Hero
Hero
Since shamanism wasn't a field Asilie knew much about either, everything I'd learned had come from books I'd read while constantly haunting the Ogatorf family library.
That it was an ability manifested by offering the living and the dead as payment, and that while the results it produced took forms quite different from magic, they ultimately manifested in the shape of Magic Power—that was about the extent of it.
Because the price was most often something equivalent to a full life, shamanism was simple yet powerful. The fact that even those brainless orcs could manage anti-air defense with their shamans said it all.
I hadn't been able to figure out exactly how the miraculous exchange of converting corpses or souls into Magic Power actually worked, but since the principle wasn't particularly important to me, I'd glossed over it at the time.
What mattered was that it was a technique that was simple and powerful, and correspondingly high-risk.
If you cast an offensive curse using a soul as a medium, the grudge that soul carried would backlash against the caster, and there was no telling what abnormal symptoms might arise. The larger the scale of the ritual, the more sacrifices had to be paid as the price, so it wasn't uncommon for the caster to have to stake their own life.
It might look like a good way to achieve results in a short period, but in the long term it was ultimately no different from eating your own flesh, which was why the common races didn't use it much.
Even the shamanism practiced by the beastmen, who could be called the race where it was most prevalent, wasn't the kind that invited grudges through attacks or curses. It was closer to a form of self-protection, beseeching the aid of virtuous ancestral spirits, purely hoping for the well-being of their descendants or wishing to safeguard them.
But orcs were different.
They fed souls into their workings without hesitation for destruction and foresight, and the resulting power was so formidable that even the wyvern knights, who were the pride of the kingdom, couldn't withstand it fully intact. Naturally, everyone knew the orcs couldn't remain unscathed repeating such acts, but with no way of knowing how many shamans lurked among thousands of orcs, they couldn't simply charge in blindly. And if they slipped up and lost even a single wyvern doing so, the disgrace would be beyond utter humiliation.
A quick hit-and-fade was a different matter, of course. Even if the wyvern knights couldn't land an effective hit, as long as they could split the orcs' attention, I could handle the rest myself.
Because they understood that clearly, Heiri and the other wyvern knights, who had returned late at night, received their briefing from Duke Lesrom, and immediately decided to join the plan, showed not the slightest anxiety about their own safety.
Ragnis and Yekaterina had already returned to their own lodgings, so I'd tried to usher them inside, but they politely declined. As a result, when we held our brief tactical discussion outside the tent, the only thing they displayed was confidence.
"Are you truly alright with this?"
But unlike before, their attitude showed genuine concern for my safety. It seemed they'd been deeply impressed—I hadn't just held my ground before the orcs, I'd even racked up significant achievements.
When the wyvern knights, with whom I'd never exchanged a word aside from Heiri, declared I was the very model of a knight and offered handshakes first, it honestly gave me a bit of a chill.
"Not everything will go according to plan, but I believe the possibility is more than sufficient."
I answered appropriately, thinking that if I said something pointless like 'it's a job someone has to do,' it would only make things more awkward, yet for some reason the gazes turned my way were still burdensome.
After that, the final notification came that the operation was set to begin at the hour of dawn. I saw the wyvern knights off as they withdrew with perfect courtesy, and the moment I stepped back inside, Asilie fixed me with a dagger-sharp glare.
"Even the wyvern knights, who know more about wyverns than anyone, heard Eldi's plan and asked if he'd be alright."
When I'd wondered why, it turned out she'd been deeply unsettled by what her sharp elven ears had picked up. I couldn't ignore that, and I couldn't pretend not to know what she was feeling, so I had no choice but to answer with a grin.
"When it comes to jumping off wyverns, wouldn't you say I'm more of an expert?"
In a world that didn't even have the concept of airborne units, no one would willingly leap from a wyvern unless their aim was suicide, after all.
The moment I said it, I had to take a hit to the shoulder.
After that, I chatted and joked a little with Asilie to ease what little tension remained before drifting off—only to open my eyes while it was still dark, the dawn not yet broken.
Just in case, I strained my ears, but only silence flowed around me. The only sounds that reached me now and then were the crackling of nearby torches burning and the low, humming drone of the Magic Power heater running at the center of the tent. The thought flickered through my mind that maybe I'd woken because I'd tensed up without realizing it, but my head and body both felt far too refreshed for that.
But then, I'd spent three days sprawled out sleeping, so of course my condition was good. Sleep didn't seem to be coming anytime soon, so I rose carefully so as not to wake Asilie. As I wrapped around myself a thick fur coat, issued free like the tent, Laika, who had been sleeping obliviously at my feet, stirred faintly and lifted its head.
[Master? Going out?]
"Just going to get some air. Go back to sleep."
Just stroking Laika's head once was enough for the creature to slowly close its eyes again, which I found absurd. Laika didn't even need sleep in the first place, and yet slept so damn well.
Leaving Laika behind, I lifted the tent flap and stepped outside. A cold wind, strong enough to shame the torch burning in front of the tent, blew in to greet me. It had been a long while since the night watch had last passed by—most of the firewood was burnt and crumbling, but the embers hadn't weakened—yet the pre-dawn air was impossible to ignore.
So I had to take off on a wyvern before this air could even warm up, was that it? It looked like I'd be asking the spirit for a sliver of warmth again this time without fail, I thought, rubbing my forearm once. Belatedly, I realized that something in my body had subtly changed.
The problem was, even after becoming aware of it, I was on the fence about what had changed and how.
The day I'd woken had passed in such a frantic blur that I'd had no chance to actively use Magic Power, but the Magic Organ that had settled into my body and the Magic Power naturally flowing through it had definitely changed from before I'd lost consciousness. If I'd noticed a little sooner, I could have had a consultation with Seneran. A damn shame.
"Hmm, it's probably nothing to worry about...?"
It didn't feel like a bad thing, after all. When my Magic Organ had formed, the Magic Power had burrowed more tightly between my muscles, and now—how should I put it—it felt like it was riding my blood vessels. Just in case, I moved my body a little and tried using Magic Sight, but I didn't get the sense that anything had been enhanced.
It had just... become more comfortable, in ways I was only dimly aware of. Both in terms of efficiency, and in terms of handling.
For someone who might have to pull a superhero landing right in the middle of the enemy ranks, that was truly welcome news. Satisfied, I savored the pre-dawn air a little longer before crawling back into bed.
Even if sleep wouldn't come, there was no need to drain my energy early. A wave of regret washed over me—had I only sharpened my senses pointlessly by exposing myself to the cold air?—but paradoxically, enveloped in the peculiar satisfaction of pulling warm blankets over myself like running an air conditioner in summer, I slipped into sleep far more easily.
◈
What woke me from that pleasant pre-dawn slumber was, most unhappily, the otherworldly wake-up bugle.
-Baba-ba-bam! Baba-ba-bam!
"Fuuuuck..."
It wasn't that I was tired. The moment I heard it, my mind was razor sharp, but my mood was infinitely foul. I crawled out of bed cursing the fact that even this other world had a goddamn wake-up bugle, and my eyes landed on Asilie, who had flipped her pillow over her head to muffle the noise.
"Humans... there are so many things I cannot understand about them..."
It couldn't have been her first time hearing that sound, but every single time she looked like she was in genuine agony, and just thinking about it made my heart ache for her. Asilie pulled herself together at a markedly faster pace than usual and staggered to her feet. Watching her, I made a firm resolution to definitely put this to use at home later, then gathered my equipment.
When I emerged from the tent, contrary to our negative and sour reaction to the bugle, the encampment was already running at high alert. Perhaps because there wasn't anything like a formal morning roll call, the adventurers, private soldiers, and mercenaries all set about their own battle preparations without assembling anywhere.
This time, I followed Asilie and ate breakfast among the crowd lining up for their rations, but no one overreacted like yesterday.
All eyes focused on me for a brief moment, but only to that extent. They continued their meals in silence, sending me their expectations and encouragement with their eyes alone, proving they weren't just a disorganized mob. After finishing my meal in satisfaction, I was free to move out and link up with Heiri.
"Is it fine to leave without seeing the others?"
"The battle'll be over soon enough, we'll see them right after anyway."
"...I suppose so. I'll join Ragnis and help out today as well. I'll do my best to thin their numbers on this end, so you'd better run well, understood?"
"Mere orcs can't stop me. Don't worry."
I saw Asilie off—forcing a casual smile as she walked away—and Laika at her side. Once I'd moved on, it wasn't long before the tension began to creep back up little by little.
The closer I got to where the wyverns were gathered, the heavier the surrounding gazes grew.
Since this wasn't a war between humans, there was no need to move in secret, so it seemed they'd advertised today's operation on a grand scale. Just the fact that I was going to smash the tunnel those endless enemies were pouring out of was enough to send morale soaring, and at the same time, the expectations loaded onto my shoulders were doubling by the moment.
I had no intention of failing, but the pressure was getting to me all the same.
"Welcome, Sir Ega. It is an honor to undertake today's operation alongside you."
The wyvern knights' overwhelming reception, embodying that effect more viscerally than anyone else, nearly made me laugh in disbelief, but I made a point of grinning cheerfully as I spoke.
"Thank you for your cooperation. Well then... let's go shut the door."