"Demon King, Tell Them My Dying Wish" V7 Chapter 5 - Its Bound To Be Somewhere
He'd heard the legend.
He didn't know the specifics — because, of course, it was only a legend, not historical fact, but it came from before the history of Kiesalhima. A thousand years ago, in fact. In other words, from the time of myths.
But...
"—That's not possible."
Orphen chose his words carefully — though what came out of his mouth still seemed short-sighted — as he carefully observed the pack of dogs crowding the stage. To put them into words, in a way that was unbecoming of someone who'd received the highest education as a black-magic sorcerer, they were absolutely hideous. They had reptilian, or even amphibious features, but their overall appearance was that of a dog. Aside from the eyes half-protruding out of their skull and the bat wings, of course. Their tails were short. The legs, from a distance, appeared to have merged digits. Orphen had no proper knowledge of biology — but even an amateur could reach the same conclusion. He could tell that these creatures weren't something that existed in nature.
Still, he shook his head.
"The Demon King!? There are no gods on the continent of Kiesalhima!"
"That... is... correct."
The Demon King spoke slowly, and gravely.
"So thou ... knowest this much ... hmm?"
He rested his right arm on the armrest and let his chin rest upon it.
"How ... much ... hast thou ... preserved? Of the ... legend."
"Who cares!?"
Orphen spat.
"I don't have time for this. Do you even know? Where I can find this manufacturing room thing?"
But the Demon King simply ignored the question.
"Answer ... thou."
"......!"
For a moment, he almost lost himself in rage, but he managed to refrain and stayed right where he was. With a nasty look on his face, he continued on.
"I told you, I can't stay! Now, the manufacturing room—"
"Thou shalt ... answer—"
"I just told you!"
"An—swer—thee..."
"............"
Orphen gritted his teeth and swallowed his next words. Before he knew it, his fingernails were digging into his clenched fist.
At that he rallied all the willpower he had left and slowly relaxed his fist.
(I have to figure out the location of the manufacturing room anyway...)
He took a determined breath. Looking back at the Demon King, who was looking down at him leisurely from his throne, he began to speak again.
"Once upon a time, the dragon races stole magical secrets from the gods. The gods were furious, and wanted to destroy the dragon races, but they safely escaped to this continent. The gods are still hunting the dragon races, though they haven't found this continent yet. If they do find it, the continent will be destroyed! — I don't even know how much of this is true!"
"Has thee story of ... the Demon ... King ... been lost?"
"Swedenboli, the King of All Things, planned to destroy all of the gods except for himself and become the one and only god..."
"Enough ... Thy ignorance ... is known."
"The hell!?"
He yelled back — suddenly realizing that it didn't matter. Orphen swung his arm and shot a vicious look at the Demon King.
"— Whatever. I answered your question! Now you'll answer mine — where are my companions!?"
"I have ... no knowledge ... of what— the Corridor Keepers... do."
"Then, where's the manufacturing room!?"
Orphen screamed, his voice becoming an incantation that finally unleashed his sorcery — a glowing photothermal wave that instantly reached the stage and the head of the far right dog — setting it on fire. As he pointed at it, while it screamed and crumbled, turning to charcoal, he continued.
"I'm real pissed now. If you don't start speaking up, you might just be the next one getting turned to charcoal."
"Thine threats ... against me ... are meaningless."
The Demon King went on in a plodding tone.
"Thou only ... accepts thee's ... Master's orders."
"That's all any of you guys do."
Orphen bit his lip in frustration. He wasn't getting anywhere.
"Enough. I'll find it myself."
He turned around and jumped down into the aisle from his seat. He ran through the room and tried to make his way to the exit. Then—
"Is that ... a good idea?"
The Demon King mumbled from behind him. For a moment, he tried to ignore it, but he had no choice but to stop. There was no way he could just disregard that question of "is that a good idea."
"... Why wouldn't it be?"
Orphen stopped and looked over his shoulder toward the stage. The Demon King hadn't moved an inch. Other than the dog he'd burned up, which smoldered and twitched, the others hadn't moved at all.
The Demon King gestured toward the audience only a short distance away with his eyes, the scene reflected in their cold blue color. Not that he could see it.
Orphen also shifted his gaze along that line of sight. Then he involuntarily shouted.
"Majic!"
The blond boy, dressed all in black, was sitting limply in one of the seats — he hadn't noticed him before because of his slouched posture. The boy didn't move when he heard his voice. It seemed he was unconscious.
"So you brought him here with spacial transition too... and took control of his mind again."
He cursed with a feeling of disgust. Majic had shown extraordinary progress in the past few months (though he didn't seem to be aware of it), but no matter what, he hadn't trained him to be able to counteract mind control.
(I should've let him learn it.)
Thinking something so absurd, Orphen ran to the seat where Majic was sitting. It wasn't that close, but not too far away either, so it didn't take him long to reach his student.
When he picked him up, the boy's body was limp and lifeless. It was as if he'd entered a coma with his eyes open. However, if he was under the influence of mind control, he wouldn't wake up that easily.
"The boy ... arrived first ... so thou were'st ... preparing for ... the performance..."
The Demon King's voice came from the stage. He looked up and demanded answers once again.
"Performance? What are you talking about!?"
Orphen shouted back in irritation. The Demon King didn't nod, but simply continued in a barbed tone.
"Yes. The truth shall be told to thee through this play, "The Demon King".
"Then, you are..."
"That's right. I am the Demon King, Swedenboli. I am ... the one who ... shall take the role of ... the Demon King, Swedenboli..."
"Yo—"
Orphen exclaimed, then coughed to regain his composure. He continued in a dazed voice.
"Did the Celestials really go through the trouble of building an 'underground theater' just to put on such a performance?"
"Above ... ground ... would ... not work..."
"... Why?"
He asked back with a puzzled look on his face. The Demon King suddenly looked up from the hand he'd been holding his head with, a smile on his face.
He continued in an indifferent manner.
"It mustn't ... be seen ... by humans. Thus is the true role ... of 'The Demon King. And—'"
"... And?"
Orphen asked back with a vague chill. Holding Majic's body, he positioned himself so that he could run to the exit. Then — the Demon King told him.
"Those who are ... unworthy, to receive this knowledge ... shall be eliminated. That knowledge mustn't ... become known."
At that moment.
The exit door opened with a deafening creak. It was a large door, three meters wide, and opened on both sides. There was only one way out, unless he wanted to jump up to the second floor.
There was a reason that was the first thought to come to mind. The exit doors that opened was lined with the giant dolls he'd seen earlier.
"O God, I am so happy. For after I hast died, I shalln't be able to see you."
"......?"
Cleao raised an eyebrow at the peculiar words she'd heard from... somewhere — the fact that she didn't understand them didn't matter. Yet what she didn't like was the notion that there'd be no need to be grateful to god, even after death. Maybe that was a pointless thought, too, though.
Her eyes were closed, so of course she couldn't see anything. Something cold and hard was touching her cheek, which made her realize that she'd been laying face down. The floor was made of stone. It was a little damp, and she figured that she'd have marks on her face when she woke up. Somehow that made her feel even more irritated.
But aware or not, the voice continued alone.
"I am but an apostate. I hast lived mine entire life defying you. If I meet you, I shall surely be destroyed. I love you..."
(... Shut up, dead guy ...)
She irritably thought to herself.
(My head's screaming... at the top of its lungs...)
It was probably a hangover, she decided. If her head started spinning 360 degrees then this was the work of an evil spirit (she was sure of it), but it was possible that it was just her brain spinning furiously. At least, that's what happened at her thirteenth birthday party when the shenanigans had gotten out of hand. But then, her sister had also passed out in the corner of the room and puked all over their father's trousers as he'd tried to look after her, so it definitely hadn't been her fault...
(— But that doesn't matter anyway.)
She mumbled, and afterwards she opened her eyes just slightly.
All that covered her vision was white. A slightly watery, white color — which meant that there was light wherever she was laying.
(We were walking down that hallway... or so I thought...)
In the midst of her raging headache she'd somehow managed to find a memory from before she'd lost consciousness. She was walking. Orphen suddenly ran ahead of her, and then a doll appeared, as if it'd been watching them—
That's when she'd lost consciousness.
(Then, is there a chance I'm actually dead...?)
She thought absentmindedly. She wasn't sure, but if she didn't reach a conclusion quickly, it could be bad. Failing to realize that she'd died would be the cruelest thing she could ever experience.
(What if, even though half my body's all mangled up, I'm still miraculously alive. What if that's what really happened?)
She suddenly felt extremely anxious, so she opened her right hand — and then closed it again. She felt a very clear response. At least her right hand was okay.
Then she did the same with her left hand. Similarly, she couldn't feel any blood in her palm.
She felt relieved for the time being — since it seemed her upper body was safe — then Cleao finally opened her eyes wide. She got up at the same time. Then, something extremely light rolled down from the top of her head.
"... Leki?"
She called out. The black beast rolled completely upside down on the floor, then somehow managed to right himself again. He stretched out his two front legs and looked up at her with his green eyes.
"I see... so you were with me when—"
The moment she'd mumbled those words — her headache just disappeared, as if it'd slipped away from her body. It seemed Leki had healed her.
"Thank you ♥"
Grateful, Cleao picked up the baby dragon and placed him on her head.
Then she looked from side to side...
"... Huh?"
She froze, her voice taking an odd tone. The first thing she'd noticed was the atmosphere in the room — the lighting. There was a pure white, cold glow. It wasn't the light of the sun, nor the light of a gas lamp. She'd seen this color of light before.
It was the light created by magic. She looked up and saw a ball of light floating near the ceiling. In the center of it, there were flickering letters. The ceiling was so high that she couldn't reach it even if she'd had another adult carrying her on their shoulders. The room was four or five meters square. She'd been collapsed on it, in one of the corners of the room.
Then, in the center of the room, there was something like an operating table — where a woman's body had been haphazardly laid out.
"... Ugh."
Cleao groaned and retreated back. She thought she was looking at another dead body.
— But at a quick glance, she saw that she was breathing.
"Mädchen?"
She mumbled. Mädchen was the one on the table. She seemed to be in good health but her speech, and behavior were far from normal, possibly due to some kind of mind control.
"What shall I speak of? The voice from mine dreams? But I did not want to dream. I want to come to thee, without meeting thee..."
Mädchen was laying on the table, on her back, with her hands folded over her chest while mumbling to herself.
"... What are you talking about?"
She cluelessly asked. Mädchen replied quietly, tears streaming down her face.
"So it shall come true? Then may I rejoice? Joy such as that of an excited hound..."
"What are you so thrilled about?"
Cleao asked, but Mädchen didn't even turn her head to look at her, tears still streaming down her cheeks.
"Those that I killed, were thine enemies. The ones thou disdained. Yet thine anger never ceased. As I knew it would."
"... Well— ... that sounds a little selfish, doesn't it?"
"I shed tears. I knew no pain. I knew that I would be unclean. And when I became unclean, I knew it to be the case..."
She said.
Cleao simply decided it was best to leave this alone and looked around the room again. The area was quite cluttered and messy, and the only reason she didn't run to Mädchen right away was because, frankly, there wasn't anywhere to walk. Objects like hammers, unknown instruments, and even a rusty saw that hadn't been taken very good care of were strewn out across the floor, a mess that'd be quite dangerous if you weren't careful. The only place that seemed to be completely open was where she'd collapsed.
(I wonder what this room is for...)
The question naturally popped into her mind. But then an even more obvious thought took priority.
(So wait, where's the exit?)
There was nothing in the room that looked like a door. There was a square hole in the middle of the ceiling for air, which could be an exit, but it was too high for her to jump through.
"I don't get what's going on."
She frowned, to which Mädchen replied from the platform.
"Thus is only natural. I hast died."
"............"
I wonder if she's really dead — Cleao pondered without much concern as she brushed her toes through the debris on the floor. There were quite a few dangerous-looking items in the room, but nothing that looked like an actual weapon. She didn't feel that she was in any real danger, but she wasn't comfortable with being unarmed, either.
"I wish I still had my lost luggage — but I guess it can't be helped."
Compromising, she picked up the closest object laying on the floor, which was something like a dagger. The reason it was only 'like' a dagger was because it had no functional shape at all. It was housed in a vermilion scabbard and had a handle, so she reasoned there must be a blade beneath the scabbard, so it must be a dagger. The handle, however, was a strange conical shape, thickening as it went down. Even a basic round handle like that would be difficult to grip, too, which left a lot to be desired. The scabbard was in better proportion than the handle, but still had a gnarled shape that reminded her of a ceremonial sword, one that was even a little more outlandish than usual. At first glance, she thought of the murky pond in the corner of her school grounds, where frogs thrived in the early spring. It had a similar shape.
It didn't seem suited for stabbing and slashing. Perhaps it was a french curve with a handle, but she'd never heard of such a thing.
She randomly pulled the blade from the scabbard. As it turned out, it was in the same shape as the scabbard after all — even more hopeless for a weapon, to say the least. She'd hoped the blade would at least be a decent shape. It was made of metal, but its color was neither steel nor silver. Its surface was covered in fine, detailed, yet eerie inscriptions.
(Even my father's collection didn't have anything like this.)
She raised the blade above her head and showed it to Leki.
"Can you read this by any chance?"
But Leki only shifted, uninterested. Kuaaaaa, she could feel him yawning.
Then—
"Have you never considered why it is that the Deep Dragon race doesn't... speak?"
Her back straightened at the sudden voice. She looked around in a panic. There were no signs of anybody else in the room — and Mädchen was still mumbling to herself.
"Who's there!?"
She turned towards the direction she thought she'd heard the voice come from, holding her dagger. The voice slowly continued.
"It's not that they've lacked a voice since times immemorial... but they lost their language. With it, both forms of spoken and written language. If they hadn't had the ability of telepathic communication through means of sorcery, they would've lost their culture as a race, along with everything else... So it's not possible for him to read. Besides, that's our written language."
"Huh...?"
Cleao stiffened, speechless — not at what the voice was saying. Honestly, she hadn't heard half of it. What she'd spotted to make her speak up was an arm sticking out of a pile of junk.
The arm was somehow familiar to her.
It trembled, as if exerting a great deal of force, and then extended further from the junk. It was thin and cold-looking, with strangely swollen joints. It was hard and smooth, flexible yet awkward, an arm that obviously wasn't human...
"You're that doll from before! You're here."
She groaned as she stepped back. Only, her back lightly hit the wall. The arm crawled out, squirming along, as the voice echoed nonchalantly.
"I'm still broken."
The doll had already stuck its head out. The other arm, which was broken in the middle, was also exposed, brushing away the debris. As she watched, it looked as if only the upper half of the doll was sticking out of the pile of junk, and it smiled.
"I require a human to be fixed..."
It began to draw symbols in the air with both hands.
"You've got such bad luck. If I'd been repaired before you woke up, you wouldn't have had to feel such fear..."
"Leki!"
As soon as she screamed, the doll's body was blown away with incredible force, flung back into the wall where it fell to the floor once more. It was indeed missing the lower half of its body. One arm was also broken. Yet the doll easily picked itself up from where it had fallen.
"This level of attack... won't work."
The letters drawn by the doll began to glow silver.
"You...!"
Cleao panicked and readjusted herself. She tried to point the dagger towards it, but her hand slipped—
She dropped it on the floor. The dagger hit the floor at the base of its pointless conical handle and stood there like a monument. The doll was across the room anyway, though. The dagger would be of no use.
"Leki, help—"
She almost shouted, but the letters of gleaming light shot out from the doll's hand before she could even finish the words. They came rapidly flying across the room at her.
(I think I'm done for!?)
She instinctively crouched down and tried to clutch her head. Just then—
Whoom. She heard a loud noise, as if a sheet had just been whipped out over a bed. At the same time, something akin to a wall of light rose in front of her, catching the light symbols as they flew by. The second they hit the wall they were effortlessly shattered.
"What...?"
Cleao groaned in a dazed voice. The wall — as she looked closely — was a collection of letters. All tiny letters of light. Their shapes were all gnarled, yet she felt like she'd seen them somewhere before.
"That... dagger?"
As she muttered she looked down at her feet. The wall of light was emerging from the blade of the dagger, which was still standing on the floor, and the symbols engraved on the blade were being projected like a magic lantern. So that's what it was for.
"Tch... So you know how to use that?"
Cleao heard the puppet click its tongue. Then she came to her senses.
"Leki!"
She shouted, turning her head toward the doll.
"Completely obliterate that doll!"
She continued, pointing right at it. As if in response to her command, she felt Leki's head rise up from hers. The next instant, the doll's body twisted into strange, unnatural shapes, and was then smashed to pieces. Cleao remained tense and rigid, facing the remains of the doll for quite some time, observing it now that it looked as if it'd been crushed by a giant, invisible hand... but after a few minutes, she finally sighed in relief.
"I guess this was a bargain after all... maybe."
She muttered as she picked the dagger up from the floor. The wall of light suddenly vanished. It probably only worked when it was placed on the floor.
"Maybe there's other stuff like this around the room. I don't really want to stick around for too long, though..."
As she sheathed the dagger Cleao looked around with a wry smile. There seemed to be a few things that looked like they might have the same traits, but she couldn't be sure. Eventually, after forcing the dagger into her pocket, she suddenly realized something.
"Mädchen! Did you hear what that thing just said?"
She looked at her.
"They want to use this weird place to harvest us for materials to fix the dolls—"
She stopped moving as she was about to say this. Her face twitched involuntarily.
Mädchen, exhausted from crying, was breathing heavily in her sleep.
"Geez... already asleep..."
Cleao slumped her shoulders as a wave of fatigue washed over her body.
"It doesn't look like she's going to wake up any time soon — in which case it'd be more realistic for me to escape and then come back with help."
After she'd analyzed the situation in her own way, she looked up at the hole in the ceiling.
She put her hand on her slender chin and muttered with a wry smile on her face.
"If that's an air duct, then that means it leads outside. And if the air duct's in the ceiling, that means we're underground. That makes perfect sense, since we fell down here."
— And then she fell silent.
After thinking about it for quite a while, it finally occurred to her. Even if that's how it happened, there was still no way to escape.
"Uuu~~mmm..."
After clearing her throat, she closed her eyes, folded her arms, and chuckled to herself.
"I'm not trying to say that I'm just some one trick pony who has to ask for help in times of distress, or anything like that. It's just that I've decided this is the quickest, most rational option. I mean, I don't think it's fun, or even beautiful to take on unnecessary hardship for the sake of making myself look better, but uhh..."
After she'd explained this, not to anyone in particular, she opened her eyes. Still looking from side to side, as if she felt a little embarrassed, she muttered under her breath.
"Leki... I wanna get out of this room."
In an instant her vision blurred, and her ears popped. She must've lost consciousness, but it was only for a moment, and when she thought she'd blinked, a new view opened up before her eyes.
Then, a sense of falling overcame her.
"Kyaaaaa!?"
In a panic she flung her arms and legs out — she and Leki appeared in what looked like a vertical hole. It was square and not very wide, just wide enough that she was able to catch herself by extending her limbs. From the color of the walls and the size of the hole, she had a vague idea of what it was...
Pressing her feet against the wall, supporting her weight with the soles of her feet and the back of her hips, she slowly looked down the hole — half blind. At the bottom, she could see Mädchen's sleeping face, which looked strangely at peace.
Apparently, Leki had teleported her up into the air duct.
"Sure, that got us out of the room, but..."
After a quick sigh she managed to muster the strength in her muscles and began climbing towards the top of the hole. Fortunately, it was only about three meters long, and it seemed like she'd be able to climb out into the room above. She wondered if she'd be able to keep up her strength for that long, though. If she could find a rope to drop down the hole, Mädchen would be able to escape as soon as she came to her senses.
"Well, whatever. I'll take my chances."
Moving only her eyes she looked up at Leki, who seemed to be relaxing on the top of her head and muttered to herself. Her hair was getting in the way of being able to support her body, with her back up against the wall, so she pulled it around in front of her.
"I'm pretty patient, aren't I?"
Thump, thump, thump, thump...
The monotonous rhythm almost reminded him of something. Dortin had a vague memory of someone who'd written a book saying that everything in this world had a rhythm. Or rather, he wondered if there were phrases like this that no one had taken the time to write in a book.
But there was a rhythm. His toothache, his breathing, that dull 'thump' he heard when he rolled down the stairs.
And now, all he could hear was the rhythmic vibrations periodically thumping against his head.
He opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was a crayfish.
He slowly rose up. The crayfish, snapped onto his nose with its pincers, fell off with a plop. Soon his blurry vision became clearer, and the rhythm he'd heard earlier — the pulsating sound in his veins — gradually faded away.
When he regained full consciousness, he wondered.
"Where am I?"
The room's square — for some reason, that was the first thought that came to his mind. Most rooms were square, but it was extremely obvious here, since there was nothing in the room. It was reasonably spacious, but not very large. In the center stood a two-meter wide waterway, through which the water was quietly flowing. The crayfish must've been living in it. Because of the canal, the room was humid, as well — the walls, ceiling, and floor were all blackened with mold.
The water channel in this room alone had three-tiers. The first tier was the entrance — which was where water came flowing in with considerable force. It was set about a meter off the floor and ended halfway through the room. From there, it continued on to the second stage, which was like a widened basin beneath it.
The second tier was like a slightly wider pool, but the water flow didn't end there. It continued on to the exit — the third stage.
As it turned out, he'd been swept through the entrance of the first tier, failed to land in the second tier, and fallen straight to the floor — incidentally, Vulcan was caught at the exit of the third tier. He hadn't regained consciousness yet, but he didn't seem to have drowned yet.
"I see. The water from the pit must've just flooded into this place."
In other words, this was the water distribution system.
(It makes sense, but...)
Dortin sighed deeply. Now that he knew that, there was nothing he could do. There were no doors anywhere for people to go in or out — except to jump into the third level of the canal. Escape through there was theoretically possible, but the risk of his soul leaving his body seemed even higher.
"There's nothing left to do, then."
Not that he'd done anything in the first place, he thought to himself as he put the crayfish back in the water channel.
"I wonder why there's no entrance or exit. I imagine even if this is some sort of drainage system, surely there must be a passageway for people to come in for maintenance."
"It's maintained by dolls who can transition through space, so there's no need for an entrance."
"... Wha?"
The sudden voice made Dortin turn around — and before he knew it, a dark-haired woman was sitting on the edge of the canal, smiling at him.
After hesitating for a moment, Dortin asked.
"Umm... You weren't there a minute ago, were you?"
"That's right. As long as I've got the ability to use this, I don't need an entrance either."
With that, the woman tucked the small black box held in her hand into her pocket. She looked around the room.
"This place is out of the way, too. I guess looking in random directions isn't going to work."
"Um—..."
Dortin spoke up, anxious. The woman turned her head to look at him.
She was about 20 years old, with mischievous eyes and a quirky smile. She was human, and looked somewhat familiar. Her dark hair, all black, was a bit messy, and though she seemed lazy she also carried herself almost flawlessly...
As these thoughts went through his mind, Dortin continued.
"Who are you?"
"Me? I know a lot about you. I've been watching you, and its lead me to this theater, so it's not a total loss, for you."
Dortin was even more confused at that answer, but he didn't want to offend her by blatantly speaking his mind.
"So, what are you doing here?"
"Well, you see, Krylancelo found a ruin I never even knew existed, so I rushed over here right away. I wanted to rummage around for anything of interest, but warehouses and the like are usually protected by barriers, so it's hard to teleport around..."
She muttered and shrugged her shoulders — then suddenly, she stopped moving.
"W-what is it?"
He asked, but she didn't answer. She just peered at him intently, as if she had something on her mind.
Then, suddenly, she opened her luscious lips.
"I wondered if you'd received something from Krylan — err, Orphen, the other day? A book. One with a black cover, and no title or anything."
"... Do you know him?"
"Yes. He's a very close acquaintance of mine. So, do you remember the book?"
"He gave it to him. My brother."
Dortin answered lightly, feeling no point in hiding it. Then, her eyes lit up with joy, as if he'd just done her a favor.
"So — where's the book now?"
"W — Well,"
Dortin shook his head.
"My brother's the one it was given to. I don't know what he did with his things. I asked him if I could read it, but he wouldn't let me see it."
"He didn't sell it anywhere?"
"I don't know about that. He is my brother, after all."
'He is my brother, after all' had a lot of nuance to it, but he wasn't sure if it got through to her. She tilted her head thoughtfully—
Then she smiled.
"You know, how would you — or rather, the both of you, like to work for me?"
"Huh?"
He asked again — but before he could ask any further, she continued.
"I want you to come with me to Kimrak. That's all I'd ask — and your reward, it'd be unimaginable."
With that, she pulled a wallet from a pocket that seemed to be attached to the back of her waist. She slammed it down and shook it. He heard what sounded like a rather considerable number of coins ringing loudly from within.
Instantly—
"TreeasssuurreeecheessSSSTTT!"
A strange voice crossed his path.
A black shadow rose up with tremendous speed and snatched the purse from her hand — and then, just like that, the force carried it right back into the water. There it sank to the depths, a vague burbling sound sinking with it...
It was Vulcan.
"... What? Was that?"
She looked as if she'd just discovered some otherworldly creature. Dortin sighed and replied quietly.
"My brother. He's still unconscious, but lunged for the money out of instinct."
"Ah yes..."
Fortunately, she didn't pursue the matter any further.
"So, does that sound good?"
He didn't answer her question.
The wallet was still clutched in Vulcan's hand, which was submerged in the channel. Numerous glittering gold coins fell from its mouth, shining even as they sunk to the bottom of the water.
"And that play... The Demon King?"
Orphen quietly asked in return, his back to the stage as he now faced the group of dolls. He was still holding Majic in his arms, but sinec he wasn't likely to wake up for a while, he placed him back in his seat. A moment later, the Demon King answered from the stage.
"If it is the purpose ... for which we were created ... then..."
"They built this 'underground theater' for nothing? They must've had a lot of money and energy, these Celestials."
Orphen sarcastically remarked, but—
"In those days ... our creator ... had no ... extra power ... left..."
"............?"
Suspicious of the Demon King's words, Orphen turned his head and glanced over his shoulder at the stage. Still sitting on his throne, the Demon King held up his slender finger.
He shook his finger as he continued.
"So she ... couldn't ... fulfill her... hopes..."
"What do you mean? This theater was built two hundred years ago. The Celestials must've possessed powerful sorcery."
"It was ... a curse..."
"A curse?"
He asked back, not understanding the words.
"They were deprived of their future."
Only, it wasn't the Demon King who'd answered. He turned around in a panic.
Among the dolls who stood lined up by the exit, one in particular stood in the middle, the corner of his mouth twisted slightly — almost mockingly.
"Even if they could use sorcery then, they would surely disappear someday — that was their curse."
"The same will happen to you all, as well."
Another doll spoke. Then another continued.
"This place was created to warn you of that..."
"Then—"
Orphen interrupted.
"You don't need to detain me or my companions, do you?"
The dolls answered immediately.
"This must not be known by humans. The theater dolls lure sorcerers here, and we only let those who are worthy pass through. We passage keepers serve that very purpose."
"And since you brought a human, we have decided that you are not worthy to gain this knowledge."
"That is why—"
The dolls spoke one after another, then suddenly fell silent, smiling faintly as they looked past him, toward the stage.
Orphen, too, snapped around to look at him, as if he'd reached out to pinch him. The Demon King upon the throne was looking up — as if empowered by all the eyes upon him.
"Thus..."
It was the Demon King who'd whispered those last words. The dogs, all lined up on the stage, began to move slowly, impatiently, eager to get off the stage.
"Thus ... I cannot let thee ... leave here alive..."
"I release, the Sword of Light!"
Without waiting for his enemy's words, Orphen released his magic at its maximum power. A thunderous roar engulfed one of the dolls who'd been caught by surprise, causing it to explode.
Then—
All at once, the dolls began to draw letters in the air. Even just one of these letters of light were likely to have devastating power. Across the eras, no human sorcerers had ever been able to overcome the power of Wyrd Graphs head-on.
Looking at the dozens of doom-stricken symbols being painted by dozens of dolls, Orphen, with a great sense of despair, was certain that he would lose.
(But—)
He shouted in his heart while weaving together a magical composition.
(If there's nothing left to do, not even escape — I'll just go all in, no matter what.)
"I release, the Sword of Light!"
The photothermal wave was released again, only this time it disappeared without even reaching its target. The doll must've defended itself.
(You're the one who said it, Master. If you're wrong, I'll kick your ass in the afterlife, you hear me!)
Picking up the still-sleeping Majic, Orphen dashed to move to another location.
"It's not that I'm, like, you know, complaining."
She mumbled and sure enough complained as she made her way up the air duct.
"but sometimes I think the world is a little crazy when weak girls are forced to do this kind of physical labor."
She took a deep breath, supporting her weight with her back and her feet pressed against opposite walls.
Then she began to climb again, slowly. With no footholds, the climb required concentration — and, of course, physical fortitude. Climbing a precipitous cliff, even one with some unevenness, was hard work, but without even having footholds, no edges to use as handholds, climbing up the inside of a flat, vertical hole was a task well beyond the capacity of any sane individual.
Speaking of, Cleao was starting to get concerned about her back, which was really starting to hurt. She'd had to support her weight in an awkward position for a long time already. She hoped the pain would only leave a bruise.
On top of that, she hadn't noticed before, but for some reason, her legs seemed to have gotten a lot of shallow scratches. They didn't hurt much, but they were bleeding, and she was getting annoyed.
"Geez. Asking Leki for help doesn't always go the way I want it to."
She muttered, and started climbing more frantically.
But thanks to her efforts, she was already close to the exit. If she could just stretch a little further, she'd be able to reach the edge of the hole.
"That's fine, though. Leki's still a baby, so I don't expect much from him, but when I asked him to get us food, he didn't, and now I'm stuck with this athletic nonsense. My lower back's killing me. And I'm tired."
And so finally, she was able to reach the exit — the edge of the hole. She breathed a sigh of relief and looked up.
"I hope all this effort hasn't been in vain."
She muttered sarcastically, and tried to put some strength into her arms.
But at the same time, she felt like she was getting unnecessary resistance elsewhere. With a sudden pop, her thin belt snapped.
"Huh—?"
She moved swiftly, and unexpectedly — grabbing the snapped belt with both hands. Her knees bent to keep her now-loose jeans from falling down.
As a result...
Naturally, everything that'd been holding her up until now, was no longer making contact with the walls.
"Kya—"
She almost screamed and closed her eyes, bracing herself for the coming fall that was about to hit. But — no matter how long she waited, it never came
"............?"
Unsure of what was happening, she looked down. She saw the bottom of the hole — the room full of junk that was far below. Mädchen's sleeping face was still there.
She mumbled to herself.
"Am I ... by chance flying?"
She wasn't flying. She was floating in the air.
Floating within the vertical space, and certainly not falling — she narrowed her eyes, having no explanation. There was only one possibility. She scratched her temples and opened her mouth.
"Leki ... could you maybe just take me to the room up there?"
She began to rise to the surface. Slowly.
She didn't make a sound — and soon she was out of the hole. She'd entered the room above, moved parallel until she was a bit to the side, and was thrown out onto the floor with a thud.
She gave a light sigh and held her head, not because of any particular pain, but because of her frustration.
"I feel like ... I've been saved, but also like I overexerted myself way too much..."
While she mumbled and groaned, Leki jumped off the top of her head onto the floor. He rolled around and looked up at her.
"... I know, I know, I don't blame you."
Then, while adjusting her belt, she looked around the room.
"Looks like ... I can probably walk from here."
She thought to herself, relieved. She grimaced at the pain in her back as she stood up. There was a decent-looking door on the front wall. It could be locked, but that'd be manageable. After all, she had one thing she could always rely on, even in times of difficulty.
A rope ladder was piled up near the air duct she'd just climbed up through — by the hole in the floor. It was secured to the very edge of the hole with a hook. Cleao lightly kicked it down the duct. If Mädchen woke up, she'd be able to use it to climb up on her own.
But before she could wait for that —
She placed Leki on top of her head again, and pulled the dagger out of her jeans pocket, holding it firmly in both hands. Taking a deep breath — and casually rubbing her aching back — she strode toward the door.
(I know what I have to do.)
She thought without uttering a word.
I know what I have to do — Cleao repeated in her mind. She didn't have the slightest knowledge or any clues about what this place she was in actually was, or what the facility was used for, but she still knew what she had to do.
She had to help Orphen, who was still out there somewhere.
(He has to be...)
Table of Contents
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| (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) |
Activated Once More Silence More Like Singing Then Everything Started To Swirl Leaping Into The Light Its Bound To Be Somewhere His Angel And Demon |
- Notes
- A French Curve is a type of ruler used in sewing.
- Magic Lanterns, these types of early image projectors are kind of like those old imagine projectors you might've used in school to display stuff on a screen at the front of the room.