His Reason
Camellia discarded the sword she had been using and leveled a blade with a blood-red edge at Lancelot. That was definitely the one I gave her...
"That sword... that damned thing is resorting to petty tricks."
"Father, I have something I want to ask you."
Camellia swallowed hard. No matter what, he was still her father, so it seemed a sliver of lingering attachment remained. Even so, I was still going to kill that son of a bitch Lancelot.
"Why are you doing this? You always hated slaughter and war... You were someone who loved peace..."
"A foolish question, my daughter. I still despise evil."
Lancelot wore an utterly calm expression. It was the kind of face one might make while casually discussing how someone's dog had puppies over tea.
"I would appreciate it if that mage over there would listen as well. What are the ten elements that serve as the origin of magic and the very foundation of this world?"
"Suddenly asking something like..."
"Fire, water, ice, wind, earth, steel, light, darkness, wood, lightning. All of them are the roots of magic and the roots of the world. Knowing the origin means knowing everything. So, in what manner do these things exist in our world?"
Lancelot continued in a voice completely different from before—one that was eerie and chilling. It was a grotesque, horrifying tone that inspired nothing but discomfort, like the sound of metal scraping against metal.
The fire that should bring warmth turns into the flames of war, burning homes to ash.
The water that should give life becomes floods and deluges, stealing away lives.
People freeze to death in bitter cold, and the wind becomes typhoons that trample the places where they live.
Steel is forged into sharp spear tips and arrowheads, while wood becomes the shafts of arrows and hafts of spears to kill and wound men.
Only darkness fills the homes of the poor, while light shines even on the dwellings of the wealthy trash.
The earth remains silent, bringing poor harvests yet swallowing countless corpses, and thunder roars but never falls upon the heads of the guilty.
His words flowed without pause, smooth and flexible like a poem, yet what they brought was not inspiration but only terror and revulsion. It was the kind of voice that took the disgusting images of hateful old hags you see on internet sites and hammered them straight into your ears as sound.
"What the hell is this sudden poetry recital? Is this your last will or something?"
"The roots of the world are like this, yet our goddess remains silent. She tolerates war, tolerates massacre, tolerates disaster, tolerates tyranny, tolerates evil itself."
"The evil ones are you bastards, you fucking piece of shit. The guy who murdered Count Holstead's family, massacred people, and used children as lab rats shouldn't be spouting this dogshit philosophy."
"Yes, I am evil. But what of our goddess?"
He pointed his sword toward the sky. Well, since there was a ceiling, he couldn't exactly point at the sky itself, but the intent was clear.
"She even tolerates someone like me. No matter what evil I commit, our goddess does not punish me. In other words, our goddess accepts and affirms evil. I simply cannot tolerate such a goddess or this lax world."
"If the world is that shitty, then just eat some poisonous mushrooms and kill yourself. What the hell is all this nonsense?"
"I will change the world. That is the mission I was born with—to kill the goddess and usurp her place."
So that was the reason... He killed the Heavenly Demon, made Count Holstead's family suffer, and dragged Olrag—who could have been my friend—into this kind of evil? All for such a pathetic, idiotic reason?
I pulled out Enoch.
"Open page 221, the Seal Section, Enoch."
"Werner! That's...!"
"Sorry, sister. You'll have to die with me."
Enoch was not only a holy relic that could stockpile magic in advance, but also one capable of sealing away dangerous entities.
"Awaken from your slumber, O Wraith of Pestilence."
The ghostly illustration engraved on the page vanished, and black mist began to rise. Sealed within this page was a collective of vengeful spirits from a village wiped out by plague. This wraith, taking the form of black fog, was so powerful it could not be killed and had ultimately been sealed inside Enoch.
Merely touching this black mist would inflict a horrific plague, causing the body to melt and die. The room began to fill thickly with the black fog, but Lancelot showed no sign of panic. Instead, he calmly adjusted his grip on his sword.
This wraith could neither be cut nor exorcised. It was not an enemy that could be dealt with by something as simple as a sword.
"Devour it."
His sword immediately began to suck in the black mist. More precisely, it was devouring that powerful wraith.
"How can that wraith..."
Lancelot pointed to the jewel embedded in his sword. The gem glowed with a vivid purple light.
"This is a fragment of the goddess's heart that I stole when I stabbed our goddess. Surprisingly, even a mere fragment possesses tremendous power."
This motherfucker was mocking me by showing off someone else's mother's heart. One more reason not to forgive that bastard had just been added to the list.
"It seems one of the moves you prepared has been neutralized. What do you plan to summon next? A demonic dragon? A devil? Or perhaps even an apostle of the goddess?"
"No..."
I forced myself to stand. I was still bleeding, but it wasn't life-threatening.
"Sister..."
"Werner, don't speak. Rest. I'll handle that guy."
Camellia charged straight at Lancelot with her sword raised. That stance was undoubtedly the Cherry Blossom Slash technique. It was a mysterious slash that scattered like falling cherry petals, its trajectory impossible to predict, and it carried a guard-breaking effect.
Clang!
But Lancelot easily blocked the attack.
"I wonder who you think taught you that technique. And your shoulders are still far too tense."
With those words, Lancelot swung his sword at Camellia. That was one of his killing techniques—'Camelia Branch Slash.' It was originally a major move that required time to activate, yet Lancelot used it with zero delay.
"Sister!"
Clang!
But Camellia blocked that attack as well.
"Who do you think observed your swordsmanship the closest, Father?"
"...How bold."
"Father, I will ask you one last time. To you... what was Mother...?"
Lancelot swallowed dryly.
"A woman who didn't suit me. She was utterly pathetic, foolish, and idiotic."
"What are you saying...?"
"She didn't even realize she was being used, believed in the goddess like a fool, foolishly believed the war would end, blindly trusted in peace, and whispered love to me until the very end before dying. A truly pathetic woman."
Camellia's sword slipped from her grasp. I knew how much she loved her family, how deeply she had loved her mother and father. The greater the love and trust, the greater the sense of betrayal.
"At least if she'd left behind a useful child before dying, it might have been worthwhile... but she only gave birth to halfwits who split their talent between swordsmanship and magic. On top of that, her body was too weak to bear any more. She was a woman who was never useful even once."
"...Shut up."
"That's why I killed her. There was no need for a hindrance that only got in the way."
"I said shut up!"
"Even her final moments, crying and whispering that she loved me, were laughably pathetic. You resemble her greatly, so I suppose that's why you're swayed by such trivial emotions even now. She truly... was a woman I should never have kept by my side."
Camellia picked up her sword and tried to stab Lancelot. But it was easily blocked once again.
"You, your mother, the Heavenly Demon, and that mage... all of you are swayed by such meaningless emotions. That's why you die like trash."
Camellia was no longer in any state to fight through her tears. In that case... killing that bastard was entirely my role.
"Hey, Lancelot."
"Hmm..."
His gaze turned toward me.
"You're the worst piece of garbage I know. And my creed is that garbage should be cleaned up by the person who sees it."
"A rather fine creed. But what can you do? You can't use Grand Magic, and the only thing you're capable of is the weakened version recorded in that magic book."
"Haha... you stupid fuck... It's not that I can't use Grand Magic. I just can't handle the aftermath of using it."
"Nonsense. I see no difference."
What had been damaged in Werner's mana circuits wasn't the organ that activated Grand Magic. It was the cooling organ that alleviated the burden on the body immediately after activation. In other words, the activation itself was still possible.
"If I'm willing to let my body get completely wrecked, I can use it once...?"
"Hmm, interesting. So it's a magic that would make me mistakenly believe I could be killed with a single Grand Magic... I would like to see it, if only for the sake of the future."
"Sorry, sister. It looks like you'll get caught up in this and we'll have to die together."
Camellia nodded silently and grabbed Lancelot's arm. It seemed she intended to prevent him from making any useless resistance.
The magic that only Werner could use—resonating the mana of all ten attributes at once.
"Ars Magia."