Descensus (7)
Mist rose from Tyrsie's feet. It was cold and pitch-black, like death itself, and it billowed slowly as though shadows were riding the wind. Slither. The dark fog stretched outward, spreading its fingers like the hands of the dead.
The first to be targeted was Signatio, standing at the front of the group.
“……Darkness and yin mana? No. It's slightly different.”
Signatio didn't retreat an inch. She swung her aura-coated cross to meet the attack head-on. But if you looked at the result alone, it couldn't be called a block at all. The moment her cross touched the dark fog, it evaporated like ice dropped into a crucible. This was the very cross a Punitive Executor wielded as a weapon, crafted from superior materials and reinforced with aura, no less.
Signatio's eyes flew wide open. For the first time, she raised her voice in a shout.
“Everyone, get back!!”
She followed her own advice, but the others who had been shielding themselves with magic at close range reacted too slowly. Minerva drew in a sharp breath as the dark fog pierced her mage's barrier like a ghost.
Shwack!
Before I could even open my mouth, Larilura lashed out with her mana.
The threads of Puppetry hooked Minerva and the two subordinates in the danger zone, yanking them clear as if reeling in a catch.
Sssssss... Where Minerva had been standing, the dark fog burrowed into the ground. The perfectly smooth cut left behind made it all too easy to imagine what would have happened if she hadn't been pulled away.
Fuck. I didn't know what the hell that technique was, but it was insanely dangerous.
Minerva, who had just barely escaped with her life, let out a huge breath.
“……You're not just good at circus tricks. You're skilled in battle as well.”
“W-what are you talking about?”
Larilura's voice jumped into a falsetto, clearly stung by Minerva's words. The woman who had been searching for our junior just days ago offered a bitter smile that didn't reach her eyes before quickly composing herself.
“Kuhahaha! A fallen noble girl who never had any ties to high society in her entire life! If you lot are nobles in name, why don't you at least teach her how to dance!”
Diabolo mocked us as we fled, then withdrew from the battlefield. What an asshole—talking shit about us running away while he does the exact same thing.
I simply brushed it off, but the nobles who had abandoned all dignity to run for their lives took the bait and flew into a rage.
“Stand your ground, you pathetic coward!”
“Sir Signatio! Please pursue that man!”
Despite their desperate pleas, Signatio simply stared silently at her cross, now riddled with holes like a pizza. Whoosh! Then she leveled the ruined weapon at Tyrsie and answered a beat later.
“That woman seems far more dangerous than the black mage who caused this mess and ran away.”
“No, that's exactly why you need to chase him.”
“If the enemy is this dangerous, we absolutely cannot let Diabolo escape.”
Minerva and I spoke at the exact same time. In that fraction of a second, our eyes met. We were thinking the exact same thing.
“This isn't what he planned. If he truly had the upper hand, he wouldn't have retreated—he would have pressed the attack.”
“Look at that empty expression on her face. She's being controlled. If Diabolo gains complete mastery over her, we won't stand a chance.”
Signatio's face twisted as our words helped her reach the same conclusion.
“……Understood. I'll go hear how to stop that woman.”
Signatio nodded. When emotion slipped through, a feminine quality emerged in her features. So that's why she usually kept her face completely blank.
“Prioritize your own life. If you die, there will be no one left who can close the rift in the sky.”
“I'll keep that in mind.”
Signatio gave a curt reply and raced after Diabolo. She moved like a vulture diving on prey—blindingly fast.
If I were being honest, I wanted to chase down that son of a bitch myself, beat the shit out of him, and interrogate him. It would relieve my stress and guarantee results. But that plan had too many problems. Aside from the fact that I'd likely get my ass handed to me in a straight fight, leaving the deranged Tyrsie behind with only the nobles and their escorts could end in disaster. If they died, Tyrsie might end up being blamed for murdering nobles despite everything we'd done to save her.
Most of all, if we left Diabolo unchecked, we wouldn't even have the luxury of worrying about any of that.
“Combat troops, spread out! Do not try to block his attacks!”
At Minerva's command, her soldiers scattered. The other nobles couldn't even copy the formation—spreading out their guards would leave themselves vulnerable—so they simply milled about uselessly. The sight made my blood boil, and I shouted sharply.
“Noble guests, please retreat to the rear with one escort each to avoid injury! The fighting will be handled by your guards and us!”
Of course, the words that came out were carefully calculated. Telling them not to get in our way would have been pointless. I just wanted the useless pricks to fuck off somewhere far away and stop making things worse.
“Ah, understood!”
“Sorry, soldiers!”
The nobles fled like their lives depended on it. You couldn't expect courage or combat ability from people who had only come to enjoy an auction. The only exceptions were Minerva and maybe one other.
Fwip-fwip-fwip! That other person's arrows traced five graceful arcs through the air, aiming for Tyrsie's legs. Tyrsie stood there dumbly, like someone who had just woken up, and took the hits directly. Yet not a single scratch appeared on her smooth, sunlit legs.
“……It doesn't work,” Primor muttered, dodging the hand of death reaching toward her. Even though the attack had been aimed at her, the look on her face said that was enough.
“But at least we can distract her. I should have brought more archers.”
“In that case, we can help too.”
Swish! Craaack! The female thief and Hans threw smoke potion bottles and slashing attacks at the same time. Since Tyrsie's attention had shifted toward them, she gathered multiple hands of darkness this time and erased the incoming attacks completely.
The female thief clicked her tongue after seeing Primor's expressionless face.
“She doesn't really resemble the lady at all, does she? Then that girl must be Tyrsie Armasunas.”
“It would seem so. We cannot ask the others to capture her alive. Let's do what we can on our own.”
The mage spoke while weaving a spell. Tyrsie turned her gaze away from them again as they prepared their defense.
Flicker.
The palm that moved like a starving wraith either targeted others or blocked attacks, but it wasn't particularly effective. With that kind of power, she could have gone on the offensive at any moment. Instead, she simply continued these half-hearted exchanges with a vacant look on her face. Even a bottom-tier streamer forced to play a shooting game after seventy-two hours of continuous broadcasting wouldn't look this soulless.
Kiiing.
As always when magic appeared, I activated Odin's Eye. The dark fog was difficult to analyze even with this eye, so it seemed like it would take some time. But that didn't matter much. What I wanted to see from the beginning was Tyrsie herself.
Just as I thought—she's being controlled.
I didn't fully understand it yet, but I could roughly tell what kind of magic this was. Was it black magic? No. It didn't seem like a side effect or a failure, either. To the developer who had designed this situation, Tyrsie's current state was probably the intended outcome. Saying that trampling on a person's ego and dignity was “correct” would make me sound like a complete asshole, so maybe “according to plan” was more accurate.
I frowned while dodging the dark fog. The chill was bone-deep even though it hadn't touched me. It wasn't ordinary cold, either. It felt like the physiological chill that comes with a shiver or goosebumps.
That made sense. It was magic that could erase even aura-coated weapons on contact. If it touched me, even the defense granted by Beast Regression wouldn't mean shit.
So this is the power that let the first Elder Senate family oppose the emperor?
I had assumed it would be something like a legendary sword or an insanely powerful golem. Never in my wildest dreams did I think it would involve turning people into incredibly strong puppets and controlling them! Black fog that made things evaporate on contact? That was probably only a fraction of its true power. A member of the Armasunas family in this state was quite literally a living weapon of war. If fully controlled, they could even attempt hostage-style negotiations against an entire nation.
But I don't sense the ancient god's mana from Tyrsie.
That was the difference from the Compilation Battalion. The concept and principle were similar, though. Maybe their progenitor had some connection to the first Elder Senate? It was possible, but not something to think about right now.
I focused my eyes even harder to prevent my concentration from scattering. Unless the bastard who left behind this magic or legacy for his descendants was the world's biggest idiot, he wouldn't have made it possible for just anyone to control Tyrsie in this state.
Probably only blood relatives of the Armasunas family can control her, or something like that.
Diabolo must have found some way to bypass that restriction.
Which means, while Signatio buys time against that son of a bitch, I just need to analyze the magic binding Tyrsie's mind with these eyes!
If I could figure out the structure, I might be able to do something about it. Fortunately—for reasons I didn't understand—Tyrsie wasn't spreading that annihilating fog over a wide area. With our numbers and the fact that she was fighting so half-heartedly, buying time against her wasn't that difficult!
With that thought in mind, I drew her aggro by yelling.
“I am placing you under arrest for violating the Geneva Convention! The charges are deployment of poison gas and preemptive attack against foreign soldiers and high-ranking officers!”
Grrrrr, bark bark!
Whether the taunt worked or not, Tyrsie's head snapped toward me.
“……Oh shit, are you mad? Never mind, I take it back.”
Tyrsie's eyes rolled back slightly as she creaked like a rusted machine.
Thud.
Like a puppet with its strings cut, her chin dropped.
“──GriMn.”
With that strange expression still on her face, Tyrsie suddenly unleashed a fierce barrage. By “fierce barrage,” I meant the dark fog had multiplied like crazy.
“What the actual fuck?!”
Did she react to the Geneva Convention line? No, that sounded ridiculous. It wasn't like the soul of that ridiculously overpowered ancient mage from a lost civilization had possessed Tyrsie. And even if it had, how would someone from thousands of years ago know about the Geneva Convention?
“Gyaaaaah—?!”
Anyway, I panicked and dodged the tsunami of reaching hands. The fog still formed itself into hand shapes as it poured down, but the sheer number was on a completely different scale from before! It was like the endless stream of handshakes from fans when a famous idol group visits for a morale performance!
“You fucking—! Motherfucking—! Son of a bitch!! Stop it, Tyrsie! Didn't I serve you tea earlier?!”
Tears streamed down my face as I rolled across the ground. I was desperately dodging with the intent to survive, but the increased volume of fog was now focused entirely on me. Even though the movements weren't particularly clever, it was becoming hard to avoid them all. It had been manageable when we were all sharing the burden earlier! Where the hell is our tank?!
“Congratulations, Tyrsie you crazy bitch!! You've just claimed the number one spot on my life's greatest pinch ranking!”
The enormous mana I felt from Tyrsie was literally overwhelming. Among everyone I'd fought so far, the only one who could even compare was Yerna's clone, the one who had seized the orichalcum generator in the City of the Dead. Even the fake Thor in second place fell far short in terms of both mana quantity and destructive power. And now I was facing instant-death danmaku with no cooldown and no delay on top of that overwhelming mana? Even Odin would lose to this! Broken balance creates demand for cash items? I refuse to accept it!
……This is complete and utter dogshit!!
After rolling away from my wives in a series of desperate tumbles, I found myself cornered. The fog had me surrounded on all sides. Was Mama Mu that impressive when I went to wipe out the bandit group with her before? But isn't it a bit too demonic to try killing the teacher who taught you that technique with the same move?
Whoosh!
The dark fog poured toward me like a pervert lunging for a grope. No exaggeration—my life really did flash before my eyes.
If I'd known this would happen, I should have asked Dana to transform into a big-titted version of herself with her transformation magic.
Guilt toward my wives and regret toward Larilura, whose feelings I had only recently accepted, flooded my mind. That was when it happened.
Fwoooooosh!!
Scarlet flames swept away the hands inviting me to death in a single stroke. The dark fog retreated helplessly like shadows fleeing from a campfire before vanishing completely. The power that had erased any material it touched was gone, as if it had all been an illusion.
“……So it really was spatial magic.”
The one who had breathed fire to protect me was none other than Veronica. She let out a small sigh toward Tyrsie, who was staring at her with an unchanging expression.
“Come back to your senses, child. When we met before, your face was far more pleasant to look at than it is now.”
Hoo. Flames bloomed at the tip of Veronica's staff. The goddess of the Aesir gods, her horns concealed, aimed those flames forward and smiled with maternal affection.
“For one who stands as a goddess, it does not do to have your nose led by such a pathetic man.”