Albion Shall Fall (2)
The forcefield of reflection and defense generated by the power of Spiegel was not something that could be easily breached, even by the telekinesis of a high-level mage. Regardless of magic, the barrier of Spiegel expanded as if to literally tear everything apart. By this point, Benjamin Ashford had more than noticed the anomaly. Instead of recklessly unleashing his telekinesis in a futile struggle of strength, he made the perfectly logical decision to shift direction, move into my blind spot, and compose himself to seize an opportunity for a counterattack. And since it was logical, it meant I could easily read his next move.
Hoping to keep my strategy hidden, I swung Paramita toward the direction the Vice-Minister of Magic had retreated, making the movement look as natural as possible. The wound wasn't deep—just a minor scratch on Benjamin Ashford's flank and arm. The blood splattered by inertia was too trivial to hope for shock from blood loss. But what mattered wasn't the depth of the wound, but the mere fact that he had been cut. The moment Paramita tasted his blood, a remarkable change occurred in the mage's eyes.
A crack... in his soul...
Up to this point, the mechanism was identical to when I had swung it without knowing Paramita's true name. The owner of the blood on the blade was instantly designated as my enemy, and Benjamin Ashford's soul was linked to Paramita by an invisible thread.
"You bitch... what did you just do?!"
The anomaly, which I hadn't expected much from until now, occurred right here. As the wounds where the blade had sliced began to close, a visible aberration began to unfold before my very eyes.
Over-regeneration...?
The wounds were healing far beyond the size of his original flesh. The biological tissue expanded rapidly, threatening to tear through his clothes. Pushing myself forward with a burst of telekinetic force, I closed the distance that had opened up between us once more.
Cough! A bit of blood mixed with my cough—perhaps a broken or cracked rib had punctured my lung.
Now is not the time to worry about that!
Ignoring the pain, I swung Paramita once more.
"Hyaaaah!"
Another arc was drawn through the tumorous mass of flesh that was expanding as if to drain all his nutrients. From the first swing to this moment, only three seconds had passed. Amidst this miracle that clearly transcended human limits, it did not take long for Benjamin Ashford to make a decision. Gritting his teeth as if making a painful choice, he brought his hand down like a blade upon the area where the dagger had penetrated—the flesh that was now visibly swelling in volume.
Imbued with telekinetic force, his hand sliced like a sword, cleanly severing a ten-centimeter chunk of flesh, which tumbled onto the floor.
"...You wield a highly troublesome weapon, Yerina Bronska."
"You still have room to talk after going through all that shit?"
Before I swung Paramita, the physical advantage had undoubtedly belonged to him. No matter what I did, overcoming the biological difference in physical strength was a distant hope. I didn't deny that. However, now that I had swung Paramita twice, I could proudly say that we were back on equal footing physically.
Benjamin Ashford panted, displaying his analytical mind.
"Distorting the structure of the soul to induce over-regeneration? Clever..."
"Oh, that's not all. The more we repeat this, the less of your body will remain intact."
Landing another clean hit with Paramita would be difficult. Now that he knew I possessed a lethal dagger, he would adopt a far more defensive stance. If the battle dragged on and reinforcements, including Lord Dunhaven, arrived, the fight would become a war of attrition, and the victory I had barely grasped would slip away.
But all I had to do was prevent that from happening! Suppressing the sharp pain throbbing in my chest, I continued our perilous dance. Held in a reverse grip, the blade caught the moonlight, shimmering with an iridescent glow.
"I refuse... to die in a place like this to some Commie bitch...!"
"...Bullshit!"
Do you have any idea how much I despise those materialist bastards? To lump me in with them... Not all villains are created equal.
After a dozen more clashes, I activated the recharged Spiegel. The forcefield that rejected all things shimmered under the moonlight, swallowing Benjamin Ashford's telekinesis whole.
"You've armed yourself with nothing but the most obnoxious relics! Fine! I'll take them all after I sever your head!"
"Haah... wouldn't it be stupider to have them and not use them?"
During that flurry of clashes, I had landed three more effective strikes with Paramita. Each time, Benjamin Ashford chopped off the over-regenerating flesh with his hand, scattering the mutated meat across the floor. Since he wasn't stopping the over-regeneration itself but merely slicing away the parasitic tumors that drained his soul, nutrients, and calories, his stamina was visibly depleting.
Of course, I wasn't unscathed either. I had nearly been crushed to death after slamming into a wall of solidified air created by his telekinesis. My split lips and crooked, fractured nose were testament to that. Having my face ruined was truly tragic, but it wasn't something to worry about as long as I made it out alive today.
Because I can just make that regeneration ability mine once this is over...!
Regenerating a missing eyeball at the mere cost of slightly degraded vision—it was an absurdly broken innate magic.
"Yes, there's no point in holding back anymore!"
The next moment, taking advantage of the distance that had widened between us again, Benjamin Ashford began to do something utterly insane. Using his telekinesis, he gathered his severed chunks of flesh from the floor, compressing them into a single mass—
"Ha..."
—and shoved it into his mouth, chewing it down with sickening crunches.
Is he actually insane...?
"Do you have any idea how I modified my body to master this innate magic?"
Logically, it made sense. If the over-regenerated flesh had drained his nutrients and calories, he could simply consume it to replenish what he had lost.
"I take it you've enabled rapid energy absorption?"
But logical comprehension and instinctive acceptance were two entirely different things. Despite being in the middle of a fierce battle, I couldn't help but stare in sheer disgust at the grotesque spectacle.
And through my disgust, I saw it. The structure of Benjamin Ashford's soul, which had been shredded by Paramita, was gradually repairing itself. The warp and weft of his spirit and flesh rewove themselves, binding tightly once more. The human-flesh meatball sliding down his esophagus into his stomach was clearly being processed with extreme efficiency. The dry texture of the tumorous meat was likely kept moist by the blood from the capillaries mixed within it.
At this rate, he won't tire out as quickly as I planned...!
I didn't need this kind of variable at the climax of the battle. If only he would just die quietly.
Just then, a voice crackled through my earpiece.
"...rene, *static*, Lady Yerina!"
"...Delis?"
It was Delis's voice. I replied in a whisper, keeping my voice low enough so the Vice-Minister wouldn't hear.
"You must end this soon! The Marquis will arrive in about forty seconds, and the helicopter with the Equinox operatives in sixty!"
When locked in a relentless exchange of blows, it was easy to lose all track of time without external updates. But forty seconds...
That means I have to finish this within that time...!
Time slipped away ruthlessly even as I agonized. I ground my teeth. Spitting a mouthful of bloody saliva onto the floor, I muttered.
"Understood. I'll end it before then."
My words carried far more confidence than I actually felt. If I couldn't finish him, things would only get infinitely more difficult. As if reading my anxiety, Delis spoke through the comms.
"I will finish it."
"...What do you mean?"
"I know why you kept me on the battlefield, Lady Yerina. You wanted me to catch him off guard, just like before."
It was true. There was no psychological blow more devastating than realizing the person you trusted implicitly had never been on your side to begin with.
"Wait, Delis."
"Pavel told me once. He said living things can enter your shadow, Lady Yerina."
That was also true. While time didn't stop inside, it was technically possible. There was no oxygen in there, so she wouldn't be able to hold her breath for long, though.
"...I permit it."
Sensing Delis's resolve, I cut my brief hesitation short and nodded. One way or another, with less than a minute remaining, this was our best shot.
A moment later, Delis stepped out in front of Benjamin Ashford.
"Vice-Minister! The Minister will be here soon! Just hold on a little longer!"
"Delis?! You made it back!"
To the young head of the Ashford family, who was entirely ignorant of the secret arrangement between Delis and me, it looked as though she had successfully secured reinforcements. When one desperately wants to believe a lifeline has arrived to turn the tide of a losing battle, their mind naturally leaps to that conclusion.
The moment Delis, clad in her evening gown, drew close to the Vice-Minister, I unleashed my shadow beast, Schattenmaiden, toward her.
"...!"
Cut short mid-stride, Delis was hoisted into the air, her body seemingly impaled by the shadow. A spike of darkness erupted from her chest, creating a scene that would convince anyone that a gaping hole had been torn through her torso.
"Delis!"
To him, it must have looked like his fiancée—a term that made me want to laugh—had been tragically ambushed just as victory was within reach. His eyes widening in horror, Benjamin Ashford whipped his gaze back to me.
That single moment of distraction was his undoing. The mouth at the tip of the shadow beast gaped open, and Paramita, which had been traveling through the darkness, shot out.
"Hyaaaah!"
Snatching the hilt without a shred of hesitation, Delis plunged the blade—steeped in the heavy karma of colonial-era Britain—straight into Benjamin Ashford's left eye.
Looking even more dumbfounded than when he had witnessed her being impaled by shadows, he slowly, stupidly turned his gaze back to Delis. A choked, blood-gurgling cry echoed hollowly, failing to form coherent words.
"Delis... why...?"
Delis delivered her verdict with a look of profound relief.
"...It's over, Benjamin Ashford."
Without a moment's delay, I manifested a mouth on Schattenmaiden large enough to swallow a person whole and pulled Delis inside before the Vice-Minister could try any desperate counterattacks.
The mage, with a dagger protruding from his eye socket, collapsed heavily onto the floor. The blade, having severed the connection between his soul and body, triggered a violent over-regeneration. A grotesque, stomach-churning spectacle unfolded across his writhing body. Perhaps in a frantic attempt to restore his lost eye, eyeballs began to sprout... not just from his empty socket, but from all over his body.
"..."
Because the target area for regeneration hadn't been properly designated, eyeballs erupted like malignant lesions in the most random places. Those sprouting beneath his clothes were crushed against the fabric and burst, while those on his hands, neck, and face multiplied uncontrollably, horribly distorting Benjamin Ashford's physical form.
It's like a scene straight out of a horror movie...
The sight was reminiscent of the unchecked division of stem cells. I dismissed Schattenmaiden, spitting Delis back out. She tumbled onto the floor beside me, gasping greedily for air.
A moment later, Lord Dunhaven made his fashionably late entrance, his snowy white beard fluttering behind him. Flying in through the shattered dome of the ballroom ceiling, the elder mage was greeted by the sight of his grandson, who had mutated into a writhing mass of sprouting eyeballs.
"Did... you do this, girl?"
Well, technically, it was done by his favorite grandson's favorite Ministry employee, not me. But it was probably easier to just take the credit.
Right after the Marquis made his entrance, the Equinox operatives arrived in the skies above the ballroom. After running a quick simulation in my head, I declined their request to assault and asked for fire support instead.
"You see the wizard through the hole in the dome? Blast him."
Along with my order, I fired a Magic Bullet at the Marquis—a projectile imbued with magic designed to exploit the security vulnerabilities of this era's standard defensive spells, a secret known only to a mage from the future. At the exact same moment, an anti-tank missile fired from the British-made Lynx slammed into the wizard.