The Power in Words (5)

BOOOM!!

A thunderous roar erupted across the open ground in front of the Administration Office.

CLANG-CLANG! CHAENG!

The ring of steel against steel pierced through the drumming rain.

Marquis-by-the-Border's guards had formed a circle around the clearing, shields raised, glaring warily at what lay within: several massive golems and a single human, locked in a desperate struggle.

CHAENG!

Kaban barely deflected the garrison commander's greatsword with his dragonclaw spear and slid backward, skidding across the mud.

Thoom. Thoom.

After all this time, the border defense unit showed not a hint of disorder, sword in hand, advancing with steady steps.

The golem's rigid words buzzed in Kaban's ears. He dragged in a ragged breath that burned all the way down to his throat, barely managing to square his stance.

"Haah, haah... You goddamn—kh! Mere dolls...!"

How much time had passed? Thirty minutes? An hour? Two? All night?

He didn't know.

All Kaban could remember was that, under the relentless sheets of rain, he had been swinging his spear without pause, locked in an endless battle against those cursed golems.

Why am I even here? What am I doing here?

He had been trying to capture the man called the Central Officer and demand the whereabouts of the volcano's master, that much was certain.

So why am I the one fighting these things?

His mind, like his body, was slowly sinking toward its limits.

VWOOM!

Then, another attack came hurtling toward him.

But this time was different. Instead of taking the greatsword head-on, he twisted his body out of its path and slashed his spear down against its arm.

Shrrk! CRACK...

The golem's arm came away — and there it was at last, a gap exposing the mana core.

Now!

Kaban didn't miss it. He immediately reversed his grip on the spear and lunged straight for the golem's heart.

No — the very moment he lunged—

SHWAAAAK!

With an eerie sound of splitting air, arrows came flying from behind him.

"Ha! Arrows like those!"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

As long as he wore his dragon armor, such attacks were meaningless. Knowing this well, he scoffed.

But these were no blind, random shots. They had been aimed — precisely — at his head.

"Ah, damn it all!"

Kaban yelped and ducked hastily.

And that was exactly what the garrison commander had been waiting for.

BOOOM!!!!

A sound even heavier and more sinister than the whistling arrows ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tore through the air right in front of him. Kaban whipped his head around.

Directly in front of him was a fist the size of a human torso.

"Ah."

Too late.

KRAKOOOOM!!!

The massive fist, carved from solid rock, smashed squarely into Kaban's midsection.

"GRAAAAGH!"

He bounced this way and that, rolling across the ground. The garrison commander studied its own fist for a moment, then tilted its head.

In other words: it intended to hit him again.

"Y-you... baastard...!"

Kaban staggered to his feet, utterly spent, and spat out a curse. Every last thing about this situation was against him.

Like a rat cornered in a jar.

But... I at least disabled one of their arms...

Things would get better now, surely.

Yet that thought barely had time to form before the armless golem picked up its severed limb and pressed it against the stump.

VMMM.

In less than five seconds, the arm was reattached.

The most unwelcome sound in the world, delivered in a flat drone.

"Ha."

At that sight, Kaban let out a hollow, exhausted laugh. Whenever he pressed an attack, arrows came shrieking out of nowhere like vengeful spirits. Whenever he batted the arrows aside, the golems came swinging three-and-a-half-meter greatswords. Whenever he tried to flee, the guards, who had surrounded the area in a tight circle with nothing but shields, ground their teeth and held firm. And whenever he managed to disable a golem, it was back in the fight within five minutes, fully restored.

Flawless coordination. Give-and-take that meshed as tightly as drilled veteran soldiers. His patience ran dry, and, goaded past all endurance, he roared at everyone around him.

"ALL OF YOU, COME ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠AT ME! Stop hiding behind your dolls like cowards!"

He needed an opening. To break through that ring of guards, he had to make them attack him.

"You wretched bastards! If you want me, stop sending those hunks of rock and come at me yourselves!"

"What kind of waste of time is this!? What kind of fight even is ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this!?"

But no one answered him.

Clank. Thoom!

If anything, the guards gripped their shields tighter and deepened their formation.

"Soldiers of the Marquis-by-the-Border! Do not retreat a single step, and do not advance! You must give him no opening!"

For they were listening to the words of one man alone.

"Hold the encirclement to cut off every escape route while the border defense unit moves in to subdue him directly! Agents, seize the high ground and provide covering fire only. You must target the head, and the head alone!"

They were following, to the letter, the commands of a single man — the one called the Central Officer.

Two things I learned for certain after the Changeling incident.

One: I must never step onto the field myself.

Just as the Smell Officer once told me, I don't know how to fight. If I stepped in, I wouldn't help — I'd only be dead weight.

But I do know how to command people.

A man is only truly useful when he knows his own limits and acts accordingly. And so I commanded the forces from behind, never once stepping forward.

Two: no matter what happens, never grant your quarry room to escape.

The moment they slip away, hunting them down again becomes ten times harder. I'd lived through that once already, and the lesson had been seared into my bones. Build an escape-proof encirclement first, perfect and airtight — then bleed them slowly inside it.

For dealing with extremely dangerous individuals, it was the ideal method.

Which is why the border defense unit makes for such an excellent opponent.

As long as a golem's mana core remains intact, it will reassemble itself endlessly. No matter how badly it's smashed to pieces, five minutes is all it needs for self-repair. And their combat skill is superb. From Kaban's point of view, he was being forced into an endless duel that would only end when he collapsed — the worst possible situation.

And on top of that, the attacks weren't purely physical.

"Drop your weapons and surrender, you utterly depraved illegal-entry terrorist violent-abusive identity-fraudulent obstruction-of-official-duties arrest-defying FAKE dragon hunter!"

"You little...!!"

Yes — I was also relentlessly bombarding him with psychological attacks, scraping at his pride and arrogance for all they were worth.

"Stop hiding back there and come out here, you coward!"

"I can't hear you!"

Like I'd actually listen to you. You think I'm insane?

"Central Officer. I would like to enter the field as well."

Perhaps the desperate battle had stirred something in him, for the Smell Officer, who had been watching quietly, growled low in his throat and flexed his claws.

But I raised a hand to stop him.

"Denied. Stand by."

"It's just like the Changeling — I go in, knock him flat, done. I'll be back before you know it."

The Smell Officer couldn't hide his excitement; it had been a long time coming. I answered firmly.

"I consented that time because I judged, clearly, that you were capable of subduing him. That man is different. As long as he has that spear and that armor, your involvement changes nothing."

Any ordinary human would long since have been beaten into exhaustion and subdued. But Kaban had taken a golem's punch to the gut and still risen with barely a scream — the Smell Officer's claws and fangs clearly wouldn't amount to much.

"Besides, there is something just as important as capturing that man."

Zero casualties. That was what mattered.

Erzena wasn't here right now.

Erzena and Elaine were late today, and they both looked so worn out that I sent them home early — was that what caused all this?

If even a single person got injured here, things would become extremely difficult. And so, still holding the Smell Officer back, I shouted out at Kaban.

"There is nowhere to run. Give it up, terrorist!"

"I'm not a, haah, terrorist...! I'm a, a hero—"

"Terrorist! Illegal entrant! Common thief!"

"SHUT UP, YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!"

Kaban bellowed in fury. And in that very moment, as if something had suddenly dawned on him, he murmured:

"Wait... nowhere to run?"

He lowered his spear tip and slowly lifted his gaze toward the sky.

And the border defense unit commander did not miss that opening.

BOOOM!!!

The commander clenched its fist once more and drove it upward with everything it had. An uppercut, aimed at torso and head simultaneously.

Certain of victory.

And at that sight, Kaban allowed the corner of his mouth to curl upward, just slightly.

Shhwip.

He tilted his body a touch. To change the angle of the impact.

And then, one second later—

KWAAOOOM!!!

With a deafening roar, a colossal shockwave rang out across the clearing.

At the same instant, Kaban's body went soaring.

"GAAAGH...!!!"

"Got him!"

But something was wrong. His trajectory was nothing like it had been until now. Not a straight line level with the ground — an arc, climbing toward the sky.

"Dear God...!"

Only then did I understand what that man had been thinking when he accepted the blow.

"Oh, damn it all — the terrorist is trying to break through the encirclement!"

He was going to launch himself skyward and bolt.

KRRRRUMBLE!!

A flash of lightning split the pitch-black night sky, and a few seconds later, thunder rolled in from far away. Watching it, Mnassil, who sat on the sofa stroking the egg, murmured with evident interest.

"Oho. It pours down as though the heavens themselves have been torn open. A weather I never once saw in the volcano."

Elaine and Erzena, both off work early, were passing the time near her as well.

"Still... the Central Officer is rather late, isn't he? He should have been home more than an hour ago by my count."

"He really shouldn't. Nathan is never usually late..."

"Wuuu."

Erzena looked toward the door with an expression of dawning unease.

"Could something have happened at the Immigration Office?"

"He'll be fine. He is our Central Officer, after all."

Mnassil waved the concern away. But then she laid a hand on her chest, which had begun to throb for no reason she could name.

"And yet... I cannot deny that something feels unsettled, somewhere."

That was when it happened.

KRRRRUMBLE!!

Once again, thunder flashed and thundered across the whole world. Mnassil, who had been staring blankly out the window, flinched suddenly. And then, slowly, she opened her mouth.

"Erzena."

"Yes?"

"Might I ask... can people fly?"

"...Pardon?"

"Unless my eyes deceived me just now, there was a person up in the sky. Flying, rather, at considerable speed."

"..."

"As though something had struck them and sent them flying, at that..."

As if she could hardly make sense of her own words, she frowned and murmured on.

"The face seemed familiar, though..."

The night was dark and the rain came down in sheets, so she hadn't seen properly — but the feeling was unmistakable, as though she had seen him somewhere before. Who was it? Where had she seen him? Gently scratching the egg, she raked through her memories.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

Shaaaaa...

Everyone stood in a daze, staring up at the rain-soaked night sky.

Emergency. A grade-one emergency. This, we truly had not anticipated. Using the attack as his opportunity, he'd let himself be knocked into the sky and punched straight through the encirclement.

The sheer absurdity of it wrung a shout out of me.

"COMMANDER!!! You were supposed to just hit him — why did you throw an uppercut!?"

The commander, apparently thrown into disarray as well, could only repeat the same word, glancing back and forth between its own fist and Kaban, who had vanished into the sky like a star.

There was no time for blame. I seized the Smell Officer, whom I'd been restraining, and shook him frantically.

"Smell Officer! Can you track him!?"

"Damn it, the rain is washing away every scent!"

Of all the times for the rain to come pouring down, why now? The Hearing Officer grimaced too.

"The rain is too loud. It's drowning out every other sound."

Scent and sound are both neutralized by rain. I'd never imagined it would hit us this hard.

Then—

"I can do it."

The Touch Officer, who had been quietly holding the line at the back to keep the guards from being pushed off their positions, raised a tentacle.

"Rain carries almost no vibration. And at that speed, something flying would transmit a massive impact to the ground the moment it hit anything. I can feel that."

Vibration. Of course — that was the answer. I nodded quickly.

"Please, Touch Officer."

"Understood. Everyone, close your eyes!"

With that short cry, the Touch Officer abruptly began shedding his clothes. And there appeared the true form I hadn't seen in a very long time.

"Eeeek!"

"H-hey, turn your head! Turn!"

"You'll go mad if you look!"

The guards and agents blanched and whipped their heads away.

Grrrrrumble.

She pressed her entire mass of tentacles flat against the ground.

Wriggle. Wriggle.

The strange mass pulsed and squirmed with an odd, wet sound. After a moment, the Touch Officer pointed west and spoke.

"Four hundred meters west. I'm feeling a tremendous impact in the alley behind Vivachen Street. Like a meteor strike... he must have been thoroughly flattened."

"F-four hundred?? Seriously?"

A man flew four hundred meters? How hard did that thing punch him?

I gave the garrison commander a look of pure disbelief.

The commander mumbled some half-baked excuse and averted its gaze as inconspicuously as it could. But I couldn't blame it. Kaban was the one who had slyly cracked the encirclement open.

The Touch Officer tilted the tip of a tentacle.

"Ah, he's moving. But the vibration is sluggish. He must be injured."

"Which direction!?"

"He's heading toward Grechen Street."

"...I'm sorry?"

At her words, the blood drained from my face.

Grechen Street. That was the direction leading to my house.

Who's at the house right now?

I raked through my memory. Mnassil. Hannah. The fire spirits. Unfortunately, not one of them could use force. Mnassil went without saying, Hannah was an ordinary person, and the fire spirits would die the moment the rain touched them.

But there were two more people there.

Elaine and Erzena... oh, dear God.

My face went white all over again, for an entirely different reason.

If that man gets inside my house — even on a one-in-a-million chance—

The safety of Mnassil and the egg wouldn't even be the problem. That lunatic, still clad in his dragon armor, could be crushed to a miserable death on the spot. And if that happened, the fact that Elaine and Erzena were currently living in my house would be exposed to the world under a scalding hot spring.

And then the next step would be...

Violation of a royal order of strict secrecy, plus the exposure of a living saint's whereabouts to the Holy Order — a chain leading straight to the worst of all possible worsts.

I saw that future, clear as day.

"NO!!!!"

I cried out, my voice cracking with hysteria.

"I'm forming a pursuit team right now. Five Senses Officers, border defense unit, agents — on me!"

A race against the clock had begun — of a very different kind.