1
It was hopeless. Yuliana looked in vain for a way to reach her friend, but none could be found. All the exits in the room had been sealed, save for the windows, which opened up to a dive of at least one hundred and fifty feet, the cold streets below. The sun had set long ago, making way for the small, pale moons peeking through the scattered clouds. To summon Aiwesh, Yuliana would have to offer her own spirit for fuel—but there was no way his majesty would let her go through with the ritual.
Besides, even if she could somehow call the Divine spirit, there were three other Lords behind the wall...There was no guarantee that the situation could be overturned. No, it being nighttime, Aiwesh’s Authority was sealed, bringing her to a massive disadvantage. In the worst case, even that noble spirit who had freed Yuliana from her castle would be vanquished.
It was hopeless.
Izumi was left to face opponents way beyond her caliber all alone, while Yuliana was unable to do anything for her.
It was completely hopeless.
With no other choice, she turned to the Emperor.
“Tell them to stop!” she desperately pleaded. “Why are you doing this!?”
“You’ve stopped thinking, your highness,” the man answered with infuriating calmness. “I understand you’re panicking, but ‘why’ should be obvious at this point. Do I even need to spell it?”
Gesturing towards the table and the contract on it, he continued,
“If you pledge your allegiance by signing the geas, I will dismiss the Lords. Refuse, and your friend will perish. The situation is quite generic in its simplicity.”
Yuliana clenched her teeth.
Her political alignment—for the life of someone close to her.
The same choice she had faced two days ago.
By this point, there was no need to go over what it meant.
Yuliana loved her country and her people. She even loved the father, who had shown little love for her in return. And yet—after coming this far, she had found other people whose deaths were just as unbearable for her as an idea.
Oathbound or not, Yuliana was only one woman. The future of these lands would not depend on her efforts alone. Whichever side she took should have mattered little in the grand scheme of things. What mattered more were the lives right in front of her now, asking to be saved.
There was something she could do.
So why hesitate?
Yuliana strode to the table with quick steps and picked up the fountain pen next to the geas scroll. But again, her hand hesitated.
All of this...It keeps happening because of me. Because of me, people close to me are hunted and threatened...Is deciding which of my loved ones will die and how all I may choose? If I give in on this today, what will I have to surrender tomorrow? Where will it end? Will it ever end…?
She glanced at the Emperor.
At his lifeless, lightless eyes.
The eyes of a man, who has given up his morality, his ideals, his values, even his heart, for the sake of the mission. Would she end up with that same, resigned look on her face?
“No one needs to die,” he told her.
“No,” Yuliana replied. Unsure of why. She hadn’t intended to say anything. But somewhere within her, her own heart was urging her to move. “I see now. Someone does need to die. Or it will never end.”
She suddenly threw away the pen and seized the table. It was short, only about waist-high, but with a stone cover that made it quite heavy. Still, with a bit of effort, the princess was able to pick it up and ran at the window with it.
“Wait! What are you doing!?” the Emperor exclaimed, astonished.
The princess threw the table through the window.
Countless scattered, diamond-like pieces of glass glittered in the moonlight as they fell, leaving a gaping hole, through which the chilling night wind blew.
Holding onto the window frame, Yuliana leaned her upper body outside and looked down.
Seen from above like this, the pavement looked to be gut-wrenchingly far away, the pedestrians like insects. Over one hundred and fifty feet—a distance over which a trainee could barely throw a spear. Certainly, if she were to fall from here, her end would not be beautiful. As if to give a foretaste of that fate, the table she had thrown hit the pavement and became pulverized with a heavy bang.
“Have you gone mad!?” the Emperor shouted at her from behind. “Get away from there! You’ll die!”
Yuliana shook her head. She suddenly felt oddly sober and calm. Resolute.
“You will never threaten those I love again, because of me.”
All she had to do was let go. She looked at her pale hand, the slim fingers holding onto the wooden frame. That light contact was all that preserved her life now. With only such a simple gesture, her earthly journey would come to an end.
Forgive me, my Lord. Forgive me, master. Forgive me...Izumi.
——“NO!”
The Emperor’s sudden shout interrupted her resolve.
The sovereign’s prior composure was gone. His face pale as a sheet, he stared at the princess in the clutches of helpless terror. Then, quickly turning around, he leaped a step and caught the geas scroll left lying on the floor. Swiping it up, he faced Yuliana again, as if to make sure she was watching, and quickly, without hesitation—tore the contract to tiny shreds.
“What…?” Astonished, Yuliana watched him destroy the all-important document, the tiny scraps of which he now hurriedly wiped from his hands, as if they were something filthy. She couldn’t understand. If she didn’t agree to play along with his intentions, then wasn’t death what he had planned for her all along?
“Why…?”
The Emperor gave her no answer.
Looking downcast he stood, unable to meet the princess’s eyes, like someone who has gambled everything, and then lost everything.
2
“What is the meaning of this?” Lord Yubilea demanded an answer in an angry tone. “Did you honestly think I needed you to butt in? Know your place, mortal!”
Izumi glanced at Bramms, whose large hands rested on the edge of his gigantic shield. The fight had suddenly become two-on-one, with the lone earthling versus a Divine spirit and a famous champion for a side course. While Izumi herself was armed only with the freshly learned, strange magic, and a paper knife.
However, the opposing front didn’t appear united.
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t bear to follow this from the sidelines any longer,” Bramms responded with a dry cough. “Even though I count myself among his majesty’s loyal subjects, I find that the things that have transpired tonight violate heavily against my conscience.”
“The Hel are you blabbering about?” Yubilea lashed back at him. “Nobody asked for your opinion, you dumb mutt!”
“What a troublesome thing you are,” Bramms sighed. “What I’m saying is, in plain words, that I want you to dismantle your vile trap at once and leave this place.”
—“Eh?”
—“What?”
Both Izumi and Yubilea looked stunned by the man’s words.
“I should be his majesty’s shield, first and foremost,” Bramms explained in a slightly offended tone. “The fact that he thought to rely on otherworldly beings instead only goes to show that his assessment of my abilities is that poor. I cannot stand by while my honor is being slighted. I and I alone should be this woman’s opponent tonight.”
“Just play your part, monkey boy, and stop complicating things!” the red spirit flared.
“Should you refuse,” Bramms ignored the Divine’s protests and continued, “then you leave me with no choice but to take this woman’s side in a battle against you. I already surmised that it is only after I drive you foul demons away that I may have the duel that is rightfully mine.”
—“That is treason you speak of, human,” Lord Gwanlyn’s shape emerged through a nearby wall and said, apparently having heard the conversation.
But even the appearance of another grand spirit didn’t intimidate the hero.
“If his majesty betrays my honor by favoring blasphemous powers over his own servants, then, in my opinion, I am merely returning the favor by denying them.”
“Stop trying to think, muscle brain!” Yubilea cried. “It doesn’t suit you!”
“All this changes is that you will die here together with the woman,” Gwanlyn told the man. “Reconsider.”
“I wonder about that,” Bramms retorted.
“What?”
“Lord Cinithlea cannot fight effectively while Waramoti has her Authority. Not to mention, her type is ill-suited for combat. That makes our situation, in reality, two-on-two. Except, my Lord Gwanlyn, you cannot use your powers directly against those of a race that are not subservient to your creator. Were you to even try, the following penalty would surely mean your demise in your already weakened state. All you may do is indirect interference—while against my shield, your skills with crafting stone are quite meaningless. This only leaves Lord Yubilea as our opponent. And, as capable as she may be, with both myself and this lady as her opponents, I am confident we can hold her at bay for as long as is necessary. Which, I am sure, would not be a terribly pleasant experience for her. So how shall it be? Of course, if you disagree with what I’ve said, then I don’t mind taking you on, all at once—by myself if necessary.”
“……..”
“…...”
“…Shit.” Yubilea swore.
It seemed Bramms was not very stupid, after all.
Frowning, Izumi looked at the eccentric characters around her. How was the situation going to develop from here? Whatever should happen, she couldn’t afford to waste time waiting for it, while the princess needed her help. As helpful as the distraction was, she didn’t intend to fight any one of them.
Finally, the pale spirit broke the stalemate.
“...We pull back,” Gwanlyn muttered and turned to leave.
“Are you kidding me?” Yubilea shrieked. “The Emperor’s orders aside, I can’t let these apes get away with what they’ve done to me! After how much they’ve ridiculed me, I can’t rest until I tear them all to pieces!”
“Stop it,” Gwanlyn scolded the fiery Divine. “Our time is already past. Become any more involved in the mortals’ affairs, and you won’t escape with your soul intact. And if you’re not there in the next world...I’d be troubled.”
“...”
With a scowl, Yubilea stopped arguing back. The bright flames veiling her slender limbs faded, and she turned to follow after her kindred.
“Not like there’s a future for any of us,” she spitefully spat.
Giving Izumi one last bitter glare, the Divine Lord disappeared in a quick flash, her companion following shortly behind.
3
Slowly, Yuliana pulled herself away from the broken window gap. What was going on? The Emperor had gone to such lengths to arrange this elaborate setup, to force Yuliana to sign the geas, only to whimsically throw it all away. Why was he suddenly so concerned with the princess’s safety? What went through his mind? What was an act and what was his true self, she couldn’t even begin to tell them apart.
The Emperor himself offered no answers.
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As if the man had turned to stone, he stood amid the shreds of the contract, old and lost, and so he remained, until suddenly, the tall, blue-haired woman from before appeared standing next to him.
“Cinithlea…?” the Emperor stirred from his depression.
“It appears that our bluff tonight has been called,” the grand spirit said with a soft smile, not looking particularly remorseful over the fact. “Come now, mortals. Securing you a path out of this place shall be my last service to you.”
“Just leave me,” the man replied. “It’s over. Does it matter how I face my end? Better sooner rather than later.”
“I believe it does matter,” Cinithlea answered him. “I may have lived for many eons, but it was only recently that I learned this valuable lesson. Nothing is infinite, not even the cosmos itself. For all things, there exists a definite end. That idea, formerly strange to us, sent even us Divines to wallow in misery and disgrace. Why then live at all, if we are destined to lose all we hold dear one day, even the purpose for which we were born? But, perhaps it is not such a sorry thing, after all? If there is no way to overturn fate, then surely it is in our final moments that our life’s true meaning will be made known. Not in the tallied sum of our actions, but in the manner of our passing. Perhaps what we thought of as the purpose of all was, in fact, only ever preparation for that single instance, where we shall display the growth we went through on our journey. With what manner of a heart do we embrace judgment as it is passed onto us—surely that last stand is what will define us all alike, were we mortal or divine.”
“...So the timing of that moment isn’t something we should choose for ourselves?”
“One should not choose demise as his purpose; it is the purpose he stands for and believes in that shall choose its method for him. After all, it is not for death that we live for, as it may be the fact that we were once here.”
“I see...”
“In your heart, are you already finished, human?”
The Emperor glanced at the princess.
“No...” he finally said. “My heart tells me that I have not gone far enough yet.”
“Then, we shall leave here together, to face our final destination. You as well, Chalice of White.” The spirit extended her hand to Yuliana. “It is not with warm feelings that I aid the host of my nemesis, but such is the role I have taken upon myself. Come, child, and let us be off. For I know not how long I can guarantee your safety in this place.”
The princess hesitated.
“Izumi...What happened to Izumi?” she asked, trembling. “Did you kill her?”
“We do not have the right to decide the fate of your kind,” Cinithlea answered. “Her life is in the hands of the Grand Shield now.”
4
The two spirits had vanished and silence returned. Only a few scattered flames were left here and there on the floor, to give light to the unnaturally isolated room, and prove that what happened was not a dream. Izumi immediately turned to leave through the opening Bramms had created, to go look for Yuliana. Perhaps she could find a way around to the other side downstairs. But she had barely taken a step when a flash of metal beside her captured her attention.
The greatshield of Bramms suddenly bashed at her. That wide wall neared her with the velocity of a truck. Fortunately, the rune of acceleration remained active and Izumi saw it coming. Nimbly jumping up, she received the impact with her feet and was propelled more or less safely across the room in a wide arc.
“You...” Regaining her footing, Izumi glared at the man responsible for the sneak attack.
Normally, it would be unthinkable that such a gargantuan tool could ever be employed in a “sneaky” fashion, but that was hardly the most absurd part of it.
By the impact, Izumi could tell—her earlier analysis of the weapon had been mistaken.
It wasn’t simple wood coated with a layer of metal. That shield was in its entirety shaped of a single, solid block of orichalcum, and nothing else. As such, it should have been impossibly heavy to hold. Yet, the man named Bramms handled his gigantic armament with the lightness of a mere buckler—and with only one arm.
Sure enough, either the weapon was not entirely what it seemed.
Or else, his frame itself was far beyond mortal limits.
The idea that he could have fought the Divines, even by himself, was not far-fetched at all. But in their absence, the would-be allies had gone back to being enemies.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Bramms told Izumi. “I never expected you to fall by an attack of this level, and rightfully so, apparently. And you being in such a hurry to forget about me hurt my pride just a little. Consider us even now, after that no less treacherous attack by which you overwhelmed me the other day.”
“For a poster boy, you can sure hold a grudge,” Izumi replied. “Or would you call that being competitive instead? No matter how you make it sound like fair play, I’d be flat as a pancake now, if I hadn’t kept my guard up.”
“Speaking of fair play, you never showed magical ability on our first encounter. Were you hiding the true extent of your skill at the time, or was that power something you obtained afterwards? Does that mean a magician is backing you in the capital? I took you for a stray sword at first, but were you an assassin of the Circle all along? If so, you did a marvelous job at deceiving us. Shivgried and Raleigh fell by your hand, didn’t they? The good will I showed you on our first meeting has cost people’s lives, and I’m not about to forgive you for that.”
“Your good will? You guard a dictator who plays with people like they’re bootleg muppets and will do anything from murder down to get his way. So how about you stop with the moral high ground act?”
Bramms shifted uncomfortably.
“...It is true that I have some misgivings about the state our nation is in...But mindless killing is not the answer to our problems. Can’t be. If we went down that path, we’d be no better than the evil we’re trying to defeat. It is by standing near the Throne that I can best help the common people. If I see his majesty doing something I can’t agree with, then I will work to change his mind and come up with alternatives. That should be our goal. So long as people live, they have the option to change, even if they are a tyrant. You take that away by killing them. That’s all there is to it.”
“What are you, Captain America!?” Izumi retorted. “Does that mean you’re not going to kill me?”
“You’re an outlaw with heavy, repeated charges against you,” Bramms answered, “but if you surrender quietly and promise to cooperate in unraveling the conspiracy against his majesty, I will ensure that no harm comes to you.”
“Let me think about that for a moment—no.”
Izumi actually did give it a thought but concluded that there was no real choice before the sentence was finished. In response, the shield hero gave a heavy sigh.
“You know, you’re unexpectedly childish for your age...”
“What?” Izumi gasped. “DON’T BRING UP MY AGE! Oh my God! That’s it, I’m going to beat you up until you cry uncle!”
Brandishing her tiny dagger, Izumi readied herself for battle once more.
“That’s right,” Bramms said, gripping the corner of his shield. “To be honest, I hoped it would come to this. It took four days of work for the blacksmiths to weld my shield back together after you cleaved it. For all this time, one thought has nagged me without rest. I have to know—which one of us would prevail in a fight with no holds barred?”
“So you totally planned to kill me all along!? Some ‘hero’!”
Like that, the time for action had come once again.
It was not a fight she wanted, but since there was no way around it either, Izumi put her mind to it. Having witnessed the champion’s quick moves before, Izumi judged that seizing the initiative in this battle was vital. She had to make use of her superior mobility and quickly take down the enemy before he could turn it into a contest of endurance.
Quickly reaching this conclusion, Izumi determined to take the first move.
Such had been her intention. But there her plans fell flat.
Before Izumi could move a finger, she was already under attack.
In one quick leap, as if gliding over the floor, Bramms crossed the distance between them and swung down his shield. Yes, the enormous orihalcum disc that should have taken three men to even raise from the ground—he lifted it and dragged it back down in an impossibly quick arc, as if it were a mere frisbee.
Izumi had to give up on attacking and evade.
The greatshield swooped past her and dug into the marble floor, like a bolt of lightning. The whole room shook under the weight of the strike, hinting at unspeakable forces. By all means, the metal circle should have been left pinned in the stone, impossible to be removed—but without a moment’s delay, Bramms tore it off and struck again with a wide sideways swing.
Izumi ducked, the deadly mass slicing over her head. She straightened herself to exploit the resulting opening, only to discover there was no opening. The man spun around his heels with the swiftness of a cyclone, and an identical horizontal swing followed immediately after the first. No, if possible, even stronger and faster.
“Kh...!” Izumi threw herself backward onto the floor to evade again. She rolled around to get some distance—but Bramms allowed her none. Turning around for the third time while stepping on, he changed the angle of the shield, now throwing a rising cut at the woman. Izumi twisted her torso, the shield flying past her right shoulder and thigh. The mere air that the great weapon forced out of its way felt like a hammer as it brushed against her skin, tearing at her skirt.
What’s going on!? Is he Hercules or what!?
Izumi’s movements were continuously accelerated by Sifl, to thrice the normal speed, yet Bramms could not only keep up with her, he definitely controlled the flow of the fight. The relentless flood of precise, murderous attacks forced her to keep evading and remain on the defensive, with no way to strike back.
The man’s strength and speed were clearly beyond those of an average person. The gap between what should have been possible for a human being and the reality of it was impossibly wide.
But how? Izumi couldn’t understand.
Was it some strange magic at work? Or was the strength of the humans of this world, if cultivated to the extreme, simply that much greater than that of the people of Earth?
That can’t be. If humans could truly get that strong, wouldn’t they control the whole world by now? Instead, they’re considered the weakest of the races. Does that mean there’s again some trick to his power...?
Izumi tried to analyze her opponent and uncover the source of his strength, but, needless to even say, it was easier said than done in the heat of the moment.
It was a fight very unlike those with Yubilea or Waramoti, who had the safety of invulnerability and so didn’t take their enemy very seriously. Neither did Bramms exhibit the playfulness of a predator toying with his victim. He simply gave his all in the fight for his life, holding nothing back. He bet on his strengths, covered for his weaknesses, and his vicious attacks showed no mercy. Like a true sportsman, he only played to win, and each of his moves carried the intent to kill.
If only Izumi had her sword, she might have been able to strike back…
“Gram.”
Using the rune of power to add strength to her legs, Izumi jumped back.
As expected, Bramms wasn’t about to give her the room to recover but quickly chased after her. As soon as her feet reached the floor again, she cast the dagger from her hand, aiming at his throat. Like a dart, the steel spike shot across the air, her magically enhanced strength behind it—but became deflected by the vast shield.
“Haaaa—!”
Letting out a roar, Bramms put more strength into his legs and placed the shield before him, in an apparent attempt to crush Izumi against the marble wall.
Pouring the rune’s energy into her legs, Izumi jumped up and back, kicked off the wall to increase her altitude and vaulted over the charging enemy. With the momentum of a juggernaut, Bramms tore straight through two feet of stone.
Halting after his missed attack, her warrior swiftly turned and cut backward with the edge of the shield. His diagonal swing was aimed not at Izumi—but at the barrier of stone he had just pierced. The orichalcum shield tore marble with unsettling hunger, and the force of the strike carried on, cracking the wall all the way to the upper left corner. Loosened in this uneven manner, a quarter of the wall broke off from the ceiling and started to tip inward.
Towards where Izumi was standing.
“Are you kidding me—!?”
The wall about to crash on her, Izumi dashed left to get out of the way. Her magically enhanced speed allowed her to reach the safe zone with a slight margin, but that hardly put her out of harm’s way. As it fell, the portion of the wall collided with the opposing side in the tightly divided room. The other wall failed to support the added weight but caved in, then crashed onto the next behind it, splitting into smaller fragments, resulting in a domino effect of tremendous forces.
The whole cathedral shook under the piling tons of stone.
As expected, the floor couldn’t endure the shifting of masses it was never designed to bear, but gave in next.
Accompanied by a loud bang, the central floor of the hall cracked and collapsed. Not in an orderly manner, bit by bit, but all at once, creating an immense cavity and pulling the other walls and parts of the ceiling along with it. Again, Izumi barely escaped death, jumping up from the falling plate and catching a hold on the edge of the broken flooring, near where the windows had once been.
Then, as the avalanche of stone hit the floor below, another cataclysmic quake shook the building, nearly making Izumi’s hold slip. She looked down to see the massive floor plates and blocks of stone larger than cars hit the level roughly forty feet below.
And, as the Cathedral kept shaking, the lighter marble plates on the windows started to crumble and fall off as well. There were soon chunks of stone, with shards of glass mixed in, raining down all around Izumi. She could only hope and pray that none would hit her while she hung suspended in midair.
“What’s up with that guy!?” she bemoaned, climbing up with frantic effort, as the worst had passed. “Learn some restraint…!”
How to even begin to fight against such an absurd foe, now unarmed?
The arc’s runes were mainly supportive in nature, and it was doubtful that Bramms was going to sit obediently still and let her write any on his body.
What else could she do? Throw rocks at him? No, looking at this cataclysmic devastation, any thought of fighting back was ridiculous.
As the floor had collapsed, clearing most of the room, Izumi could see that there was no longer anyone on the other side. Both Yuliana and the Emperor were gone, together with the Divines.
In other words, continuing this absurd fight was altogether meaningless.
But simply leaving as well proved difficult.
Barely had Izumi gotten back up to her feet to catch her breath, when the remaining part of the wall near her was blown in. The wide, cruel-looking face engraved on the ancient shield emerged through the rubble, pressing at her with unyielding tenacity.
Izumi froze, her senses bombarding her brain with warning messages.
In addition to the charging warrior, there was the secondary threat of the countless shards of stone his violent strike had broken off and scattered. A lot of them were large enough to cause serious injuries on the soft human body, but even a smaller cut could prove dangerous to Izumi, whose natural healing faculties were stunted by the sap of the forbidden tree.
Gram alone couldn’t protect her.
Even with Sifl, she couldn’t evade such a wide area barrage.
There was only one way——
As Izumi was busy weathering the initial hail of debris, Bramms closed in, held out his shield and blew the woman away with a brutal backhand bash. The strike connected. He felt the impact against the shield. In an instant, the assassin’s frail figure was struck away, thrown through the tall window, and out of the building.
With that, the fight had to be over. Regardless of her magically enhanced speed, so long as he could get one solid hit in, she wasn’t going to endure it. No one possibly could. Moreover, the fall waiting outside was fatal.
The conclusion was somewhat anticlimactic. Bramms felt no joy over this quick victory, on the contrary, but at least he had proved that his fighting strength was superior to that of the assassin beyond any reasonable doubt.
Doubt?
Had there ever been any?
No human of the Empire could contest the hero’s might. Except maybe for that man, the man favored by the Divines. The Emperor had been foolish to ever assume otherwise...
“Hm?”
Approaching the broken window to check the corpse, the hero of the shield let out a sound of surprise.
He had concluded the battle too soon.
Outside the Cathedral building stood a row of bulky buttresses with airy arcs to support the main building. Their purpose was more aesthetic than practical, but it seemed the assassin had landed on one of those structures, and so avoided the fall.
That fact alone shouldn’t have changed anything.
After taking a hit from the shield, and falling onto the stone-made buttress, any ordinary human should have been no less lifeless than had she thrown herself down from the rooftop.
And yet—the enemy was standing.
Standing, alive and conscious.
What’s more, her appearance had radically changed.
The woman’s formerly pale skin looked nearly black in the night, her light brown hair fluttering now pale ashen gray in the cool breeze.
“So you were only ever a monster wearing the guise of a maid?” Bramms grimly remarked. “It seems I made a mistake to treat you the same as myself—daemon!”