Ashumar of the Four Heavenly Kings (6)
Beatrice was waiting at the position Sisilia had designated.
...Can I really do this?
The subjugation battle against Four Heavenly King Ashumar. The plan was as follows.
First, at the assigned position, eliminate Ashumar's kin in one fell swoop on Sisilia's command.
Second, the Windsor Knights retreat, and the moment it's confirmed, Sisilia unleashes Wind Shear.
Third, Sisilia Windsor inflicts fatal damage on Ashumar, staking her life as collateral.
Fourth, the instant Wind Shear fades, Beatrice activates Valhalla to prevent Sisilia's death.
And finally, the fifth: the entire Windsor Knights charge in to finish off Ashumar.
Beatrice's role in all this was simply to cast Valhalla.
Yet she felt more anxious than ever.
...Back then, it felt like something cosmic came and went inside me.
The first time she'd cast Valhalla—Beatrice had sensed some pan-dimensional force guiding her. It was an inexorable flow; resisting it was impossible. In other words, it hadn't been her own will.
...Honestly, she wasn't sure she could use Valhalla again.
"Why do you look like you're about to shit yourself?"
Hyter pushed through the bushes and asked.
Beatrice sighed in relief upon recognizing him, but she stayed crouched, trembling.
"I-I can't help it."
Beatrice could hardly stand how pathetic she felt, but the crushing pressure—like she might puke—overwhelmed her even more.
"...If I mess up, we're all dead."
Hyter stared at Beatrice for a moment, then flashed a grin, channeling his senior knight vibes for the first time in ages.
"Betty. 'What if' and 'maybe'—those words don't exist in this world."
"...But you just said them."
Hyter cleared his throat at Beatrice's unexpectedly sharp(?) retort and quickly changed the subject.
"Auras trace back to faith, in the end. They're powers born from intense belief in the Goddess."
The origin of Auras. Fundamentally, it started with people offering prayers to the Goddess, and her granting them.
"But it wasn't easy. The criteria were vague, and only a select few could gain anything from prayer. You know? The Goddess is kinda discriminatory."
Sometimes she'd answer, sometimes not. Some people could, others couldn't. Humans couldn't fathom the standard.
They felt her intent to help, but from a human perspective, it was frustrating. The Goddess must've struggled too. With people begging to turn stones to gold or resurrect the dead.
The one who changed that paradigm was a single great leader.
...None other than Empress Lydia, who sometimes seemed unbelievably immature.
"Her Majesty realized: believing in yourself is truer than believing in a god. The Goddess heeded her request and shaped Auras as we know them."
After that, humans began fighting with their own power.
Humans, once barely surviving, started pushing back demon territory one by one. It began then.
"Got it? We follow the Goddess, but we don't worship her. We trust ourselves completely. That's humanity's greatest strength."
Hyter plopped his hand on Beatrice's head.
"Believe. In yourself, in Sisilia, in all of us. Don't think about failure. Today will succeed, no exceptions."
"...That's hard."
But Beatrice was still dampened.
They say aides end up like their superiors... Well, Sisilia's confidence isn't the copycat kind anyway.
Sisilia could look at a rock and truly believe it was gold.
Whether from genius intellect or utter idiocy, Beatrice couldn't say.
Hm? Wait, then...
Hyter recalled apt advice and blurted it out.
"Then believe in Sisilia."
"I can do that easy, but... will it help?"
"Happened once before."
Hyter reminisced vividly about that time—when Sisilia headed out for war training.
"Warfields aren't for 11-year-olds, y'know. And back then, Sisilia was—unimaginably pampered compared to now. Always fed the best, dressed in the finest."
Maybe that's where she got spoiled.
But that tiny girl, barely able to walk steadily, wielded a sword better than most knights. Impossible not to adore her. Especially since Sisilia was exceptionally pretty and cute.
"War rations are that watery porridge slop. Sure, a tantrum might score something better. But Lord Chiron ordered her to eat like the soldiers in the field. We figured she'd whine. Still a kid, raised like royalty."
Hyter chuckled.
"But she scarfed it down like it was delicious."
Beatrice nodded. Sisilia was absurd, but she had that warmth.
"She's got a kind heart, as expected."
"At first, we thought so too. But get this—"
Hyter recalled it and made a dumbfounded face.
"She said it was beef stew. Delicious beef stew."
"...Wasn't it porridge?"
"Obviously no beef in it. But Sisilia insisted, no matter what anyone said: beef porridge."
"Classic Sisilia."
"And damn if it didn't taste like real beef stew."
"W-what?!"
Was the whole unit hallucinating?
But Hyter still remembered that taste vividly.
"Maybe we were crazy. But we decided to believe it."
No matter how you looked, watery porridge. Yet when that bland slop hit your tongue, it carried the rich savor of beef.
"What Sisilia wants always comes true."
"...Isn't that a different story?"
The war situation back then was hopeless, practically.
But Sisilia declared with the same unshakable conviction as with the porridge:
"-We'll win."
Even Sisilia couldn't grasp the battlefield reality then. First deployment, just 11 years old.
But everyone believed her. Like faith itself.
And that battlefield ended in humanity's overwhelming victory.
"My experience—believing costs nothing."
"...!"
Hyter said earnestly.
"So if you can't trust yourself, trust Sisilia. She's probably not even considering the chance you fail with Valhalla."
Then, immense mana surged. Hyter and Beatrice looked toward it simultaneously.
"It's starting."
Beatrice just stared blankly.
At the irresistible domain of wind.
"Impossible."
Clang!
"This is impossible—!"
Ashumar swung his sword madly. It was just a tree branch.
That branch didn't snap or break.
He wanted to deny the unbelievable, but this was stark reality.
Sisilia was holding off Four Heavenly King Ashumar—with a mere tree branch.
"This is—impossible!"
Feeling his entire existence denied, Ashumar swung wide.
Sisilia parried at the perfect timing.
Then—
Thud.
Ashumar threw both hands sky-high.
"Long live the king."
"...Damn you, insolent bitch!"
Ashumar charged again.
Sisilia tripped him this time.
Crash!
Ashumar scrambled to recover and stand, but Sisilia's branch already touched his forehead.
"Gap found."
Sisilia poked his forehead with the branch.
To Ashumar, it was an unbearable insult.
"Kuhuhu."
He laughed unwittingly.
"Kuhahaha!"
The laugh exploded uncontrollably.
"Wahaha."
Sisilia tried laughing along, but it wasn't funny, so she stopped.
"Fine, I admit it. You're strong."
Ashumar rose as if floating.
Shing—
His armor sealed every gap on his body.
"But you just missed your one chance to kill me. Regret that arrogance even in the Goddess's embrace."
Demon God's Armor. As long as the wearer's mana didn't bottom out, it healed infinitely. For him, with a mana heart, it meant near-endless recovery.
Plus, normal attacks didn't work.
Ashumar had always sought honorable combat risking his life. He hadn't planned to use it against Sisilia, since it made death impossible.
But she hadn't honored him.
And he wouldn't honor her.
All that remained: crush the arrogant human with everything.
"If you die to me, you can't reach the Demon God."
But first, her attitude grated.
Ashumar growled low.
"Come to think of it, I forgot to mention."
Sisilia beamed.
"I'll hear your last words."
"Before coming here, I killed a knight. Name's Gallerhead—"
Sisilia's irritated smile went blank.
Ashumar froze at the sudden chill.
"...Gallerhead's dead?"
He stepped back unwittingly.
...Am I scared of her right now?
Unbelievable. No, it shouldn't be.
Ashumar wanted to deny it. Prove it.
That he, with centuries of life, feared a human not even 1/100th his age.
Especially since.
It worked.
His goal: rile her even a little.
"Yeah, butchered him good. He kept waiting for someone till the end. That hope annoyed me, so I left without even finishing his last breath."
But Sisilia's boiling aura unexpectedly calmed.
She stared at Ashumar and said,
"So you didn't see him die."
"Regrettable, but no chance he's alive. He's a cold corpse by now."
"No."
Sisilia denied flatly.
"Gallerhead's still alive."
"Self-delusion? Even you resort to that when cornered. Sorry, but—"
"Heard of Schrödinger's Gallerhead?"
Ashumar, after long silence, asked back.
"...What's that?"
"You didn't observe Gallerhead's death. Till you see the body, he could be alive or dead."
Sisilia closed her eyes briefly.
Imagined a box, opened it—Gallerhead crouched inside. Annoyed, she bonked his head and opened her eyes.
She raised one finger, eyes gleaming.
"Just checked. Gallerhead's alive."
Not mere rationalization.
Ashumar sensed it instinctively. This human truly believed that knight lived.
Common sense: he'd killed countless humans; no way he'd miss if one survived.
Ashumar felt inexpressible frustration.
"Ridiculous. That sophistry won't revive the dead? Let me be clear: Knight Gallerhead is definitely—"
Ashumar panicked at yet another incomprehensible phenomenon.
His vision vanished.
Sisilia had grabbed his face with one hand and slammed it into the ground.
Boom—!
Ashumar raged to rise, but couldn't.
What power...!
No matter how he struggled, he couldn't escape her grip.
Sisilia pressed his nape coldly.
"If I say so, it is. Too chatty."
Sisilia finally concluded her deliberation.
Ashumar would die as painfully as possible.
The crime: nearly killing Gallerhead.