Chapter 26: She Looked as If She Had Jumped Straight Out of Bed

She looked as if she had jumped straight out of bed. Her hair was tied back, yet it billowed behind her with a touch of bedhead. The simple dress she had been wearing was wrinkled here and there as well.

Angeline narrowed her eyes, tapping her heel against the ground. She rolled her shoulders, seemingly making sure of her condition.

She had jumped in from the side the moment Byaku’s magic was about to reach Sasha and delivered a powerful kick. The massive agglomerate of mana had flown off like a stricken ball, diffusing to nothing en route to somewhere far, far away. Everyone who witnessed this was too taken aback for words.

Angeline surveyed the wounded and frowned. “Bullying my friends, are you?”

Byaku scowled. “You...”

“Hmm,” she looked at him, just a touch of anger on her face. The tip of her blade twirled goadingly. “Let me in on the fun...”

“Get real.” Byaku kicked off from the ground and swung his arms. The faint blur of his invisible magic came at Angeline. However, Angeline was not the least bit perturbed. With the unsteady teetering of a sleepwalker, she precisely evaded or sliced through every shot that came at her. It was supposed to be unseeable, yet she moved as if she could make out every last detail. The ground was riddled with divots as the magic gouged out the turf.

“Hmph...”

Byaku attempted to close in for a powerful palm strike, but Angeline disinterestedly kicked him. The translucent sigils prevented a direct hit, but the force still sent him reeling back.

“I’m in top form...for some reason.”

She felt like she had a nightmare in her sleep—a voice, calling to her from beyond the darkness. Gradually, the dark gained form, coiling around her, and pulled her deeper and deeper into its depths. And yet, the feeling of a warm hand pulled her back, and the strange smell of the forest drove the nightmare away entirely. She thought she must have slept quite soundly after that.

She didn’t know why, but she was wide awake now. Her body had shuddered from a terribly ominous sensation, and she could no longer lay still. It was as though something had been calling out to her. And so, she raced out. As she recalled, they were all in the room—her father, Anne, and Merry, and...

Her thoughts were interrupted as Byaku’s magic came flying her way again. Angeline parried it with her blade. “I’m trying to think... Give me some space.”

“You’re looking down on me.”

Byaku stamped his foot. All of a sudden, a number of three-dimensional geometric glyphs flickering the same sandy color as before floated around him. They were mostly spherical, but there were triangles and squares as well, and ones with even more angles than these. The symbols continued to shift, transforming and squirming as though they were alive. The faint light they gave off faintly illuminated Byaku and his surroundings.

Elmore narrowed his eyes in shock. “Three-dimensional patterns... I see, so they weren’t just magic bullets...”

Angeline simply scoffed. “A fine parlor trick... Is that all?”

“Wait ’til you see what they can do.” Byaku swung his arm, and one of the mana assemblages shot towards Angeline.

She swung her sword to cut it down, but it was quite a bit heavier than the invisible magic from before—perhaps dispelling their concealment had increased their firepower.

Soon, figures big and small began rotating around Byaku at their center. He increased the number until they were like planets orbiting around him as their sun.

Forming three-dimensional magical patterns was an advanced art. They were devised from layering several different spells with different effects atop one another—for instance, one might maintain the flow of mana, another would maintain structure, still another would increase power, and yet another to ensure it moved on the caster’s whim. It was possible to impart such a construct with physical mass, which allowed it to block swords and bullets, and it could even serve as an attack if shot at a foe. If it was layered with a spell to function as an autonomous barrier, it could react to attacks, and automatically defend its caster. On top of all of these effects, Byaku had added invisibility. To give substance to so many spells, and have them all work in concert with one another should have been a herculean task.

However, Angeline was not interested in any of this—all she cared about was defeating her foe. And so, off she went. For his part, Byaku swung his hand without any panic. His three-dimensional spell circles burst off at her one after another, but she evaded with the slightest of movements and sliced through. She could tell what direction they were coming from as long as she focused on the movements of his hands.

However, a moment after she was convinced of this, an impact to the back of her head rang her bell. One of the spells had struck her, completely irrespective of his hand movements.

Her vision wavered for a brief moment, but her body moved before her mind, and she swiftly backed off. Apparently, there were spell patterns that moved on their own. Is he simply matching his hands so he can take me by surprise? she wondered, rubbing her head as she glared at him.

“If you need such petty tricks...that just proves you’re weaker than me.”

“Hmph.” Byaku was as expressionless as ever. However, at times, the corners of his mouth and eyes would twitch. It looked as if he was desperately holding something back.

Strangely, the pain in her head immediately dissipated. It wasn’t just that her body was in good condition, it felt as though her natural healing had improved as well. Did something happen while I was asleep?

“I see... This is probably the power of dad’s love.” It was unknowable what leaps of logic took her to that conclusion, but Angeline was convinced it must be so. In any case, once she knew this, she felt power surging through her. She decided not to think about anything unnecessary. “Let’s go...”

Angeline’s form blurred like a mirage; her foot struck Byaku’s stomach before he could react.

“Gah?!”

She moved so fast his automatic barrier didn’t make it in time. The air escaped his lungs, and an expression of anguish crossed his face. Angeline then smacked the hilt of her sword into his shoulder. She could feel his bones breaking.

Byaku’s face twisted as he grabbed Angeline’s arm. The three-dimensional patterns orbiting around him simultaneously assailed Angeline. However, Angeline simply used his grip to pull him off balance, then kicked with all her might, slamming Byaku into the ground. The force of the impact caused him to tumble away, his solid magic sigils carving gashes through the ground around him; Angeline doggedly followed behind.

“Grr...”

He tried to stand, but Angeline placed a foot on his back. “I want to ask you something... Who are you? What’s your objective?”

“That’s what I wanna know. Who the hell are you?”

“I am Angeline... Daughter of the Red Ogre, Belgrieve.”

Upon hearing that, Byaku’s face twisted in rage. “Daughter? Ha... Pull the other one! Who do you think you are?!”

There was an uncanny cracking as Byaku’s skin rippled and swelled. His broken shoulder twisted and writhed, knitting itself back together. Byaku shook Angeline off and rose to his feet. His once-expressionless face was a maelstrom of emotion, and there was a fiery madness in his eyes.

“Why is it always you?!”

“Huh...? What are you talking about?”

Byaku jumped on her like a nimble beast. His hand had changed to something black and grotesque, and he attacked with sharp claws.

“What... You’re not human?”

Byaku continued to attack, offering no answer. The blood was rushing to his head; though his movements were fast, they were also all over the place. Angeline dodged for a bit, but eventually gave up on that and swung her sword. Her blade carved through his shoulder.

“Ugh—?!”

Once he had stopped moving, she kicked him to the ground. He landed belly-up, his shoulder wound gushing not blood, but a spray of black mist. His hair was turning from black to white.

Angeline narrowed her eyes. “Seriously, what are you...a new form of fiend?”

“Cough... Same as you...”

Byaku placed a hand to his chest and closed his eyes. All of a sudden, his form blurred, and by the time Angeline had raised her sword, he was gone.

“Snap... He got away...”

Suddenly, there was a dull sound in the distance—the sound of something breaking. Angeline turned blankly to see a curtain of black clouds hanging over the Bordeaux Estate.

Earlier...

“Dad! Hold down the fort!”

Angeline suddenly sprang out of bed, grabbing her sword and bounding out of the room before he could say a word in reply. This surprising turn of events roused Belgrieve from his rest as well; though still drowsy, there was no way he could just go back to sleep after that. Perhaps due to habits ingrained in them as adventurers, Anessa and Miriam were swifter to rise, taking up their weapons and looking around with sharp eyes.

“Wh-What? Something happening...?”

“Huuuh? Where’s Ange?”

Belgrieve stuffed the small elixir bottle into his pocket, picked up his sword, and opened the window. There were clouds looming in the night sky. The wind was tepid, the same as it had been during their previous battle. He saw Angeline crossing the yard at a fearsome pace.

“So it’s not over yet... I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” Belgrieve turned to the two adventurers. “Let’s go. I’m worried about Helvetica.”

“But Ange is...”

“That’s precisely why. Now that she’s gone, it’s our duty to protect the manor.”

That was enough to convince them.

And so, they put the room behind them and headed off to find Helvetica. It had been such a struggle to move before, and yet Belgrieve’s body now felt surprisingly light. This was surely a testament to the incredible effectiveness of the elven elixir.

The stench still lingered around the manor, but the corpses had been cleared away and with the windows propped open, there had been some slight improvement. Soldiers stood here and there, keeping a watchful eye, while servants continued to clean up the remaining grime.

Helvetica was in her room, discussing something with Seren. Her guards were stationed by the door and window. Upon seeing Belgrieve, Anessa, and Miriam rush in, she raised her head curiously.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“The black clouds are here again. Something’s about to happen.”

She cast her eyes downward, knowingly. “If it was going to happen, it would have to be tonight...just as I thought.”

“Pardon?”

“The enemy is aiming for me. In which case, he’ll have to act before he loses his own head tomorrow.”

“Sis, Sash is...”

“I know... He’d catch wind of it if I sent an army, so I sent her out alone... Was that a mistake?”

She trusted Sasha’s skills, but her opponent’s abilities were unknown. It would be simple enough for Sasha to arrest Count Malta, but if he had a strong guard along with him... Helvetica clicked her tongue, lamenting her own shortsightedness. She had grown impatient to move before her foe could.

There was a commotion brewing outside the manor, and a servant suddenly raced into the room.

“My lady! The undead are at it again!”

“So they’re here... Deal with them calmly. Our foe is also panicking—do not make any rash moves.”

Anessa and Miriam stepped forth.

“We’ll help.”

“Yeah! I haven’t rampaged nearly enough.”

“Thank you,” Helvetica said with a smile. “I couldn’t ask for more reliable company.”

The two adventurers bowed and left the room. Belgrieve was about to leave too, only for the countess to gingerly grab the hem of his shirt.

“What’s wrong?”

“Umm... If possible, I want you to stay close... I’m anxious without Sasha or Ashe around.”

I see, thought Belgrieve. While she carried herself courageously and with dignity, her hand was shaking ever so slightly. Belgrieve nodded with a smile.

“Got it. I’m not sure how much help I’ll be, but I’ll take up guard duty for you.”

“Thank you...” Helvetica said with a relieved chuckle, while Seren drew closer to him, looking a bit reassured.

Seeing as there would be nowhere to run should they be cornered in that room, Belgrieve proposed they move to the first floor. That would make every window an escape route if push came to shove. They met up with the servants, waiting for the undead outside to be cleared away.

Outside the manor, there were flashes of lightning followed up by explosions—Anessa and Miriam were on the job. There were far fewer undead here than there had been at the graveyard, and there was surely little to worry about with two AAA-Rank adventurers about.

More worrisome, however, was the ringleader behind all this chaos. If Count Malta was the mastermind, that would mean he would have to have a magician who could use necromancy by his side. Malta himself was not much of a threat, but they could not drop their guard with the magician around.

Where has Angeline gone? Is something happening in town? Belgrieve wondered.

A sudden strong wind rattled the windows, carrying a stench so foul they reflexively grimaced. Belgrieve immediately grabbed the two sisters, shouting, “Get away from the windows!”

Not a moment later, the window pane shattered and black smoke began flooding into the room. As bewildered as they were, the soldiers stood, weapons at the ready, between the smoke and their lady.

This black smoke shifted from one shape to another as it drifted along the ceiling. Belgrieve glanced at the exit. “Let’s get out of here.”

Helvetica nodded, taking Seren’s hand and cautiously edging towards the door. Belgrieve guarded their retreat, glaring at the smoke with a hand on his hilt. While much of it lingered in the air, some had begun to coalesce in one spot on the floor. Bit by bit, it was beginning to take shape; it seemed it wouldn’t be able to make a move before it finished doing so.

Belgrieve’s phantom pain began to act up; the same burning sensation from when he lost his right leg was creeping over him as he broke out in a sweat.

He gritted his teeth, never letting his guard down for a second while he ensured the sisters had left the room, and then the servants and soldiers as well. Finally, he took up the rear guard, following behind.

They had gone a short distance before he heard the door busting open—the smoke must have finished coalescing. He stopped in his tracks and called out to Helvetica.

“Helvetica, the undead outside should be cleared up by now. Take the people of the estate, and leave with Anne and Merry.”

“Of course... What about you?”

“I’ll hold that thing back until you’ve escaped.”

He stared at it. An entity like a black shadow puppet was shambling down the hall. It possessed a round body from which numerous tentacle-like legs had sprouted. It was like a distorted spider—but it was far smaller than the one at the graveyard.

“Hurry!” Belgrieve shouted as he drew his sword.

“But...Angeline will be sad if you die!”

Belgrieve looked over his shoulder and smiled. “I’m not going to die. An adventurer’s first duty is to stay alive—I’m the one who taught her that. How could I look her in the eye if I died here?”

While Helvetica hesitated a moment, her expression quickly tightened. “Good luck!” she said to him. “Let’s go! Seren, pick up the pace!”

“R-Right, sis...”

Seren looked back anxiously at Belgrieve but ultimately ran off with her sister.

Belgrieve took in a deep breath. He looked forward. The shadow was approaching. His missing leg was hurting more and more.

“Now then...”

Scowling, he raised his sword and advanced towards the shadow, its feelers swaying about before swatting at him like whips...

“Too late.”

However, they were sliced through before they could make contact with him. These severed appendages disappeared in puffs of black smoke.

His body felt exceptionally light. The phantom pain still assailed him, but the adrenaline let him ignore it. His senses were strangely sharp, and he could vividly grasp his foe’s movements. From where his hand gripped the hilt to the tip of its blade, it all felt like an extension of his arm.

He carved through the feelers as though they were butter, and he realized he had closed in on the main body in the blink of an eye. His feet stopped there, but his blade continued forth with his momentum. The shadow was severed sideways with surprisingly little resistance. It let out a whistling sound as it dissipated.

“Is that all...?”

He felt a little letdown, and it was precisely for that reason that he knew the battle wasn’t finished. He had no time to waste there, though—he had to meet back up with Helvetica.

The moment he had resheathed his blade, he saw a figure beyond the smoke. He strained his eyes, barely making out a small girl.

Charlotte stood there. Her face was twisted in rage, and her clenched fist quivered.

Belgrieve narrowed his eyes dubiously. “I saw you, at the pub...”

“Each and every one of them...getting in my way!” she bemoaned, stomping her feet. “What’s your problem? Why me?!”

“Are you all right? It’s dangerous here. How about we...”

“Don’t come any closer!” She thrust out her arm as he tried to take a step towards her. The black gemstone on her ring glimmered. “I was so close... So close!”

Charlotte’s body emanated an explosive burst of mana, causing Belgrieve to instinctively reach for his sword. A maddened smile crossed the girl’s face.

“Die.”

It was as if the space behind her had distorted. As Belgrieve focused his eyes, a black smoke erupted from Charlotte’s ring, taking shape again. The phantom pain he had been ignoring once again reared its ugly head, and Belgrieve gripped his sword tightly, his brow knitted.

The shadow tentacles reached out, swinging like whips. He dodged and sliced through. Just as before, they posed little threat. However, each time her ring glowed, his phantom pain increased.

“Grrr!”

Breaking into a cold sweat, Belgrieve rebuked his legs that had begun to give ground. He stepped forward, grimacing, before that one step turned into a charge. He severed the next wave of tentacles in one swing, that movement flowing into a high stance, before ending with his blade lowered. The shadow puppet was shredded once more, after which it dissipated into smoke.

Charlotte looked at him in disgust and chanted a few more words. A magic bullet shot from her fingers, and Belgrieve shielded it with the flat of his blade. It was a heavy blow, but he managed to nullify it with a little exertion. But then a second and third shot came flying at him. This would have been too much for him to shrug off, so he evaded instead. With exaggerated flair, these bullets exploded into the manor walls and floor.

“Aha...aha ha ha ha ha!”

Charlotte laughed as she began advancing, firing more of these bolts. With little else to do, Belgrieve gradually retreated. He was at a loss for how to continue as the magic bullets continued to fly without end, and every single shot was fearsome. More than that though, he hesitated to swing his sword when his opponent was a little girl.

The fight now seemed one-sided, until Charlotte’s face suddenly contorted in fear. She drew her arm back and hurriedly grasped it with her other arm.

“Wh-What is this?!” she stammered. “No...no!”

The black gemstone in her ring had begun to swell in size as if gaining more mass. It began to wrap around Charlotte’s hand like a viscous liquid, slowly worming its way up her arm. Charlotte tried to fling the black mass off, but it stuck fast. She began to wail.

“This can’t... Not like this! Save me! Dad! Mom!”

Now that the barrage of bullets had ceased, Belgrieve was able to rush over to her. Losing her mind from sheer terror, she clung to him.

“Save me! Please! Save me!”

“Calm down!”

She twitched, convulsed, and then fell silent in response to his shout.

Belgrieve looked at her hand. The black mass was restlessly squirming, and it had completely covered her wrist. It was slowly gaining more mass as it steadily headed for her elbow.

He hesitated. It would be quickest to amputate her forearm. But as young as she was, he feared she might die from the shock. He thought it over before wondering, “Will that work?”

From his pocket, he produced the elven elixir. He uncorked it and dribbled the elixir over the dark matter. He could not carefully measure out a drop in this situation, so he poured out the remaining contents of the bottle. The moment the liquid made contact with the black substance it writhed and pulsed as if it were in pain.

Charlotte’s eyes widened. “Eep!” she cried.

Belgrieve deftly took hold of her slender arm and slid his hand down it towards the tips of her fingers. The black mass peeled away, falling to the floor. Without hesitation, he raised his sword; his phantom pain had abated now, and with all his bodily strength and his newfound synergy with his blade, he slashed downward into the black matter. Taking the brunt of an attack that severed the corridor itself in two, the mass split, squirming only for a moment more before fading away.

Charlotte blankly sat where she stood while Belgrieve took a deep breath. That seemed to be the end of it. He sheathed his weapon and took a knee beside the girl.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

For a while, she remained silent, but without warning, she burst into tears and clung to him.

“I was scared... So scared! Waaaah!”

Belgrieve sighed and patted her on the head. Right now, she was no more than a young girl. Why did such a small child possess that strange power? He tilted his head as someone pulled Charlotte away. He looked up, startled, to see Byaku standing there. He seemed wounded all over, but he one-handedly held Charlotte up by the scruff.

Belgrieve narrowed his eyes. “You’re...”

“Byaku...you...”

“Let’s go.”

Byaku held her close, painstakingly waving his arm, and their two figures began to sway like a mirage. Charlotte frantically looked at Belgrieve and opened her mouth.

“Th-Tha—”

Before she could finish, they were gone. Belgrieve, with furrowed brow, stood up. He could hear footsteps behind him. When he turned, something soft jumped into his arms.

“Dad!”

“Oh, Ange. You’re all right.”

“Yes. I’m glad you’re safe... Though I knew you’d be just fine!”

Angeline happily buried her face in his chest.

○

Turning back the clock a bit...

After parting from Belgrieve, Helvetica’s party raced through halls that were all too familiar to them. The undead had been contained outside, and it didn’t seem that any had managed to infiltrate.

Seren looked back anxiously a number of times.

“Sis, do you think Belgrieve’s all right...?”

“His skills are real; even Sasha recognizes him. Let’s have faith in him.”

If they didn’t make it to safety, that would render his selfless risk pointless—and so, Helvetica hastened on. These passages were all the same ones she had grown up in, yet they seemed far longer—perhaps a reflection of her state of mind.

I was naive. She gritted her teeth. Her father was adored and revered as a wise lord; he had laid a sturdy foundation, and she had picked up right where he left off. She hadn’t found the position to be much of a burden—she had always been clever, and under her father’s guidance, she had surveyed their territory and involved herself in its internal affairs at a young age. Furthermore, on her own judgment, she had assertively recruited talented people for appointments, invigorating the territory even during her father’s reign. She had a talent for management, and was popular as well. Even in the blade arts, she boasted respectable skill, though not as much as Sasha or Ashcroft. Everyone recognized, trusted, and adored her.

But perhaps that was precisely why she never turned her eye to the bad parts, and why it had been far too smooth of sailing until now. She had put off rounding up Count Malta and all the other opposing nobles. Everyone put on a nice face when they met her, and she believed that if she went at it wholeheartedly, they could come to terms eventually.

Of course, she still believed this, even now. But her duty was to those who lived openly and earnestly. The lives and happiness of such people could change in any which way on the single order of whoever stood at the top.

Count Malta specialized in power struggles and nothing else; it was hard to believe he would be a better governor than her. In fact, it was far easier to imagine him working his vile ways to prioritize his own desires. Helvetica did not think it would be completely impossible for them to reach a mutual understanding—perhaps they shared an opinion somewhere. However, what would become of the people if she fixated on this and allowed her own downfall? She could not keep her hands clean forever.

The weight on her shoulders was heavy—far heavier than she had ever imagined, and only now was she realizing it. She lamented that her father had left the world before she grew to understand this.

“My father bore this weight all his life, didn’t he?”

Seren tilted her head. “Sis? What is it?”

“Nothing...”

They arrived at the front door. The yard was scattered with the remnants of bodies, and a little further down, they could see Anessa and Miriam. Seren sighed in relief.

“That’s good...”

And then, there was a tremor behind them. The mansion shook. The parlor chandelier jostled, its chain jangling. Helvetica swiftly looked around, then pushed Seren’s back.

“Out! Hurry!”

“Right!”

They exited, grimacing at the piercing stench of undead. Meanwhile, alerted by the noise, Anessa and Miriam rushed over to their side.

“You’re both all right!”

“Huh? Where’s Mr. Bell?”

“An enemy came in from the back. Sir Belgrieve stayed behind to stall it...” Seren explained.

Miriam glanced at Anessa in a panic. “That’s not good! We need to help him!”

“Stupid! If Ange and Mr. Bell aren’t here, we’ve got to protect Helvetica and Seren!”

“Erk... But if he’s up against that shadow thing... I mean, even Ange lost to it once...” her voice shrunk as she went on.

Anessa sighed. “Mr. Bell will be fine. He’s someone who can defeat that very same Ange.”

“I see... You’re right!” Miriam laughed, relieved.

Anessa looked around. “Still, where did Ange go...” She narrowed her eyes. Soon, she was gripping her bow again, glaring into the dark. “There are more of them.”

Everyone looked in that direction. There was a clattering noise as a gaggle of armored undead appeared. The soldiers and servants were astir. Their fallen comrades whose bodies they had just gathered and prayed for moments ago had returned with hollow eyes.

Miriam looked at Helvetica, a conflicted expression on her face. “Helvetica...”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s free their souls.”

“We’ll do it,” Anessa declared, stepping forth. She drew her bow and swiftly fired off consecutive arrows, while Miriam raised her staff to summon lightning. In an instant, the undead were pulverized and unmoving. The fate of those who had been alive and well just a few days ago caused a few of their former colleagues to break out in tears.

The two adventurers coldly and deliberately eliminated them all; they knew it was better to end it quickly before any emotion could creep in. Helvetica closed her eyes in gratitude, and that was when Seren let out a stiff scream.

“Eek... Sis!”

“That’s...!”

Another undead had appeared—a relatively fresh corpse wearing well-tailored clothing, with platinum-blond hair and mustache, and an ashen yet unforgotten face...

“Fa...ther...”

The former count of Bordeaux. He had no identifiable expression, his two arms dangling loosely as he made his way over.

“No...no, this can’t...be real...”

Seren powerlessly fell to her knees. Miriam rushed over and held her up by her quivering shoulder.

“Such cruelty...”

Anessa clenched her teeth in anger and readied her bow. However, Helvetica took a step forward before she could loose an arrow. The countess drew her sword.

“An undead will die of a severed head...correct?”

Anessa frowned. “You don’t have to...”

“I do.”

Perhaps this is a trial for me, Helvetica thought. If she wanted to reign, she could not be the same sheltered lady she had been before. She could not run away or turn aside—she had to face reality head-on. The standing of nobility with respect to commoners also meant a duty to take a stand, the most decisive difference between them.

She had done all she could to erase the class divide. Together, she had shed her sweat with them in the fields, and spoken with them eye to eye. Together, they all developed the territory. Even so, she was not the same as the commoners, and this was where she had to exhibit that difference.

“If it is for the people to run away... The lady must not flee,” she muttered softly, gazing at the thing that had once been her father.

The mansion shook again. Belgrieve was fighting, surely. Everyone was fulfilling their own roles. She would have to live with shouldering responsibility for so many people.

She took in a deep breath, nearly recoiling as the miasma filled her lungs, but she fixed her gaze ahead.

“Father...it’s my turn to bear your burdens.”

She slowly took up a stance. The undead halted before her; perhaps it was due to the shadows, but it almost looked as if it were smiling.

○

He received no word even as the night drew on. They must have failed, Malta thought as he hurriedly left the inn. What worthless children! He silently cursed them even as he wondered if they had used the corpse of the former Count Bordeaux as he had suggested. Naturally, a young lady would be shaken to the core. She would be unable to maintain her cool and would thus be vulnerable, presenting the perfect opportunity to attack. However, he received no further word. There surely would have been some uproar if Helvetica had died.

He knew he would be caught at this rate. He needed to escape the city and plot his comeback. The eastern cities are anti-Bordeaux. Can’t I hide there? he wondered.

As he sprinted around a corner, he ran into a platoon of soldiers on patrol. They saluted and lowered their heads.

“Count, where are you going at this hour?”

“Hmm, um... I cannot remain quiet while the town is in crisis. I must make my rounds...”

“Oh, how commendable! You must be tired. It isn’t much, but how about a glass of wine at the station? Would you like to take some refreshment?”

Count Malta considered his situation: there was little point in leaving with nothing but the clothes on his back. If he went to the guard station, he would be able to meet up with the soldiers he had brought to the countryside with him, and he could obtain a horse as well. Furthermore, it would be suspicious for him to decline their offer. Who exactly would believe him if he were to suddenly act steadfastly here?

“Very well... Lead the way.”

The soldiers graciously led the count to the station, a sturdy stone building in front of which sat soldiers and adventurers around bonfires. Everyone cheerfully greeted the count. Looks like they really believe I took care of the fiend. He chuckled to himself. What absolute buffoons.

Their party entered, and the soldiers came to a stop in a room at the back of the hall.

“In here, count. This is a room for superior officers.”

“Good.”

Though he entered in high spirits, the count’s eyes widened in bewilderment when he saw Helvetica sitting there, waiting for him with a calm smile.

“You’ve finally made it, Sir Count.”

The door shut behind him. His arms were grabbed by a soldier on each side.

Count Malta turned pale. “Wh-Wh-What is this, Helvetica?! What sort of treatment is this—to me, of all people?!”

Helvetica chuckled. “You’ve gone a bit too far, you know... You should have spent the rest of your years peacefully in Hazel.”

“What are you talking about?! What are you saying I’ve done?!”

“You should understand that better than anyone.”

Helvetica stood, the sheath sliding off her sword. Count Malta swallowed his breath as he saw his own reflection in its mirror-like sheen.

“W-Wait! Your credibility will hit rock bottom if you kill me without reason! Where’s your evidence? What proof do you have that I’ve done wrong?!”

“I have none. Not yet.”

“Th-This is absurd! This is tyranny!”

“We can find out plenty once we investigate later... However, Malta, if you tell me who you were working with, I’ll spare your life—though you will be exiled from the territory.”

“Oh...! M-Most certainly!”

Malta rapidly listed out the names of every conspirator. Her eyes were cast down in sorrow with every new name she heard.

“That’s all of them! Isn’t that enough? Hurry and release me!”

“Hmm?” Helvetica cocked her head. She looked at the soldiers around her. “Did I ever say I would do that?”

“No, you did not. He must have misheard something.”

“I did not hear anything of the sort.”

Count Malta was taken aback; his face turned red as he understood he had been deceived. “Y-Y-Y-You wench! You...lied!”

Helvetica remained smiling throughout, though her eyes were not smiling in the slightest. “This incident was brought about by my own naivete—this I admit. You have my gratitude. It’s thanks to you that I’ve found my resolve.”

“Wh-Wh-What... You little girl! Do you think you’ll get off lightly from this?! I’m from the dukedom, a noble straight from the capital! The blood in my veins is different from whatever filth flows through yours!”

“Oh, even better. It disgusts me to even imagine that the same blood might flow through our veins.”

Helvetica slowly walked over to him. The soldiers pinned him down as he kicked and screamed.

She lifted the blade. “Some pigs must be slaughtered.”

Her blade fell, and then there was silence. Helvetica took a moment to catch her breath.

“Place him by the side of the road. The brave and gallant Count Malta went on patrol on his own, only to meet his tragic end at the hands of bandits.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The soldiers left through the back door, hauling the corpse away with them. Helvetica put her sword aside and slowly made her way out. “What a long night it has been...”

There was a sliver of white spreading across the eastern sky.

Chapter 27: The Sky Was Clear

The sky was clear, as though yesterday’s heavy clouds had been nothing but a dream, and the hearty feeling of spring was carried on the wind as it softly brushed against the skin. Soft tufts of sprouting grass carpeted the ground on which small animals and bugs busily raced to and fro, and a lone bird traced a ring in the open air.

Charlotte stood absentmindedly under the sun, staring up at that bird. Her clothes and white hair were grimy; she had not cleaned up since the turmoil of the night before.

“To the very end, I never managed to thank him...”

“What’s wrong with that?” asked Byaku, who was sitting on the ground beside her. His clothes were tattered, but his wounds were closed. Still, he was in his recovery period and would grimace and press down on the gashes each time the wind brushed against them.

Charlotte sighed as she sat down beside him. She rested her chin atop her knees, and holding up her right hand, she watched the light filter through the gaps in her fingers. Her ring no longer had a gemstone—not a sliver of power remained.

“I don’t have Samigina’s ring anymore... What am I supposed to do now?”

“How should I know? What do you want to do, Your Holiness?”

“Don’t call me that. It was a scam, and it’s over.”

“What about getting revenge on the Vienna cult?”

“I still hate them. Of course I do, but...”

Is that really the correct thing to do? she wondered.

Charlotte was the daughter of a cardinal in Lucrecia. She was brought up in happiness, sheltered like a princess. Back then, she had been a pious follower of Vienna, and marveled at the wondrous blessings of the goddess.

However, when she was eight years old, the Inquisition knocked on her door. Lucrecia was rife with the intense political strife between cardinals, and her father had become embroiled in it. The depth of their faith would prove irrelevant to whether they were heretics or not—in the end, it ultimately came down to money and power. And on those points, her house had lost.

They were thus branded as heretics. While the allegation was false, the deciding factor had been Charlotte’s albinism and the fact she possessed tremendous mana. Under different circumstances, these factors may have lifted her up as a saint, but what did it matter when their enemies were simply looking for any reason they could use?

Charlotte fell into despair. She was enraged by the Church of Vienna, which scorned the innocent as sinners. She cursed the goddess who would not save those who had lived so devoutly, wholeheartedly offering their prayers. The Lucrecian nobles who made an about-face the moment the verdict was handed down, and the clergymen who would so smugly call them heretics—all of them were detestable. And the masses—oh, the masses—who believed the accusation without a doubt and cheered on her family’s execution with self-satisfied looks on their faces...

It was not so bad in other nations, but heretics were despised in Lucrecia. Anyone the clergy charged with heresy would be put to death as a traitor to Vienna—and if that heretic was a high-ranking cardinal, their family would be killed with them.

Her parents had risked their lives to let her get away. She fled alone, and what a harsh flight it was. Her clothes were reduced to rags, and there were days she fished through garbage for food. Then there were the times she was attacked by ruffians. As someone who had been raised without want of anything, these wandering days were terribly cruel and pathetic; time and again, she would long for death. But when she thought of her parents, she could not bring herself to do that.

It was then that she met a man. He spoke to her about Solomon, who once had the whole continent in the palm of his hand, and bent the demons to his whim. The man said he would bring him back, and asked her if she would be Solomon’s priestess.

Charlotte was entranced. With that power, she could save those that suffered from being branded as heretics, and she could take vengeance on those priests and nobles. I’ll take the stage as Solomon’s saint and show them how it feels to suffer. I’ll see their faces twist in anguish and despair. With that thought, she took the man’s hand.

In only two years, she was giving sermons throughout the neighboring empire of Rhodesia with Byaku, her assigned follower. With Charlotte’s refined features and innate gift of gab, her message spread far through the territories ruled by corrupt lords. She could bring about “miracles” with the Ring of Samigina the man had given her, and win power-hungry nobles to her side.

Rhodesia was walking down a similar path of corruption as Lucrecia; before that could happen, she would save it from Vienna’s clutches. Then, she would make her triumphant return to her homeland.

That was the plan, at least. At this juncture, she was losing her conviction that this was the right thing to do. It felt as if the heated fervor clouding her vision was clearing away.

“His hand...was warm...”

She recalled the sensation of a hand caressing her head. Did my father pat me like that? I don’t remember. Her father had been a bit younger than the bearded man, though.

Naturally, she still hated the Vienna cult and the clergy in Lucrecia. However, perhaps what she wanted wasn’t revenge, but the warmth a parent could offer. Maybe she had given up on it, certain that it was a dream within a dream, and forged ahead on her path of vengeance in order to forget it. After all, there was no guarantee that, in times of despair, the hand that reached out to you was necessarily a righteous one.

Byaku lazily swayed backward and laid face up on the ground.

“Did you fall for the old guy?”

“What...? Don’t be daft! I’m just saying he had a warm hand! I thought he was like my father, that’s all!”

“A father, eh... Hmm,” Byaku mused, discontentedly closing his eyes.

A parent’s love—something so painful to remember she thought it was best forgotten, but now it was clearly coming back into Charlotte’s heart. All of a sudden, the wickedness of all she’d done weighed down on her, and she covered her face. What terrible things I’ve done, she thought. Her tears fell in an endless stream.

“Ahh... Waaaaaaah!”

Byaku quietly lifted himself up and placed a hand on Charlotte’s head.

“Quit crying. It’s annoying...”

“Hic...ugh...”

Charlotte wiped the tears away from her eyes with her palm. “Hey, Byaku...”

“Hm?”

“If...hypothetically, you know. If I said I was giving up on revenge, would you still follow me?”

He hesitated a moment. “I’m your follower. You just do whatever you want.”

“Yes... Of course. Thank you...”

Her tears had turned into a torrent. She buried her face in her knees in a futile attempt to hide it away as she leaned against Byaku.

○

“I let my guard down, I did! It looks like Sasha Bordeaux has a long road ahead! Ha ha ha—ow, ow ow ow!” In the middle of her carefree laugh, Sasha suddenly grasped her left arm with a look of anguish.

Seren rushed over and patted her shoulder. “For crying out loud, Sash. You’re injured, settle down...”

“Yes... How bitter it is, to be unable to move...”

Sasha slouched against the headboard of her bed, her lips pursed. Despite the mansion’s appalling state, those gathered in one of the few untouched rooms smiled.

There were deaths among the adventurers and the soldiers guarding the Bordeaux Estate, but miraculously, while some of the civilians had been injured, none had died. The cooperative relationship between the soldiers and adventurers and the swift countermeasures that had been implemented paid off. Of course, the contributions of high-ranking adventurers like Angeline could not be disregarded.

There was a bit of noise when Count Malta was found dead. He had been killed with a blade, so it couldn’t have been one of the undead. His death was the subject of much speculation, but as the soldiers on patrol said they had seen him wandering the streets alone, the townsfolk came to the conclusion that he had been attacked by a looter. The count’s clothes were high-class and visibly so; it was easy to imagine someone taking advantage of the chaos to make some money on the side.

His people were never so fond of him, so they took the news well. The anti-Bordeaux faction, however, was another story. The disappearance of their mediator caused their secret alliance to fall apart. After all, the count’s corpse was clearly a warning from Helvetica.

With that said, however, there wasn’t a single soul brave enough to publicly accuse her of the deed. No matter what they said, Helvetica’s popularity in the region was astounding. Nobody would believe such allegations, and it would only result in the accuser’s reputation taking a hit. These opposing nobles feared the day they received a summons from the countess, reining in their public opposition with indisputable impartiality.

The undead outbreak and Belgrieve’s fight with Charlotte had left the mansion even worse off than before. It would take quite some time to make repairs, and there would hardly be any manpower that could be spared for the roads now. Not that the plan was going to be abandoned—once things had calmed down in Bordeaux, they would send a messenger to Turnera. Belgrieve had no objections to this; it would be cruel to demand more, given the situation.

Angeline was in perfect form from the moment she woke up, unable to settle down without keeping on her feet. She was consequently absent from the room and was instead running around the front yard, dragging Anessa and Miriam along with her, both of whom seemed worse for wear. Like Angeline, Belgrieve could feel energy surging through his body, and found it a little unsettling as he sat there.

The elixir had proven more effective than he had imagined. But it was gone now—there was a limit to how much liquid could fit inside a bottle small enough to palm.

Belgrieve offered a wry smile. “You took a real beating, Sasha. If I still had some of the elixir Ashcroft gave me, I would have shared it...”

“Oh, not at all, Master! Our house always has elixirs ready to use! No need to worry! I’m more ashamed I’m showing myself in such a pathetic state!”

“Is that so...”

“Umm...Sir Belgrieve?” Ashcroft approached. “Did you already use up the elixir?”

“Yeah, sorry about that. A drop for Ange, a drop for me, and... well, the rest for something else.”

“A drop...straight?”

“Huh...? Yes, I think so.”

The corners of Ashcroft’s lips twitched as he said, “Ahem... I know I neglected to mention it, but...an elixir should usually be diluted in water.”

“What?!”

“I thought you would know...”

According to Ashcroft, an elixir was too strong to drink straight. The ones produced in the empire weren’t that effective, so some adventurers would take the undiluted concoction in the midst of battle for an explosive power boost, but the elven ones were something else entirely. It was recommended to mix it with several dozen times its volume in water and to ingest it slowly. Taking too much at once would induce restlessness as it had with Angeline. In worse cases, it would produce a discrepancy between the physical body and the senses.

In short, Angeline and Belgrieve would be unable to calm down until they had expended all their amplified stamina. No wonder I healed so fast. Is that why I’ve been feeling hot for a while now? Belgrieve pondered. And while he now had an explanation, he also felt terribly embarrassed.

There was little he could have done—an E-Rank adventurer would be lucky to even get a glimpse of an elixir. Still, he had used something so valuable in a single night and used it incorrectly at that.

“Ha ha ha!” Sasha cackled. “As expected of Master! Always going big!”

“You didn’t have to say it, Sash!”

“Ha ha... Sorry...” Belgrieve sighed, awkwardly scratching his head.

His mind was clear, and he didn’t hurt anywhere. But now that Ashcroft brought it up, he could feel a slight delay between how his arm moved, and how he thought it should be moving. He feared what would happen if he became accustomed to moving like this before the effects wore off. Perhaps he could have managed that in his younger days, but at his age, perhaps he would make a habit of motions beyond what his old bones could handle. The effects could be extended with another drop, but elven elixirs were not so easy to come across.

Helvetica entered the room with Elmore. She looked tired, but at peace. “How is your condition, Sasha?” she asked.

“Oh, sis. Not any worse than I look.”

“I’m glad you’re well,” she said with a chuckle. “Shall we have lunch then? The mansion is a mess, so it will have to be in the yard if no one minds.”

Seren gleefully nodded. “Sounds good. The weather’s lovely.”

“Then onwa—ow, ow ow ouch!”

“Please don’t push yourself, Lady Sasha...” Ashcroft raced to support the girl when she nearly keeled over after springing to her feet.

As Belgrieve made his way out, Elmore addressed him. “Splendid work, Belgrieve. Thanks to you and everyone else, the damage to the city’s been contained to a minimum. I offer my thanks as the guild master of Bordeaux.”

“What are you talking about? I hardly did anything.”

“I can tell after fighting alongside you. Your sword skills are exceptional. I’ve gotten a good eyeful of the Red Ogre in action.”

“That name makes me feel itchy...”

While it still didn’t sit right with him, Belgrieve still hoped he had worked hard enough to live up to his moniker.

Elmore smiled. “How long will you stay in Bordeaux?”

“Well let’s see... I’ve finished my business here, so I think I’ll go after I help clean up the mansion a bit. Two to three days, I’d say.”

“If it’s all right with you...won’t you join the guild here? With skills like yours, I’m sure no one would complain if I instated you at a higher rank. It would light a fire under our younger ones.”

“You must be joking. It’s all downhill from here for me. My farmwork has become second nature to me. I appreciate the invitation, but I’ll have to decline.”

“Is that so... A shame, but understandable. I stepped back from the front lines once I figured out desk work was second nature to me, so I’m not one to talk.” Elmore offered a friendly chuckle.

It was difficult to say Belgrieve did not have any lingering attachments to the adventuring life. But this was not where he belonged, he was sure of that.

○

Belgrieve and Angeline spent the next few days cleaning up the mansion, enjoying the city, and having sparring matches with soldiers and adventurers. Sasha, unable to participate due to her injuries, grit her teeth and endured it, though she did send Ashcroft into a panic when she tried to join in regardless.

Belgrieve found being treated as a hero rather disconcerting, but Angeline was used to it. Seeing his daughter carry herself with such cool composure, Belgrieve felt his daughter had completely surpassed him.

Their days in Bordeaux were fun and completely different from Turnera, but Belgrieve thought it was about time for him to go. He was growing weary, and he worried about his field. Oftentimes, he would wonder if the children would take advantage of his absence to enter the forest on their own.

While it was sad to part with Angeline and her friends, he knew she was able to stand on her own two feet. And of course, he did not intend this to be a lifelong parting.

With that said, the moment he said he was considering leaving, Angeline stuck to him and wouldn’t leave his side. Even as he packed his things, she remained clinging to his back, pushing her face into his back and his hair. The ticklish sensation of her breath across his hair and clothes was rather irritating.

“Ange.”

“Yes, dad?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m replenishing my fatherium supply.”

“What happens when you’re done?”

“I will be full of energy.”

“I see.”

He didn’t quite get it, but she sounded certain. In any case, this was not the first time Angeline had clung to him like this. With a conflicted smile on his face, he was about to give up when Miriam closed in on him.

“I’ll stock up on some Mr. Bellium too, then.”

“Hey now, not you too, Merry... I need to pack...”

The elixir’s effect had finally worn off, and his senses had realigned. Luckily, his joint and muscle pain had not returned, so it was less painful to have two girls hanging off him than it was troublesome how they prevented him from making any progress. They teased like children, but they were far larger than the kids he was used to dealing with.

Anessa watched the scene, an exasperated look on her face. “C’mon... If Mr. Bell is leaving, we should get on our way to Orphen too. Maybe you girls should start getting ready...”

“Hee hee, I know you’re just jealous...”

“Not being honest, are you Anne?”

“What?!” Anessa’s face flushed red, her mouth opening and closing blankly as Angeline and Miriam grinned at her.

Belgrieve sighed. “Anne’s got a point. Have you two finished your own packing?”

“I never had any luggage to begin with...”

“Packing light is fundamental to being an adventurer, Mr. Bell.”

“Hmm...”

They had a point. I guess I’m no match for active adventurers, Belgrieve mused. Even so, he finished up somehow or another. It wasn’t as if Belgrieve had very much to pack though; he had brought little more than his clothing, though he had bought a few things in Bordeaux in the meantime. These included a large sack of salt, and another of sugar, a few smaller pouches of spices, a strong distilled liquor, and cookware made from high-quality iron.

Bordeaux was a large city; it rested on the trade route to the northern reaches, and goods from all over were gathered there. Belgrieve couldn’t resist picking up the sort of goods that were either unobtainable in Turnera, or that the peddlers would attach a hefty price tag to. In short, he had bought plenty of souvenirs. Money was mostly unnecessary in Turnera, so he found himself splurging once he got the opportunity.

“Not that Ange’s much better...” Belgrieve muttered, recalling the mountain of gifts she had returned with. They took after one another in the strangest ways.

Belgrieve ended up with the horse and wagon Angeline had bought in Orphen, since the group had no use for either once back in the big city; they would at least see more use in Turnera. The girls traveled light and bought nothing to take back with them.

Soon the wagon was loaded, and he was ready to go. A simple letter delivery turned into something else altogether, he thought as he scratched his cheek.

Belgrieve had begun his preparations early in the morning, and it wasn’t yet noon. If he left now, he would be in the next town before sunset. Not that he had anything against camping out, but the nights were still chilly.

“All right... Off we go.” His shoulders made a cracking noise as he rolled them.

Angeline, Miriam, and Anessa, having finished their own preparations, saw him off. They would leave a short while later.

Sasha stood, borrowing Seren’s shoulder. Helvetica and Ashcroft were absent, perhaps too busy, while Elmore had returned to the guild.

“It’s unfortunate I couldn’t have a match with you, Master... Another time, for sure!”

“Please make sure you recuperate first.”

“He’s right. You should listen to him, Sash.” Seren tapped her sister on the shoulder as she bowed her head to Belgrieve. “You’ve done a lot for us, Sir Belgrieve. If you’re ever in the area, please feel free to stop by Bordeaux. You’re always welcome.”

“Thank you, Seren. I’ll be looking forward to that then.”

As he moved to board the wagon, Angeline hugged him. She pressed her face in hard, taking a deep whiff.

“Now, now.” Belgrieve patted her head. “You’ll always be daddy’s little girl, Ange.”

“Mmm... All right!” Angeline suddenly lifted her head. “I’ll do my best. I’ll work hard and be back by next fall.”

“Isn’t that too early?”

“It’s fine. I want to eat cowberries. Right?” she said, looking back at her party members. The two nodded.

“It was brief, but fun.”

“I’ll be back to play some more!”

Belgrieve smiled, reached out, and placed his hands on their heads. “Yes, think of it as your own home. I’ll be waiting.”

It took a while for that to sink in, but when it did, their cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

All of a sudden, he heard light but swift footsteps. He turned to see Helvetica, rather winded. Once she had reached him, she placed her hands on her knees, panting. The sweat on her brow added an unusual gloss to her bangs.

“G-Good...I made it in time...”

“H-Helvetica. You don’t have to come if you’re busy...”

“What are you saying? It would be a stain on the family name if I didn’t see off our benefactor.” She took a deep breath and smiled. “Come again. I’ll be waiting.”

“Thank you. It’s an honor to—” He was interrupted when a gentle, sweet scent permeated his nostrils as he felt something soft on his cheek. Belgrieve was taken aback.

With a mischievous laugh, Helvetica placed a finger to her lips.

“It was just the cheek this time... Who knows what will happen next time?”

“Please don’t tease me so much...”

Belgrieve scratched his head somewhat bashfully. Then he was tugged down by the lapels, and there Angeline was with a teary face.

“Dad...”

“A-Ange...”

“I knew it... It’s the breasts...”

“What are you talking about?”

It seemed as if a good moment had been ruined. Angeline growled to intimidate Helvetica while Helvetica chuckled to herself. The girls who watched were either a little red or grinning.

“Good grief.” Belgrieve sighed. “I’m leaving.”

“Yeah...”

Angeline let go, just like that. After gently patting his hand against her head a few more times, he hopped aboard the wagon. He urged the horse onward with the reins in hand.

“I’m off, dad!” Angeline shouted.

“I’ll be back!”

“S-See ya...!”

Miriam and Anessa joined in.

It’s almost like they’re the ones seeing me off, Belgrieve thought to himself. Still, he returned the call.

“Come home safe and sound!”

The carriage slowly pressed on. With a blue sky above, and a grass-scented wind caressing his cheek.