Arc 8, Chapter 17 - 'A Magical Approach”

Arc 8, Chapter 17 - “A Magical Approach”

As much as it was necessary, the certainty that this was an unprecedented situation only grew deeper.

Among the events that had taken place in Lugunica recorded in the history books, was a case resembling this unusual situation, but in that sequence of events, the case was not treated as anything major.

――The Demi-Human War.

It was a mass-scale civil war that occurred in Lugunica’s past, and much like the current situation, it was the only recorded instance in history where the dead rose as enemies.

However, the main focus of the history books were more on the friction between the human and demi-human tribes, and the extraordinary attacks carried out as part of the civil war had not been recorded in detail.

That was regrettable. Had the details of that time been recorded in more depth――,

???: [I’m not gonna fall behind these guys!!]

With a roar and a swing of his fist, a group of Imperial Soldiers, each pallid in complexion, were blown away all at once.

Riding off the energy that had been vigorously drawn up from the ground he firmly stepped on, he unleashed a blow with all of his might, one that was perhaps closer to a cleave than a punch.

In quick succession he repeated the attack a second, and third time, with each blow knocking down the enemy’s formation. ――No, it was not anything impressive like a formation.

At first glance, the silhouettes of the enemy approached side by side, but they had no such thing as tactical leadership, coordination, or strategy. If that were the case, they were simply a cluster of individuals.

If they were merely a cluster of individuals, Garfiel would not be caught lagging behind.

However――,

???: [Zeh-ah! Zuah!]

With a sharp lunge, a double slash grazed Garfiel’s neck.

Feeling his hair standing on end, he glared at his opponent; having suddenly appeared kicking away the fragments of a shattered undead, was another undead clad in an air different from the others.

Garfiel: [Tch.]

With a click of his tongue, he raised his shoulder and checked his neck, where the tip of the sword had slightly grazed him.

The extent of the slash was about a finger’s length difference between the first and second blows. It was the technique of a master who deliberately demonstrated a dodgeable blow, then tried to cut off the opponent’s head with a second.

They were nothing more than a cluster of individuals without any formation, but occasionally among them, there were those who had this level of skill.

As a result, it had become a bit more troublesome than expected, and he assumed that there was one skilled undead out of every twenty. Because of this, he could not carelessly support his allies by saying that they would be fine as long as they worked together.

Based on one assessment of the situation, it was quite possible that a formation of a hundred men could be destroyed by a single skilled undead.

Skilled Undead: [Zeh-ah! Zuah――!]

Garfiel wrinkled his nose, whereupon the undead again unleashed the same double slash.

Contrary to what had just been shown, the range of the technique had changed to be more daring. Earlier, the difference was a fingertip’s worth, and now it was a fist’s worth. A deep cut the size of a fist would be fatal, no matter how shallow the cut was.

However, the undead who had unleashed the technique widened his eyes, a face in stark contrast to that of one confident in victory.

The reason was simple―― their right arm, which had been holding the sword, had been shattered at the wrist.

Garfiel: [No matter how many obvious tricks ya play, yer grip on the sword is always in the same position when ya slash. “The Three-Headed Valgren has but one body”... Hah!]

He switched over to shatter the left hand, and then drove his fist into his opponent’s astonished face.

As soon as the impact of the blow passed through to the back of its head, the undead’s head was blown away as if it were a fruit bursting open. As its head crumbled, fissures went through its torso and legs, and its whole body shattered.

Garfiel: [This ain’t to my liking.]

Looking down upon the wreckage of his vanquished foe, Garfiel voiced those words.

What irritated Garfiel was the way the undead were defeated and destroyed. Since these things were dead, it would not be appropriate to describe it as a way of dying, and more than anything else, the very way they shattered deprived Garfiel of the feeling that he was fighting against something that had life.

All that remained was a faint cold sensation, questioning just what in the world he was fighting against.

Garfiel: [――――]

Garfiel wiped the sweat from his chin with his arm, and when he looked around, he saw an incessant stream of undead soldiers on the night plains that had become the battlefield.

In order to combat them, a tactical delay force, which included Garfiel, was in the midst of fighting hard.

Initially, Garfiel had been assigned to a medical unit in order to make good use of his healing magic, but the policy of preventing people from getting injured suited Garfiel’s nature better than treating the injured.

Petra: [Garf-san, your fidgeting is worrisome! If you’re so restless, go help the people fighting yourself.]

So said Petra, who was working hard in the same medical unit as Garfiel.

Though it was not because she had insisted, Garfiel rushed outside. In reality, as a volunteer, he thought he was producing some good results.

However, he was not so conceited as to say that he was doing the best work here.

The reason was――,

???: [Do it――!!]

A sharp yell echoed in the black of the night, immediately after which the sound of drawn bow strings firing rang out in succession.

In accordance with the yell from Taritta, the chieftain of the People of Shudraq, a tremendously dense hail of arrows was fired.

Rather than as individual arrows, they fell as a single cluster that left no means to dodge; the only way to evade them was to either catch or repel all of them. In fact, the undead, having no choice but to suffer the attack, each tried to utilize their weapons and shields.

However——,

Kuna: [I see it!]

Holly: [Go for it!]

The undead, focused on the sky overhead, were struck by a heavy duty arrow fired from a strong bow by an assertive voice.

Literally, to say that they were shot through would be an understatement; that absurd impact was like being rammed by a full speed dragon carriage. The undead that assumed a defensive stance were blown away along with the group behind them at the same time.

Garfiel: [My amazin’ self ain’t s’pposed to lose to ya, but that’s fuckin’ insane.]

The undead who were weak were eradicated by the rain of arrows which dominated the area, and the undead who were strong and survived that attack were sniped by the strong bow. The rhythm of the coordinated hunters greatly impressed Garfiel.

Even for Garfiel, his movements would halt if he was turned into a hedgehog from getting pierced by arrows, and then in addition to that was the huge damage from the strong bow which he could not dodge. He considered it a relief to have those tactics on his side.

Garfiel: [Well, I got no idea what’s happenin’ ov’r there...]

In contrast to the great strength of the Shudraq, another group won Garfiel’s admiration in a different way—— they accompanied Subaru who should have fought alone in the Empire, they were a group who all looked rough; the self-proclaimed Pleiades Battalion.

Pleiades: [LET’S GO LET’S GO LET’S GO LET’S GO――!]

Pleiades: [STRONGEST! INVINCIBLE! BRING IT ON! BRING IT ON!!]

Pleiades: [UOOOOOOH――!!]

They were abnormally loud in the midst of a nighttime battle, and Garfiel’s eye could not spot anyone as being exceptionally skilled in martial prowess. Of course, many of them seemed to have refined their techniques to the level of an Imperial Soldier, at any rate.

It was hard to say if the majority of them were trained, but they were good at giving into their instincts and the way they raged about.

But even so, they were strong. Already, the difference in physical strength was like an adult compared to a child.

???: [It’s beautiful. Their strength is refreshing.]

A voice reached Garfiel, who was staring at the way the Pleiades Battalion fought. When he turned his head, lined up next to him was a woman with dark brown skin and dyed red hair―― Mizelda.

Mizelda, who had a single wooden leg, wore a smile the color of blood towards the Battalion’s violent fighting style.

Garfiel: [I don’t get it, but they have somethin’ to do with Captain. I do wonder what they’re doin’, but I ain’t worried that it’s bad.]

Mizelda: [Captain... Subaru, is it? Emilia and the others, they put great faith in him.]

Garfiel: [Ha! Faith? A word like that is an understatement. Captain’s a man, a man who gives back my amazin’ self’s expectations and faith a hundred times ov’r!]

It was neither an exaggeration nor a bluff; from the bottom of his heart, Garfiel held zero doubt in praising him in such a way. At Garfiel’s answer, the quality of Mizelda’s smile changed.

From a mask of war, to something that was somehow calmer and harbored a sense of understanding.

Mizelda: [I also understand that feeling. In the Lifeblood Ritual and in all the subsequent battles, Subaru continued proving himself to us. He has the soul of a warrior. Though he may not have a good face for a man, he’d make a good husband for Taritta.]

Garfiel: [Stop talkin’ ‘bout his face! The Captain also worries about tha look in his eyes! Besides...]

Mizelda: [Besides?]

Garfiel: [No matter how charmed someone gets by Captain, there’s someone that he’s already decided to fall for.]

Mizelda: [――I see. That’s right.]

Garfiel rubbed his nose with his finger, and Mizelda nodded profoundly.

He was unsure to what extent were her words a joke and to what extent were they genuine praise, but the fact that Subaru was also valued within this Empire made Garfiel proud.

Wherever he was, Subaru involved the people around him and brought about great results.

However, though Subaru could get on exceedingly well wherever he found himself, it was the wish of Garfiel and the collective will of the entire Camp to have him stay with them.

It was for this reason that everyone went through great lengths to rush to the heart of the Empire.

Garfiel: [And yet, they had the nerve to get in the way of our amazin’ selves reunitin’ with the Captain... Hk.]

While exchanging banter with each other, Roswaal and Beatrice’s investigation of the enemy progressed.

Surprisingly, as they discussed, the two of them checked the disposition of the undead who attacked them, using their respective areas of magical expertise.

Fire, wind, and purple arrows raged, and the undead were unable to get close to the two as they fought back to back.

Of course, Garfiel and Mizelda also attacked the undead to keep them away, but even without them, Roswaal and Beatrice would not be deterred.

Although he would not say it since Beatrice would absolutely hate it――,

Mizelda: [Those two couldn’t be more in sync.]

Garfiel: [We absolutely can’t let them hear that.]

As with Garfiel’s thoughts, Mizelda gave the exact same assessment.

While showing off coordination that could only be described like that, Beatrice, unaware of what they were thinking, lowered her eyebrows and called out “Roswaal!”

Beatrice: [Going to touch them just once, in fact.]

Roswaal: [――How reckless.]

After saying this, Beatrice lightly kicked the ground with her foot and jumped forward.

With a flutter of the hem of her dress, Beatrice’s small body soared like a feather. This was also an unnatural jump, her own weight eliminated by using Yin Magic.

As it was, Beatrice was headed for a single undead who had its back to her―― sensing Beatrice’s approach, it turned around to face her.

Roswaal: [Jiwald.]

A moment later, the undead’s right hand that held a sword was vaporized as it was about to strike Beatrice with it.

Roswaal was pointing at the undead. A white light that had emitted from his fingertip had burned the opponent’s arm. The undead was stiffened in astonishment, and Beatrice placed her hand on its forehead.

Then Beatrice’s distinctive patterned eyes widened,

Beatrice: [As expected, I suppose.]

Beatrice grumbled as her body was pulled away by an arm around her slender waist.

Holding Beatrice’s body close, Roswaal exchanged places with her and delivered a sharp fist with the arm opposite the one holding her, shattering the undead’s head before it could regain its composure.

Roswaal: [Good grief, I’m the one who is going to get scolded by Subaru-kun.]

Beatrice: [And it’s Betty who will get all the praise from Subaru, in fact. ――It’s Restoration Magic, I suppose.]

Roswaal: [――So that’s the reason.]

Roswaal, who had complained about Beatrice’s recklessness, closed his yellow eye at what he was told instead of an apology.

The current interaction with the undead gave Beatrice some kind of certainty. It seemed that Roswaal understood this in a few words, but unfortunately, Garfiel had no clue what it meant.

Garfiel: [Oi, I don’t understand at all! Explain it in a way that even Emilia-sama could understand!]

Beatrice: [Essentially, Emilia and Garfiel are about the same in terms of their comprehension, in fact. ――Now we know the structure of the zombies‘ bodies and the mechanism behind it, I suppose.]

Garfiel: [Like I asked, what the hell does that mean?]

Garfiel asked the question with gnashed teeth.

Garfiel was already aware of the existence of Restoration Magic. It was a magic that could restore damaged objects, and he heard that the best users could even restore burned books from ashes.

However, it was said that there were few users, and that there were also noticeable shortcomings, such as the need for exquisite magical precision and the tendency for restored items to deteriorate in quality.

And above all, life could never be restored. ――This was not restoration nor repair, but the forbidden realm of something like the Sacrament of the Immortal King that had been brought up a few times already.

Roswaal: [Teacher chose mana for her vessels, and I chose blood for mine. ――But, this enemy chose earth for their vessels, are they not bothered if the contents overflow?]

Roswaal, covering his mouth, spoke of the revelation that Beatrice had given him.

Even then, Garfiel’s understanding fell short of theirs, but he could intuit that it was a path that would lead to answers that were terribly disturbing and unpleasant even for Garfiel.

Disregarding Garfiel, Roswaal looked at Beatrice with a grim expression on his face.

Roswaal: [Beatrice, this isn’t the Sacrament of the Immortal King, right?]

Beatrice: [...The basis is the same, but the approach is different, in fact. For the Sacrament of the Immortal King, the vessel comes first, and the soul second, I suppose. However, as for these zombies...]

Roswaal: [The soul comes first, and the vessel after. ――The body changes form to suit the soul.]

At Roswaal’s comment, Beatrice nodded deeply.

As usual, Garfiel could not understand the crucial part of the exchange between the two. Garfiel, holding back his bitterness, suddenly could not believe his eyes.

Garfiel: [――――]

Roswaal was there with an expression that reflected even more anguish on his face than Garfiel did.

He had never imagined he could have this contorted expression on his face. ――Nay, Garfiel had hoped to punch him in the stomach someday, wanting to bring about an anguished face, but for a reason unrelated to Garfiel’s desire, Roswaal was in agony.

With that agony reflected in his eyes, Roswaal opened his mouth.

Roswaal: [——I think I might know who this “enemy” is.]

Garfiel: [—— Eh, for real?! Then...]

Roswaal: [But, wait. That can’t be. After all, by my hand, she was...]

Gone was the composure he had just prior, and Roswaal’s voice was filled with hesitation and doubt.

At his demeanor of not stating things clearly, Garfiel blinked and then immediately bared his teeth. If it had been Garfiel himself, it was possible that some absurd idea would have popped up.

However, it was Roswaal, not Garfiel, who had come up with the thought.

Garfiel: [Bastard, this ain’t the time to be utterin’ such weakness.]

Roswaal: [————]

Beatrice: [Roswaal, clarify one thing, in fact.]

Garfiel leaned forward as if wanting to grab Roswaal by the collar. However, before his hand could stretch out in aggression, Beatrice’s voice struck the silent Roswaal.

Beatrice fixed her eyes on Roswaal, and after waiting for him to meet her gaze,

Beatrice: [The cause of your hesitation, is it related to Mother, I suppose?]

Roswaal: [...Am I that easy to read?]

Beatrice: [Only matters related to Mother can upset you so much, in fact. Also, more recently, about Ram, I suppose.]

Roswaal: [I’m confident I’d be overcome by emotions if something happened to you as well.]

With that, Roswaal, who had responded with a wry smile, closed his eyes firmly and tightened his cheeks. Then, having pushed aside the hesitation and weakness from before, he opened his eyes and nodded.

Roswaal: [Beatrice’s observation is correct. The mechanism by which the zombies are revived without the original corpse is an application of Restoration Magic. The prerequisite for this is the invocation of the soul, which is an application of the Sacrament of the Immortal King.]

Beatrice: [Both Restoration Magic and the Sacrament of the Immortal King aren’t the kind of techniques that can be used immediately upon understanding the theory, in fact. To begin with, given the feat of combining such fundamentally different types of magic, it can’t be said that there are even a handful of geniuses who can do it, I suppose. Those who could do it would be...]

Roswaal: [——Of Teacher’s lineage. However, it cannot be Teacher. Therefore...]

The “teacher” that Roswaal spoke of and the “mother” that Beatrice spoke of were the same person, and by no means could it be said that that person was completely unrelated to Garfiel.

Although it could be confusing because there were multiple people with the same name, when he heard that the name of that Witch was involved, Garfiel immediately understood.

A single word from Beatrice had cut through Roswaal’s agony, and his attitude of trying to admit what he did not want to admit might have also played a role in Garfiel’s understanding.

However——,

Mizelda: [——What a boorish gaze.]

Suddenly, Mizelda murmured in a low voice.

Because it was about the intricacies of magic, Mizelda, who probably could not keep up with the conversation between Roswaal and Beatrice any more than Garfiel, had given up on understanding the cause of Roswaal’s agony and was focusing solely on attacking the undead.

The woman had stopped in her tracks, and she was looking upwards with her fierce eyes narrowed in aggression.

Garfiel also looked towards the target of the hunter’s piercing gaze and choked up. Not only Garfiel, but Beatrice and Roswaal as well.

However, the reason behind the reactions from those three were slightly different.

For Garfiel, it was because he saw a familiar figure that should not have been there.

For Beatrice and Roswaal, it appeared that a more negative feeling was the reason.

——In the night sky, with long, fluttering pink hair, was a girl clad in black.

Her face was the same as the being Garfiel had admired ever since he could remember; however, with cold eyes that had never been directed at Garfiel, she was looking down at him.

Girl: [This was not desired, but implementation was successful... Seemingly, this world has recognized my existence as its own life.]

The familiar face murmured in a familiar voice, gently tracing the crack that ran through her face with her hand and glaring at Garfiel and the others through her golden irises.

In response, Roswaal swallowed his saliva with an audible gulp and opened his mouth.

Roswaal: [So, you were alive... Sphinx.]

Sphinx: [No, I am dead. ——Observation: Required.]

With an indifferent voice as if teasing, the girl with an appearance that looked exactly like Ryuzu, Garfiel’s grandmother——The Witch, Sphinx, with the face of an undead, declared so.