Airi's Reckoning
"That mage has caused quite the nuisance."
It was the first time. Just what was that monster? I had fought resurrected dragons and the kings of demons before. Those were formidable monsters in their own right, yet the elf standing before me was on an entirely different level.
I knew elves lived long lives and thus accumulated vast experience in both swordsmanship and magic. But this was beyond mere experience. It was not a strength that could be explained away by saying "because he is an elf" or "because he is a genius." Even my former self might have stood a chance, but the current me could not fight a Spirit King without magic and hope to win.
"...Yet he still posts such immature guards. How foolish. One shows a glimpse of talent, while the other... appears unused to her current strength, as though she has lost her former power."
Glacia spoke, blood filling her mouth.
"Just who are you? Why would someone of your caliber stand with the Black Round Table?"
The black-haired elf answered.
"I am the one who took Lancelot's seat at the Black Round Table. Our interests aligned, nothing more. I have never shared their ideology."
The elf who called himself Lancelot had been overwhelming us with nothing but his sheath the entire time. Whenever I seized an opening and unleashed high-powered magic through a superior spirit, he countered with magic of his own that perfectly nullified it. Both his swordsmanship and magic were of the highest order.
"You never shared their ideology? Don't give me that bullshit, you reeking elf bastard."
I hated people like him.
"So what if that was never your intention? We've heard plenty about what you've done. People died because of you... If your precious ideology doesn't match theirs, does that make everything fine, you insane bastard?"
Looking at him felt like staring at my past self, and the feeling was foul. I was just like the girl who had lost her master and spent every day in denial, sobbing that it had not been her intention, that she had never truly wished for her master's death, that she would have listened if she had known it would come to this. But reality did not change just because one denied it. I had been fooled by the bitch I once called a friend and led my master to her death. I had even joked that I wished she would die. Every single day I had only caused her trouble and stress. That was the damned truth. That was why the sight of these bastards claiming their ideology was different, that they were different, filled me with unbearable disgust. It was a loathing so intense it felt like vomiting while looking in a mirror.
"It is true that my actions must have cost many lives. However... does that change anything?"
"What?"
"The people who died because of me... soldiers, mercenaries, children from the slums, and at most the parents who took their own lives after losing their children? Soldiers and mercenaries stake their lives for money. It is strange for them to complain when they lose those lives."
"Don't spout nonsense... Then what about the children who died because of you, and the parents who killed themselves after losing them!"
"Do you truly believe we killed those children? What of the nobles who hand over such facilities for a few coins? What of those who remain silent even as they hear the screams of kidnapped children? And what of the parents who willingly sell their own children? The world is rotten, and I merely made use of it."
"Shut your mouth, you bastard. You're the most rotten of them all."
Heat surged through me at the voice that claimed the world was at fault and he had done nothing wrong. It reminded me so much of the bitch who had killed my master that I felt like retching.
"...Hmph. A sound argument. It seems you were taught by a good master. In that case, I suppose I must face you seriously as well."
Lancelot drew his sword from its sheath. He had already been overwhelming us with the sheath alone. If he was now serious, the outcome was obvious.
"Glacia... I really hate saying this, but it looks like we'll have to fight together this time. Using that damned thing called 'cooperation.'"
"I agree. If we are to destroy a greater evil, we must be willing to overlook a lesser one."
Did that bitch just call me evil? She was the one who looked like a walking mass of malice.
"Fangs of the Fire Dragon━━━"
I prepared the most powerful magic I could currently use.
"Demonic Sword, I offer you this sacrifice."
Glacia gripped the blade of the Demonic Sword passed down in her family with her bare hand, feeding it her blood. The sword that grew stronger by drinking the blood of enemies or its master's blood was always fed her own blood in times of crisis. It meant she was fighting with everything she had, in her own way.
"Pierce and burn the wicked to death."
The azure flame lances I created and the crimson slash Glacia unleashed flew toward Lancelot. Dodging was impossible. If he blocked the flame lances, the slash made from a vampire's blood would melt his body. If he blocked the slash instead, my azure flame lances would reduce him to ash. We had poured everything we had into these attacks. Taking the life of that elf bastard would be well worth the cost.
"...My apologies, but I cannot die yet."
With those words came the ominous sound of a sword cleaving the wind. Unlike the refreshing sounds of Glacia's or Camellia's blades, this one made my chest tighten and stirred feelings of discomfort and frustration. That unpleasant slash dispersed both of our attacks with a single strike.
"━━━━Until I can ask the being who stands above us what I have always wanted to know."
"Then ask me instead. I can ask for you. And once you get your answer, just die already. Though don't expect a proper response."
The being who stood above us could only mean that brat of a goddess. She was currently perched on a tree branch, watching our fight with an amused expression. To be precise, she was laughing and mocking Lancelot rather than observing evenly. Even if he asked, that foul-tempered brat would never give him a straight answer anyway.
"It seems the strike I just unleashed was the best you could manage. Hmph... I suppose I may withdraw now that I have a general understanding."
"Stop right there! Who said you could leave...!"
Damn it. My mana was nearly depleted. Glacia's ragged breathing suggested she had used quite a bit of blood as well.
"I did not come here to kill you today. Therefore, there is no need to spill unnecessary blood."
It was the voice of someone who could kill us at any moment but simply chose not to. Treating others like livestock at a slaughterhouse... If only I still had my original power, I could have at least fought him evenly. If that damned brat had not sealed my strength, I would never have suffered this humiliation.
"Galahad, let us go."
"Yes, Sir Lancelot."
A woman with long black hair and a mask appeared from the corner and took Lancelot's hand.
"You are..."
I could tell from her presence alone. That disgusting bitch who had approached me pretending to be pitiful, pretending to be a friend. The whore who had collaborated with demons and helped kill my master.
"Kirilla..."
She threw off that repulsive mask. Eyes and hair similar to Camellia's, yet fundamentally different... an appearance that felt obscenely seductive, like a succubus. It was definitely that bitch Kirilla.
"You know my true name... How interesting. Well, I suppose I must still withdraw today."
"Stop right there, you fucking bitch! Are you scared!?"
"Such a foul mouth, haha... It is not that I am afraid of you... It is because some truly terrifying mages are on their way."
Before I could grab her by the hair, she took Lancelot's hand and vanished into the dark space he had carved open with a swing of his sword. Damn it. I had been so determined to crush her with my own hands this time...
At that moment, hurried footsteps approached, followed by a voice that calmed my agitated heart.
"Airi!!!!"
It was my master. Beside her stood Lorcia as well. From their auras, both had formed contracts with Spirit Kings. It was not strange that Armadu, being the straightforward type, would like someone like my master, and Valena had originally protected the Mackellin family, so that outcome was only natural. But the fact that they had formed contracts with Spirit Kings while I had just suffered a crushing defeat only amplified my misery. That damned brat of a goddess.
"Airi, oh my dear disciple, why are you suddenly crying?"
I was simply overwhelmed by how pathetic I felt after losing my contract with the Spirit King. My master supported my injured body and began checking Glacia's wounds as well.
"It seems no one is seriously hurt. That is a relief. May I ask how this happened?"
"Yes, I am sorry for worrying you. We encountered someone calling himself Lancelot who emerged from here and engaged in combat, but... unfortunately, we allowed him to escape."
Escape, my ass. We had not even dealt a single point of damage and had been beaten senseless with a sheath before letting him get away. She must have had enough pride left not to admit that.
"By the way, Airi... did you happen to see a skinny blond man who fled this way? He was using the name Gawain."