Chapter 129

Each time Salvator's members cleared another room in the southwestern reaches of the ruins, the types of beasts standing in their way shifted yet again.

From thick-boned pangolins to millipedes the size of foals—

SKREEEE─

The millipede coiled in the third room collapsed under a lightning-fast flash of Ethan's blade.

Ethan wrenched his sword free from the millipede's foaming mouth and took a careful look around.

The empty room offered no further signs of movement or threats worth noting.

The millipede he'd just killed appeared to be the last beast in this section.

"That's the last of them. Let's go."

Ethan sheathed his sword, wrapped up the situation, and fell in with the group already gathered at the corridor leading to the next room.

The others confirmed Ethan had caught up, then moved as one down the passage.

Thud.

Their footsteps echoed along the straight corridor, layered with the scattered voices of Albin, Nisha, and Lloyd.

"Ugh. The other beasts I can handle, but the millipedes—the way they make my skin crawl, I can't take it. How many legs do those things even have?"

"At least Mikhail figured out their weakness, so we took them down fast. I had no idea they hated moisture that much."

"Come to think of it, Ethan had it rough too. Charging out front to deal with the millipedes on behalf of certain scaredy-cats. You handled three of them by yourself, didn't you?"

Lloyd was tossing the remark out with his usual easy banter from the head of the group when he stole a glance back at Mikhail and Ethan behind him.

"……"

Both of them were utterly expressionless.

They walked with their eyes locked forward, faces betraying not a shred of what lay beneath.

Hmm.

Lloyd looked between the two, gave a helpless shrug, and turned his gaze ahead.

The fourth room had drawn close.

Everyone stepped inside.

Fine golden sand seeped across the floor like a slow leak while sandy-bodied mantises lay in wait at every corner.

Sand mantises.

Vicious temperament, razor-sharp reflexes, and forelegs powerful enough to snap logs in half—an imposing beast by any measure.

HSSSSSK.

Mikhail swept a quick glance across the sand mantises shifting into aggressive stances against the group.

The total count this time was four.

Compared to the previous room, where they'd had no choice but to fight scattered one-on-one, the number had been cut in half.

Right on schedule. Slipping away shouldn't cause any problems.

Mikhail pulled his gaze from the mantises—wings and forelegs swaying in menacing display—and looked down.

A faint tremor beneath his feet.

The vibrations pulsed in lockstep, all of them traveling in the same direction.

Krrrrmm….

The western side of the ruins. Where the Allied Knight Order's formation was positioned.

Mikhail gauged the location and situation the tremors pointed toward, let a short hum escape under his breath, then raised his head and spoke to the group squaring off against the beasts.

"I need to step away for a bit."

"Huh? What are you suddenly—!"

Dian whipped around with a startled yelp, but Mikhail didn't bother answering. He flicked his finger lightly toward the front.

"?"

Confusion flickered across Dian's face—but he flinched almost instantly, snapped his head forward, and threw his weapon up.

CLANG!

Dian's hammer deflected a mantis foreleg that had come slicing in, missing him by a hair.

He gaped for a stunned moment, then screwed up his brow and bellowed straight at the mantis.

"Hey! Don't you have any manners?!"

The furious tirade kicked off the battle in earnest.

Dian roared with a thundering war cry and shoved the mantis's foreleg aside. At the same moment, flashing blades darted in every direction, carving into exposed flesh.

They were seizing the upper hand without any real trouble.

Mikhail watched the situation settle, then turned toward the corridor leading west.

"Mikhail."

Ethan called his name. Mikhail stopped at the sound but didn't turn around.

"Where are you going this time."

Ethan's tone was level, but the edge lurking beneath it wasn't entirely hidden.

Mikhail blinked slowly—a beat of deliberate silence—then answered.

"There's somewhere that'll need my help."

"…Help?"

Puzzlement threaded through Ethan's question.

A sharp stride closed the distance toward Mikhail, and a voice honed to a fine point followed right behind it.

"Fine. Then I'm coming with you."

Mikhail turned to face Ethan and spoke.

"You? Why?"

"……"

Ethan stared at him. Confronted with that dry, clinical question, something in him flickered like a flame about to catch.

His breathing came rough as ash for several beats—then he twisted the corner of his mouth upward and spoke.

"Do you honestly think you're in any shape for this? You came back just a few minutes ago looking white as a sheet."

"Ethan, my condition is… No. Forget it. If I need help, I'll ask first."

Mikhail let out an irritated breath and turned his head away. A spark flared behind Ethan's eyes. Blue veins rose along the back of the hand gripping his sword.

"Mikhail Senit. You really…!"

"Ethan Welton. Your job is to hold the front for everyone here. Not to worry about me."

Ethan didn't add another word.

He stood rigid, staring at Mikhail—then sealed the lips that had barely parted shut like a bolt sliding into place.

"……"

The silence stretched on—until light footsteps approached, and Lloyd appeared at Mikhail's side.

"Thought you were stepping away. What are you still doing here?"

Lloyd flicked the sand mantis fluid from his blade, glanced between Ethan and Mikhail, then slung an arm around Mikhail's shoulders with his usual easy familiarity.

"Something going on between you two?"

Mikhail stole a sidelong look at the sky-blue eyes curving with curiosity, then answered.

"No. It's nothing. I was just about to head out. More importantly…"

Mikhail eased Lloyd's arm off his shoulder, turned his back on Ethan, and spoke as he walked away.

"Don't burn yourselves out in these fights. Save as much energy as you can."

---

Meanwhile, in the fifth room on the western side of the ruins.

A fierce clash raged between the sand moles entrenched inside the chamber and the members of the Allied Knight Order.

GRRRRR!

The sand moles encircled the knights' tight formation, howling with feral menace.

Barely minutes ago, these were the same beasts that had fled without a backward glance—yet now, massed together, every trace of timidity had vanished.

"…Bold, for a pack of beasts. Drawing out our formation like this."

The knights in rank hardened their expressions and tightened their grip on their weapons.

"Everyone, prepare to hold! Here they come!"

The warning had barely died when mounds erupted from the floor. Beasts burrowed beneath the surface and closed on the formation's edge in an instant.

KA-BOOM!

The knights raised their shields against the moles rocketing up from underground and swung their swords.

Mana-laced blades sliced toward the charging beasts.

CLANG!

The reinforced edges carved through the moles' iron-needle fur and gouged wounds into their bodies.

"Hmph—come and get it, then!"

Tibeau Ringer—trainee captain of the Allied Knight Order—rallied his troops with a booming cry and brought his sword crashing down.

THOOM!

The devastating swing toppled a mole's body on impact. The charging beasts recoiled for a heartbeat at the sheer force, and the surrounding knights erupted in cheers.

Fsssshh.

But the reprieve was brief. The moles dove underground again, probing for gaps to shatter the knights' formation before lunging back in.

BANG! KA-BOOM!

The melee repeated with thunderous impacts.

Tibeau cut down the moles baring their fangs and charging in, then cast his eye over the formation they'd constructed.

Frontline defenders holding the perimeter.

Behind them stood a second row, channeling mana through swords planted into the ground.

They'd laid mana barriers underground—preventing the sand moles from tunneling up through the floor and collapsing the formation from within.

These beasts… the sudden power spike caught me off guard for a second, but that's all it was. The Knight Order's defense is an iron fortress. They won't break through easily.

Tibeau glanced at the machine fragments he suspected had triggered the beasts' transformation, then surveyed the moles lurking at the edges and scrunched his nose.

But being stuck in formation like this, unable to push forward and finish them off—that's what grinds my gears.

Dismantling the formation wasn't an option, though. That would leave them wide open to the sand moles' ambushes.

Tch. Can't be helped, I guess. I was hoping for a clean sweep…

Tibeau stole a glance at the broadcast tool hovering nearby, then sensed a beast stirring and set his hand on his sword hilt.

That was the moment.

FWAP!

An alien noise sliced through the air.

Tibeau flinched at the unfamiliar sensation—and a dense blue sphere of mana streaked past his face.

BOOM!

It happened in a flash. A deafening crash shook the room as mana spheres from an unknown source came barreling in from the front, and the sand mole that had been surging toward Tibeau went limp.

"—Wha— what! Where did that come from?!"

Tibeau blinked in blank confusion before the startled shout burst out of him. He whipped his head toward the direction the mana had come from.

"!"

His gaze landed on the room's entrance—the rear of the knights' formation.

A boy of striking appearance who clearly wasn't one of theirs.

But not an unfamiliar figure, either. Deep blue hair whipping around his shoulders, one hand extended forward.

"Huh?"

Tibeau stared vacantly at the boy's features for a moment—then jolted as recognition hit.

The legitimate heir of the North who had defeated Verte Fischer.

Mikhail Senit.

"But… what are you doing here, exactly…?"

FZZT.

Tibeau posed the question with a dumbfounded look, but Mikhail's eyes stayed fixed straight ahead.

His lips were pressed together, offering Tibeau nothing in the way of an answer.

FZZZT.

Mikhail formed another mana sphere at his fingertips and slammed it into yet another sand mole that had sprung from the ground.

BOOM! KA-BOOM!

Tibeau was still whipping his head between the mana spheres drilling into the moles and Mikhail's face when he noticed something.

Mikhail had dropped his gaze to his wrist.

The realization hit Tibeau like a slap. He snapped his eyes down to the scoring device strapped to his own wrist. His gaze froze the instant it landed.

[210pt]

The Allied Knight Order's score had stalled. Not climbing at all.

Because the moles right in front of them were being snatched away, one by one.

"No way… you don't mean…"

Tibeau's eyes rolled like a startled frog's before his face flushed a violent red-purple. He jerked his head up toward Mikhail.

"Mikhail Senit! What do you think you're doing?!"

"Came to score some points."

"Then score them on YOUR side! You've got your own beasts to kill!"

Tibeau's face had gone crimson as he screamed himself hoarse, but Mikhail showed no reaction whatsoever.

BOOM! KA-BOOM!

He cherry-picked the moles the knights had already worn down or the bigger ones worth more points, dropping them one after another—then, with Tibeau glaring at him through bloodshot eyes, turned his head and spoke.

"If you don't like it, come take them back."