09

“…Damn it. This hurts.”

Talidge woke with a pounding headache, washed down a powdered remedy said to work for hangovers with water, and drank coffee—something he normally never touched.

The nausea and lethargy gradually faded, and he looked around the room.

Several companions were missing. In the middle of the room, which felt wider than it had the night before, the remaining men had gathered, drinking as they held something up and stared at it.

‘These guys can really hold their liquor… more than me, even.’

Talidge was several times larger than them in build, yet seeing them still tipping their mugs after all that drinking last night made him give a wry smile as he walked over.

“…Ah, boss. Morning.”

“Yeah. Looks like you’re having fun?”

Talidge leaned in to peer at the pendant they had been holding up.

“Yes. This is the ‘holy relic’ we told you about. We just picked it up from the slums a little while ago.”

Talidge took the pendant and examined it closely.

“So this is a holy relic, huh. And what makes this thing so valuable?”

“Right. A holy relic is something that produces magic power inexhaustibly.”

“…Even so, it’ll run dry someday, won’t it?”

“No. It’s different from mana stones taken from monsters. Just like the name says—it produces it endlessly.”

Hearing that explanation, Talidge nodded, thinking how extraordinarily valuable such a thing must be in the magic-centered Santia Kingdom.

“I see. So if we hand this over to the Sobi house’s young master, everything settles, right? Good work. …But it looks like a few of the guys aren’t here. What happened?”

Laughing, the man bowed and said,

“We’re counting on our reward, boss.”

“Ah. Those guys said something about going to snatch a woman and headed out. One pretty one, and one girl they could sell to a slaver. …Just a little side money, really.”

Scratching his head with a grin, the man earned a casual warning from Talidge.

“Even with the young master’s protection, don’t overdo it.”

Talidge then held up the pendant, letting the light catch the small purple gem set at its center.

Unfamiliar with magic and mana, Talidge wondered whether this cheap-looking accessory could truly be worth so much—but he did feel something strange in the right hand holding it.

His swordsman’s intuition spoke to him.

A sense of unease, a thick, unpleasant feeling, seeped from the pendant.

“Well, whatever. This saves us. Find a suitable box to put it in.”

With that, Talidge set the pendant on the table surrounded by his men, returned to his chair, and considered taking another nap.

“Still, they’re late. …Don’t tell me those idiots are enjoying themselves without us?”

“Damn it. I told them not to pull that. When they get back, no alcohol for them for a while.”

As the men drank and complained, the door at the back burst open violently.

“About time! You’re all banned from drinking for a while! That’s your punishment for enjoying yourselves without permission!”

As Talidge and the others turned their gaze to the door, they saw not their familiar companions, but a strangely dressed man—and beside him, a beautiful woman and a girl who did not belong in such a grimy place.

“Is that so? Well, I don’t really mind. As long as I have coffee, I’m fine without alcohol.”

“Ains-sama, the coffee these men drink must be nothing but muddy water colored like coffee. Please drink the coffee I prepare instead.”

“……”

The carefree man—Ains—stood there, while Sophia at his side matched his light tone, though her hostility was unmistakable.

On Ains’s other side, Shiala silently glared at the men.

“Y-You! You’re the man and woman who picked a fight with that slum brat earlier! Why are you here!? Those guys were supposed to come here!”

Sensing something was wrong, the men tossed aside their mugs and grabbed their weapons.

“Oh, them? They’re not around anymore. Shiala here beside me—”

“…Those men? I burned them all to nothing. Not even ash remains!”

Ains gently placed his left hand on Shiala’s head.

“So there you have it. That’s good news, isn’t it? Should make your bar tab a little cheaper, at least.”

He smiled pleasantly as he spoke with biting sarcasm.

At the back of the room, Talidge shot to his feet.

“You—Ains!”

“You’re… from yesterday. Sorry, but I didn’t come here today to deal with you. Right now, I’m here as the sorcerer Ains Silvetas.”

“…A sorcerer. So you really weren’t a swordsman. But that doesn’t matter!”

Talidge grabbed the greatsword leaning beside his chair.

“I’ve got my true partner, the claymore! It won’t be like yesterday, Ains!!”

“…Haaah. You really are annoying.”

Talidge leveled his sword, while Ains looked at him with a sigh.

Beside them, Shiala cried out.

“Ah! That’s my mother’s pendant!”

“Hm? That’s the pendant you mentioned, Shiala? …I see. So that’s the holy relic.”

Ains studied the pendant Shiala pointed at, and in doing so gained a rough understanding of what a holy relic truly was.

“Alright. Shiala, focus on that.”

“I’ll get it back—no matter what!!”

Shiala declared fiercely.

“Hah! What can trash like you do!? I was thinking of selling you whole to a slaver, but fine. Even without limbs, as long as you’re alive, you can still be pig feed!”

The men set Shiala as their target and aimed their weapons at her.

Ignoring them, Shiala began to weave her sorcery. Her desire. The power to reclaim her mother’s keepsake, the power to kill these men—an ugly, black form born of her truest will.

A power for those who had nothing, for those who were only ever subjected to injustice, to resist and interfere with the law of the strong devouring the weak.

“Restriction Release—‘Black Flame Will (Volition)’!”