My Protagonist (1)

To be perfectly honest, the moment Vulkan came face to face with him—

"I'm Eugene."

—the fight drained right out of him.

The reason was simple.

Looks like he'd drop dead if I so much as poked him.

After receiving a partial healing from Ariel, he had been in hiding, following her prophecy to the letter. But now—

If I'd known he was this weak, I wouldn't have wasted years buried in the dark.

And so Vulkan reached for his sword.

If a whelp like that passes for Apostle-class, the rest of them can hardly be worth a damn.

He would make his appearance here, annihilate the cultists, and take up his duties as head of the house once more.

It was a miscalculation.

The boy who had been running his mouth went suddenly silent, his gaze fixed on empty air.

"……"

The playful energy. The sly, unctuous expression. Both vanished in an instant, as if the person who had worn them had never existed at all.

Should I cut him down?

In truth, this was the perfect opening. A member of an organization that had to be wiped from the earth had let his guard down with an enemy standing right in front of him.

And yet.

I shouldn't cut him.

Double agent. Rania's friend. All of that was beside the point. It was simpler than that.

My instincts are screaming it.

He could not understand it. Not at all.

Why are my instincts howling that I must not kill this boy?

Vulkan had spent a lifetime on the battlefield, and it was instinct that had kept him alive. Everyone preached reason. In the end, the only one still standing was the man who had entrusted himself to instinct.

Which is exactly why I understand even less.

Why was it roaring at him not to cut down someone who, by every measure that mattered, needed to be cut down?

He could not accept it. He drew his sword anyway.

There was no other choice.

"An exile with no end in sight?"

"There is no other way. Please wait at least until we have hunted the Six Apostles."

"And if I refuse?"

"…According to the Book of Prophecy, it would mean the certain annihilation of your house."

Those damned creatures had to be slaughtered. Only then would his family be safe.

So this time—

Trust reason. Not instinct.

That is the path that protects my family.

He was about to bring the blade down when—

"…Rania's in danger."

Eugene, who had been waving his hands through empty air, went deathly pale and spun on his heel.

Running?

Vulkan reached out before he knew what he was doing.

A dreadful ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠aura crushed down on him.

I miscalculated.

If every last one of the Six Apostles of the Evil God was a monster of this caliber, the cult could achieve whatever it wanted without breaking a sweat.

I have to kill him.

Only then did Vulkan's instincts finally catch fire.

Crack!

The instant the pressure hit, he snapped the pinky of his left hand, flooding himself with pain, and roared—

"You're not going anywhere!!"

—as he brought the sword down on Eugene with everything he had.

The edge was a breath from Eugene's throat when their eyes met.

Vulkan had never seen him so terrified. But it was not terror of Vulkan.

That look was, without any question—

Genuine, bone-deep fear for Rania.

The next instant.

"Please. Rania's in danger."

Vulkan hesitated before he could stop himself.

Whoosh—!

The blade missed by a hair. Eugene, who had barely slipped aside, threw the words over his shoulder as he moved.

"Protect your family."

"W-wait!!"

"There's no time. Go to the garden."

And that was all.

Eugene vanished as if the path had been laid out for him in light. Vulkan was left standing there alone.

"…What the hell is that boy."

He had stopped without meaning to. It lasted only a heartbeat.

"……The garden."

Then he followed.

Haviel Ramis.

A man of misfortune, born to a branch family and cursed with talent enough to put the main line to shame. That talent made him a target. The main house moved to keep him in check, and the relatives who feared those same people half-abandoned him for it.

And so Haviel had wished for one thing.

I want to live in a world without that empty pomp. Main line, branch family, house and name — none of it.

The man who granted that wish was Vulkan.

Haviel had felt the sincerity in it. Looking at Vulkan then, he had thought—

"It was unfair."

Crunch. Grind.

"Ghk!!"

The sword buried in Rania's thigh twisted where it sat, grinding against bone.

"If I had been of the main line instead of a branch family, I could have had those things too. To look and look and never hold them in my own hands — something in this chest of mine began to boil."

His face did not change as he drew the blade free.

"It was so hot it felt as though living flesh were being seared. Every time I stood before Vulkan and took in what he possessed, the pain was enough to make me want to die. So I tried to. And yet……"

A red light ate its way across Haviel's eyes.

"He stopped me. And He said to me: Child. Why do you kill yourself? If it is so hard that you would rather die — then kill that which makes it hard for you."

He smiled as he finished, and a black miasma of wickedness coiled in the air around him.

Only then did Rania understand.

Something has taken him.

She could not say how much of the man in front of her was still true. What she knew for certain was that something was driving him from behind.

I have to put him down……

Subdue Haviel quickly, then go to the rest of the family. That was the plan. But—

"Hah… hah……"

She had already lost too much blood. She had managed to guard the vital points, somehow, but that last stroke had taken her leg.

The open wound. The tacky welling of blood. Fingertips going cold. Even her mind was starting to haze. In that state, there was only one thing left that Rania Vulcanus could do.

"Haviel!! Please — snap out of it……!!"

Hope that he would wake.

He had no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠intention of doing so.

"Don't trouble yourself. I have never in my life had a mind this clear."

Rania despaired. All the more because the one reaching for her life was Haviel.

Haviel. An honorable knight who had guarded the house at the family head's side since before Rania was born. And—

—Rania's other family.

He had been, from her earliest years, one of the strong people she looked up to with her whole heart.

Family. And a superb teacher.

The man who, in her childhood, had first given her the dream of becoming a hero—

"……It's time you departed."

"Havi…el……"

—was reaching for her life.

Please.

Rania stretched her hand toward her sword. Even now, with Haviel himself turned against her, effort and the blade had never once betrayed her.

No.

"I'm afraid I can't allow that."

They hadn't betrayed her.

CLANG!

A swung edge caught the sword that had been close enough to touch and sent it spinning far across the floor.

Scrape. Scrape. Scrape……

She crawled for it anyway.

SHUNK!

"Ghk—!"

The other leg was run through.

Everything around her was chaos. Inside her head, it had never been clearer.

Why?

Why did every struggle, every desperate push, only drive things further toward the worst instead of making them better?

All she had wanted was to protect her family. To guard her house. To help people.

It was all right if it was hard. It was all right if no one paid her back for it today, or tomorrow, or at all.

If I just kept living like this, I thought that someday—

She had thought that she, too, might get to be happy.

Ah. This is the limit.

Her vision bleached white, spreading from the edges in. Her body went loose and heavy, the way it did after several nights without sleep, in that last moment before you finally drop off.

"…I won't kill you immediately. He said that you, my lady, are the world's……"

She was floating in deep water now. Even Haviel's voice came to her muffled, as if from a long way down.

What a shame.

If she had known she would go out this emptily, she would have lived a little more for herself.

This mother will take responsibility, so Rania — don't you worry. Live comfortably, all right?

When she had collapsed from overtraining, she should have listened to her mother then.

We're family!! Why do you keep doing this alone!? We can carry it together!!

She should have shared the load a little, the way Raphael had told her to.

Unnii…. Don't hurt…. Niel and I have to go to the candy shop together……

She should have played more often with her pretty youngest sister.

And—

While we're at it, let's just be friends.

Friends……?

Yeah. I don't have any friends here yet. If it's all right with you, I'd like you to be my first.

Ah.

Back then, she should have—

"……given him a proper answer."

A small laugh escaped her before she knew it.

If it had not been for Eugene, she could never have gone beyond her limits at the entrance exam. She would never have become Lady Vivian's disciple. She might have lost the house to Haviel and the intruders and been left behind, entirely alone.

…Yeah.

This was better than being left alone.

The thought that came after, though—

……If I die like this, what happens to my family?

Eugene, laid up with his wounds? Father, still recovering?

She put that question into her body and forced her head up. Haviel's mouth came into focus.

"……Not only that. Everyone will die."

Ah.

They're all going to die.

Her blood-soaked hand closed on the edge of Haviel's blade.

Puhk—!

Had he let his guard down, too busy talking? The sword came free more easily than she expected. She wrapped her palm in aura, tore the blade from her own flesh, and took it.

CLANG!

She drove the sword into the floor and used it to haul herself upright.

Her whole body shook, violently, without pause. Blood surged from the deep wounds in a fresh gush. Her molars ground together hard enough to creak.

"…You'll die doing that."

Haviel's voice was cold.

He did not seem to care that his blade had been taken. A sword of ice formed in his hand.

Rania did not look at it.

"……I know."

She thought only of the people she had to protect.

I can fall here. That's fine. But—

"Abso…lutely……"

My people. At the very least—

Rania Vulcanus.

She herself would not have known it. Not a thing.

She was, in every sense of the word, the protagonist.