Royal Capital Gallia (17)
The party moved toward where the main body might be, following Edelis’s advice. Along the way, they inevitably crossed paths with nobles and members of the royal family. As usual, Leon exchanged words that appeared ordinary on the surface but were bristling with hidden barbs beneath. The others possessed terrifyingly keen senses and intuition—unlike the knight they had spoken with earlier—so every single syllable forced him to break into a cold sweat. This was the very definition of meaningless exhaustion. In his heart he wanted to ignore them all and press on, yet doing so would only invite trouble. Their progress slowed as a result.
How far had they advanced through the maze-like palace? At some point, an unnatural silence settled over everything. No presence, no furtive gazes could be felt any longer. It gave rise to the illusion that something had gone terribly wrong—as though every living thing had died from this spot onward.
Leon was not the only one who felt it. The expressions of his companions had also hardened in a strange way.
“We need to hurry,” Edelis said.
She quickened her steps, and soon a closed door appeared before them. Beyond it lay an antique corridor. It was the place where Edelis and the real Leon had often clashed after the doppelganger Leon came into being. Though “clashed” was perhaps too strong a word; their confrontations had been little more than verbal disputes.
Would His Highness truly be here?
Objectively, it was a location steeped in unpleasant memories. Yet why had Edelis concluded he would be in this exact place? It was a mystery. A woman’s intuition, perhaps?
Edelis pushed against the tightly shut door. With a long, grating creak, the heavy panel swung open, revealing the corridor exactly as expected. Though it was night, torches hung along the walls, keeping the space from being overly dark. Flames swayed in the breeze, casting bright light across the surroundings.
Before the rest of the party could fully take in the scene, a fierce wind howled past. A thick, metallic stench of blood rode the gust and slammed into them. Everyone’s nerves sharpened at once. The smell of blood inside the royal palace? It was an unmistakable sign that something was wrong.
Ahead, human bodies lay collapsed like so many weeds. Following the trail of carnage to the far end of the corridor, they found two figures.
One was a nun with purple hair whose shadow branched out in multiple directions like the tentacles of a cephalopod. The other was a blond man sprawled on the floor, bleeding profusely.
The man was the very “Leon” they had been searching for so desperately. He had lost consciousness—apparently the victim of an ambush.
“Your Highness!”
The sight seemed to fracture Edelis’s reason. She took one step forward. Had the doppelganger Leon not raised a hand to restrain her, the violent trembling that ran through her suggested she might have charged straight ahead and cut the girl down on the spot.
“Hmm?”
The small-statured nun—Jina—tilted her head. She had worked quite diligently. There had been many obstacles to clear away, after all. The affair had been noisy, but without witnesses, it could hardly be called an assassination. She had thought it was finally over.
…She had thought. Yet more obstacles remained. Were there still small fry left? That Daipol fellow must have issued a rather demanding order.
As those thoughts crossed her mind, Jina spotted Ashtain and Aria.
“Well, well. Look who it is.”
Why are you people here?
A spark ignited on the wick inside her heart. It blazed fiercely. They said enemies were fated to meet on a narrow bridge, and this was exactly that, wasn’t it? Perfect. Why not exchange a few greetings?
Jina’s lips curved into a coarse smile. Ripples spread through the air. The atmosphere itself trembled. The shadow at Jina’s side raced forward through space.
Clang!
Ashtain, who had stepped in front, struck down three shadows at once. Even a rotten fish is still a fish, they said; the Hero could accurately perceive shadows even in this darkness.
Meanwhile, Aria’s body shook the moment she confirmed it was Jina.
“…Jina?”
“While I was gone, you went and did something rather underhanded, didn’t you?”
Underhanded, of course, referred to what they had done to Bishop Ronin. Leon and Edelis charged forward, but Jina retreated skillfully. Seeing this, Azazel snapped his fingers.
“A crazy bitch in a nun’s habit trying to assassinate a prince—I’ve never seen that before.”
Several stone hands burst from the ground, reaching for Jina. It was Azazel’s magic. Jina transformed the shadow at her feet into blades and sliced the stone hands apart.
At some point Ashtain had already closed a great distance. Watching the Hero rush toward her at high speed, Jina laughed coldly.
“Not bad, you beast.”
Boom!
A shockwave erupted. A heavy impact rattled Ashtain’s insides. He had blocked it with the Holy Sword. It was a thrust from a spear Jina had created out of shadow. The power was hard to believe coming from such a small frame.
Creeeeak. The bold stab scraped across the Holy Sword’s surface. Yet its superior durability could not be overcome. Jina pursed her lips and grumbled.
“Same as ever—an annoyingly sturdy sword.”
The spear slid like a snake and struck the flat of the blade. Thud! It looked like a light blow, but the force behind it was considerable. Before the Holy Sword could be driven into the floor, Ashtain poured strength into his arms and barely kept it from dropping. He had no way, however, to block Jina’s follow-up.
The spear bent flexibly like a whip. Kaang!
Judging the situation dangerous, Azazel made the ground surge upward to form a wall, slowing the spear’s advance even slightly. Ashtain used that opening to dodge. At the same time, Edelis and Leon took up positions on both of Jina’s flanks. Their swords followed in rapid succession. She did not even deem their attacks worth blocking directly and simply used her shadows to deflect them with ease. It was practically automatic defense.
Watching this, Aria invoked a Holy Spell. A strengthening blessing? Or perhaps a recovery spell? Jina observed the Saintess for a brief moment and realized the truth. The Holy Spell was not directed at the frontline. Its target was the fallen “Leon.”
Whoosh!
The prince, who had been slipping away, was healed at astonishing speed. Color returned to his face. Jina clicked her tongue. A Saintess capable of fully restoring even someone on the brink of death was no small obstacle for an assassin. She had been so close.
She deflected Edelis’s sword sweeping in from the right with a shadow, then did the same to the ice spear Azazel sent next. From the mana ripple rising from the ground, it was clear the ice spear was a feint meant to disrupt her footing by upheaving the earth. Knowing that, she simply stepped back.
Waiting behind her, exactly as anticipated, was Ashtain. The Holy Sword came swinging. No matter how immortal a high-ranking demon Jina might be, the Holy Sword was its natural counter. Moreover, having given most of her power to Ronin, taking a direct hit would be considerably damaging.
Still, I won’t fall to a fledgling Hero.
Jina spun her body. Using the centrifugal force, she swung her spear and smashed the incoming sword aside.
Kwaaaaaang!
A deafening roar—far too loud to have come from mere sword and spear—shook the corridor. At this point, any pretense of stealth had been completely abandoned.
She detonated her shadows, launching random attacks in every direction. Individually they lacked power, but the sheer volume was enough to rattle her opponents. Sure enough, they began accumulating small cuts. It was a meaningful strike. If she could continue draining their stamina this way, the advantage would swing to her.
“Do you really think I’ll allow that?”
Having finished treating Leon, Aria once again used Holy Spells to heal the minor wounds on her comrades. Irritation surged through Jina. It was always like this. It had always been like this. The most infuriating thing in a Hero’s party wasn’t the idiotically sturdy warrior who drew aggro, nor the archer who pecked from afar, nor the mage who stalled for time before unleashing insane firepower. It was the one who kept them all standing, the one who connected them. The cleric. This cleric annoyed her most of all.
Even so, Jina could not immediately rush Aria. The defensive wall protecting her was unexpectedly solid.
Three on the frontline.
They were not opponents she could dismiss. Jina wielded her spear with masterful skill, responding to every attack. Though outnumbered and forced onto the defensive, her opponents could not easily break through. Her defense was firm, unyielding. The experience and martial prowess she had accumulated over long years could not be underestimated.
Tap. Jina created some distance to steady her breathing. The faint moonlight from the crescent moon illuminated her like a spotlight.
Ashtain spat through gritted teeth, “So it’s that nun from before.”
“Good memory, Hero.”
“Were you hiding your strength?”
“I never hid it. You simply failed to notice.”
Their standoff did not last long. The doppelganger Leon directed a question at Jina.
“Are you also Jina?”
Also? Curiosity stirred in Jina. Interesting words coming from an existence that looked exactly like the man she had been about to kill. How could she possibly let that pass?
“What do you mean?”
“The demon I met before also introduced herself as Jina.”
Jina’s lips curved upward as if she had guessed something. “You met that little one, did you?”
“Are you a demon as well?”
At Leon’s question, Jina snorted. A demon? Herself?
“I gave up on that a long time ago.”
“Gave up?”
Jina shook her head at Leon’s follow-up. There was no point telling them any more.
“You’ll regret not killing the prince right here.”
At those words, Edelis burst out as though having a seizure. “Nonsense from a twisted wretch!”
Jina covered her ears and frowned. “Well, we’ll see about that.”
She turned her gaze toward Ashtain. His sharp eyes were searching for an opening. Like mother, like son—even a tiger cub was still a tiger.
“Too many against too few. What should I even tell him?”
Daipol had insisted the second prince must die. Otherwise a great calamity would befall the royal capital Gallia. But look at them. They clearly had no intention of handing over the prince’s neck. They were digging their own graves.
With light steps, Jina moved farther into the corridor. Her eyes met Aria’s. Aria stared back at her.
“He’ll be back soon.”
Aria’s pupils dilated. Back? Who?
“You can look forward to it.”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Aria felt something coiling around her throat—an unpleasant, suffocating sensation. Like shackles. Like chains. Breathing became difficult. Tears threatened to spill.
“What are you talking about?”
“It means your master is coming.”
At Jina’s next words, Aria began to tremble violently. Overwhelming fear tightened around her. That couldn’t be. He was dead. Ashtain had killed him.
“It’s nonsense.”
“Hmm. Believe whatever makes you feel better.”
Aria denied it again. “It’s a lie.”
Ashtain’s sword erupted with wild light, unleashing a fierce torrent of radiance. Jina barely dodged and left one final remark as she withdrew.
“It’s an undeniable fact.”