Even If The Light Is Lost (3)

In response to Azadine’s question, Seraph and Aleph answered as if they had been waiting for it. Seeing how fast they replied, they must have been desperate for that question to be asked.

“The Elders’ Council and the leader Hathir are trying to destroy this world. It’s textbook behavior for devil-like bastards who’ve lived too long and fallen into despair with the world.”

“By contrast, Lady Arael seeks to rule the world without destroying it. If one is going to rule the world anyway, doing so intact and safely—while keeping more slaves—yields far greater power, wouldn’t you say?”

“Ah, stop. That’s enough.”

Hearing them, Azadine felt he shouldn’t have asked.

‘I should’ve left them itching to talk instead of asking. I shouldn’t have asked. That answer wasn’t even good.’

Once he heard it, his curiosity evaporated and his interest faded.

“So Hathir and the Elders’ position is basically, ‘Even if we smash the world, it’s fine because there aren’t many Aragasa left to eat it anyway,’ while Arael is saying, ‘Let’s eat the world whole and intact,’ right? How is your thinking only at that level, seriously.”

“That’s a misunderstanding.”

Arael stepped in to correct Azadine’s words.

“On making Aragasa unoppressible by anyone—Hathir and I agree. But the leader Hathir feared that, because Aragasa’s population is small, in the end we would be absorbed and vanish into the Hubris people. He believes Aragasa cannot be preserved unless the Hubrisians are oppressed and their numbers reduced—thus this madness. I, on the other hand, would accept it even if the Aragasa people eventually disappear. What matters more is that we live peacefully now. If we fade away through assimilation in peace, I won’t reject it. That’s why I have no intention of killing the Hubrisians pointlessly.”

“If you want to use them as slaves, there’s no reason to kill them pointlessly.”

“Slavery isn’t that efficient. From the standpoint of motivation and human-resource management, it’s better to squeeze them while paying just enough for them to barely make a living if they work hard.”

“……”

“Azadine. I know you don’t trust me, but at the very least I have no intention, like Hathir, of destroying the world. I decline the Age of Jupiter. You know that well, don’t you? You want to doubt me because of the past where I tormented you, but if you lay a hand on your heart and think carefully, you’ll see there’s no alternative better than what I propose. In fact, before I made you an offer, weren’t you planning to gather the copies of the Heavenly Kings’ Grimoire alone and just stuff them into the thrones? Isn’t that so?”

“Yeah.”

Azadine raised both hands. Since one hand had flown off, perhaps it was better to say he raised both arms?

“I will. I’ll do it. Let’s do it.”

Thus, an alliance between Azadine and Arael was formed.

Though Arael’s faction had fallen, Arael was still powerful, and her subordinates’ loyalty remained unchanged.

Above all, they had a fair number of people, so supplies were plentiful.

“Alright then, let’s attach this arm, boss.”

Scott brought a hand that had been embalmed and coated with resin. Azadine didn’t know where he had obtained it, but it was a hand in quite good condition.

He set it into the gauntlet, tightened it up to Azadine’s elbow, and laid an enchantment on it, and the hand moved at Azadine’s will.

“Astonishing. It moves, sure—but my phantom-limb pain has eased, too. Is this necromancy?”

“No. This is a magitech device powered by colorless mana.”

“Hm?”

“In your case, boss, you infused your body with the white mana of the Heavenly Kings’ Grimoire, right? If we made it move with necromancy, I worried it would clash with black mana.”

“Impressive.”

Azadine admired Scott’s meticulousness.

Being a necromancer, Scott must have wanted to make it move with necromancy—but he had considered Azadine’s particular circumstances and made this purely for him, hadn’t he?

“So you’re skilled in general magic too?”

“Well, there’s that, and running it on colorless mana is good for relieving phantom-limb pain. You may feel itching or heat, but that…”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Shati cast a spell on Azadine. Small wounds regenerated, and the phantom-limb pain subsided.

Accepting their help, Azadine was impressed.

“Thank you.”

“So, boss… can I call it here?”

“……”

“If I go any deeper, I think I’ll die. I do like you, boss, but I’m a mercenary in the end.”

“I ask the same.”

Shati made a request of Azadine as well.

“I understand. You’ve both done more than enough.”

Azadine granted Scott and Shati leave to depart, rummaged through his saddlebag, and took out gold coins.

Because Scott and Shati had devoted much, he gave them without stint every gold coin he had on hand.

“This is your reward for all your dedication. I’m sorry I can’t give more.”

“Well, this much is unbelievably generous. That’s our boss.”

“Then may fortune favor you, Azadine.”

Taking the gold from Azadine, Shati let out a sigh.

“I hope we can see each other again alive.”

Who would have thought she’d say such a thing to Azadine.

Shati sincerely wished for Azadine’s victory and safety. So she decided to use the strongest magic she knew.

“Azadine. Your forehead.”

“……”

When Azadine silently offered his forehead, Shati cast a spell upon it.

“What kind of spell is that?”

Feeling an unfamiliar green-mana spell upon him, Azadine asked.

“A blessing. Just a little spell so we can meet again alive.”

Leaving those words, Shati stepped back.

“So, Shati—where will you go?”

Scott asked her.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll return to the Nagas.”

“Didn’t the Nagaraja who’s close with the boss say they would grant you immunity?”

“That was probably them doing me a favor, assuming I was fated to die alongside Azadine. The Nagas knew things would end up like this. I don’t know if they’ll forgive me if I come back alive.”

“Hmph. Do those Nagaraja feel no shame speaking out of both sides of their mouths? In that case, be a sellsword with me. It’s risky, but we can ship out toward the Southern Sea Archipelago, or hug the coast and head up to Tarasar. I hear Tarasar is recruiting mercenaries like mad right now.”

“Alright.”

Planning what lay ahead, Shati and Scott left.

“Are you fine letting them go? One’s a Naga and one’s an orc necromancer.”

Arael asked Azadine.

“They’re not the sort to betray us.”

“Hm. You trust them quite a bit.”

“Of course I do. In leader Hathir’s eyes I saw endless nihilism and resignation. Trying to make deals with someone like that is idiocy. Scott may be snarky, but he’s not an idiot.”

“Well, if you say so. How’s the hand?”

Swhip.

In that instant, an arrow sliced past Arael’s hair.

Azadine had swiftly loosed an arrow. Firing toward a person’s head was the height of discourtesy, but Arael didn’t so much as blink; she turned her head and tracked the arrow Azadine had shot with her eyes.

“Hmph….”

The arrow struck a bird flying far behind her.

It wasn’t an ordinary bird; apparently it had been one enchanted for observation, because the moment it was hit, it belched black smoke and fell.

It had been an accurate shot, yet Azadine’s expression was poor.

“As expected, it isn’t perfect. I tried to hit the eye, but I hit the wing.”

To most people, this would have been a skill worthy of praise, but Azadine wasn’t satisfied.

“The head or neck, maybe—but the wing? That’s serious.”

Arael agreed with Azadine’s assessment.

Even though Scott had made the hand, it couldn’t be better than the original body.

“Your hand was blown off—be grateful you can shoot at all. By the way, did you not have Grimslone’s club?”

“I heard the Blue Turban Party took it. I heard it straight from Amun-Jadek.”

“I see. That weapon’s specialized for subduing people without killing them….”

Azadine regretted the absence of the club. Even now, in such a situation, he didn’t want to kill his own people if he could help it.

“Then shall we get moving? Seems they’ve figured out our position over there.”

Was it because Azadine had shot down the bird?

Birds began to flock in the sky.

Corpses raised by necromancy for reconnaissance and augury-bird magic focused their observation on the area where the bird had vanished.

It was still okay for now, but at this rate they would be discovered before long.

Vthuma was already filled with traces of the Nether’s apostle whom the Nagas served—the King of the Waves.
Aquatic plants sprouted on the ground, and waves and seawater surged in to drench the buildings.

The buildings of Vthuma, once gilded and sparkling gold with lacquer, had their outer layers peeled away, and hideous moss and seaweed grew over them, turning the place into ruins.

And from across the city came the screams of Vthuma residents who had failed to flee.

“P-Please save us!”

“My child!”

The Nagas were seizing living humans and herding them somewhere.

Behind them already lay bodies strewn like fish in a market—their necks lopped off on chopping boards, their guts gouged out. Grotesque monsters, fashioned from human blood and flesh and entrails, writhed among them.

From human bones and sinew, the Nagas made mummies; and the masses of entrails they clumped together into servants of the Nether.

“…I didn’t expect them to keep faith with the Nagas so zealously.”

Members of the Messenger Clan knit their brows at the sight.

However much they hated the Hubris, the Messenger Clan were human as well. Watching Nagas butcher humans and turn them into monsters was sickening.

One young Messenger, unable to hold back, even retched.

“Hold it in, you idiot. Vomiting just because you saw some corpses—do you call yourself a Messenger?”

“B-But….”

“The leader said this: until we take all eight thrones, we need the Naga Empire. Those bastards are steeped in the Nether cult—so let them do what’s necessary.”

The veteran soothed the younger Messenger, but his own expression wasn’t bright either. In a situation like this, smiling would be stranger still.

Meanwhile, a woman holding a suckling infant was dragged by the Nagas and thrown atop a huge wooden chopping board.

The Nagas extended their tails to bind her hands and feet, and hoisted a great glaive high into the air.

A baby’s cry echoed on all sides.

“……”

The young Messenger couldn’t bear to watch and turned his head away.

But then—

—Swae-ak!—

With a sound splitting the air, an arrow flew in and pierced the neck of the Naga holding the glaive.

Perhaps the arrow severed the Naga’s cervical spine; the massive body lurched, and the glaive crashed to the ground.

“…?!”

At the same time, a fierce rain of arrows poured down in a sudden assault on the Nagas.

Startled, the Nagas propped up the half-made mummies as arrow shields—whereupon blue-gleaming arrows came whistling in.

—Flowers, Birds, Wind, Moon… Clear Breeze, Bright Moon!

As the arrows traced a circle at the level of the mummies’ heads, a blue halo formed, and the mummies’ heads caught in that halo exploded.