Things a Dead Man Shouldn't Do (4)
The veil had been drawn. The view was obscured. The sun that had hidden itself emerged once more, and the day brightened as though it had never been any different. Yet when thick fog blanketed the region where the Iron Giant had appeared, hiding Karalin and the others from sight, those on the student side—led by Gremory—could not simply stand by. They hastily dispatched an elite strike team that raced toward them.
Breaking through the mist, they found the huntress who had once rained starlight down from above fighting desperately alongside a dragon squadron to bring down the steel hawks. They joined the fray.
“All units, deploy full output and assist the Huntress—!”
“Drive every last one of them out!”
“We are not going to die—!”
“We will return alive…!”
At Gremory’s command the mages and remaining students unleashed a seamless, ferocious barrage. The leftover steel hawks vanished in the blink of an eye.
“Whew. Now that was an unrelenting assault. My thanks, students.”
The huntress who introduced herself as Hylkenbesta offered her gratitude with the breezy cheer of someone who had merely taken a pleasant stroll. Yet the carnage the students witnessed was nothing short of nightmarish.
Every fallen horse had been slaughtered horrifically. Within Karalin’s party, the only one still standing was Eclipse. Jurchen—who had always earned top marks for his sheer toughness—lay crumpled, clinging to consciousness through ghastly wounds. And the most crucial person of all, Karalin herself, was nowhere to be seen. Doubt ignited over whether she still lived.
Even Cryan, the Central Magic Tower’s supernova who should have been here, only smiled faintly in unconsciousness, middle finger raised in a bizarre gesture.
“Cryan—!”
Gremory, who had worried for him more than anyone, moved on pure instinct the moment she saw his blood-drenched form. Fortunately he was not dead. Closer inspection revealed that the revival talisman she had once given him had shattered. In other words, without it Cryan would have suffered injuries that were unquestionably fatal.
Its effect was peerless. There was clearly more than enough reason to carry it all the way to the Bruised City. Seeing her cherished disciple in such a wretched state, Gremory felt her heart twist with pity and aching fondness.
“Still… you kept what I gave you until the very end, and that is why you survived. Cryan, you—”
Eclipse, breathing hard at the sight, spoke to Gremory between gasps.
“G-Gremory, ma’am. I understand it’s a touching reunion, but… this really isn’t the time…! Haa, haa—”
It didn’t seem as though she were panting merely from enduring the insane events that had just unfolded. She squeezed out every ounce of external power she possessed, straining from the very core of her being to spit out the shocking truth.
“Y-Yohan was alive…!!”
“…What?”
At those words every student who had come to help froze solid. Who exactly was she claiming had survived?
“Yohan helped us. I was nearly crushed to death by that giant that appeared in front of us, but Yohan asked Hylken to save me and…”
Hylken crossed her arms and gave a modest shrug at the praise. Eclipse, however, showed no sign of stopping.
“He even suddenly showed up riding a dragon and—bam!—took that monster down all by himself…! That man isn’t even human!”
“Then where is he now?”
“With Lady Karalin. Um… yeah. They went to crush the bastard who orchestrated all of this.”
“The bastard…?”
It seemed difficult for Eclipse to speak the identity aloud; she merely shrugged. In the end it was Hylken who laid the truth bare before everyone. Naturally she seasoned the revelation with just enough tact to keep the North from unnecessary trouble.
“It’s Yagnus, one of the Six Swords of the Demon Army. It appears Crown Prince Vankite conspired with him to create this entire situation, but for whatever reason Yagnus betrayed the prince. The prince is dead. Quite horribly, from the look of things—though I didn’t see it clearly.”
Whether Karalin or Yohan, both had looked ready to tear Vankite limb from limb. Knowing them, they would have killed him long ago. Well, as far as Hylken was concerned, putting a bullet in that worthless trash was a hundred, a thousand times the correct choice. But if that were the case, the idiots incapable of reading the room might bind them with ugly rumors.
Allowing them to be placed in such a position was something her innate rebellious streak refused to permit—long before any loyalty to the North came into it. She had simply spoken in the hope that no one would spout nonsense about the killing of a bastard like that.
Gremory latched onto the words at once.
“…W-what did you just say—?! I can’t believe the Crown Prince would conspire like that, and now you tell me he’s dead—?! And what on earth was Yohan thinking, going off to fight one of the Six Swords—?!”
“You’re asking too many questions. Let’s calm down a little, miss.”
The words could have been called rude, yet Hylken paid it no mind. She had never owed the Magic Tower any loyalty. Still, the magnanimous Gremory simply nodded as though she agreed.
“Ugh. Well… yes, that’s true. Time is of the essence right now.”
“Exactly. So I’m heading out to help my senior. The rest of you, heal the poor, hardworking fallen. And—”
Whoosh—! She snatched a quiver from the nearest archer.
“I also plan to retrieve the lady who followed him. Only those with the guts to come along, follow me. Understood?”
Riding Jabberwock widened the target area and made it difficult to strike Yagnus precisely. Therefore I dismounted from the dragon and joined it on the ground so we could pincer him together.
Slash—!! Yagnus’s claws raked viciously past my front. Hovering in the air, he targeted me with obsessive focus, flowing like water to strike only at my vital points.
Swish—!! No matter how heavy my armor, a single graze from those talons would shred me like paper. Several sections of my plate were already ragged and broken. I therefore summoned the greatest, most unbreakable concentration of my life and devoted myself entirely to blocking his ferocious barrage without taking so much as a scratch.
Of course, the goal was not to die.
Yet after actually fighting him, one thing became clear: the danger of a mere graze was mutual. My fragile human body would perish instantly if torn by his claws. But his own frail iron flesh, should it touch my hands, would be devoured regardless of how strong it was.
In fact, one of his arms had already been violently ripped away. The iron aura he had been radiating nonstop had now weakened; he panted, unable to draw it out properly. I sneered at the sight.
“Didn’t you Six Swords call yourselves unbreakable blades forged from the body of the Goddess of Evil?”
“Krrgh—! Krrggh—!!”
“Then why have you lost an arm to me, Yagnus?”
“Shut up! Shut your mouth—!!”
He was clearly furious. Yet even if he tried to deploy the iron-steel ability characteristic of the Six Swords, it would no longer work on me. With no path of escape left, he was unmistakably feeling the desperate panic of having become the prey.
Still, he was one of the Six Swords. At first even I had been overwhelmed, barely able to exchange blows. The only reason I could now fight him on equal footing was that after devouring his arm, a suspicious power had begun to overflow inside me.
It felt like throwing fresh firewood onto a fire. Like pouring fuel into an engine.
“Kill him, kill him, Master-nim…!! Tear him apart, chew him up, devour him whole! Gonna kill him dead, kya-hahahet—!”
Perhaps it was the effect of having consumed part of one of the strongest blades in the world. Burga, drunk on ecstasy, kept urging me on. It might have been my imagination, but rather than my body being controlled by my mind as usual… it felt as though I were moving on pure primal instinct, the flesh itself speaking.
Burga was being Burga, but honestly, I felt incredible too. A sense of omnipotence wrapped my entire body, as though I could do anything.
“Grrrrr—!!”
“Dragon! Traitor to the demon race! How dare you raise your hand against me, one of the Six Swords!”
At that moment Jabberwock spotted an opening and charged in, creating a gap for me to attack. I hurled myself at him instantly.
He seemed terrified by my refusal to die easily; he thrashed between Jabberwock’s claws. Watching him, I thought:
He’s afraid. That bastard is scared of me.
“Damn it… has Vankite been killed too?!”
For an instant he even muttered the words after sensing the crown prince’s life signal vanish. Flustered, he made one final desperate struggle—ripping the bandages from his face to reveal the abyss beneath.
“Damn you—petrify—!”
“No, no… I’ve seen that trick several times already, remember?”
He had never shown it before, but this was the reason he called himself a bandaged angel and the unique ability that came with it: Iron Petrification. He was trying to use it on me. The name was straightforward enough. Like Medusa, it could harden anyone who met his gaze. Only instead of turning them to stone, it turned them to iron—hence the name.
An ordinary person would have been helpless against that final struggle. But I was a man who had seen this world twenty-two times. I already knew the counter.
Matching the moment he tore the bandages away, I slashed my own eyes without hesitation using the dagger in my left hand.
Squelch—.
Blood poured out. The world went dark. Violent pain engulfed my skull. Yet my body accepted the agony without flinching. In this state I felt I could fight him until the planet itself crumbled.
Flash—!
As always, my body did not petrify.
“Too bad, Yagnus…”
“Graaagh—!”
I could not remember how many times we had repeated this dance while fighting. I would have preferred to simply close my eyes, but the aftereffect of his Iron Petrification was unreasonable—it affected you even with your eyes shut unless you were already blind. That was why, in the original timeline, the party that faced Yagnus had needed the blind girl Vysa. The small girl who had been beside the elf Lumein while fleeing the steel hawks—she had been born without sight and was perfect for buying time while the others dispelled the petrification.
Since I could not do that, I simply destroyed my own eyes. A kind of rule-breaking workaround. And once the aftereffect of his Iron Petrification ended—
“I’ll heal you again…! And please, stop this already. Take better care of your body, you sadistic Master…!”
Shut up.
“…You are my Master, right? You don’t usually speak so harshly.”
With the talkative Azero’s help I restored my sight. Losing one’s eyes was a serious injury. Normally I would have collapsed after only a few repetitions, but having devoured Yagnus’s arm, power—overwhelming, endless power—flooded through me. I barely felt fatigue at all.
“Krrgh, krrggh—! Kha-ha-haha—!”
The strength was so intoxicating I could not stop laughing. I wanted to kill anything and everything. I wanted to kill Yagnus right now. I would devour all Six Swords and make them mine.
Boom—!
With nothing else in my mind I drove my knee into Yagnus’s stomach, knocking him down, then seized the iron-spiked body that mimicked a human form.
And then… I devoured it.
“Crunch, crack, snap, grind, crunch—!!”
It felt as though all of his power was pouring into my body. My entire being drowned in pure white pleasure. The sensation was beyond words.
“I-impossible…! I am one of the Six Swords. An unbreakable demonic blade…!!”
“What are you talking about? You broke. You were devoured. How does it feel to spend your whole life slaughtering humans only to have your existence erased by me? Wonderful, isn’t it? Isn’t it?!”
“You— you—!!”
His body began to be sucked up through my hands. I felt something writhing flow into me. It was the Iron Spirit itself—the very essence of his being. The power accumulated across eons since the Demon King’s birth surged into me.
“Apologize to every soul you killed. Apologize to the huntresses. Apologize to the students. Apologize to the students whose stomachs were torn open, who will carry that trauma for the rest of their lives.”
“Aaaah, O Demon King—!!”
“But I have no intention of accepting your apology. Neither will they. So just die.”
Ssssh—.
Thus the trusted direct subordinate of the Demon King—one of humanity’s greatest evils, who could never be killed—shattered miserably in my grasp and vanished.
“Filthy human… then receive Gorgo… just as you said… I will not… simply die…!!”
With those last words, a suspicious light flashed from his remaining hand. Yet I no longer had the capacity to respond.
Wait—my head…!
Having absorbed him, my mind was beginning to fracture. Everything grew distant. A demonic impulse I knew I must not yield to clawed at my chest and squeezed. The only other thing I could sense was an unknown, chilling presence that had suddenly appeared behind me.
“You have finally crawled out. From that deep, deep purgatory.”
A low voice called to me.
“So you are the new Six Sword?”
“Krrk, krrrk…?!”
Jabberwock bristled, body rigid.
“My lady!”
“You are Hylkenbesta. You came to help? My thanks!”
Finding Karalin was easy. She was moving through the area where she had been separated from Yohan, her armor drenched in blood. There was no time for long conversation, but she too seemed to be searching for him. Every student who had joined her scoured the area, trying to locate Yohan, who appeared to be fighting Yagnus even now.
Yet finding him proved no easy task.
“You cannot sense his presence at all…?”
“Yes, Lady Karalin. We are finding traces in several places, but none of them feel certain!”
“We must find him quickly. Yohan could die. Hurry!”
The entire nearby forest had been shredded by claws and iron shards; one could instantly tell how brutal the battle had been. Yet because he had been fighting a winged demon, he had inevitably been drawn far from where he had parted with Karalin. With no way to signal his location, anxiety flooded Karalin’s mind at the thought that his life might once again hang by a thread.
What aided them was a black dragon whose scales had been torn away, wheezing in pain—Jabberwock. The creature flew in from afar, trembling wings ragged, and cried out to its original master Hylken as though pleading. No one knew what had happened to leave it so badly wounded. Ignoring the question, it simply guided Karalin, Gremory, and the rest of the students to a certain spot.
There they found a black-haired man they all knew, kneeling. Beside him stood a cold-featured, short-haired beautiful boy who looked strikingly like Karalin.
“…Kh?!”
The moment they saw the scene, every one of them felt the same oppressive instinct the magic tomes had felt—to flee this place at once. It was only natural. The moment a human laid eyes on one of the Six Swords, this reaction was inevitable. Even Yohan had felt it when he deceived Yagnus using Rorschach. The fact that Yohan had been able to press the fight earlier was only because Burga, who could pierce that terror, had taken control and seized the demon’s neck.
They were not Yohan.
“You have come, filthy children of humans.”
The short-haired beautiful boy greeted them in a neutral voice, speaking for the kneeling Yohan beside him. The others might not have understood, but Karalin recognized the face instantly.
“Lady Gorgo…?!”
“Oh? So you are a child of the Vitagarte line?”
“Lady Gorgo, why are you here…!”
“Why am I here? I have simply been released from the long years I spent trapped in purgatory, unable to die.”
Gorgo spoke with her hands clasped behind her back.
“And I have also come to celebrate the birth of a new Six Sword.”
The statement carried dangerous implications. Celebrating a Six Sword? Setting aside the fact that she had awakened, there was no reason for Gorgo—who had fought on the side of humanity as the Hero’s closest ally and friend—to say such a thing. Had she betrayed mankind?
To that natural question, Gorgo answered.
“I am sorry, child of Vitagarte. I am not the Gorgo you know. All that remains within me now are her memories, her instincts, and her body.”
She laughed wildly.
“I am one of the Six Swords that child once tried to destroy—Asparug…! The one who devours minds and brings silence! I am your greatest calamity…!”
Beside her the black-haired man hung his head and muttered.
“I… I…”
He seemed to be murmuring as though his mind had shattered. At the sight Karalin could only scream.
“No, Yohan!”
“Heh heh heh haaht. Did you think you were the only one who ever tried to break a blade? Everything is destined to unfold this way. Break a sword, and the one who broke it becomes the next Six Sword…! Foolish creatures—did you not realize what had happened to Gorgo?!”
Karalin, lost in an abyss of despair she could not process, ran toward the kneeling Yohan. If she could see him again she would do anything. She had been chewing on the sense of loss and painful confusion she had felt all this time. If she were to lose Yohan as Asparug claimed, then she feared nothing—not even death—if it meant staying with him until the final moment.
“How touching, child of Vitagarte. Then I shall kill you first…!”
Yet the instant those words left his mouth—the first declaration that he would kill Karalin—someone among them ground their teeth and quietly spoke.
“Fuck you, you son of a bitch…”
“…What?”
The voice came from beside Asparug. It was quiet, but perfectly clear.
“If you touch even one hair on her head… I will chase you to the ends of hell and kill you…”
At those words both Karalin’s and the terrified students’ pupils dilated. As Asparug turned in confusion to look at him—
“And I promised… that I would return alive…”
Yohan moved faster than anyone could react. He pulled a scroll from his belt and hurled it.
“Regret stealing a Northerner’s body, Six Sword—!!”
“…K-kh?! K-kyaaaaaaaagh?!!”
BOOOOOOM—!!
Asparug tried to move in panic, but in less than five seconds his body froze solid. It was the special scroll Loban had once received—the one that froze even the Thunder Clan. Yohan, who had nearly had his mind stolen by a fragment of the Goddess of Evil, had returned at the words he hated most in the world and thrown it.
No one could stop him from meeting his lady again. Because there were still far too many things Yohan wanted to do for her.