How a Wizard Survives (36)
How a Wizard Survives (36)
The teams were assembled quickly.
I'd wanted to be paired with Reinhardt, but...
As he'd warned us beforehand, the Front Lines commander split the teams as small as possible.
Because of that, I wasn't with Reinhardt, and I wasn't with Luft Einhold either.
They did at least take my squire status into account, so I could stay next to Katrina.
If there was a silver lining, Angelica was assigned to remain on the wall.
She was indignant, but... everyone in the meeting room nodded as if that was only natural.
"I-I can go too..."
"Angelica. Someone has to guard the wall."
"Don't let your pride get in the way. Follow orders. Wasn't this what I told you before we came to the Front Lines?"
As soon as the briefing ended, we moved straight to the armory.
I borrowed a good-quality longsword there.
Katrina gave me a puzzled look but didn't say anything.
"We leave tomorrow morning?"
"Yes. The night belongs to the demons. Besides, they'll already be expecting us."
In other words, sneaking in under cover of darkness would be pointless.
Guided to our quarters by the soldiers, we decided to rest the night and head out early in the morning.
Fortunately, the lodging was far better than I'd expected.
It lacked several of Reshutal's comforts, but for a war zone, I was grateful.
People really did live here.
Maybe life on the Front Lines wouldn't be so bad.
But that illusion shattered the moment the next morning came.
We were preparing to march at dawn when we received troop support from the Front Lines command.
The plan was to go in as a small elite force, but...
Even so, these were precious Holy Knights. They couldn't exactly throw people who'd been authorized to carry Holy Relics, alone and unaided, into the Demon Lands.
"This unit has been seconded for the operation. Use them as you see fit."
An officer who seemed to be from the Wizardvein family introduced the armed soldiers.
The men's eyes were lifeless, as if they had already thrown their lives away.
They wore expressions that said they'd contract with a demon this very moment if anyone gave them the knowledge and materials.
Katrina noticed it too, and her face hardened.
I turned away so they wouldn't hear and asked quietly.
"Are they convict soldiers?"
"Absolutely not! How could we use that sort of trash for an operation this important? They were handpicked from the best. You can rest assured."
Their gear did look decent apart from their morale, so it seemed they'd selected the A-list troops...
Even the A-list was expendable.
Their mission was to keep us alive, even if it cost them their own lives.
I must not have hidden my doubt well, because the officer added with a fine smile, "They have family and relatives. They won't run."
I'd misjudged things.
I really was lucky Ulysses had picked me up.
The Einhold family mage assigned to our team seemed accustomed to this sort of thing and showed no reaction at all.
Because they'd split the teams so small, it ended up being groups of three...
The idea was that nearby teams would converge once a mission was complete.
'We'll all end up meeting at the trebuchet location anyway.'
During the final checks before we set out, Reinhardt strode over from another team.
He asked if I'd memorized the terrain thoroughly, then added without fail, "If Katrina gets so much as a scratch, you'll answer for it."
"Ah, no. That won't happen."
"Good. A man ought to protect his woman."
"..."
Had this man somehow figured out what happened between Katrina and me?
Before I could protest his sexist remark, Reinhardt had already walked away.
Katrina looked curious about what we'd discussed, but... I couldn't bring myself to tell her.
"All units, prepare to move out! Disperse immediately upon reaching your designated zones!"
"Soldiers, do not fall behind the knights! Retreating without orders means summary execution!"
As we received that wonderfully morale-boosting encouragement, the sun finally rose.
The moment the gate opened a crack, we mounted and poured out.
We had to avoid the demons' eyes and ears as much as possible, so there were no grand trumpet blasts.
Only a grim tension hung over the empty wasteland.
The Front Lines soldiers had worked hard clearing the brush, so barely any green was visible.
Riding at a comfortable pace, we reached the forward base and watchtower before long.
"Right, disperse!"
"Everyone, come back safe!"
"Good luck to you all."
The strike force exchanged brief encouragement and scattered in every direction.
A stretch of rough, rocky mountains began from here.
That meant the actual travel distance would easily be twice the five-kilometer straight line.
'Even so, on horseback it's under twenty minutes. The soldiers out front might slow us a little, but... hit fast and pull out fast!'
"Hyah!"
My black horse willingly picked up speed, as if keen to get the job done and head back too.
The soldiers running themselves ragged to keep ahead of us shouted encouragement to one another.
"Don't you lot be scared! They say there's only a few demons anyway."
"Yeah, what are the odds we're the unlucky ones who run into..."
That was tempting fate.
A strange shape appeared in the narrow pass leading to a clearing.
Blocking everyone's path was an ugly hunchback with a twisted spine... though he was far larger and sturdier than a normal man.
A nasty smirk sat on his face.
We recognized him immediately and clicked our tongues inwardly.
It was a face I'd seen in the Inquisition's archives.
'The Enfeeblement Demon, Diego!'
'He was one of Morelai's Lowest-Rank Demons, wasn't he? If we'd drawn a lucky one, this was it...'
Running into one of the few demons was bad luck, but...
Among the demons already identified for this operation, he was the weakest.
The soldiers who came face to face with the demon turned and fled in pure survival instinct, ignoring orders...
But it was already too late.
They fulfilled their role by demonstrating the demon's ability.
"Where do you think you're running!"
"Grk—!"
The fleeing soldiers crumpled together, mouths gaping uselessly.
They clearly wanted to breathe but didn't seem to have even the strength left for that.
Without mana of their own, they had no way to resist the enemy's magic.
Magic Resistance originated from one's own mana.
Having easily dropped the soldiers, the hunchback grinned at us.
I drew the sword I'd borrowed from the armory and jumped off my horse.
'His magic isn't much to look at, as I thought. And it's not the sort of magic you can adapt easily. As long as I have Magic Resistance, I'll be fine.'
It was as if the enemy meant to rebuke me for that assumption.
New shadows appeared behind the shrimp-backed demon.
Katrina and one of the other strike team members spotted them and quickly closed in on me.
Generally, there are three kinds of enemies you run into on the Front Lines.
First, demons.
Beings that need no extra explanation.
The enemy captains!
Second, Demonic Beasts.
A sort of leftover existence cobbled together at will from demonic power and mana.
Anyone carrying a Holy Relic doesn't need to worry much about them.
And given their nature, even a basic Rejection Magic will wipe them out with ease.
But the third is different.
Demon Thralls.
The wretched fate of mages who made contracts with demons and had their souls stolen!
Most of the time, demons grant power to mages precisely to create these Demon Thralls.
Since these are people whom the demons had their eyes on from their human days, whether for power, talent, or at least knowledge...
They can't even be compared to mere Demonic Beasts.
On top of that, thanks to the new bodies the demons personally prepared for them, their combat ability is far beyond what it was when they were mages.
I've even heard that Demon Thralls of Demon King-Class demons can be stronger than run-of-the-mill demons.
That made sense. Imagining a mage like Ulysses becoming a Demon Thrall was horrifying.
"Are those Demon Thralls?"
"Yes. Don't let your guard down."
Chainfist, the demon who'd appeared at Reshutal Royal Palace, hadn't been able to field Demon Thralls...
But this time was different.
This was the demons' home ground.
Of course they'd bring their loyal battle-slaves with them.
Unfortunately, it looked like the Enfeeblement Demon Diego had cultivated an excellent crop of Demon Thralls.
Given how useful his magic could be in human society, perhaps that was inevitable.
"Fewer than I expected. Did he station the rest separately to tie up the other teams...?"
"That's fewer?"
"Yes. But since he came out himself, he must have picked the elite ones."
"Enough talk. You die here."
The moment Katrina finished speaking, Diego gave the attack order.
Charging at the head was a giant stitched together from leather and flesh.
The Demon Thrall let out a mournful cry and lunged at me.
For those who've already become Demon Thralls, there's almost no free will left.
"Jaeger!"
"Don't worry about me!"
He was clearly the strongest of the Demon Thralls, but...
I raised my sword and faced him.
Swish!
I used the Spider Boots to leap into the air, and a flicker of surprise crossed the enemy's eyes.
The Demon Thrall swung his long, thick right arm and snagged my ankle.
I'd boosted with Gravity Magic again just before he caught me, but he still managed to reach me.
He must have been a famous warrior in life.
"Kihk—guh?!"
Wham!
He'd meant to crush my ankle and slam me into the ground, but instead he folded his arm with a bizarre shriek.
The instant he grabbed my ankle, I'd used my other foot to kick the inside of his elbow with full force.
Strike there, and anyone's arm would fold. Without strength in the limb, he could not break my ankle.
"Thanks!"
That let me close the distance easily, and I drove my sword hard into his thick neck.
The blade wasn't Adamantite, so the cutting wasn't satisfying, but the borrowed sword worked well enough.
Just as I'd learned in the Inquisition, I put my full weight into the blade and twisted. The giant's head fell to the ground.
Splat!
Far too heavy a sound for a living creature's head dropping.
I glanced over at Katrina and the other strike team member as I rushed the demon.
Neither of them looked like they needed help yet, thankfully.
'Ankle's fine.'
The boot was a little dented, but nothing serious.
I had deliberately let him catch me to set up the counter.
They say a living thing is at its weakest the moment it thinks it's won.
Demon Thralls were no exception.
"You... you bastard! My slave!"
"Ha!"
Laughing like a proper Heretic Inquisitor, I closed the gap, then my eyes flew wide at what I saw next.
Diego's shrimp-curled back snapped straight.
In an instant he'd grown a good fifty centimeters taller, and he cracked his fists together as if warming up.
'That son of a bitch, he could straighten his back the whole time?'
"You wicked bastard!"
"Come on then, Heretic Inquisitor!"
I had managed to close the distance, but...
A demon's body is built purely for combat.
My options for inflicting a fatal wound were severely limited.
Ultimate Mimicry was out for now; I still lacked proficiency.
I was also a little wary of openly using Gravity Magic.
The other strike-team member behind me was an Einhold.
My only option was painfully obvious.
'Adamantite it is.'
But if I showed the Adamantite sword too early, the demon would focus exclusively on keeping me in check.
So I'd decided to borrow a sword from the armory.
It was a gamble that was only possible because the enemy's magic wasn't worth much.
'Most of the demons under Morelai have poor direct attack ability, I've noticed. They don't have a great matchup against other mages!'
Diego seemed to trust in the toughness inherent to demons, because he didn't hesitate to meet me in close combat.
His outstretched arms came at me with terrifying force.
That wasn't necessarily a bad tactic, considering how Chainfist had deflected spears and swords with his bare body.
Once he grabbed hold, armor and everything else wouldn't matter.
But I drew the Adamantite sword before it was too late.
I'd faked him out until the very last moment, so I ended up pulling the sword with my left hand...
Not a big problem.
Back when I attended the Swordsmanship Guild, the instructor assigned to me had said this:
'Dual Swordsmanship is a technique for geniuses. Swinging two blades clumsily will only make your other arm's movements interfere...'
The other trainees took that as a warning, but I saw it a little differently.
Dual Swordsmanship is a technique for geniuses.
In other words...
It's a technique made for yours truly!
Shlik!
With a crisp sensation in my hand, the demon's distinctive black blood gushed.
The confident look on his face twisted into shock.