The Ghoul's Altar (4)
Fifteen days.
It had been more than enough time to gather information on the man. Who he was, what his purpose was—through conversation alone I had managed to piece together a fairly clear picture.
I was certain now.
This man had to be finished right here. If I was going to strike first, this was the perfect moment.
[“Grrraaagh!”]
So I did it.
The man staggered as the Pyeonma Stone punched clean through him.
[“Cough—what the hell are you suddenly—!”]
[“Have you ever heard this saying?”]
[“W-what saying?”]
[“If you’re going to betray someone, do it at the most appropriate time.”]
The heat ray that followed bored straight through the right side of his head. A sizzling sound rose as blood sprayed outward. The stench of searing flesh assaulted my nostrils like burning food.
Drip. Drop.
The bandages covering the man’s face came loose, revealing the wrinkled bare skin beneath.
[“…Ugh, damn it.”]
Bloodshot eyes. A deeply sunken nose.
He looked every bit the monster.
Skin exposed to sunlight began to redden and char. The man let out a low groan. Before he could fully regain his senses, I shouted.
“Valkyrie! Assist—!!”
In the next instant a woman with golden eyes burst from the undergrowth. Black hair streaming behind her, she charged the man.
Thud!
The tip of her spear sank into his abdomen.
A heavy blow driven by holy power. Purple fluid sprayed from the mouth of the man who looked as withered as a dead tree.
“Fall back!”
Valkyrie retreated. She came to my side and gave my shoulder a light shove.
“Explain later.”
“I know already.”
We both fixed our eyes forward.
The man exhaled raggedly, blood dripping steadily from his wounds.
[“Y-you… you shameless bastard with no sense of business ethics…”]
With the mask gone, raw hostility poured out unfiltered.
[“From the beginning… you planned this… how dare you…”]
The ambush had succeeded. He clearly had never expected to be attacked here; panic was written all over him.
I was just as bewildered.
Wait—he’s not dead?
I had hit him with the Pyeonma Stone. A fourth-order mana resonator, an industrial material possessing the highest cutting power of any magic stone currently in existence. One solid hit should have blown his body apart.
In a sense it had. A through-and-through wound in the chest, a third of his head gone. On top of that a spear through the gut and a storm of holy power poured into him. He should have been dead several times over.
[“Shit… these are serious wounds.”]
Just “serious”?
“Tsk.”
I could not let it show. Keeping my face expressionless, I prepared the next attack.
[“Keh-heh… so. How long have you known?”]
[“From the start.”]
[“More thorough than I expected.”]
[“What, you thought I wouldn’t notice when you sent ghost skeletons to watch us every single day?”]
Until now I had responded to the man’s conversation only passively. I had saved my words and let him talk as much as possible.
The more someone talks, the more they slip. Exactly as planned, he had leaked small but critical pieces of information. By stitching those biased clues together I had realized he was secretly observing us.
[“First you send people to a lakeside haunted by water ghosts, and when they come back alive you try to set them against each other. Do we look like a joke to you?”]
[“Hmm? A mage defending those Holy Kingdom beggars? I don’t understand. Do you trust those women that much?”]
[“More than a demon.”]
The demon bared white teeth.
[“So it turns out I was the one who got played. Fine, I’ll admit it. You got me this time, mage. That face of yours says you’ve already figured everything out.”]
Not really.
So how exactly do we escape this island?
[“That’s right. Until you take me down, none of you are ever leaving this island.”]
He just told me straight out. Thanks.
I now knew everything I needed to know.
My mana was running critically low, but even if I had to push myself, I had to kill the demon in front of me. Now, while he was heavily wounded, was the best chance I would get.
At that moment the demon grinned.
[“I know my own limits well. I don’t have a hobby of fighting recklessly in a body like this.”]
Murky fog settled around him. I fired the Chamcheongseok with what little mana I had left. The light bent. I felt no impact at all.
The fog soon dispersed. The man was nowhere to be found.
He fled.
The ominous presence had completely vanished. All that remained were torn scraps of bandage and flesh turning to ash.
Strength drained from my legs.
“Haa…”
My mouth tasted bitter. Mana exhaustion.
In the end the assassination had failed.
I never imagined he would take two hits from a Pyeonma Stone and still escape in one piece. Failing to account for that was my mistake.
“Mage!”
A familiar voice reached my ears.
It was the Saintess. She came bounding toward me like a rabbit and thrust her face right in front of mine. Red, orange, blue, violet—her eyes sparkled with the many colors of an opal.
“Explain. Right now.”
It was time to tell them everything.
The complicated exchange of words took time to sort out.
In short: the black monster had been watching them through ghosts and skeletons, which was why the mage had not communicated openly. When the creature tried to sow discord, the mage had answered with a counter-scheme of his own.
Simply put—
“A trick inside a trick?”
Tiria’s shoulders sagged.
“Why didn’t you give us even a hint?”
“The core of a double-cross is that you don’t tell your own side either. It was going to be over soon anyway. I wanted to show you through actions rather than words.”
The first emotion Tiria felt upon hearing the mage’s explanation was resentment.
She had been fretting herself sick over it, and here he sat speaking as if it were nothing at all.
“Here—this is a magic stone I obtained after killing a skeleton monster. It has the property of sending and receiving signals. This was the decisive evidence.”
“That’s enough. Anything else you want to say?”
“Uh… well. I’m sorry?”
“Fine.”
Tiria, who had been glaring at the mage as if she meant to kill him, gave a short nod.
The mage wore a half-bewildered expression. We’re enemies, so why am I apologizing to this woman? The thought was plain on his face.
“Do you have any idea how anxious I was, thinking you might betray us?”
“That would never happen.”
“Don’t mages eat concealment and deception for breakfast?”
“I am a mage of the Magic Kingdom. A man who is a corpse without loyalty and stones.”
“Want to become a corpse?”
“If I could die by the Saintess’s hand, that would be an honor in its own way.”
“Haa… just stop talking.”
The one suffering mana exhaustion was the man, yet somehow Tiria felt more drained than he did.
Even so, once she settled her emotions, what remained was pure relief.
She was truly glad the mage had not betrayed them. She did not know why she was glad, but she was glad all the same.
Searching for the reason, Tiria decided it was because—as Major Brokenheart had said—his tool-crafting ability was outstanding.
It helped with survival.
Yes. That had to be it.
Another self inside her heart shouted that there were other reasons, but Tiria deliberately ignored it.
“In any case, starting tonight we need to prepare thoroughly.”
“You mean against night raids?”
“We’ve openly made an enemy of that demon, so from tonight stronger monsters will come. The responsibility is largely mine. I’ll take the longest watch tonight.”
The mage staggered to his feet.
He looked as if he were pushing himself despite the mana depletion wrecking his body.
A petty irritation flared in her.
She had suffered so much heartache because of him, and all he offered was a single “sorry.” It felt unfair.
“Hey.”
At the very least she wanted to see the mage look flustered just once.
With that thought she boldly spoke up.
“While we’re preparing for night raids anyway… so that if something happens I can wake you right away… m-maybe you should… also sleep… a-attached to the lifeboat… t-t-together…”
“Sure.”
And so it happened.
“Huh?”
When she came to her senses it was night.
The man climbed into the lifeboat where Tiria was lying. It was a historic moment—the Magic Kingdom reclaiming the homeland the Holy Kingdom had occupied for a month.
“W-wait, wha—?”
“You’re the one who suggested it first?”
The mage smiled slyly.
Covered with palm fronds for a blanket, he set a stone beside him. He and Tiria lay facing each other. Azalea blossoms bloomed in Tiria’s eyes.
“W-why are you lying facing this way?”
“David says this side is more comfortable.”
“Who’s David?!”
“This little guy.”
The mage gently covered the star-shaped pebble with a fallen leaf.
“Sleep well, my baby.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Shh. You’ll wake him.”
Tiria felt her blood pressure spike.
“Why are you treating a rock like a child? Are you actually sane? Or have you gone crazy from being stuck on this deserted island too long?”
[“Waaah.”]
“…What was that just now?”
Goosebumps rose on her skin. She had clearly heard Whieon from very close by, yet the mage’s lips had not moved at all.
“Have a good night.”
The mage fell asleep almost at once. He must have been thoroughly exhausted.
She needed to sleep quickly herself—no one knew when a night raid might come—yet for some reason Tiria could not close her eyes.
“Haa, seriously!”
Her gaze drifted to the stone.
A star-shaped water stone.
It was finely crafted without a single rough patch; beautiful, in its way.
When she touched the smooth surface it really was soft. She could understand, just a little, why the mage treasured it so much.
[“Oh… ooooh… ooooooooh…”]
“Hiiik?!”
Startled, Tiria dropped the stone as if flinging it away.
She had not misheard.
“Th-the rock talked?”
Her heart hammered wildly.
“Just what in the world is this man carrying around…!”