Point of Contact
Point of Contact
Once.
Just once, I chose not to dodge an attack I could have avoided cleanly. Instead I stepped deeper into range, forcibly broke his offensive, and launched a combination of my own.
I nearly took a blade in the thigh, but luckily it only grazed the skin. That much was nothing to worry about.
"Will you burst apart and die first, or will you drop your enhancement first?!"
"Graaaagh!"
The bastard was strong. But only a tiny bit stronger than me. And even that wasn't technical strength—it was just that his physical ability was somewhat stronger.
Which meant technique could make up the difference.
"Oraaaah!"
A familiar shout rang out behind me, followed by the floor shaking and a tremendous crash. I didn't need to turn around to know it was Yekaterina's war hammer. Since I hadn't heard that horrible bursting sound, it seemed none of the Demonfolk bastards had taken the hit. The clash of weapons that followed told me the others were fighting them, but I wasn't worried.
Because he hadn't tried to leave me and join his comrades in ganging up on the others.
He must have judged that if he half-assedly joined in, he'd end up in a situation where he'd have to protect them instead. Or worse, he'd concluded that their skill level wasn't just useless but would actually be a hindrance.
If that was the conclusion he'd reached, then I had no need to worry about the battle unfolding behind me. I pressed the bastard who'd dared to look away even harder.
"Looking away? You're looking away?! You've got time for that?! Do I look that fucking easy to you, you piece of shit?!"
"Ghk! Why did this have to happen now?!"
"If you've been pulling vile shit, you should be regretting why you did it, not blaming others!"
I'd have preferred to save even the energy I spent talking, but I had to look composed if I wanted to make him impatient. Between dodging his sword, keeping an eye on the mage bastard, and fighting him, I barely had enough attention to go around.
"But it's worth it, isn't it!"
"What the hell are you babbling about?!"
A blood vessel burst in the bastard's face. His movements as he blocked my attacks remained unchanged, but I could tell the same thing was beginning to happen all over his body.
And I could feel more than what my eyes showed me. Magic Power churned violently around him, and all five senses reacted to the vortex inside his body. Beyond the smell of blood, some indescribable scent stabbed at my nose, and even my tongue picked up a strange taste I'd never experienced before.
"It tastes purple! Looks like you're going to burst first!"
"Graaaagh! Maaaage!"
"It's over!"
What was over was the bastard's life!
The instant I heard the mage shout, my sword moved before I had even fully registered that the reckless enhancement threatening to burst my opponent apart had vanished.
My blade flew for his neck. His sword rose to block, but mine drove straight through the defense and reached its target because his enhancement had fallen away at exactly that split second.
But the strange feeling—as though something had been added on top of my five senses—didn't disappear with him. It spread throughout the chapel instead.
Ugh. I felt like I was going to get motion sickness.
"What the hell kind of dogshit situation is this..."
For a moment I wondered whether the mage bastard had done something to me, but beyond the alien sensation and dizziness, my body worked normally and none of my senses had dulled. If anything, whatever had changed made Magic Power feel even more vivid than usual.
It had reached the point where Magic Power looked almost like water taking shape in front of me.
"Eldmia! Are you alright!"
"Yes! I'm going for the mage!"
The fight was still going on behind me. I seemed to be seeing colors that shouldn't exist and smelling and tasting things I shouldn't be able to perceive, but that was all. So I picked up the sword dropped by the collapsing Demonfolk bastard and ran for the mage standing before the gate. My own blade had been battered so badly that I didn't know when it might break.
Fuck. There went the sword I'd made so many memories with.
"Geugh! I won't forget this!"
The arrogant little shit, about to die here and already babbling about next time! I was the one who ought to be nursing a grudge over my sword, damn it!
"Those are your last words, you son of a bitch!"
Six steps. Even with my enhancement pushed to its limit, that was the distance between us.
I prayed he couldn't pull some bullshit like chantless casting. After two steps, I felt Magic Power gathering in his hands. Fortunately it wasn't chantless—he was chanting, but so fast it sounded like rap.
Some of the Magic Power spread through the chapel like tangled threads began winding into his hands, making my already chaotic senses even more disorienting.
"Seriously, what next—whoa, fuck, you startled me!"
One strand of Magic Power, thicker than the others, brushed past me. I reflexively swung my sword at it. The strand had been drifting at about the speed of a falling leaf, but the moment I cut it, it shot into the mage's hand like an arrow. Even with my enhanced senses, it moved so fast that I knew there was no reacting to it normally.
-BOOM!
"Uwaaagh?!"
And just like that, an explosion erupted and the bastard's spell failed.
"Wh-what is this?"
The result was so obvious I didn't even have time to doubt my eyes, and I almost forgot to keep running. Had I just cut apart a spell while it was still being formed?
"I-impossible. What kind of trick is this?!"
"I want to ask the same thing! What did I just do?"
I shouted as I took two more steps forward. Hoping he'd be panicked enough not to think of escaping through that gate.
Judging by his expression, which still held bewilderment, it seemed possible. But seeing the terror layered on top of it, maybe not.
"D-dammit!"
The spell he'd been trying to cast was probably only meant to hold me off for a moment. That'd explain the third-rate-villain line. Either way, more concerned with how quickly I was closing the distance, he turned toward the gate without hesitation. It was right in front of him, and that movement alone was enough for half his body to begin disappearing through it.
Was it safe to follow him?
The Demonfolk had tried to stabilize the gate without hesitation.
Because there were allies on the other side? Because he could escape? For that to be viable, there had to be enough forces on the other side to handle us even if we followed them through the gate.
In other words, there might be unidentified Demonfolk waiting on the other side in entire units.
But stabilizing the gate had taken this long. Wouldn't that mean they also couldn't close it the instant I appeared?
Once that thought occurred to me, I didn't hesitate and jumped through the gate after him.
A bizarre sensation swept over my entire body, like every fine hair on my skin had suddenly grown and stretched in all directions. In the space of a blink, I realized it wasn't my body hair at all. It was my Magic Power.
Countless strands created the illusion that I was moving through an immense sheet of fabric. Fabric? Maybe it felt more like water. My oversensitized perception was interpreting Magic Power that way.
A moment no longer than an instant felt like an eternity. When I sensed the far side of the gate approaching, I finally shouted in irritation and swung my sword.
"Fuck, this is disorienting!"
The hand and sword that emerged ahead of the rest of my body met definite resistance. I'd aimed by instinct based on the mage's height, and the feeling was unmistakably like cutting through the other bastards' necks.
But the moment I emerged fully from the gate and saw the bastard's corpse, I was stunned before I could even celebrate the success. Honestly, just not panicking outright was an achievement.
"Whoa... what the hell is that."
Spread out before my eyes were countless Demonfolk staring at the gate, and beyond them, an unidentified sphere.
Something ominous seemed trapped inside an enormous glass orb whose shape was difficult to call stable or complete. Maybe my senses were simply malfunctioning, but just as when the mage bastard whose head I'd just taken had been casting his spell, I could feel the surrounding Magic Power flowing toward that sphere.
I realized instinctively that that thing was what they'd been trying to transport through the gate.
"A-a member of the Human Race!"
"Capture him! The plan's gone awry!"
The moment the order came down—I had no idea who gave it—dozens of Demonfolk, by a rough count, started charging at me. But in the chaos, a few positioned themselves protectively in front of that mysterious giant sphere, blocking it off.
I didn't know much else, but one thing was certain: that thing was also something that would explode, just like the spell earlier.
"Wrong! It's not me you bastards need to capture!"
I didn't know whether it'd work, but I shouted while slashing at the strands of Magic Power flowing in around me. Just as before, every strand I cut snapped toward the sphere. It was a little disappointing that they passed straight through the Demonfolk without doing anything to them.
With that thought, I reversed my grip on the sword and drew back as if to throw a javelin. Horror spread across the faces of the Demonfolk charging me.
Proof that my judgment was correct.
"Don't forget—if you mess with Little Eldmia, you're absolutely fucked!"
Hurled with everything I had, the blade split not just the air but the head of a Demonfolk bastard in its path clean in half as it flew toward the sphere.
The moment the sword left my hand, the Demonfolk bastards who'd been rushing me scattered in every direction, screaming. That reaction promised an extremely bad result, so I threw myself toward the gate without looking back.
Or rather, I tried to.
The explosion happened faster than my decision and hurled me into the gate—that was the only reason I couldn't do it myself.