Cockroach
Cockroach
'Eldmia. Listen up, because I'm only explaining this since you clearly haven't got a fucking clue how strange what you're doing is.'
As I descended the passage and felt the darkness gradually brighten upon reaching the enchanted area, what came to mind was Seneran's nagging that had made me late in the first place.
'Magic-Armament Alloy is a magic tool in and of itself. It's a material created specifically to react to Magic Power. You layering Magic Power on top of it or launching it into the air—that's shocking enough on its own, but it's still the kind of thing that's theoretically within the realm of possibility.'
When I'd come down almost all the way, I hopped down lightly and scanned my surroundings. They were silent. I couldn't feel any unusual signs beyond the echo typical of caves, so I pulled out a needle, scratched a mark indicating I'd headed down the left passage, and moved on.
'But using Magic Power to directly intervene with another person or object is a completely different problem.'
In my memory, Seneran wore an expression of incomparable seriousness. My teacher had worn the same look, so I could guess well enough that her words weren't wrong. But guessing and understanding were different things. I'd had no choice but to react like I'd just been told that "one plus one" was different from "1 + 1."
'...Why is it different?'
My question, which had sprung to mind because even a regular sword could handle Magic Power to some degree—the only difference being durability—didn't make Seneran close her eyes or smack her forehead like I was the world's biggest idiot. Instead, she'd thought it over with an endlessly serious attitude and found an example even I could understand.
'You know that the human body is mostly made of water, right?'
'Yeah, well... I know that.'
'So why can't people who use water-attribute magic manipulate the water inside a human body?'
'...Huh?'
The process of examining the tracks in the passage, distinguishing recent ones from old, and checking for any markers left by the rebels was quiet. In the stillness I hadn't experienced in a very long time, I tracked as my body had been trained to do while mulling over the last piece of advice Seneran had given me.
'That's the best example I could come up with for you to understand, and honestly, even that's insufficient. I'll explain it properly when you get back, so for now, absolutely do not use that where anyone else can see.'
'If a demon shows up, I'm gonna have to use it no matter what...'
'Eeek! Then at the very least, don't use it in front of wizards or clergy! That's not something you can pass off as a trick like the needles!'
For a moment, I'd wondered if I could just pretend it was some kind of supersonic quick-draw technique and make it sound plausible, but I hadn't said it out loud. Not only was it clear that if I watched Seneran have a fit any longer, being five minutes late would be the least of my problems, but I also didn't want to react with some boomer-ass mindset of dismissing an expert's nagging. Though, I didn't know if I could fully follow Seneran's advice. Right now, the Imperial Divine Council's saintess and that mage Eselua were planted firmly in my vicinity, and if my memory was right, the 4th and 5th ranks were mages too.
In the end, in a situation where I had no choice but to move alone, I found myself praying to Epaga, asking her to at least let me quickly slaughter every last one of the demon-connected bastards and get it over with—and that was when a fresh-looking track caught my eye.
"Hmm... looking at how it's still damp, seems like it's theirs."
The clumsy shoe-shaped dirt footprints were wet even considering this was underground. Were they digging some kind of burrow? Unless part of the underground waterway had collapsed, there was no reason to be wandering around with muddy feet like this, which struck me as more than a little odd.
But separate from my head falling into contemplation, my body had already readied itself to draw a sword easily, and I followed the barely visible tracks.
I'd just figure it out when I caught up.
◈
When she'd first set foot in the underground waterway, Sheryl had honestly thought the Imperial Divine Council's saintess wouldn't be much help. She'd been trembling like a leaf the whole time and looked so precarious that, even if she was a member of the Hero's party, faith simply wouldn't come. On top of that, the Hero had maintained a consistently indifferent attitude and hadn't even bothered to have them exchange names, so Sheryl was currently operating without knowing a single one of her party members' names.
Asking first was awkward too, since the other party happened to be a saintess and a member of the Hero's party. Grumbling to herself that noble etiquette—where the lower-status party couldn't ask first unless the higher-status party did—was a massive pain in the ass, Sheryl kept a particularly close watch on the noticeably anxious saintess.
But contrary to her expectations, the saintess was an extraordinarily peculiar figure.
"This way. I sense an ominous energy."
She trembled like an aspen leaf, terrified of something, yet never hesitated in her actions and fully performed her role, including keeping watch in every direction. If anything, judging by skill alone, she was better than the nameless 4th and 6th ranks. Was she unexpectedly used to this kind of work? It didn't take long for the saintess, whom Sheryl had initially regarded as little more than a portable healing potion, to start looking like a normal person.
"It's... extremely faint. At the same time, it's spreading in multiple directions. Could they be preparing a summoning circle?"
But then the moment she heard that trembling voice, whatever little faith Sheryl had built up seemed to melt softly away. Still, what mattered was that she could do her job, so Sheryl decided not to mind. The elf, who'd paused to think at the saintess's question, answered.
"I think they've been too pressed for time to prepare something like that. They only just got chased here by us, right? Wouldn't it make more sense to assume they have some other ulterior motive?"
The answer from the elf, who wore light armor for maximum mobility and carried a longsword and shield, was certainly reasonable—but it was also an opinion that overlooked Envelde, who was entangled in so many incidents. Sheryl thought that if those demon worshipers had made some kind of deal with Envelde, it wouldn't be strange at all if they'd prepared some kind of dark sorcery to sow chaos when the rebellion began.
Sheryl had been debating whether it was okay to discuss such matters with two people who were, after all, from another country—even if they were the Hero's party—but she shook her head briefly and spoke to them.
"If they joined hands with the dead rebels, there's a possibility they prepared something in advance. The conditions would have been optimal for sowing chaos during the rebellion, after all."
She wasn't comfortable discussing the kingdom's internal affairs, but things had already come this far, and worrying about that now felt a bit late. She also disliked the idea of withholding information for her own convenience as the one receiving help and wasting everyone's time, so Sheryl coordinated opinions a few more times afterward, correcting points the other two had missed.
It wasn't something she'd intended, but as a result, Sheryl's evaluation in the eyes of those two rose considerably.
"In these chaotic times brought by the Demonfolk, to think someone might have tried to join hands with actual demons and start a rebellion... it's truly horrifying."
"Selfish greed is always like that. Come to think of it, you seem close to Sir Eldmia. Do you know him well?"
'...Sir?'
At the unexpected title, Sheryl tilted her head for a moment and looked at the elf, but the elf just waited for an answer, showing no sign that she found her own wording odd. What was this?
"...Yes, he lived as a member of our household for about two years."
She gauged the reaction as she answered, but the elf just gave a brief "oh, I see" and showed no particular interest. Thinking that maybe the elf was an acquaintance of Asilie's and used the honorific out of respect for her, Sheryl decided to focus on following the saintess's continuing directions.
Even though it was an unremarkable underground waterway, it was a space that made her feel unpleasant for no reason. She'd occasionally entered dungeons with Eldmia for adventurer requests, but even the musty, filthy goblin dens hadn't been this unpleasant. She turned her head, but the 4th and 6th ranks, still maintaining their vigilance, showed no sign of feeling anything.
"Saintess? I'm getting a strangely heavy and unpleasant feeling in the air..."
The unpleasantness slithered up so intensely that she was unconsciously getting irritated. She brought it up to the saintess, and an unexpected reaction came back.
"Yo-you must have exceptionally sharp senses. Please wait just a moment."
The moment the startled saintess offered a brief prayer in the style of the Imperial Divine Council, the unpleasantness vanished as if it had been a lie, and Sheryl was so shocked she forgot to even manage her expression. The saintess, seeing her like that, gave a small smile and twirled her index finger in the empty air as she explained.
"Occasionally, there are people who react sensitively to the presence of demon worshipers. It's not dangerous, and it's not a curse, but it's extremely grating."
"...It causes no actual harm, but it's this unpleasant. I feel like I'm getting the short end of the stick."
"It's because you aren't used to it. Some of the holy knights have that sense as well. They say that once you get used to it, you perceive it in a different way that stimulates the five senses, and the unpleasantness drastically decreases."
Having never imagined she'd feel such a sensation in her life, Sheryl was thrown off for a moment—and in that moment, the elf, who had been watching Sheryl with an equally curious look, suddenly clapped her hand over the saintess's mouth.
"We've got company."
That one small word was all it took for everyone to grasp the situation and lower their stances. The elf quickly took her hand off the saintess, and as her ears twitched reactively, everyone waited with even their breathing silenced. Then a complaint slipped out of the elf's small mouth.
"Damn it. I can make out two of them chattering, but I can't get a read on the rest."
"W-well, that's why you should've trained properly. Why on earth would an elf not learn elven techniques that other people would pay money and still never get taught..."
The anticlimactic exchange made Sheryl entertain the thought that maybe the flaw lay with the elf, not the saintess, as she drew her sword.
"Saintess. Can you tell if there are any demons?"
"Ah, no. There are no demons. Given that the demon worshiper energy feels distant, it's highly likely they're a group of rebels."
"Then I'll advance first. Please provide cover."
"Pardon? B-but it could be danger—"
"It's not dangerous."
In truth, she didn't even need the cover, but she'd said it only because charging out alone seemed rude.
Sheryl wasn't such a pushover that she'd lose to students who weren't even professors.