The One Who Answers When I Call #5
The light vanished.
He blinked, but nothing came into view.
It wasn’t even darkness. Just a colorless void where no sensation could reach. Emil kept blinking for a long time, checking again and again, yet nothing changed.
It wasn’t a problem with his eyes. His optic nerves, or perhaps his brain—or some part of his soul—had simply been switched off.
Even so, it didn’t matter. As long as he could hear and feel, that was enough.
The senses left behind by Pidea’s power remained.
The flow of air against his skin, vibrations, the clack of hooves striking stone, the clash of metal. He could distinguish with perfect clarity the sound of swords, shields, and armor drawing near.
“There’s one over there!”
‘One, you say?’
That was wrong. It should have been only one.
He understood why they thought that.
If they had seen the carnage inside the tower, they would never have believed a single person could have done it.
Unfortunately, it really had been just one.
Emil calmly counted their footsteps.
Thirty. Forty. Fifty. Fifty-five in total.
Of those, about thirty-eight were properly armed.
There were no elites among them.
That meant Alon Ricgard had not yet arrived.
For now, all he had to deal with was noise.
“Pidea.”
[Yeah, I know. I gave you everything.]
Strength began to return to Emil’s left arm.
Even so, it wouldn’t last as long as his right arm had.
He had already abused his demonic energy far too much.
“Kill him!”
But if it was just enough to hold out until Alon Ricgard arrived, it would suffice.
The first fool who charged in recklessly exposed his weakness.
Emil twisted his body, lowered his shoulder at an angle, caught the swinging blade with his bare hand, and yanked it away.
“Wh-what? He caught the sword with his hand…”
Still gripping the blade, Emil swung the sword and smashed the pommel into the man’s face.
Since he had more than enough strength, as long as the weapon was long enough, it didn’t matter whether he used the edge or the hilt.
“Ugh… aaagh!”
Before the scream could fully spread,
he spun sideways and swept the second man’s legs out from under him.
The soldier’s leg turned to pulp and he toppled sideways. His shield tangled with the feet of the comrade behind him, and in an instant three men collapsed in a heap.
Emil took two or three running steps, planted the sword in his left hand against the ground, and leapt.
A weapon swung by someone struck the back of his head, but he felt nothing. Normally he would have lost consciousness, but right now he didn’t even have the luxury of fainting.
“He’s blind! Keep your eyes closed!”
Someone shouted.
A sword slammed into Emil. Blood spurted from his shoulder. His body twisted and his balance collapsed.
Yet Emil ignored it and stabbed his opponent in the gut.
A sticky warmth soaked his palm.
At that moment, someone grabbed his left arm.
“Got h—”
That was a truly stupid thing to do.
When Emil swung his arm as if shaking off trash, the man turned into something that was an appropriate mix of armor and meat.
“Oh God, it’s a monster. A monster!”
How many were left now?
His senses were beginning to blur.
Emil stepped back and caught his breath. It felt like his lungs were burning.
‘My demonic energy is draining away.’
Even Pidea remained silent.
Perhaps he had grown so weak that he could no longer hear her voice.
‘Damn it, even my arm…’
His left arm, like his right, was gradually stiffening,
and his steps grew unbearably heavy.
Blood dripped steadily.
From his mouth, his ears, inside his nose. His senses were beginning to go numb.
There were probably three soldiers left.
A short while ago he could have turned them into lumps of meat with a single gesture, but now… he couldn’t be sure.
Emil raised the hand holding the sword high and staggered.
“You idiot. He’s stopped moving. Go finish him!”
Someone yelled,
and at that moment Emil twisted his body in a posture even he couldn’t recognize and swung his final strike.
A sharp metallic ring,
followed by a death cry.
Was this the end?
His knees buckled.
Slowly, quietly, he collapsed to the floor.
A dull thud, and dust rose.
His consciousness flickered.
He could hold on no longer.
‘No. Not yet. Just a little… yes, just a little more.’
Then, heavy and familiar footsteps approached.
Hard heels. Iron-reinforced boots.
Behind them, several knights seemed to be escorting a single person.
“Good heavens… what is this? What the hell happened here? Is this the work of the reserve troops Neil hid away? Hey, you there! Answer me. Where did the bastards who did this run off to?”
It was Alon Ricgard’s voice.
The last remaining soldier, sitting in stunned despair, answered him.
“It wasn’t them, Lord Alon. It was… that one. Just him alone. He… he killed everyone…”
“What? What nonsense are you spouting… I’m asking where the ones who killed your comrades went!”
“It wasn’t them… It’s a monster, my lord!”
“Damn it, he’s lost his mind. Useless bastard!”
The sound of a neck being severed soon followed.
Alon Ricgard snorted angrily and turned in this direction.
“Now the only one left to question is that thing.”
Alon approached.
Ten steps. Nine. Eight.
Yes. Come closer. Hurry.
“Hey, you corpse. Are you still alive? If you’re alive, answer me. Who are you? Where did your comrades come from? Are you one of Neil Bloodfire’s men?”
“I’m sorry, but you’re completely wrong, my lord…”
When Emil answered with great effort, Alon Ricgard flinched, then quickly realized who he was.
“So it’s that priest bastard! Did you go to Locni and call for reinforcements?”
Reinforcements from Locni?
There had been no such thing.
“Filthy son of a bitch. I should have killed you long ago. Just how the hell did you escape the castle?”
But Emil did not tell him the truth.
The more Alon misunderstood the situation, the more thoroughly he would prepare to chase Leni. And with only a small group, Leni’s party would be able to slip away easily.
“I definitely ordered the gates locked so no one could leave the castle. So how did you get out and call for help?”
“Ah, is that what you’re curious about? It’s quite simple… cough.”
“Speak quickly.”
Alon snarled menacingly.
Emil answered in a low voice.
“My lord, I have one request. After you hear my answer, could you kindly kill me without pain? My body hurts terribly.”
“Ha, pathetic fool.”
Hearing those words, Alon walked closer.
Seven steps. Six. Five. Four.
Good. Just a little closer…
“Fine, answer me. I’ll make it painless as you wish. How did you escape the castle? Did someone help you?”
“Yes, that’s correct. It was your cow… I plowed the fields with your cow.”
“What?”
Alon seemed unable to understand.
“Ah, my lord… could you come just a little closer? My throat is so dry I can barely speak loudly.”
Alon came closer again.
As expected, he wasn’t on guard.
Of course he wouldn’t be.
Right now Emil couldn’t even hold onto the sword he was gripping; he was in no condition to move even a single finger.
“Answer me now.”
“Very well, my lord. You should be able to hear me now… so, what I meant by what I just said was…”
Emil deliberately spoke in a crawling whisper.
The moment Alon irritably lowered his head,
“I fucked your wife, my lord.”
“…What?”
In that instant, Emil moved.
The last spark Pidea had left ignited within his corpse-like body.
He charged at Alon, collapsing on top of him as they fell together.
“Ugh—this fucking bastard…!”
“I fucked your wife, my lord. The noble Lady Cately!”
He drew the dagger from Alon’s belt
and drove it into his shoulder.
But that wasn’t enough.
Emil forced his collapsing body upright. He opened his mouth. And then he bit down on Alon’s throat.
“Ugh!”
A scream escaped Alon. The knights rushed right up to them. But it was already too late.
Pidea’s final spark exploded from Emil’s mouth like a burst of flame.
Countless swords from the knights pierced Emil’s entire body from every direction. They dug into every part of him.
But at the same time, the last flame accumulated inside Emil’s body erupted outward and set Alon ablaze.
“Ugh, aaagh—!”
Emil was holding Alon in his arms.
He never let go.
Alon Ricgard died without leaving behind a single word of last will.
Only after confirming that
did Emil slowly collapse.
Blood flowed. The flames died.
A strange smile lingered at the corner of Emil’s mouth.
His arms had melted. His body had been torn apart.
Yet for the first time, a gentle tranquility settled inside Emil’s chest.
Emil quietly exhaled his final breath.
Death came to him quietly like that.
Silently.
Peacefully.
He could rest now.
[…I can’t let you do that, Emil.]
A voice reached him.
It was a warm voice.
[I need you. Now I can be certain. Emil. Only you… will tell me the things I want to know.]
Something warm flowed down.
They were Pidea’s tears.
Emil wanted to wipe them away,
but he could not.
[Don’t go, Emil.]
Her tears fell again,
and soaked into him as they landed.
[Don’t leave me.]