Episode 4

The light covering their vision vanished. Looking around, she realized the scenery had changed from just moments before. She felt relieved that the teleportation had succeeded safely.

“It looks like there’s no one around… More importantly, from here on—are you okay!?”

Zeke dropped to one knee and coughed up blood violently. It was not only from his mouth. Looking closely, blood was pouring from all over his body. The sheer amount of bleeding looked as though he had been slashed apart by something. — At this rate, his life was in danger.

“What the hell is this…?”

Other than the damage from Selen and the others’ Unison Link, he should not have taken any serious damage. At least, that was how Eris understood it, and his blown-off arm had been treated with holy arts. Yet red flowers were blooming at Zeke’s feet.

“…To the carriage, move.”

“The carriage?… I see.”

Sure enough, where Zeke was looking, there was a carriage. The horses were already harnessed, and it looked like it could be set in motion immediately.

“Bear with it a little. I’ll get you to the carriage.”

Supporting Zeke as she moved him to the carriage, Eris found his body frighteningly light despite the difference in their builds. His life felt faint and insubstantial, making her even more anxious.

(I have to at least stop the bleeding quickly…)

They reached the carriage and laid Zeke down. His breathing was ragged, and his complexion kept worsening by the second.

Eris treated him with healing magic, but the effect was minimal. Compared to the amount of recovery needed, the damage he had taken was far greater. It had exceeded the level healing magic could handle.

“I’m absolutely going to save you. If healing magic isn’t enough, then I’ll just keep casting it again and again.”

Eris herself had very little mana left. The battle against Pariaach was catching up with her now.

(No excuses. Do what I can right now.)

Eris poured all her strength into using healing magic so it would spread throughout his entire body. Normally she should have prioritized the treatment, but every wound was too deep for that to be possible.

“…Use that.”

“What? A box…?”

Where Zeke indicated with his eyes, there was a wooden box under the seat. When she pulled out the box, which had a fair amount of size and weight to it, and checked inside, she found it packed with supplies.

“Potions and mana potions. And they’re all top-grade, too…”

Not just potions, but ointments, bandages, water, preserved food, and even spare clothing such as cloaks had all been prepared inside. Faced with the sheer amount of supplies, enough to make it look like someone was heading out on a long expedition, she almost forgot the emergency and was simply astonished.

“Quit stalling… hand it over.”

“Drink it slowly. If you get the dosage wrong, it can do harm too…”

Potions were not convenient miracle drugs that healed the body no matter what. If they were not chosen and used according to the severity of the injury, they would instead burden the body. The stronger the effect, the more pronounced the side effects became.

Ignoring Eris’s instructions, Zeke splashed the potion directly over his body. Smoke rose from the wounds with a sizzling sound.

“!? Hey, what are you doing!?”

“Are you an idiot? I don’t have time… to be leisurely about this.”

Zeke snatched the potion Eris was holding. He poured it over his wounds the same way, then chugged the remaining half in one gulp. It was completely reckless.

“Next… mana…”

“Why are you going this far—”

His wounds began closing at a rapid pace. They were healing, but that did not mean there was no pain. Grimacing, Zeke let out low groans of agony.

(It’s not just his body that hurts. His heart is wounded the same way.)

Because of his overwhelming power and arrogant attitude, Eris had assumed Zeke was strong in spirit as well. But seeing him now, she immediately understood how wrong that assumption had been. Someone who knew nothing of the situation might even mistake him for an entirely different person.

“Here, a mana potion. …These wounds aren’t normal. What is this?”

“…Life Convert. It draws out mana that’s lacking. …You have no need to understand it.”

“…That’s difficult. I should’ve studied more under Glanz-san.”

Gathering mana from the atmosphere, converting what mana was lacking. She could not understand it well, but she knew it was a technique far beyond ordinary people. — And especially the latter must come with a corresponding risk.

(Even if I tried to stop you, you wouldn’t stop, would you? …You use holy arts, wear that weird armor, and even brought out some kind of flame demon? It’s all completely absurd.)

In truth, she wanted to ask him much more. About the holy arts, about Lagias… and about Zeke himself.

But for now, it was fine. She had already made up her mind. She would be of help to Zeke. She could wait until the day he chose to tell her.

“If you mean to turn back, now is the time. …Right now, some excuse or another could still work.”

Zeke forced out the words bit by bit. His complexion was still deathly pale.

“Now that the knight order… has set its sights on me… I’m a criminal guilty of killing the Sword Saint.”

“…”

“This isn’t only your problem. Depending on how things go… I can’t say what’ll happen to Schtruk (your father), either.”

His mouth was foul, but it was not an outright rejection. It was the utmost concern Zeke could show in his own way, thinking about her. Kindness that worried about others even while his own life was in danger. She found herself smiling at how hopelessly awkward he was. It was like looking at her own father.

(So you brought up Papa’s name to give me a way out. …You idiot. That only has the opposite effect.)

From what he had just said, it was clear that Zeke had not killed the Sword Saint. It would not have been strange for him to offer one explanation or two, and yet he did not. …He was truly unfair.

“If Papa were in the same situation, he would have done the same thing I am. And besides… if I ran away alone here, I’d get struck by lightning.”

“…Hmph. More useless baggage.”

After finishing the mana potion, Zeke closed his eyes.

“I… won’t be able to move for a while. Go wherever you like. But get away from the royal capital. And from… this place too.”

Perhaps he had been pushing himself too hard, because Zeke fell asleep as though dropping into unconsciousness. Was showing such a defenseless 모습 a sign of trust? The thought made her a little happy.

“A request from an A-rank adventurer. I’ll absolutely see it through.”

Even though she should have just said it was for Zeke’s sake, she ended up muttering that it was a request instead. Eris gave a bitter smile, realizing that in that regard she was no different from him.

Finis Domain. A territory known as the place where Masfelt Freak, hailed as the strongest swordsman in history, lived. There, the Sword Saint’s manor, once built quietly away from sight, had been blown away without a trace.

Two weeks had passed since Masfelt’s death.

“My grandpa was… the kind of man who lived only for the sword.”

Van stood before the gravestone that had been erected. Beside him was Atri, with Ciel and Selen standing a short distance away. Behind them, as though watching over them, stood Glanz.

“He taught me swordsmanship from when I was little. And even against a kid, he never showed any mercy.”

Masfelt’s death. The battle with Zeke. Eris’s departure. It had taken a great deal of time to accept the dizzying changes in the situation and their outcome.

“But he was kind. He was incredibly strong. He was someone I admired.”

After Zeke and the others vanished through teleportation magic, while everyone showed various reactions, Glanz had proposed that confirming Masfelt’s condition should take priority. He argued that it would also suit the knights who wanted to know the circumstances and that it would be more efficient to share information while moving.

“And yet… why did it turn out like this? Why did Grandpa have to—”

Seeing the devastated scene before them, everyone was left speechless. Everything had been destroyed by the meteor that had rained down, transformed into a frozen wasteland. Some of the knights, upon seeing the crater and the bitterly frozen earth, were so terrified that they fainted on the spot.

“Come on, somebody tell me. Did Grandpa do something wrong? Was there really any need to kill Grandpa, when he was already dying from illness with so little time left…?”

In the midst of a situation where everything had been reduced to nothing, Masfelt’s body had fortunately been found completely unharmed. Whether it was because it had been outside the range of the ritual magic, or by chance, or something else entirely.

Time had flown by in the examination of the scene, the inspection of the body, the questioning, and everything else.

“Say something. You people… know Zeke pretty well, don’t you?”

“…You know him too, Van.”

Grief, anger, shock, confusion. All sorts of emotions were mixed together in a tangled mess. The atmosphere around Van and the others was terrible.

(Eris-san’s departure is a major blow.)

Though she had a strong-willed personality, she was not reckless. She sometimes reined Van in, pulled Atri along, and kept the overall balance. It was almost ironic that the one person they most needed right now was Eris, who had supported the party not only with support magic but also mentally.

“Yeah, I know him. He’s the kind of guy who says power is everything and cuts down the weak like they have no value.”

Reacting to Van’s words, Selen spoke. The emotion in her voice was not agreement, but denial. A dangerous tension filled the air.

(From Van-san’s position, I cannot say his feelings are incomprehensible. But even so, there are too many strange points.)

The black shadow that had covered Masfelt’s wound just before his death. A material Glanz had never seen even once in all his life had rejected holy arts.

He had never heard of holy arts, called miracles of the gods, having no effect on the living. It was possible that the caster’s skill level had some influence, but as far as Glanz knew, Ciel was a top-class practitioner of holy arts. Which meant that black haze possessed a nature that rejected holy arts themselves.

A power that made recovery impossible if one was wounded. Their assumed enemy possessed such a thing.

(Masfelt-san’s wound. That had been cut by a sword. …A very high level of skill, truly at the level of a Sword Saint.)

Zeke did indeed use a sword as well. That was precisely why the knight order and Van suspected him. But Glanz thought otherwise. He could tell that wound had come from the slash of a swordsman of extraordinary skill, and at the same time, he felt intense hatred had been poured into it.

(If Zeke-san truly killed Masfelt-san, then why did he do things that seemed to care for him?)

The ritual magic that had been released so as to avoid Masfelt’s body. And the barrier that seemed to have been formed as though to protect Masfelt. It had disappeared by the time everyone arrived, but Glanz had certainly felt its lingering traces.

(Zeke-san’s killing intent toward us was real. But… he was not serious either.)

Zeke had shown strong feelings of resignation and despair. And even amidst that, he had been trying to gauge the strength of Glanz and the others. — As though he were entrusting something to them.

What did his own death and the fate of Lagias signify? Glanz knew nothing about Zeke.

(If he had wanted to, he should have been able to finish us immediately. Why didn’t he?)

There were simply too many things he did not understand.

Why Zeke could use the holy arts unique to royalty. The relationship between the royal family and Lagias. The reason Zeke sought strength.

(Even a sage once called the nation’s wisdom has many things he does not understand. What a pathetic story. …No, perhaps I simply never tried to understand.)

Perhaps they had made some enormous mistake.

He had never heard of bandit damage in Finis Domain.

There had been something off about the movements of the knight order.

There were only a handful of swordsmen at Sword Saint level in existence.

Why had Zeke erased everything but the Sword Saint?

(To begin with, why did we accept the battle with Zeke-san? To feel disgust merely upon hearing the name Lagias is too shortsighted.)

— Were their thoughts and actions being guided? And by whom? A strong sense of déjà vu. Something like this had happened before as well…

Glanz sank into the sea of his thoughts. This should have been the first time he had ever faced Masfelt’s death. And yet, what was this intense déjà vu he felt?

“That goes for you too, doesn’t it? About me and Grandpa. Don’t talk like you know everything when you don’t even know the Freak style.”

“Of course I don’t. I’m not interested.”

The consciousness that had sunk into the sea of thought surfaced again. Was it only because Van and Selen had not known each other long that seeing them argue felt so unusual?

“I want you not to misunderstand. I’m not from this country. Frankly, whether the Sword Saint died or not has nothing to do with me. …I only want to be of help to him.”

“Yeah, that’s right. We’re complete strangers. Doesn’t matter to me if you shoot him down. Including the fact that the one Zeke chose wasn’t you, but E-r-i-s.”

“That’s true. …And the one the Sword Saint chose was Zeke as well.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

Van put a hand to his weapon, and Selen touched her magic gun. Ciel stepped between them.

“Please stop! We’re in front of Masfelt-san. What’s gotten into you two? …This isn’t right.”

Ciel’s voice brought both of them back to their senses. Selen moved away from Van and put some distance between them.

“Everyone, may I have a moment?”

Glanz, who had been silently observing, addressed them all. Though their attitudes differed, each of them was listening with both eyes and ears. He felt relieved that, barely, they were still functioning as a party.

“What will all of you do from here?”

“What do you mean, what will we…”

Each of them fell silent. What had happened, and what did they themselves want to do now? They were troubled because they could not accept the present reality. — Then it was this old man’s role to guide those young people.

That is how it should be, is it not, Zeke-san?

“The truth behind Masfelt-san’s death. The meaning of Zeke-san’s actions. What the ‘Key’ is. What the ‘Guide’ is.”

Glanz’s words drew Van and the others in.

“We know nothing. There are far too many things we do not understand. — Then what should we do?”

“…Then we find out. If there’s something you want, you move for it yourself.”

Atri gave a firm nod. Seeing Atri, who in one sense had been the one he worried about most, Glanz felt reassured.

“That’s right, Atri-san. — We need to know. About the Kingdom of Diabalet. About the relationship between the royal family and Lagias.”

Zeke’s words and actions, Pariaach’s words, royalty and holy arts, the structure of the world. Glanz and the others needed to know all of it.

“I… want to avenge Grandpa.”

“…There’s something I want.”

“I want to know. Why Zeke-san looked so unbearably sad.”

“…Is this a declaration of resolve? My thoughts haven’t changed. I’ll be of help to him.”

There was still hesitation. Even so, he could feel the strong will to move forward. — Yes, young people should be like this.

“The fact that our paths crossed was surely not mere coincidence. Zeke-san knows something. By following the path he walked… we may be able to draw closer to the answer.”