Irreverence
Irreverence
Asilie held no particular ill will toward the Demon King's Army.
Her thinking was similar to that of other elves, so to her, the war between the Human Race and Demonfolk was merely one of countless wars that had existed throughout history. Without divine intervention, the Balance couldn't be set right, so it just seemed a bit larger in scale.
If anything, she even had room for a tiny sliver of gratitude, as the Demon King's Army might be one of the reasons she, who had nearly been sold into slavery, was now standing here.
She probably would have held that much goodwill, had she never become entangled with Eldmia.
Which was the same as saying, because she was entangled with Eldmia, she was prepared to coldly and calculatingly 'hunt' without a shred of goodwill or ill will.
The moment a faint noise reached Asilie's ears as she calmed her mind and waited for a signal in the trees, her hands moved to cast a spirit art.
The help from spirits whose main stage was winter was still available, it just wasn't as good as having forest spirits help shorten the distance. And the help she needed from spirits to shoot her bow was sufficiently provided by just two types.
Spirits of wind and water. According to her will, the spirits began to shave down the ice rapidly forming in the air, carving something into shape.
The minor technique, mastered and refined solely by the northern elves where seasonal change was practically nonexistent, instantly produced two reasonably shaped lenses, and Asilie floated the ice-made lens in front of her left eye, scrutinizing the direction from which the sound had come to observe the enemy.
It was a skill she hadn't had the chance to use since arriving in Itisel, but it was a task she had done so often that the phrase 'could do it blindfolded' fit perfectly, so there were no issues with distance adjustment or accuracy. Compared to a lens made of glass, there were more than one or two shortcomings, but she didn't need that level of performance anyway.
As long as she could accurately distinguish her targets, the rest was up to her bow skills and spirit arts. Fortunately, she found the enemy quickly.
"Six... no, about five hundred."
It had been a long time since she'd done such long-range sniping, but she wasn't worried. Asilie took a deep breath, drew her bowstring back, calculated the flight distance and time, and released the string right around the moment the enemy would have a foot into the trapped zone.
Unlike the cleanly shot arrow, the wind blowing strongly wasn't very satisfying, but that was fine. She was getting help from a wind spirit to correct the resulting deviations.
But judging that it wouldn't hit its intended target's neck, she quickly shot two more arrows.
As she predicted, the first arrow deflected sideways and struck a Demon King soldier's shoulder, and the two arrows that followed, aimed at the target whose stance had been greatly disrupted, were unfortunately deflected by the swords of others nearby.
"...!"
Sporadic shouts echoed dimly. The sound was soon buried under the roaring explosions of Holy Arts, and Asilie watched her companions projecting Holy Arts toward the Demon King's Army, her mind wandering for a moment.
The heresy inquisitors and the saintess were also manifesting Holy Arts, but only Eldmia's took a distinctly different form.
The Holy Arts of the clergy, designed for ranged attacks, uniformly took the shape of weapons. The only difference was whether they were spears, arrows, or swords—their essence was the same.
But the Holy Art Eldmia was using now was far removed from such forms. It was breathtaking to watch him create something like a sphere of light, minimized in size, then throw it with extreme precision, weaving it past or over obstacles to detonate it.
"A hero..."
When she'd first met him, he had seemed incredibly extraordinary, but living with him over time, Eldmia was actually a bit distanced from the word 'extraordinary.'
Of course, the talent he displayed in various areas and his unpredictable drive could be called extraordinary enough, but in daily life, he leaned more toward the ordinary.
He laughed ordinarily, enjoyed things ordinarily, got angry ordinarily, and read the room ordinarily. If one assumed he was about ten or twenty years older than he appeared now, he might have become a bit more ordinary in every way.
The only peculiar thing was that unbelievably bold decisiveness. Asilie still couldn't forget the shock she felt when she heard he had jumped from a wyvern bare-handed, based on the idea that higher altitude was actually safer.
Eldmia had surprisingly many sides like that. As if he'd done it many times before. Or as if he had already 'seen or heard' the results. He acted as if there was no danger at all, and actually produced results to match. Until now, she'd chalked it all up to part of the extraordinary nature she couldn't understand...
But the talk of him being a hero changed her premise.
"A being from another world... was it."
Among the heroes that existed throughout the continent's history, there were occasional records of those who came from entirely different worlds, or beings from another world residing in the body of someone living in this mortal realm.
Perhaps Eldmia was of that sort as well?
But then, he was also oddly pious, and from the moment he met the saintess of the Demon God Church, he began serving the Demon God Epaga without any hesitation, so it was a distinct possibility.
Thinking this, she sequentially loosed the three arrows she had held in her hand. The sound of the bowstring snapping back gave the illusion of clearing her head as well.
It had unsettled her, but it was ultimately irrelevant. Not that she didn't feel a bit of regret that he hadn't revealed that story to her, but in hindsight, she might not have believed it even if he had told her.
Perhaps once he'd grown a little older, he'd also been too embarrassed by his past actions to talk about them.
He would probably answer if she asked seriously once this battle was over. Asilie watched an arrow lodge precisely in the shoulder of a Demon King soldier confronting Eldmia, and Eldmia cleanly blow off the neck of the enemy who recoiled from it. Without even looking back, he raised his left fist above his head and gave a thumbs-up. She smiled softly and murmured.
"Asilie gets a chance."
If her guess was correct, she had a very, very long list of things she needed to hear from him.
The meaning behind those incomprehensible actions he occasionally showed, and the excuses for the way he had acted to pretend to be a mere child.
◈
Asilie's sniping and traps boasted a viciousness that surpassed my expectations, turning the tide of the battle.
It wasn't that I hadn't heard about using spirits to enhance traps, but I hadn't imagined it would be to this degree. She'd claimed she wouldn't be much help in a direct fight against the Demonfolk, but that was a total act.
The numbers killed by her sniping or by the traps weren't huge.
Out of the thirteen enemies excluding the mage, only four were dead. But that wasn't due to a lack of lethality; it was because that bastard of a mage flying around in the rear responded damn fast.
Except for the one who got impaled by a stake at the very start, he blocked most of the traps at the last possible moment, so there was no room to doubt his skill. He even went as far as to block the needles I sent to check him, while occasionally casting attack magic. Without him, I was certain half the Demon King's Army would be dead by now.
One of the Demon King soldiers even charged at me with desperate resolve to buy time and block my harassment. But thanks to Asilie's support fire, he was dealt with quickly, which actually gave me enough breathing room to attempt retrieving the axe I'd left idle.
Ah, but first, let's disrupt that dual-axe bastard.
"Rraaugh! Another bizarre trick!"
The axe of this fucker who dared to try and throw axes at the saintess was made of Magic-Armament Alloy even down to the handle, just like Water Buffalo Horn's javelin. So pouring Magic Power into it was easy. The difference was that this bastard didn't give up his weapon easily, and he had the strength to back that up.
Even when I pulled on it with the intent to steal it outright, the bastard wouldn't let go of his axes even if his body was dragged along.
"Fucker, you're not just wearing that captain rank for show, are you?"
"You goddamn fuck! I'll kill you first!"
I had a vague feeling it wouldn't be pretty on the temper front, and sure enough, it was. After his attacks were interrupted about three times, his eyes rolled back in fury and he came charging at me. I forced myself to grin.
This one's Magic Power capacity was pretty intense too. Though not on Water Buffalo Horn's level.
"What are you, some kind of... dual-axe hurler named Carnival or something?"
"It's Kadabal, you shit!"
He charged right through the rotten wood and snowdrifts in his way as if they were nothing, swinging his axes from completely different angles as he closed in.
"This fucker? Got a rag stuffed in your mouth?"
Despite his foul mouth, his movements were anything but ordinary. Even while charging in like he'd lost his mind with rage, his stance wasn't disturbed in the slightest, and his gaze revealed absolutely nothing about where he was about to attack. Not only was the timing different, but I could see him subtly adjusting the path of his axes to match my movements, so it was highly likely this bastard wasn't just fighting with two axes; he could operate each hand independently.
"I don't introduce myself to bastards who are about to die."
"Fuck! You!"
Not forgetting to coat the hand axes of this guy—who seemed as threatening as his Magic Power capacity suggested—with my own Magic Power, I too swung my sword toward him.