Fimbulvert (2)

“The Chadra Convent has been made so that an undead like me cannot approach it. The Mother Superior’s powerful magic is rejecting me. Of course, if I started attacking, I could break her magic eventually, but she and I exchanged a vow to respect one another. I cannot be the first to break that vow.”

Even here on the Chadra Plateau, a place overflowing with ruffians who sought to seize women through lust and the desire to dominate, the Chadra Convent held its authority as a forbidden zone for men.

Azadine had thought that was the work of Niselda, an operative of the convent, but it seemed the Mother Superior herself was wielding her own power, and that it possessed such strong coercive force that even Sir Sork could not carelessly enter the convent.

“So you are telling me to bring you the Eye of Ashajit from inside the convent.”

“That is not all. Niselda is under your command, is she not? Tell her to cooperate in finding Griselda.”

“First of all, while it is rather awkward to say this while treating you with the respect due a senior, for the moment I will refuse the proposal to turn those people into undead. Then naturally, as for the Eye of Ashajit as well… I would have to refuse that proposal too.”

“Is that so? Once the hunger begins, your thinking may change.”

“Then let us discuss it when that time comes.”

“If hunger weakens you, then by that point you may be unable to do it even if you wish to. The Mother Superior and Griselda are not such easy opponents. And I hear you use necromancy as well? Do you have an aversion to undead?”

“I would rather have dead lumps of flesh do what they can in place of making the living suffer from disease until they die. I too, if possible, do not wish to desecrate the dignity of corpses. More than that, is there anything else? Anything else that might overcome Fimbulvert? You seem quite well-versed in the knowledge of the Ancient Gods, so I ask for your help.”

“…There is a sacred treasure called the Eternal Sun that burns vampires. It is a treasure of Soleil, who despises vampires, but it could probably be used to raise crops as well. But I do not know where it is. Griselda may know.”

“Yes. Hmm. What else is there?”

“I heard that Emperor Yaeslat researched Fimbulvert and established countermeasures against it. But would not you, a messenger of the Emperor, know that better?”

“…This is the first I have heard of it.”

“And if you have a knife made from the bones of the Reaper Wendigo, you can cast a barrier spell that drives away winter’s chill. If one keeps burning firewood against Fimbulvert’s cold, one would have to cut down every forest in the world, so a barrier spell against the chill would be very useful for survival.”

“…Ah.”

At the mention of a knife made from Wendigo’s bones, Azadine was startled.

“What is it?”

“No. It was once in my possession, but I lost it while fighting.”

“Oh dear.”

Sir Sork clicked his tongue when he heard that.

“I shall teach you the ‘Fate Spell for Finding a Weapon.’ It is an old spell that discovers the location of a weapon with which you have a connection and creates the conditions for it to return to your hand. It is a Blue spell, have you heard of it?”

“What? No. My knowledge is too shallow; I have never even heard of it.”

“Hmm. Then take it. You can learn it yourself. With your skill, it should be possible.”

Sir Sork took a pen from his breast and began writing letters in the air with a few swift strokes.

Then glowing letters formed with magic appeared, becoming pages, and they flew toward Azadine.

When Azadine received them with his hand, they materialized in his grasp as the pages of a shining magic book.

“This is….”

Azadine marveled at Sir Sork’s tremendous magical talent.

Was this the magic of one who had escaped the fate of the orcs? Only now did he feel he could somewhat understand why Sir Sork had chosen to escape the short-lived life of an orc, even by becoming undead.

“I would like to teach you directly, but I do not have the time. This should be enough for you to master it on your own.”

“Th-thank you.”

“Do not be too grateful. We may end up fighting again over Niselda and Griselda. When that time comes, the wights may hold a festival with your blood and flesh. Still, I do this hoping it may help, even a little, in recovering the knife made from Wendigo’s bones, so learn it quickly and try using it.”

“Ah, this is shameless of me, but since I am asking, let me ask one more thing. Is it possible to cure Elemental Wailing with angel’s blood?”

“…….”

Had he been too shameless? Azadine thought so as he looked at Sir Sork, who had fallen silent.

But then Sir Sork burst into hearty laughter.

“To cure Elemental Wailing with angel’s blood. That is quite a peculiar idea.”

“What do you mean, a peculiar idea?”

Azadine was half in doubt.

True, Giacomo was called an alchemist, but in Azadine’s eyes Giacomo’s skill did not reach even Sir Sork’s level, much less Bernard’s.

Though he had said he devoted his whole life to his research, there was no way his idea could have strayed far from Sir Sork’s line of thinking. Yet Sir Sork called it a peculiar idea? Had Giacomo’s idea gone beyond even Sir Sork’s conception?

“At present, the Celestials of the Rescue Knights Order and Elemental Wailing are closely connected. But it seems you did not know that.”

“……?”

“This is not something to argue over now, when Fimbulvert is approaching. Later, think about getting the Eye of Ashajit from Griselda. And if the cold continues, people will freeze to death, so recover the knife made from Wendigo’s bones as soon as possible. Well then. I shall be on my way now, before troublesome eyes start clinging to me.”

It was clear that when Sir Sork described Giacomo’s idea as peculiar, he had not meant its ingenuity, but rather that some kind of paradox was buried within the chain of cause and effect.

What could it be? He wanted to hear more, but judging by the atmosphere, Sir Sork did not seem inclined to say anything further about it.

“Well then, take care, Sir Azadine. Now that Fimbulvert is approaching, I look forward to seeing what you can do within that corrupt order!”

The wights dragged over a wyvern stripped down to bones, and Sir Sork mounted that wyvern and rose into the air.

“…….”

Azadine felt bewildered as he watched the flight of this strange senior knight(?).

He was clearly an evil and mad dark mage, and yet….

Of all the people Azadine had dealt with since entering the Rescue Knights Order, excluding Bishop Akenar, Sir Sork had been the most friendly and the most helpful, truly an exemplary senior.

“Is the Rescue Knights Order really that far gone? To think Sir Sork is the only proper senior….”

Azadine read the ‘Fate Spell for Finding a Weapon’ that he had received from Sir Sork.

This magic was the kind that, like the heroes of myth, acted upon fate itself and made it possible to recover a weapon among things tied to one by connection.

In other words, it was like saying that one day, someone cut open the belly of a fish they had caught while fishing, and inside was a ring they had lost long ago. It was magic that somehow linked and connected such faint ties, and though it was an advanced spell that consumed an enormous amount of magical power, its effect was doubtful.

However, in order to recover the Wendigo dagger he had lost in battle, there was nowhere else to turn.

“Does something like this really work? It is filthy difficult too. And it uses Blue magic?”

Even for Azadine, whose magical aptitude had become extraordinary through fusion with Arael, this spell was quite difficult.

Sir Sork must have passed it on because it worked. Feeling his way through it, Azadine tried casting the spell.

At once his head throbbed and rang. His magical power was depleted in an instant, dizziness came over him, and a chill entered his body.

“There is some kind of reaction. But I cannot make sense of it. Blue magic is not even my primary field.”

Azadine had, as his foundation, the colorless Flowers, Birds, Wind, Moon and the white Heavenly King’s True Scripture, two lineages of magical power.

To these was added the black necromancy researched by Arael, but red destructive magic and blue fate magic were weaker than his other magics.

Because this spell mainly used Blue magical power, it exhausted Azadine easily.

He did not even know whether he would truly be able to find the Wendigo dagger, so he could not keep casting the spell while suffering magical exhaustion like this.

‘Sir Sork did not give me this spell to harm me, did he? The spell itself is purely woven from fate-binding, though.’

It was while Azadine was thinking that that members of the Northern Aragasa appeared before him.

“G-greetings.”

“What is this? Assassins?”

“No. Actually, the Prince ordered us to tail Sir Azadine, but….”

“You were too afraid of the Fimbulhorde to come any closer and hid instead?”

“…Yes.”

“Well done.”

It sounded like sarcasm, but he was sincere.

If they had been caught by the Fimbulhorde and ended up fighting Sir Sork, then from Prince Kalintz’s point of view, the subordinates he had sent to tail Azadine would be found as horribly murdered corpses.

It would become an awkward situation where even saying it was a misunderstanding would sound strange.

‘But these bastards really are Aragasa. They are good at ambushes. Even I did not notice them.’

Even the Voice of Arael, scouting from the air, seemed not to have noticed their presence.

‘If I rely only on the Voice of Arael and grow lax in watching my surroundings, it could be disastrous. This was a good lesson.’

Azadine threw a question at the Northern Aragasa.

“What does Prince Kalintz intend to do? What does he hope to gain by tailing me?”

“In truth, the Prince wishes to build a good relationship with Sir Azadine.”

“Really? By tailing me? If he gets more enthusiastic, will he go so far as to kidnap me?”

“It is more that Sir Azadine seems to have no interest in women or money, and that has put him in a difficult position.”

Prince Kalintz was the kind of man who, unless he took the upper hand in a deal through bribes or entertainments, the way he did with other nobles and clergy, could not trust the other party.

For someone like him, dealing with a person like Azadine, who seemed to have no greed, would be difficult.

“Tell him he can win me over by giving me information.”

“He already knows that.”

“He knows? Then why?”

“The Prince wants to be the only one who is that sort of person. Simply put, he does not want to be the first one to offer information from this side.”

“He wants to be the only one pretending not to be a vulgar worldling, but Sir Azadine took that position first, and on top of that you are so handsome, so I think he has been greatly disheartened.”

The Northern Aragasa members’ assessment felt rather strange.

That is to say, listening to their assessment of Prince Kalintz, it felt like: an idiot, but our idiot. That sort of sentiment seemed to be contained in it.

If Azadine cheerfully joined in and badmouthed Prince Kalintz here, they would probably become genuinely indignant.

Even if anyone was going to insult him, it had to be them; they would hate it if someone else insulted Prince Kalintz. It was highly likely they would take it that way.

“Jan was like that too, and looking at you lot as well, it seems the Prince is blessed with loyal people?”

“Yes. Well, you see.”

The members of the Northern Aragasa began speaking with visible enthusiasm.