Wave (5)
Was it because the Great Sage had stepped onto the field himself? A considerable number of black mages had already infiltrated the Cradle, catching my eye at every turn.
Yet most of them seemed strangely dazed, their movements dull and mechanical. Part of that was likely because they were already dead—reanimated as mindless undead—but it was far more likely due to Olga Hermod's illusion magic, which still blanketed the entirety of the Cradle.
Which meant, in short...
“Hup!”
“Guh-aakh!”
Even someone like me didn't need much effort to cut them down. With a single sweep of my blade wrapped in sword aura, most enemies collapsed before they could even react. Was this what the world looked like through the eyes of the strong? To be honest, I kind of liked it.
Of course, the truly strong was someone else entirely. Case in point: the guy currently slinging waves of sword aura right beside me. Personally, I firmly believe anyone who holds a sword and resorts to ranged attacks is a cowardly bastard. Why fight so dirty when you could face your opponent fair and square with honest swordsmanship...?
“Senior! Shall I carve a path through here?”
“Do it right now!”
At my shout, Dietrich immediately unleashed a massive slash, mowing down everything in front of us.
Convenient, I had to admit.
“Damn, you really are something.”
“You're already manifesting sword aura yourself, Senior! Considering your talent, that's an incredible feat in its own right!”
Wait, is he subtly roasting me for having no talent? Or am I just being paranoid?
That aside, the sword aura wasn't something I generated on my own—it was entirely thanks to Emily's invention. Asking her for it had definitely been the right call. Getting battered and nearly breaking every bone in my body had actually yielded something useful. You really never knew how things would turn out in life.
“Senior, over that way...”
Dietrich, running ahead, suddenly turned his head.
Whoosh!
An unpleasant breeze grazed my cheek. A sudden chill gripped my entire body, sending goosebumps rippling down my spine. I didn't need Dietrich to finish his sentence to know what he meant.
“...Yeah. Looks like he's over there.”
A deathly aura this suffocating could only belong to Charybdis.
“Then I'll break through immediately, Senior. Stay right behind me!”
“Thanks.”
“Don't mention it!”
Dietrich let out a hearty laugh as he swung his sword in relentless succession. In a way, this guy might be the single best connection I had. Compared to the brats who never listened and spouted lies around the clock, he was an absolute saint.
Yuna had been tracking Charybdis's movements for some time—ever since he was still outside the Cradle.
She had blended seamlessly among the throng of black mages. Her demeanor was so casual and natural that not a single one suspected her. Concealed beneath nothing more than a black hooded robe, she lingered around Charybdis's periphery.
What is he thinking? What purpose drives him now?
Just as those thoughts crossed her mind, Yuna saw it.
Ah...
She watched Charybdis shatter the gates of the Cradle with a single spell. To unleash that one devastating blow, he had swallowed and annihilated everything in his surroundings.
It was an atrocity impossible to associate with the true Charybdis—a man who had perpetually suffered under the crushing guilt of every life he had been forced to take.
When the wave of death engulfed the Cradle, Yuna retreated as far as she could. Getting caught in it was one danger, but drawing too close risked discovery. Her instincts proved right. Had she maintained her original distance when the Great Sage appeared, she undoubtedly would have been exposed.
It was Yuna's first time seeing the Great Sage. The true form of the monster spoken of only in rumors was seared vividly into her eyes.
He's cycling...
He was circulating an entire lifetime. With every step he took, he crossed between life and death; with every stride, he shifted between youth and old age. He was an entity that perpetually cycled through the lifespan of a human being.
His appearance stirred the surrounding air, prompting Olga Hermod to step forward herself. Possessing an eye even sharper than Yuna's, she immediately detected the abnormality within the Great Sage.
“You are...”
As a fellow Archmage, she could see through to his true identity—beyond the mere title of Great Sage.
“Could it be that you are...”
She realized that the man known as the Great Sage was the very same being once hailed as the greatest Archmage in history. The greatest Archmage.
“...To think you were Faust himself.”
That was also the title granted to the one who had created magic's most fundamental spell. The mage who crafted Fireball. What supernatural trait had he possessed?
Looking upon a spell as simple as Fireball, ordinary people assumed that while the Archmage who created it was undeniably the greatest, his innate trait must have been extraordinarily simple—perhaps merely the ability to ignite a flame.
Yet Olga Hermod, standing in the same realm of Archmages, understood the true essence of his creation. A fireball was magic that shaped flame into a massive sphere. A tiny spark spun continuously, drawing circles until it formed a sphere. The crucial element was not the fire. It was the power to shape that sphere.
“Hmm. Then let us fulfill our promise first. Go on ahead, Charybdis.”
“...Thank you, Great Sage.”
Faust, the Great Sage, barred Olga Hermod's path so that Charybdis could enter the Cradle first.
Despite his blatant interference, Olga Hermod could not make a reckless move. The monster before her was once hailed as the greatest Archmage of all. His innate trait, 'Circulation,' no longer merely traced simple circles; it drew the very loop of life itself, cycling between existence and death. If so, was anything truly impossible for him?
“Wise.”
“...”
Olga Hermod sensed it intuitively. Faust was capable of rewinding even magic that had already been cast back to its state prior to invocation. In an instant, he could dismantle every spell woven across the Cradle. To prevent that, she had no choice but to focus all her senses on him. The Great Sage's mere presence was enough to hold Olga Hermod in place, and that alone seemed more than sufficient. Unable to dismantle the magic she had cast over the Cradle, she was rendered powerless before the Great Sage.
Yet even for the Great Sage, there were factors beyond his control—and knowing that was precisely why he had stepped forward in person.
“I finally get to see the Great Sage in the flesh, after hearing so many rumors.”
A girl in a wide-brimmed witch's hat descended as though walking on steps of thin air, her snow-white hair fluttering in the breeze.
“Indeed, Ariel. What are your thoughts, now that you see me in person?”
KRA-BOOOM!
Crimson lightning crashed from the heavens, and red roses blossomed across the earth. Standing atop those trampled roses was a red-haired woman, her fists clenched and her vivid yellow eyes glaring daggers at the Great Sage.
“Hmm...”
Faust gazed into the distance—toward a vantage point far too remote to be seen with the naked eye. Yet he could sense that something was there. A sniper patiently watching for an opening with a drawn bowstring. He could feel that chilling gaze fixed upon him.
“Honestly, you give off an utterly repulsive presence,” Ariel remarked.
“Agreed,” Lobelia chimed in. “Stan way out there is probably thinking the exact same thing.”
To confront these individuals, the Great Sage had no choice but to step forward in person. Against them, almost no one else would stand a chance. Thus, he had calculated that this was the most economical route.
“It seems all the protagonists have finally gathered on stage.”
And he intended to see his plan succeed against every single one of them.
The chains binding the Great Sage's entire body began to rattle.
The Great Sage's power was terrifying. In terms of pure output alone, he possessed an overwhelming force that no one could match. By circulating his own mana, he had established the entire magical circle system. And linked to it were chains forged through the circulation of human souls.
Each link of those chains contained the power of a single person, and hundreds, thousands of interconnected links resonated in unison with his circles. He was a monster wielding virtually infinite power. It was inevitable that Olga Hermod, Imperial Princess Lobelia, and their allies would be pushed back helplessly.
Yet he isn't completely dominant.
Hiding in the shadows, Yuna watched the battle unfold. The Great Sage was undeniably powerful, commanding nearly limitless reserves. But the one wielding that power was still a solitary individual. He could not manipulate every scrap of that colossal strength with complete finesse. Even without that, however, Faust remained a monstrosity: an Archmage possessing an indefatigable body and power that never ran dry. Even if his instantaneous output had a ceiling, he was a monster that would never tire. That alone granted him superiority against them all.
Even if I jump in here, it won't accomplish anything.
Yuna made a cold, calculated judgment. She had her own objective, but she wasn't foolish enough to rush impatiently just because she had to take a detour. The Great Sage had to be prioritized. That was why she had watched for an opening, despite wanting to find Charybdis immediately. But no opening was going to appear. She realized that right now, searching for Charybdis and stopping him would be far better than joining this fray.
And so, skirting wide around their clash, she slipped back into the Cradle. Unimpeded by anyone, she navigated the grounds freely. She had more than enough skill for that.
And finally, she spotted the skeleton trudging across the campus of the Cradle. Although not a trace of his former living self remained, she knew at once.
It's him.
Charybdis Salos. The man whose life she had personally ended was standing right there.
Tap.
Yuna landed squarely in front of him. For an assassin, it was unquestionably improper conduct. Yes, she was...
“Hello... there.”
She had not sought him out to assassinate him. In the past, she had struck him by surprise to enact her vengeance. Her revenge was justified, and it had ended there. Then why was she acting now, after that revenge was long complete?
“Um... how should I say this... I don't really know if I have the right to say something like this, but... ahem.”
Yuna cleared her throat, then offered an awkward, fragile smile.
“It's been a while, Dad.”
It was a smile so strained and distorted that it seemed on the verge of breaking into sobs at any moment.
“Father, you say...”
Yuna didn't know. She didn't know what Charybdis had felt in the moment of his death. She had lived in perpetual fear of that unanswered question—blaming and scolding herself, constantly insisting that it had been the right thing to do. And now, the person who held that answer was right before her eyes.
“My memories are blurred right now, yet there is something I remember clearly,” Charybdis said, looking down at Yuna. “The cold, merciless eyes that killed me.”
“...”
“Father? Father?! You dare call me Father?! Safe Clown! You, who became my daughter solely to slit my throat?!”
“Haha...”
He roared with fury. It was only to be expected. He had feared death so intensely. He had trusted her so deeply. Yet she had betrayed him. With hypocritical words claiming it was for his own good, she had pierced his heart.
“I thought so.”
At his anticipated response, Yuna forced another strained smile. Her chest felt utterly hollowed out. Yes, hollow. Relieved, yet at the same time, as though she had lost something precious forever.
“I understand,” Yuna said, slipping a pair of daggers from her sleeves. “You have every right to despise me.”
Today, she would return Charybdis to death once more. Her resolution had been made long ago, and it would not falter. Charybdis had to die. That was the only way to sever his karmic ties. She would not let him accumulate any more sins. After all, what she had really come to confirm was something else.
“You want to kill me, don't you?”
“Killing you would hardly be enough! Death is merely salvation! You will not be granted so much as an intact demise!”
Charybdis answered with a beastly snarl. Before his naked hostility, Yuna smiled broadly.
“Do whatever you wish. If that is my karma, I must accept it. I will die with you, Charybdis.”
She intended to return what she had taken from Charybdis that day. Yes. Her own life. The time had come to settle her karma.
The battle was entirely one-sided. In a direct clash, Yuna could never defeat Charybdis. She was an assassin from the start—one whose trade was striking from the blind spots to claim lives. Revealing herself right before her target's eyes was her critical mistake. Even if she tried to conceal herself after the fact, ambushing an opponent who was fully alert to an assassin's presence was impossible. That left her no choice but to rely on her honed techniques to overcome him in a frontal assault... but regrettably, the disparity between them was too vast.
“Gah-ack!”
Swept up in Charybdis's surging wave, Yuna slammed brutally against the wall. Spitting up a mouthful of blood, she thought to herself: I really am foolish.
Why had she spoken to him? It would have been so much better to launch a surprise attack, completely sealing his movements first. Had she done that, she would have had at least a fighting chance. Yet like a fool, she had shown herself before his eyes. She had thrown herself into a fight she couldn't win.
“Ah...”
In the end, Yuna had to admit it. She could no longer hold back the burning tears that traced paths down her face.
“Dad...”
She had clung to a sliver of hope. She had thought that maybe he would recognize her and speak warmly. She had thought that maybe, just maybe, they could reach a heartwarming conclusion. Even though she had seen with her own eyes at the Cradle's walls that he had already transformed into a monster. Even though her mind fully understood that the one who had turned him into that monster was none other than herself.
“I'm sorry...”
That blunder had pushed her to defeat. And her failure meant Charybdis's absolute damnation. He would continue to pile sin upon sin. Until someone struck him down and destroyed him, he would go on slaughtering people. Now, he wouldn't even regret it. He wouldn't feel a shred of guilt. She might have been able to stop it all, yet her pathetic wishful thinking had brought things to this disastrous pass.
“I suppose this is my karma...”
Yuna clenched her fists tight. Her tears fell in torrents now, impossible to hold back.
And in that very moment—
“Honestly, you people are so ignorant it gives you the narrowest damn mindset.”
He appeared.
“Karma? Sure, fine. But did you know? Good deeds count as karma, too.”
Clumsily holding his sword, the boy stepped between her and the monster.
“The fact that I'm standing here right now is all because of the karma you built up.”
Amidst his terror, the boy smiled.
“So accept your karma with a smile.”
It was, plain for anyone to see, the magnificent, courageous step of a coward.