he'd been carrying under his shirt — the World Book, he recalled — it was gone!
"You...!"
He muttered furiously — then turned to face the assassin directly. The assassin spoke, holding the book under his arm while showing no indications of fighting.
"I suppose you were carrying it around just in case we crossed paths, but... it backfired. I'm surprised it's you, boy, who had it, and not Krylancelo."
"Master — He trusted me with it!"
"My master trusted me as well, and he ordered me to take it."
As he finished, the assassin turned his hand towards Majic.
"You shouldn't have stopped. You can't get it back anyway, or are you planning to fight me?"
"I release—"
Without an answer, Majic crafted the magical composition with absolute concentration — with no fancy tricks. It had barely worked whenever he'd tried it before. Yet, he was prepared to fire with all of his might—
"—the Sword of Light!"
He shouted. Then—
(... What!?)
He felt like his body had been shoved from behind — but then realized it was in his head. It wasn't that he'd been pushed from behind. No, it wasn't even from outside of his body—
(This feeling is... just like before!)
Recalling that feeling, he pushed his palm further. Something popped in his head, and everything became wonderfully clear.
Boom!—
The light wave was more intense than ever. Like Ymir charging forward one powerful step after another, the orderly desks were blown backwards along each side. He himself was almost swept away by the force of it — and if he'd made even the slightest mistake in the composition, even a single, solitary percent would have triggered a violent reaction, and would have destroyed his entire body — but he still narrowed the target down to a single enemy.
As the photothermal waves reached their target position, they converged into a whirlpool. He focused all of his energy on that singular point.
(Erase him — blow him away — I don't care if the book gets burned — I just can't betray my master's trust—!)
He muttered under his breath, like some curse to chant, as he poured everything he had into the light.
(Master — He's planning to go to Kimrak — I don't want to be the only one left in the Tower — Because I'm considered a liability!)
With each word, Majic felt the force of his power growing stronger, and got even more excited.
(I see...)
Somewhat enlightened, he remembered.
He recalled his master telling him that it didn't matter if you could properly use sorcery or not, only how you used it.
Sigh—
He exhaled his last breath, and the effect of the spell was interrupted. Majic sat in the room, with the destroyed desks and everything else all around him, exhausted and looking down at his hands. He felt sickened by the sweat that had soaked his entire body.
"I didn't... burn myself. I've got it under control."
"You didn't hit me, though."
"............"
He jerked back and turned his head to the side—
There stood the assassin, completely unscathed — still holding the book at his side, in the exact same pose he had just been in before.
As he sat there stunned, the assassin raised his arm in a single, fluid motion.
"Sword."
In the blink of an eye the flash had reached him — and then it exploded.
"... I shouldn't have cut him any slack. I should've just killed him in one breath from the start. Even so... It's a good thing I was able to jump out of the way before that attack."
He looked at the destruction caused by Majic's photothermal wave — the desks were cracked, melted together in that same whirlpool pattern.
"Oh well. In the end, any talent is just a cute trick if you're dead."
"But you missed."
"What!?"
The assassin turned to him with the same look that he'd just had — probably. He couldn't quite be sure because of the mask, but there was a definite hint of surprise in his voice, and Majic felt a faint sense of satisfaction.
He was buried in a pile of desks, two or three meters from where he had been sitting a few seconds ago — and he was peeking between the gaps in them.
"I didn't think I could pull it off, but..."
"Spatial transition, huh?"
The assassin retreated, clearly flustered.
"But this is Master Childman's secret technique!? Why was it taught to a mere boy—"
He thought about it, then shook his head and continued to mumble.
"Well... I'm sure Krylancelo was able to use it. Still... I can't believe this."
"Oh, I didn't learn it from him..."
Majic mumbled as he tried to get up — but was horrified. He couldn't move.
Maybe he'd seriously exhausted his body by using so many intense spells — he couldn't even move his fingers.
"H-Huh?"
He uttered in a hollow voice — Through his blurry vision he saw the assassin taking a battle stance.
"You won't be able to pull that off twice."
The assassin said calmly.
"Sword—"
"Light!"
A voice interrupted from the side with no warning.
Bam—
There was a brief sound, like a rock hitting a tree — and a brilliant light struck the assassin's face from the side.
"Uh...!?"
Majic's eyes widened as the light swelled again, and again, striking the assassin in the side — then finally, in the face again.
"Aaarggh!?"
The assassin collapsed on the spot, screaming while holding his burning mask.
(Just now... That wasn't Master, was it?)
Majic noticed that it was a fairly powerful photothermal wave that had struck the assassin. The composition of the spell — each of which had their own personality — looked like Orphen's, but in fact it was quite different.
At the very least, it seemed like it had a fair amount of power — Even Orphen wouldn't be able to shoot off three perfect spells in a single go.
Majic looked around in terror — and noticed that the door to the room was open.
There was a man standing there. Four sorcerers passed by him and came into the room.
A quick glance told him that the man in the doorway was giving orders to the four others. He was quite tall, with a stern face and a quiet expression. He wore his hair in a long bun, and tied it up haphazardly with a string, but it didn't suit him, to say the least. He was wrapped in some kind of heavy cloak, but he had a sturdy build with a lot of meat on his bones, and at least in appearance, he looked like a sorcerer several steps above his master.
And—
"Aaaaaagh!"
The assassin, who was lying on the floor, suddenly screamed and interrupted Majic's observation. He only moved his head to look at him — the assassin was standing up, his burnt cheek peeking out from behind his torn mask. The wound in his side seemed quite deep, but as soon as he stood up, he dodged the four sorcerers that were rushing towards him, and cast a spell to tear open a new exit, using it to flee the room.
"Wait—!"
Majic tried to get up to follow him, but he couldn't even lift his arms.
Of course, the four sorcerers were far more agile than he was. They rushed for the exit in pursuit of the escaping Stabber.
"Stop!"
The tall man shouted.
Everyone stopped immediately and looked at the man.
He quietly spoke up.
"That's Suaine from the Whurl Class — If you go after him, it'll only end in unnecessary casualties. He doesn't deserve the honor of dying in the line of duty anyway. We'll leave the rest up to Krylancelo."
Then he turned to Majic.
"Besides, we need to restrain this outsider first."
When Majic heard this, he replied with a jolt.
"Hey- Wait. I'm not an outsider! I'm planning to apply for admission to the Tower and—"
"I know all about it."
Although the man said that, he didn't cancel the other four's orders. They carried them out as he stood there expressionless.
"You're going to be my student."
Five years ago, in the royal city of Mebrenst.
Krylancelo looked up in dismay. Even though he'd been summoned by the Court Sorcerers, the Thirteen Apostles, his room wasn't in the royal palace. It was just where students from the west came to await their real test. A tiny inn in the corner of the vast royal capital — that was all the classroom afforded him, after deducting travel expenses.
"What'd you just say?"
Krylancelo replied, as he squeezed his old duffel bag shut again.
A boy stood in the doorway of the room — one not much older than himself, still around the age of fifteen. He was wearing a black robe with a dragon emblem on it, just like Krylancelo. However, although their positions had been similar, they were entirely different. Krylancelo was a trained assassin of the Childman class. Milan Tram — Known as "Hydrant" — had already been assigned to the Tower of Fang's Highest Executive Department.
The nickname, he remembered, had probably been given to him at that time — and for one simple reason. Fire hydrants were everywhere. Milan Tram was everywhere, too. He'd even appeared before Krylancelo's eyes on that very day, after he'd come to the royal capital against the wishes of the Highest Executive Department.
Hydrant — speaking in a quiet voice, said—
"The Elders say that they don't want you to leave."
"Me... but why?"
He asked back.
"Do you need me to rephrase? Well that's fine."
He brushed his hair aside and continued.
"You have to be there — You're the only one in the tower who can kill the Demon Witch at any given moment."
Krylancelo didn't immediately understand what the boy was saying—
But before he could understand, Krylancelo felt a pulse inside of him.
"I release, the Sword of Light!"
Just as he shouted — the wooden floor of the training room was scorched in a straight line, from where he stood to straight towards Hydrant. White light and heat flooded the space.
A sound like that of a damp rag being slapped against a wall echoed through the air, and then the air split — followed by a succession of impacts. The charred floor shattered and soared in time with the rhythm.
Yet, Hydrant remained unscathed with a simple side step to the left, using a magnetic field barrier to block the thermal shockwave. Standing beside the trajectory's wake, he quickly pointed his sword at Orphen.
"Demon Sword of Puanuuk!"
Orphen caught a flash of light out of the corner of his eye — just as he did, he saw the light wave that Hydrant had fired rushing his way, burning across the floor. He didn't have long enough for his brain to perceive the attack and still compose a defensive spell, so Orphen moved to hide behind the photothermal wave that he had just fired — and was still firing.
Hydrant's spell, which raced after him, struck the aftermath of his own photothermal wave and changed its trajectory.
Orphen quickly shouted.
"I repel, the hail of glass!"
Still trapped in composing his last spell, Hydrant's body floated helplessly in the air for a moment — and then he was blown to the other side of the room. Then, with an unmistakable thud! — his body slammed into the wall.
With that in mind — Orphen roughly slid across the floor on his feet. He stared directly at Hydrant, took a widened stance, and raised his right hand. With his left hand on his right shoulder, he shouted with all of his might
"I release, the Sword of Light!"
Fwoom!—
A band of pure white light converged on his target, like a torrent of water running over rocks. But—
Suddenly, the light was shining too brightly in his field of vision.
(—It's flowing back!?)
The next moment, Orphen was caught up in an explosion.
"............!"
He screamed, reeling from the flames that were closing in around his body — the heat waves weren't strong enough to burn his cloths, but they accumulated in that space. He half-staggered out of the way and turned to face Hydrant, but before he knew it, he was staring back at him, as if waiting for his next move. His right hand was held up in a similar fashion to how he had just released his own spell.
Orphen groaned as he slowly recovered.
"...So, you were preparing to reflect the waves as soon as you were slammed into the wall?"
"I'm better at sorcery than you are, remember?"
He grinned and continued.
"The Childman Class is not the strongest. It never was."
"I guess that's true, huh?"
Orphen nodded lightly, and in a swift action he threw the knife in his hand at Hydrant.
"—!?"
Orphen watched as Hydrant twisted to dodge the knife, then he charged — rushing to close the gap and hitting him square in the mid section with his fist.
"You've gotten soft!"
Hydrant dodged the fist with that small sidestep, and at the same time, tried to spin around behind Orphen.
But, it had only been a feint.
(It worked!)
Orphen whispered under his breath, then shouted.
"I dance, among the towers of heaven!"
"—What!?"
Hydrant's voice, hanging just over his shoulder, vanished a second later.
Orphen had cast a spatial transition on the spot, flipping his body to face the other way. With his position now inverted — he was perfectly placed to face Hydrant.
Orphen spoke up as he swung his fist directly into the flank of his astonished opponent.
"In close quarter combat, the strength of your sorcery doesn't mean anything — You could make a person faint from the sheer agony of just setting off a firecracker in their ears."
"You...!"
Hydrant groaned, his face stiffening with anger — but he couldn't move.
Orphen pressed his fist into his enemy's side, and with his head against his chest, he mumbled.
"As expected, that stopped you in your tracks — But I could've missed that little 'short punch', and you could've fought back immediately."
As he said this, he lightly pushed Hydrant's body back with his head.
Hydrant instinctively, but weakly pushed back.
Not missing the opportunity, Orphen stretched and contracted every muscle in his body until they felt like they'd rip right through the skin, then he thrust his fist out. He countered his opponent's attempt to escape with another forceful close range attack. This was one of Childman's signature moves.
Thwam!
It was the sound of Orphen kicking off from the floor as Hydrant fell backwards. He quickly rushed over and tried to slam his heel into the chest of his fallen opponent, but Hydrant dodged it. He forcefully spun his body, getting back to his feet with that momentum, and shouted back at Orphen.
"Demon Sword of Puanuuk!"
"You're too late!"
Orphen threw his right hand towards Hydrant, who was about to unleash his spell. Not with a fist, but with a piercing hand so that he could feel his opponent's leaving breath through his fingers.
That hand was now stuck in Hydrant's face.
"Uagghh...!?"
Hydrant screamed—
Of course, his fingers couldn't punch through a human skull. Orphen's fingers were jammed through the hole that was originally opened — his thumb, from the palate to the throat — and his index finger, between the eyelids of his right eye...
"AAAHH!?"
Orphen spoke quietly to Hydrant, as he screamed in fear and pain.
"It's just like before, isn't it?"
He continued, a ferocious look in his eyes.
"I'll give you the same lecture I gave you then. There are two kinds of fatalities—"
He began, as he moved his index finger slightly, and Hydrant's body quivered. Bloody tears were trickling from his eyelids, where his fingers had sunk to the second joint.
"One is a grievous injury, where all life activity stops in that very moment. The other is a wound that can never be stitched back up. The latter is almost meaningless to a sorcerer who can close a wound in an instant with their sorcery."
"You bastard—"
It was hard to hear with his fingers in his mouth, but Hydrant moaned those hateful words. Orphen ignored them.
He spoke — shouted, even.
"I'm gonna open up the right side of your face, just like I tore off the left half back then!"
"S...to..."
"Those dragon worshippers you killed and Tish both asked you to do the same thing!"
Orphen remained resolute — lost in his rage, as he pulled his fingers outwards, almost to the point of tearing off his eyelids.
When—
A moment later, he felt something warm on his thumb, which he had jammed down his throat to keep him from casting spells.
"Wh—!?"
Orphen quickly withdrew his thumb — and also his index finger. He held his right hand to his chest and looked at it.
The smell of acid burned his nose.
(Gastric acids!)
Orphen clicked his tongue, then screamed a spell to neutralize the acid — gastric acid was a powerful hydrochloric acid. The burns wouldn't be apparent right away, but it wasn't a good idea to leave it there.
At that moment—
Boom!— With a dull thud, the scene before him went dark. The impact of some heavy blow caused his body to topple over on its side. His face slammed into the floor, and Orphen struggled to get up, feeling nauseous. He didn't know if he had a concussion — but he couldn't move his body.
(Did I get hit with... a sword...?)
It must've been when he was neutralizing the acids. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten struck. It seemed like a strike to the head — and he could see blood flowing over his face, leaving smears as the taste of it seeped into his mouth.
There were stars in the distance of his darkened vision, but he just couldn't reach them...
"Even Leticia McCready... is better at judging her situation..."
He could hear Hydrant's gasps for air through his words.
"I regret just taking a finger, I should've just killed her..."
"Y...you...!"
He was screaming — albeit at himself, but Orphen managed to spin his body. Something hard hit his fingertips, and he unintentionally curled them over the object. He opened his eyes and realized he had subconsciously grabbed it. The rest of his view opened up— he was on his back, and Hydrant was standing above him, ready to swing his sword down.
With a brutal smile on his half-torn off and scarred face, Hydrant screamed.
"I win this time, Krylancelo!"
At the same time that the sword swung down, he felt the greatest of clarity.
(This is — the final act!)
Orphen screamed in his heart, pushing the hard object he'd just grasped upwards — a knife, that he threw. The knife blade didn't catch on the sword and instead went flying into the air. Of course he had no intention of catching a sword with a knife. In a split second of clarity, Orphen had pushed up the switch on the handle. The spring popped, and the blade flew out of the handle of the knife.
Shunk!
— Schllliiick...
As the sounds echoed in quick succession, the room turned to silence.
Hydrant was staring down at his hands in disbelief. There was no sword in his empty hands — it had slipped through them and bounced idly on the distant floor.
"Game... set... match..."
Orphen mumbled slowly as he pushed himself up — he threw the handle of the knife aside, and looked at the stunned Hydrant.
The blade of the knife was stuck in Hydrant's right wrist. Fresh blood was spurting from the wound like some ridiculous nightmare. The wrist, having lost its strength, was dangling loosely at the end of his arm.
In silence, Hydrant looked up.
Orphen stared at him, and mumbled.
"Heal your wounds. Maybe you can spare your arm."
"F—Fountain of... Chinook..."
As Hydrant murmured the spell, the wound disappeared and the knife's blade fell to the floor. After looking down at it, Hydrant looked up again.
Boom!
Orphen immediately sent his fist crashing through Hydrant's solar plexus — and he fainted.
His arm hurt...
Vinvi proceeded with caution as he held his wrist, where he had healed the wound with sorcery — the grounds were filled with shadows and full of various objects, necessary (and even unnecessary) materials, something akin to a storeroom, etc.. It would actually be quite easy for a small girl to hide in the shadows.
Normally, it would be fine to ignore a girl like this — In fact, he could be joining up with Suaine and Hydrant instead, helping them eliminate the legendary Successor of Razor Edge. He was sure that'd improve his standing with his employer, Whurl Karlen.
But he wasn't going to let this girl leave alive.
(My arm hurts...)
He didn't expect to be so deeply wounded by someone he thought so utterly helpless.
(I never thought... I'd meet someone like that in such a remote place.. Oh well. I know a good prosthetic hand maker.)
He looked around for his opponent, with a strangely natural smile on his face.
(Maybe I'll cut off that woman's hands and use them to replace my own. Hmm?—)
He raised his eyebrows in realization. Something had fallen in front of a nearby bush.
(Shoes...?)
He couldn't help but laugh out loud to himself.
(An invitation, huh...? Amateur...)
He was sure that she'd attack him as soon as he got closer to pick up the shoes — but he didn't need to get closer.
(I can just blow them away with a spell.)
Of course, if he made too much noise, there was a good chance that the security department would come rushing in.
(Hmm? Speaking of which...)
He suddenly thought, and looked around suspiciously.
(What happened to the security department? After all those explosions... they still haven't sounded the alarm...)
But it didn't matter.
He reconsidered his original choice, and raised his still-intact left arm toward the direction of the shoes. He opened his mouth with a sarcastic grin.
"This isn't some kids fight, and it'd be foolish to think on that level. I'm a sorcerer."
"Really, I knew you'd rely on magic."
"What—!?"
Woosh!
Something jumped down behind him.
Vinvi gasped and spun around to look behind him. When he looked over — and up — he saw what he hadn't seen before, because it was night time. There was a large tree a short distance away, with branches reaching right over his head.
She must've been waiting in ambush there, and now jumped down.
As he turned around, he saw the girl just as she swung something down at him with incredible force.
Gah!
After being struck in the temple, Vinvi was about to collapse — but when he managed to stop, he turned to glare at the girl, and his gaze fell to what she had swung down on him.
"A sock... Did you stuff it with sand!? So, you know a thing or two about streetfighting."
She held it in her right hand while scowling at him. Not liking that, Vinvi continued.
"But you're still stuck with a woman's arm strength — You can't beat me, girl!"
"Actually, I agree."
She said, holding out her left hand. She was holding something with it.
"The other sock is filled with stones."
"...Huh...?"
He waited as she lifted it up, confused.
"This time I'll make that brain of yours skip a beat!"
Whack—
Lights flashed and he lost consciousness — and later that night — Vinvi Stottaul would forget his name once again.
Table of Contents
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| (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) |
Starting At Night Arriving At Morning Rushing Through The Launch Break Moving Fast In The Afternoon Footsteps Echoing After Sunset Burning At Midnight Missing The Sunrise |
- Notes
- Ymir is, in Norse mythology, the first living being to ever exist. He was also the first of the Frost Giants, and was said to have created most of the known world from the various parts of his body. This description denotes the sheer power of the spell that Majic had unleashed.