The Ghoul's Altar (6)

And she lost.

The monster's magic came hunting for her blind spots through the fog. With no visibility to speak of and nothing but a spear for a weapon, close combat was forced upon her.

Projectiles she could block or dodge. The problem was that every ranged technique the creature used had no form at all.

She fought with everything she had, but the situation was overwhelmingly against her.

"Kh—!"

Rachel went tumbling across the ground, flung aside by a blade of wind.

The monster muttered in Whieon as it closed in.

She strained to snatch up the weapon she had dropped, but before her fingers could even brush it, a brutal kick sent the spear spinning far out of reach.

A rough hand seized Rachel by her ebony hair and hauled her upright as if tearing the locks from her scalp. Bloodshot red eyes locked with her golden irises.

Those were not human eyes. Up close, maggots swarmed along the rims of the sockets. Rachel's face twisted at the stench of rot rolling off him.

"Ugh, what the hell are you saying…"

The man snorted. He was laughing at her — as if to ask why, when the odds were so thoroughly stacked against her, she had charged him instead of running.

Rachel wondered. Had she truly been no match for this monster at all?

Not a chance.

She had dodged formless magic more than once. More than that — she had closed the distance to within three yards. The creature itself had flinched and scrambled to open the gap again.

The divine power the Goddess bestowed was, at its core, a grace granted to humanity for the purpose of purging wicked mana. If Rachel could only get close enough, victory would have been hers without question.

She had simply grown so used to something that she had forgotten it.

"A mage."

The mage of the Magic Kingdom. Erihi Ronshstein.

"If that guy had been here, you'd already be finished."

In every battle, the mage had covered her flanks. Whenever her blind spot was exposed, he had filled the gap with precisely timed magic.

The two of them worked together with an almost uncanny synchronicity. Even without a shared language, they had always moved as though each could read the other's mind.

Because of that, Rachel had been able to hold the vanguard and still finish nearly every fight without a scratch.

"When the Colonel and the mage get here, you're done. Looks like those wounds from yesterday haven't fully healed — so consider today your last—"

"Aaaagh!"

The monster tightened its grip on her hair as if to shut her up.

Strength drained from her entire body until she could do nothing at all. As a final act of defiance, Rachel glared up at the man.

"I'll… kill you…"

She might have lost the fight, but she would not surrender. That was what it meant to be a Valkyrie. She was being dragged along now only because her strength was spent — the moment an opening appeared, she would counterattack and tear out his throat.

Rachel's consciousness, drained of every last reserve, began to slip away into the dark.

Colonel Caston. And the mage.

For now, trusting the two of them was the best she could do.

The Saintess and I ran hard, arm in arm.

The monsters kept closing from behind — more persistent than I had expected. Shake a few of them and another pack would burst out to take up the chase.

We could have fought them off, but without the Valkyrie holding the front line the risk was too high.

On top of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that, I had already used a magic stone twice the day before, so the mana I had gathered today was thin. I could not afford to waste stones meant for the leader on a pack of grunts. Reuniting with the Valkyrie came first.

If my guess was right, this fog was a labyrinth — and most labyrinths had only one exit.

That was why we had chosen the fastest route to the mountain summit.

"Run faster!"

"Wait — your stride is too—! Ah!"

The Saintess nearly went down. Soldier or not, trained or not, there was a height difference between us. Our strides simply did not match.

At this rate, even if we shook the current pack we would only pick up more monsters. We had to shed every last straggler before we reached the peak, at the very least.

It was going to kill me, but there was no other way.

"I'll carry you."

"What?"

"This is hardly the time for a three-legged race!"

I scooped the Saintess up in my arms in a single motion. Her irises flashed orange on the spot.

The flustered look lasted only a moment. Then she wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed herself close, and with our center of gravity settled, moving became considerably easier.

It cost more stamina than piggybacking, of course — but the monsters were right on our heels in real time, and I could not afford to slow down for even a second.

I was not sure how long we kept that up.

Once I had finally shaken the monsters, I set the Saintess down. My lungs felt like they were on fire. As I gasped for air, she held out a canteen. Her eyes had gone a soft pink.

"Are you all right?"

"I am not all right. Why are you so heavy?"

"I'll have you know I'm slender."

"Enough. Let's keep moving."

Monster howls rose again from the surroundings. We wet our throats and set off at once.

Whenever the threat of pursuit showed itself along the way, I immediately hoisted the Saintess onto my back.

It was definitely easier than running with her in my arms. And I was beginning to understand why she felt heavier than her frame suggested.

How many times we alternated between running and walking, I could not say.

Then the distant, babbling cries that had been trailing us all went silent at once, as if every living thing had dropped dead. What filled the emptied space was a bleak, desolate quiet.

Dark. Dim. Still.

It felt as though we had stepped inside a barrier.

I set the Saintess down and caught my breath. The fog was thinning by degrees. Looking ahead, the summit was right in front of us — as if that ghoul were beckoning us up.

"Mage — over here!"

The Saintess, still linked arm-in-arm with me as she scanned the surroundings, pointed at the ground and called out.

A single stone spear lay fallen in the dirt. The one I had crafted for the Valkyrie.

"Why is this here?"

The blade was still warm. The magic stone inside was packed full of Ekirel. The heat generated by the neutralizing reaction between Mana and Sephiron was only now beginning to cool.

No question about it. A fight had taken place here.

The irregular patterns stamped into the ground only reinforced the conclusion.

Right up until the fog closed in, the Valkyrie had been walking just ahead of us. Yet we only found this spear after so much time had passed. Perhaps that monster could warp space and time itself.

"Ah…"

The Saintess's eyes had gone purple. For a Lumina to show that color was a very bad sign — it meant she was either terrified or deeply unsettled.

"Let's hurry."

We pressed on.

At the summit, open ground spread out before us.

The first thing to catch the eye was a tree reduced to nothing but a stump. The cut was clean — tools had been used. The first trace of civilization we had found on this island.

And when I lifted my gaze, the second was waiting.

Stone pillars.

Not one. Roughly a dozen of them stood arranged in a circle.

Inside the ring of pillars rose a stone platform shaped like a truncated pyramid. The mana radiating from it was unnaturally dense.

It looked like a temple built for worship — or an altar built for sacrifice.

"This must be it. Our destination."

The Saintess glanced around, then carefully unlinked her arm from mine. She cleared her throat and replaced the old arrangement by catching hold of my sleeve instead.

That was when the magic stone in my pocket resonated.

Hummm.

"…What?"

Curious, I pulled it out — the stone we had obtained after killing the Siren on the previous island. I had never been able to figure out what it was for, so I had simply been carrying it around…

Now I understood.

I poured every last scrap of remaining mana into the stone and primed it. The stone, greedily devouring the power, heaved like a living thing.

Then we advanced carefully.

From a distance we had not seen them, but bleached bones littered the ground around the altar. Every one of them human. There had to be dozens of them at the least — hundreds, even.

And up above.

The Valkyrie lay upon the stone platform.

The devil's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠voice set every nerve in my body on edge.

A ghoul that does not eat people dies.

Amalgam — once a lowly foot soldier in the army of a certain great personage from ages past — was no exception. He had been human once, then become a ghoul, and now he was a creature whose hard-won immortal body would simply expire if he did not feed on human flesh.

Not that it particularly bothered him. He had enjoyed eating people even before he became a monster.

True immortality, however, it was not. Like every other monster, demonkin, and devil, a body struck by the power of the Goddess venerated by the Holy Kingdom — by divine power — was doomed to destruction.

Which was why the spearpoint driven in by the Holy Kingdom's female soldier had been far more lethal than the mage's ambush.

He had nearly died.

He had used instantaneous teleportation in a panic to return to his den, but the mana poured into both the transfer and the regeneration had been so great that rest was mandatory for the time being.

And yet the mage's party had endured that night with strength to spare — and then come crashing into Amalgam's nest.

There was no longer any reason to hide. Amalgam unwound the bandages from his fingertips. A soft rasp — and bones punched out through the flesh, gleaming sharp.

The mage let out a hollow laugh.

"You should have come at us like this from the start. Why bother with all the clever games until now?"

"That's—"

The ground beneath the mage and the Saintess heaved upward. Sharp iron spikes burst forth like sprouting shoots. The two of them dodged on pure reflex in that split second — and in doing so were forced apart.

Exactly as Amalgam had intended.

Both mages chanted at once. Amalgam's iron stakes and Erihi's Chamcheongseok met in midair and threw off a shower of sparks.

"———."

At the same moment, Tiria drew her baculus and began to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠recite in Hyeongon. A halo of light blazed into being behind her back. Amalgam's eyes went wide.

Divine power, held in reserve and untouched.

"We were saving it for you."

It was Erihi who answered. Amalgam clicked his rotting tongue against the roof of his mouth. The plan to drain their strength in advance had failed.

The real battle started now.