Save the Villainess (4)
K-Charles de Lumière.
Set aside those monsters who existed outside every known scale of power, and he was a man who might well have stood at the very peak. A man who loved his students so sincerely that he walked away from mercenary work to become a professor. Once they had called him the Mercenary King — a man who used to command hundreds of gold per contract. And right now…
"…Did I already mention it's been a while?"
"…Thirty-two times."
"…Sorry about that. Mercenary King."
"…You still say that even after switching careers to professor."
"…Ah."
He was spending an exceedingly uncomfortable stretch of time with the Shadow King he hadn't seen in ages. You'd think two people who already knew each other might pass the wait with a bit of conversation. Unfortunately, they were about as compatible as cats and dogs.
"Hey, Mercenary King. Word is you're good. Any interest in taking a job from our side?"
"Get lost."
"Haha, don't be like that."
"You gone deaf, old man? I said get lost."
"…This little shit. I've been patient, but—"
"What, you spend all those years doing nothing but fighting?"
"Kept company with the sun, you could say."
"Next time, I really will kill you."
"And you think you've got it in you?"
Charles, as it happened, had yet to grow up. Ian had spent years knocking about on the streets. With no clear winner between them, they had done nothing but brawl, and all they had to show for it was a steadily deepening grudge. After that, Charles went to war and Ian took to raising Yuria, and the two of them went their separate ways.
Which was to say, this reunion of theirs—
"Coming up on twenty years already."
—was that long overdue.
"So it is."
"Wasn't easy for you either, I imagine."
"Nothing compared to the Shadow King."
Looking back on it now, it was nothing more than a memory of their younger days. The two men snorted a laugh.
"So. What brings you here?"
Charles let out a sigh.
"I received a request from a student of mine."
"Anyone who'd come asking you for a favor must be a student with money to burn."
"What kind of professor takes money from his students?"
Ian's eyes went wide.
"You? The money-grubbing devil himself?"
"…That was twenty years ago."
Charles offered a sad little smile.
"Ah…"
Ian seemed to catch on to something. He took a sip of water and changed the subject.
"Must be an outstanding student, then. Outstanding enough that a man of your caliber would actually do him a favor."
"Well…"
Charles found himself thinking of Eugene, unbidden.
Does the Headmaster know about this too? — a performance staged among a crowd of countless people for the sole purpose of calling Charles out and no one else.
That scarecrow? I'm going to smash it.
But I survived, didn't I? Meeting her in person, Vivian wasn't all that much.
A boy who had made the impossible happen. And more than that—
I have to get back up.
—a boy who, even in the most hopeless of situations, neither broke nor stayed down. And as if that weren't enough:
Blame someone else for a change. My body ending up like this — it's definitely not your fault, Professor.
Eugene himself had been the one suffering most, and still he had gone out of his way to comfort Charles. Only then had Charles understood what the Headmaster had told him.
It will be hard, but keep him close. While I'm gone, that child will be a great strength to you.
It had been exactly as she'd said. At first Charles had found everything about the boy disagreeable. Now he was a child Charles could follow even with his doubts set aside. That was what Eugene was to him. Vivian had stripped him of his power, but even that, Charles was certain, the boy would overcome before long.
A smile crept onto Charles's face before he knew it.
"…Outstanding doesn't begin to cover it."
He hesitated a moment, then assembled a reasonably suitable collection of words.
"The way he talks is a little infuriating, but all in all, he's an extraordinary kid."
Ian snorted.
"If you're the one saying so, he must be something. Come to think of it, I ran into a brat like that myself just a while ago."
You call that a secret plan if you're telling the old man about it? That's just a plan.
It's a se-cret plan, I'm telling you.
"Well. Infuriating doesn't cover it — I wanted to smack him one, honestly. But how do I put this. He was weak, and yet you got the feeling he'd never, ever break."
"That's probably the same kid I was talking about."
"Then we're definitely talking about the same one. I don't love saying this out loud, but if the two of us are acknowledging him at the same time, that about settles it."
The two of them snorted a laugh.
"Anyway. What was this favor he asked of you?"
"That's…"
At the place where the orb had shattered, a message that looked as though it had been carved with a dagger.
Attack the old man.
That was all it said. Looked at one way, it almost seemed as though the original phrasing — Respect the elderly — had been stepped on and warped out of shape. But considering everything Eugene had done so far, Charles couldn't quite dismiss the possibility that the instruction was exactly what it said. Which meant Charles had no choice but to seriously consider it.
…Do I actually have to hit him?
"Hm? What's that look for?"
"It's nothing."
"Nothing? That's the look you used to get."
"It's nothing. …Probably."
"Probably? Look here. Mercenary King?"
Charles agonized over it in silence, but the theory that Eugene had been in a hurry, stepped on the writing, and accidentally erased part of it was the more plausible of the two. He decided to go with that.
"The thing is…"
Charles laid it out for Ian.
"I believe he asked me to protect you."
"Me? Why on earth?"
"I don't fully understand it myself. But he's not the type to do things for no reason, so I intend to follow through."
Ian was genuinely impressed.
"Well now… I didn't know you were capable of saying a thing like that, Mercenary King."
"You do realize I'm a professor now."
"Let's leave it at that. Still, though — why me…"
Ian puzzled over the reason for a moment, then snorted a laugh in spite of himself.
"Ah, well. Doesn't matter. You can head back."
"You'll be in danger."
"Listen to you. Who's going to come all the way out to a shack in the middle of the night with nothing in it but a sick old man?"
Charles sighed.
"A lot of people, as it turns out."
"What?"
"I meant to tell you earlier. I put it off because it wasn't important."
"Put it off? Tell me what, exactly?"
Charles hesitated a beat, then rose from his seat and yanked the door open. Beyond it, something dark thrashed and struggled into view.
"Let us go, you son of a bitch!"
"Ghh…"
"S-spare…"
Nearly thirty people lay pinned and crushed beneath a massive iron bar. Mad Dog Dexter was among them, along with the elites who had set out with him in search of Honey Man.
Ian sighed.
"I really must be getting old. A racket like that, with brutes that size, and I didn't even notice."
"You're telling me."
"Heavens… What in the world is…"
He was just starting to piece the situation together when a breathless voice came tearing up the steep hill below.
"S-Sir! Head of Swordsmanship!!"
They rushed outside to look. Yuria stood there, gasping for air, and the words tumbled out of her.
Night, with the moon hanging at its zenith. In a shantytown that had been nothing but silence, Yuria raised her voice for the first time.
"Eugene is in danger!!"
"Yuria?"
Charles should have been the first to react. This time, Ian was faster.
"Yuria!!"
Ian came rushing out after them and forced his poison-tainted aura into his eyes, sharpening his sight.
A wet, wracking cough. That alone was enough to send blood spilling from his mouth as he crumpled, but none of that mattered right now.
"No — Yuria, your… your face, what happened to…"
Ian staggered back to his feet and started crawling, more than walking, toward the steep hill. Charles said nothing. He simply hoisted Ian onto his back. The moment his feet touched the ground, the two of them were already standing in front of her.
"Yuria!!"
"Grandpa!!"
A clumsy tumble — Ian slid off Charles's back, hit the ground, scrambled up, and ran to her.
"Ah…! Yuria! What in the world is this…!!"
"I'm really okay. I'm just so glad you're safe, Grandpa…"
"The wounds… the wounds…!!"
His wrinkled hands hovered and circled and could not bring themselves to touch a single one of them.
What's the point of living all pathetic like that, old man? I'm gonna chew you all to pieces anyway.
…
Nah. I'll kill you last. Gonna eat the rest of them first.
Dexter's words from the past slammed back into Ian all at once.
"That tear-him-apart, I'll—!!!"
He tried to wring every last drop of aura from his body, as if he meant to rip Dexter to pieces on the spot. But then—
"Eugene might die!!"
Yuria's voice snapped him back.
"Eugene — you mean that boy from earlier…"
Before Ian could even react, Charles, who had been standing beside him, stepped toward Yuria.
"Lead the way. You can explain as we go."
"Yes, Professor!!"
"W-wait just a minute!!"
The two of them were about to break into a run when Ian blocked their path. He hesitated, then made his request.
"Listen, Mercenary King. I know it's shameless of me, but… could you take me with you?"
His body was poisoned and weakened. He had no choice but to ask.
If only I hadn't been poisoned…
It was a regret he nursed every day, but seeing Yuria's wounds made it crash over him twice as hard.
I never should have trusted that vile bastard.
As if he had read Ian's mind, Charles nodded.
"Of course. That would be better."
"…Thank you."
"Then go."
"Yes, Professor!!"
Charles slung Ian onto his back and followed Yuria as she sprinted with everything she had.
"So. What happened?"
"It's…"
Yuria laid it all out, clean and in order. How she had gone out on an errand for Ian. How Dexter had kidnapped her. How Eugene had come to save her. And then—
"…Eugene stayed behind. Alone."
"Alone?"
Yuria nodded. Tears welled in those golden eyes, and Charles cut in, his voice cold and flat.
"Feelings later."
"…Yes, Professor."
"So. Enemy numbers?"
"A hundred, at a conservative count. Fifty of Dexter's thugs, about thirty mercenaries around mid-tier Expert, ten high-tier Expert mercenaries, plus Paloma and his guard — roughly ten more."
Charles's mouth shut.
A force that size, and the Imperial Army hasn't made a sound… The Ramis family pulled some strings.
Fifty ranging from F-rank to C-rank. Thirty hovering around B-rank. Ten A-rank mercenaries, and if you counted Paloma Ramis and his guard, most of those would be A-rank as well.
…Should I call for support?
He considered it for a moment, then shook his head.
The scale of this is wrong. Odds are high the cult is involved. And as Zion stands right now, there's no one I can easily trust.
Handling it alone was the best option. Besides—
…I might be able to pull it off.
Not every A-rank was the same A-rank. If Vivian hadn't been the one to set the standard for S-rank, Charles would likely have been the first to reach it.
I'll be putting my life on the line, obviously… but if it means I can save that kid Eugene.
While Charles steeled himself for the worst, Yuria fought hard to hold back her tears. Eugene kept flickering through her mind.
Listen carefully, Yuria.
When you get home, Chulsoo… no, the Head of Swordsmanship will be there.
Why would the Professor be there?
Just bring him. While you're fetching the Professor, I'll hold out the way I am now.
Eugene had been smiling.
You can do that, right?
…Let's just run. Together.
And if the people in the shantytown get taken as hostages? That's even more dangerous.
She had lived her whole life in the backstreets, and even she was shaking this badly. And Eugene had been too busy comforting her.
Yuria. You can do it, right?
"…So I will. I swear."
I'll save you. Even if it meant she had to kill every last enemy the way she had before.
"…I don't care anymore."
Her voice was going wet, but those golden raptor eyes shone cold.
"That the place?"
"Yes, Professor!!"
The moment they arrived at the abandoned factory, a hideous scream tore through the night.
"Eugene!!"
"Hold."
Yuria tried to bolt forward in a panic, but Charles caught her and stopped her cold. He knew. For a person to scream like that, they had to be suffering something worse than death.
"I'll check first."
"No. We go together."
Yuria shook his hand off at once. A storm erupted in the same breath — mana handled with such violence that a person would shred like paper at the merest touch of it.
"Be careful you don't get caught in it."
"…I will."
Charles finished answering and stretched a hand toward the abandoned paper factory. Gray aura rippled. Then—
A deep, groaning crunch. A cascading shriek of metal.
As Charles closed his fist, every scrap of iron crumpled like so much paper. The steel-plated roof. The solidly raised frame. The reinforced steel door they had bolted on when they converted the place into a hideout. All of it folded in on itself in a single motion, and the factory's hidden interior lay fully exposed.
In that instant—
"S-save me!! Please, somebody save me!!!!"
Someone in a black robe came crawling, dragging himself across the floor, fleeing out of the factory.
"…That's."
It was unmistakably the robe Eugene had been wearing.
"Please… somebody, anyone…!!"
A hand stretched toward them. A voice shredded raw from screaming. And above all—
"…Ah, Yu-Yuria!!"
Her own name, cried out in desperation. It had to be Eugene.
"…How could they do this to a person."
"…Stay back."
There didn't look to be a single unharmed place left on his body. However horrific the torture had been, it had left nothing intact.
"We kill them all and we save him."
"Yes, Professor."
Charles raised a hand to the sky.
STEEL RAIN
A grinding, clustering roar — then a sharp, ringing crack. The compacted iron drew itself into a host of vicious stakes, poised to fall like rain. Yuria quietly gathered her mana. Killing intent rode the whipping wind until it was sharp enough to cut through anything at all.
"…Just a little longer, Eugene."
"We go."
The two of them were drawing every last ounce of their power, ready to strike — when a man in a suspicious mask strolled out from behind the figure crawling on the ground.
"This bastard's asking to die. Still hasn't learned his lesson, putting Yuria's name in his mouth."
"Uh…"
That man was Eugene.
"Ah, Yuria!"
Covered head to toe in blood and sweat, he looked at her and waved with a face of pure sunshine.
"Perfect timing, huh?"
"What… what is this right now…?"
"Ah! Don't worry! That's Paloma."
Yuria, Charles, and Ian all sat there in matching, companionable stupor.
"Hang on! Let me finish beating him real quick!"
"Huh?"
"It's fine! That's Paloma!"
"No, what do you mean that's—"
Ignoring their opinions entirely, Eugene walked back over to Paloma.
"Why do you keep running off and making this difficult."
"Aaaah…!! Please, stop…!!!"
"Come here while I'm still asking nicely."
The next instant—
A sickening, full-bodied crack.
Eugene's black sword, swung still in its scabbard, smashed into both of Paloma's shins with everything he had.
"Ghhhaaaauuughhhhh!!!!"
"Hah… Finally. The beatdown's over."
"Aaaah!! Then that means—!!"
"Yep. Time for a brand-new beatdown."
"Ah…?"
WHACK!
CRACK!
Thwack, thwack, WHACK!!
And so, an hour and a half later.
"Eugene!! That's enough, you lunatic!! He's been unconscious for thirty minutes!!!!"
"What!!! Let go of meeeee!!! Bastards like that can take a beating, okay?!!!"
"G-grab him properly, Mercenary King!!!"
"That bastard didn't even tell us the most important part!!"
"Nngh!! Eu-Eugene!! Please, get ahold of yourself!!"
The abandoned paper factory rang with Eugene's screams. Allegedly.
"Hah. At this point, who's even the villain…"
"That's my student!!! Obviously those bastards are!!!!"
"I know, so calm down already, would you?!!!!"
Meanwhile, on a rooftop with a clear view of the factory.
"Wow. He's actually insane."
A woman in a dark crimson robe covered her mouth and giggled.
"Honestly, Number 2 — then or now, I can never tell what he's thinking."
Well. He had gotten even stranger lately, if she was being honest. Her gaze was fixed on the commotion: Eugene, and the people making a show of trying to stop him. She watched him. She mimed joining in to hold him back. She even flung her arms around empty air a few times, as if she'd run in and thrown herself into a hug.
"Ah, I knew it. I can't wait until the exam."
She stood, as if she had made up her mind.
"I'm going to go see him."
And in the hand of the woman who rose to her feet—
"He'll like it if I give him a present, right?"
—was a Vulcanus family brooch.