Chapter 48
Just before heading up to the deck, Catherine circled the passenger corridor one floor below once more, searching for Magi and Yaong, but there wasn't even a glimpse of them. Giving up, she stepped outside—and a deep sigh escaped her lips unbidden.
The deck was packed with people, not a single inch of space to stand.
How am I supposed to find Chezare like this...?
The atmosphere on deck couldn't even be charitably called positive. Children clung to their parents, wailing at the top of their lungs, while priests wove through the anxious crowds, offering reassurance.
"Excuse me, fellow citizen—if you don't mind, could you tell me what's going on?"
A man who had been silently smoking responded to Catherine's question.
"Didn't you hear the announcement?"
"Things just... happened that way."
"We were all trapped in a repeating dream for a day, turns out it was some mass hallucination. They announced terrorists threatening the Lilith Ship and herded everyone up here to the deck. Damn it, this isn't what I took vacation for... Still, with holy knights and imperial knights around, it should be fine."
Should it? Catherine lifted her gaze to the sky as she pushed through the crowd. There, an overwhelmingly massive magic circle loomed. It had started as a single line, but now it was gradually taking shape. That meant they still hadn't caught the ringleader behind this mess.
Yet everyone was ignoring the enormous crimson magic circle overhead as if it didn't exist. To cast a mass hallucination on this many people and an invisibility spell on top of it?
"A mage capable of this level isn't common even across the whole world."
Catherine's face soured at the sudden voice chiming in.
"And awfully bold, too, wouldn't you say, miss? Drawing a magic circle right in the sky like it's a message to the grand duke himself. That kind of audacity screams young mage to me."
"Hey."
"Sheesh, I came to work and enjoy a vacation, and now I'm dragged into this mess."
"Hey, mister. Could you stop acting like we're buddies?"
At her icy retort, the voice's owner—Giovanni Busperfield—clutched his chest with a wounded expression.
"Mister...? To me, with my bright future ahead... mister...?"
Bad things always came in bunches, and dangerous types always latched on when she was alone. Catherine clicked her tongue and slipped away. Giovanni's feigned tears lasted only a moment before his lips curled into a smirk as he chased after her.
"Hey, miss. Keep being so cold? We still have unfinished business. Speaking of, where's Fontpado Madam? You take good care of her?"
"Don't follow me."
"You really planning to contract with that madam? Well, not a bad choice. But miss, no interest in Busperfield? I'm pretty impressive, you know."
"One more word, and I'll scream you're a pervert."
"You know you're a nephilim, right?"
Catherine halted. She'd always filtered out nonsense with ease. Mingling with noble ladies in high society had taught her to let such rumors slide in one ear and out the other. It was the only way to protect herself.
Yeah, that's how I used to be...
"Confusing at first. Old nephilim like me can spot our own kind easily... You were ambiguous, though. I thought maybe the gargoyle, but now it's clear—you're definitely nephilim."
'That woman's a monster. No such thing as love in her. You, me, this whole family—we're just toys for her family playtime.'
"But weird. No magic talent? Can't be for a nephilim."
Magic Nullification. The nephilim's innate ability. A power that rarely manifested even in ordinary humans who weren't nephilim.
"Anyway, good for you. Busperfield's full of nephilim like you. Identity crises, searching for self..."
"You pervert! Can't you stop? How shameful!"
That was when it happened. Catherine covered her mouth and shouted loudly.
"...Huh?"
All eyes turned to them in an instant. Giovanni smoothed his windswept hair, his face stiffening awkwardly.
"I already have a man I've promised my future to! Don't say indecent things like I look usable or you'll treat me well!"
"Wait, miss? When did I ever..."
Seizing Giovanni's confusion, Catherine melted into the crowd.
I warned him. One more word, and I'd yell.
"Miss!"
But the persistent guy showed no signs of giving up. His voice called from behind, chasing her.
"Miss! Ah, damn. Fast walker for no reason... Look at me! It's me, me! The bodyguard knight you paid top coin for!"
Her forward march halted at those last words. A bodyguard knight she'd paid top coin for? Turning, she saw a familiar face grabbing her shoulder—Demian Rodria.
"Hah, took forever to find you. What good are ears? Called you twenty times, no exaggeration."
"...Sorry, I was distracted. But how'd you spot me in this crowd?"
"Heard a familiar voice yelling weird stuff from somewhere. Knew it was you."
Seemed he'd remembered what she'd done to Charles Kilholder.
"Thanks for recognizing me. Weirdos kept sticking to me while I was alone."
Here, "weirdos" meant Giovanni and Percival Benedict Parhenrine.
"Huh? Where's Yaong?"
"We got separated due to circumstances. Gotta find him."
"Whoa. Good luck finding that little cat in a place like this."
Still, relief washed over her inwardly. Reuniting with Demian in this chaos eased her mind on multiple fronts. He was a bit of a fool, but second only to Chezare in trustworthiness. His weakness was being useless against magic, though.
"You know the situation, right, Demian?"
"Overheard after roughing up a passing colleague."
Violence, really? At Catherine's baffled look, Demian grumbled.
"Said I had no right to know since I'm on leave... Anyway, check this out. That damn illusion magic hit me mid-beer—ended up like this, all sticky."
Demian lifted one leg, pointing to his soaked pants. No wonder she'd caught a faint whiff of alcohol earlier. Looked like he'd dozed off with beer in hand and spilled it all.
"Hey, what's that?"
Suddenly, two crimson magic circles appeared in midair. Black flames burst between them like fireworks. And from within emerged...
「Hehe... Our cute little meals.」
A demon in human form, covered in pitch-black scales.
"Kyaaah!"
The deck turned to pandemonium in seconds. People surged toward the lifeboats in the distance. The demons cackled at the sight, then boomed in loud voices.
「Just a taste? Haven't chewed human souls in days.」
「One or two won't hurt.」
A few priests dashed out from the crowd, blocking the demons. A blue protective magic circle enveloped the deck's people, forming a hemispherical transparent barrier.
"Filthy demons... Begone at once! This is no place for you!"
The demons rolled in the air, clutching their bellies in laughter.
「Ah, ahahaha! Oh, how adorable! Let's see how long you hold.」
The demon swung its arm, now a long blade. Each laugh carved a massive gash in the barrier. It looked ready to shatter any second.
Then— the demon, dancing leisurely, was suddenly flung backward.
「...Huh?」
"Lord Percival!"
Wonder where he'd been. Percival stepped beyond the magic circle, his face—charitably—etched with irritation and nerves. He tilted his head, as if urging the demon to come down and offer its neck.
「Careful, little bro. That human's no ordinary holy knight...」
「Ah, you're the famous pope's hound! Pfft... Still just human!」
With a chilling, drawn-out laugh, the demon shot toward Percival. Blindingly fast, too fast to track...
「This...!」
The finish came in a blink. By the time awareness caught up, Percival's slender longsword had pierced the demon's heart. He kicked away the body crumbling to black ash.
"All bark."
Tsk. A faint tongue-click followed.
"As expected of Lord Percival!"
The priests dispelled the barrier and rushed to him.
「Fool. Underestimating humans...」
The watching demon dispersed into the air—releasing the summon voluntarily.
"Lord Percival!"
The relieved crowd began chanting his name. Even Demian seemed mildly impressed by the feat he'd only heard rumors of.
"No wonder people love him. Impressive even to a fellow knight. Minus the crazy part."
The cheers and applause rang out, but the relief lasted only a moment.
Drip, drip.
Catherine quietly watched the droplets falling onto the deck.
Rain? Under this clear sky?
Whoosh.
Pouring rain confirmed it wasn't her imagination. Families with children began fleeing the deck.
"Rain from a clear sky?"
Demian extended an arm skyward. The falling water pooled in his palm—red and viscous.
"Blood, blood—it's blood!"
Children's cries swelled. The hesitant crowd surged back toward the lifeboats.
Catherine lifted her wet arm and sniffed. Not wine, not tea—blood.
"The sea stench is really strong."
As Demian said, the metallic blood reek blended with salty sea air into something vile. Whose blood? She trusted Chezare, so no real fear. But the gruesome, bizarre phenomenon dulled her mind.
Demian wrapped both arms around her protectively. Catherine slowly leaned her forehead against his chest.
Suffocating.
The air felt literally choked, compressed to block every breath. The deck's atmosphere grew eerily still. Catherine sensed this shift wasn't just her imagination.
For some reason, an ominous feeling crept in.
「Our king.」
And as always, ominous feelings proved true. [