Cleric Besia (4)

"Should I bury them alive, or…"

I muttered it under my breath, looking at the black mages blocking my path. Among them were faces I knew all too well — the elders of the Black Magic Tower. How could I not recognize them? I had carved their hearts out with my own hands, one by one.

Killing every last elder the same way this time around would be difficult. I hadn't come here to bring the Black Magic Tower down so much as to get out of it. If they were determined to run, chasing them would be more trouble than it was worth. So I would keep things simple.

Besia seemed to agree. She leaned in and murmured beside me.

"Bury the whole damn lot. Burning them works too."

"Someone listening might think I can actually use hellfire magic."

"I bet you could, though? Like, the flames of the demon realm or something?"

Technically speaking, I could. But that was only in the most technical sense. Calling forth the flames of the demon realm was something only a Transcendent-class ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠black mage could do. In the entire history of the continent, maybe one or two people had ever pulled it off. She was a cleric who hunted black mages for a living, and yet she had some kind of fantasy about them?

I let the nonsense slide and gathered magi for the plan I had first proposed — burying them alive.

While I worked, the eldest-looking of the elders spoke up.

"To which unique school do you belong, sir? You carry no magi in your body whatsoever, which would suggest you are no black mage — and yet your skill rivals that of our Tower Lord."

He approached with a measure of respect. Hierarchy among black mages was an iron law. Even if the other party was a stranger — even if they were an enemy — if their realm appeared higher than one's own, they were shown respect. Especially if it was a Transcendent-class black mage, of which there had only been two in the continent's history. They would immediately serve such a person as their sovereign. Not that you could ever expect loyalty from a breed like black mages.

"Is that what you think?"

"Nothing else comes to mind, you see. Perhaps we might settle things here, if that is agreeable? We shall let you go quietly — the girl behind you as well."

I let out a short laugh. On the surface, it was a sweet compromise. Besia even looked tempted. But did they think I didn't know this breed?

Behind Ambrosia stood the Executioners. And the Executioners were the kingdom's most powerful military force. The Chief Executioner, first among the department, was a quasi-Transcendent, and even the high-ranking Executioners beneath him could be considered stronger than a Tower Lord. If even a few high-ranking Executioners showed up at Ambrosia's request, the situation would turn very ugly indeed. I could die dozens of times and still beat a high-ranking Executioner — but Besia would die for certain.

Still, just in case, I tested them once. If what they said was actually true, we could walk out of the Black Magic Tower without any trouble.

"So you'll let us go right now?"

"We have no idea what you might do once you reach the upper floors, so please consider our position as well. We would prefer you wait until the Tower Lord arrives."

"And then the Tower Lord joins in for a combined assault?"

"I swear that no such thing shall occur."

Black mages, much like regular mages, could make oaths. Break one, and the magi in your body would tear you apart from the inside. Being black mages, they had all sorts of ways to weasel around or twist an oath — but when they spoke with that kind of certainty, it was generally genuine. But was I going to fall for this?

"And you guarantee the Executioners won't come?"

The moment I touched their reverse scale — the Executioners — the atmosphere shifted in an instant. Apparently not everyone was in on this secret. Aside from the elders and a few high-ranking black ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mages, the rest looked bewildered.

"The Executioners? Why would they come up here?"

"What does the kingdom's military have to do with us…?"

The oldest elder raised a finger so withered the bone showed through the skin and roared.

"Kill him at once! Whatever the cost, do not let that man leave this tower!"

The collusion between the kingdom and the black mages. A truth that could never, under any circumstances, be exposed. A single sentence was more than enough to send the elders into a frenzy.

They might have been startled by the sudden shift, but every last one of them was a seasoned black mage. Vast amounts of magi poured from their fingertips, and powerful combat spells — the kind commonly used in war — began chanting all at once.

"I figured as much."

But I was faster. The elders and the other black mages had been in a ceasefire mood, even going so far as to swear oaths. How quick could they possibly be? I had already gathered and condensed the magi. All I had to do was detonate it.

I turned and pulled Besia into my arms. She seemed thoroughly flustered. Her cheeks were turning red.

"Hey, are you out of your—!"

"It's going off."

An explosion more than enough to bring the Black Magic Tower down. Besia, looking half out of her mind, seemed to be shouting something, but my eardrums were ringing so hard that all I could hear was a high-pitched whine. I had deliberately set the blast off below us, and the recoil launched our bodies upward.

I had wrapped us in as much of a barrier as I could, so we weathered the explosion without serious injury — but aside from a few elders, the black mages hadn't even left corpses behind. The moment we reached the tower's top floor, the lower levels were already half-destroyed by the blast. My goal of bringing this place halfway down had been more or less achieved.

I caught my breath on the upper floor. I could tell we were only a few steps from the surface. As I stood there looking up at the sky—

"You…"

Besia caught her breath, then spoke with a face stripped of her usual playful air — deadly serious.

"You're okay, right?"

"About what?"

"Your breathing. Your heartbeat. They're getting weaker."

As if I didn't know that myself. The border of death — a line I knew all too well. I was drawing closer to it, bit by bit. The lifespan I had traded to Kerseia's Altar Dagger was nearly spent. I had stabbed myself properly twice. Of course it was.

I was an Immortal, so once I died, I would come back. But I couldn't exactly tell her I was an Immortal, so I gave her a vague answer.

"I know."

"You… you…"

Besia wore an expression I couldn't begin to describe. I was far too numb to read those tangled emotions. I let it be, took her hand, and led her upward.

We reached the surface. With the floors below already in chaos, no black mage tried to bar our path. Black mages had all the solidarity of wet paper. If they were going to run, they'd run. Why would they sacrifice themselves?

There was, however, one person standing in our way.

Beneath sunlight so fierce it burned, a presence was waiting for us in midair.

Despair, standing between us and freedom. The black robe was the mark of a black mage. The gold embroidery on that robe spoke of high rank. And if there was one symbol reserved for the strongest and wisest of the tower — it was the tower crest engraved upon the chest.

Tiagris, Lord of the Black Magic Tower. She had arrived.

"While I was away."

She smiled — a smile that reeked of something foul. The kind of smile that filled anyone who saw it with despair.

"You've been a very naughty boy."

A brief silence settled. I tried to stab my own hand with the dagger, but in that instant both my hands were bound tight by black magic.

"Oh my. You'll die if you stab yourself anyway, so why not just lie down and croak quietly?"

Crunch—

The physical force binding my hands was enough to pulverize bone. Damn. Had I let my guard down?

The moment my hands were bound, another black magic spell activated. The Tower Lord wasn't giving me any room to breathe. She intended to kill me. A black spear of magi was about to pierce my heart when—

Thud!

"…What a pain."

A massive shield of holy power blocked my front. A cleric of considerable caliber. The traditional nemesis of black mages.

I seized the brief opening to try stabbing my hand again.

"Stop!"

"…"

Besia stopped me. I turned my head and saw the girl, her teeth clenched hard.

"Why? Why the hell are you trying to save me even if it means dying? If you were going to live and get out of here with me, I'd understand — but this…"

"If I don't die, you will."

"Do you seriously think that kind of logic makes any goddamn sense?!"

I wouldn't die anyway. And without sacrificing my life, there was no way to beat the Tower Lord. Even if we used up all of Besia's holy power to turn the situation around, she was already weakened. She'd die. I couldn't spit out this entire rational chain of thought, which was frustrating. But what else could I do? I had to try to persuade her, at least.

If you were going to weigh lives on a scale — wasn't that enough on its own? The value of the life I would put on that scale had worn thin a long, long time ago.

"I've already used up as much of my lifespan as I was going to."

"…Ah."

"I'm going to die soon anyway. Isn't it better than dying for nothing? You've still got a lot of living left ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to do."

"…No. No…"

I told her nothing but the calm, unvarnished truth, and her eyes filled with tears. Were women just the type to cry a lot? Well, it probably varied from person to person.

Thuck—

The mood had taken on the air of a final farewell, but I stabbed my hand with the dagger anyway. The dagger scraped the last dregs of my remaining lifespan, devouring them greedily, then began pouring out a vast tide of magi.

The Tower Lord watched this, her face twisting.

"How foolish."

The instant the magi ran wild, a massive sphere of darkness crashed down on us as if she had been waiting for it. Blocking it cost me half the magi I had just gained. And another sphere, equally enormous, took shape behind her.

She was the Lord of the Black Magic Tower, no question. The magi she had accumulated over a lifetime already surpassed any ordinary measure. There were plenty of beings stronger than the Black Tower Lord — but if she fought with her own life on the line, there weren't many opponents she couldn't defeat.

Black mages weren't beings who poured out strength continuously. They were beings who spectacularly demolished everything they had stockpiled, gaining a momentary burst of supreme power. Tiagris was going all-out against the man who had brought down her Black Magic Tower.

Even if I could wield black magic more powerful than hers, the moment she unleashed a lifetime's worth of accumulated magi, I had no chance of winning.

"This is the end."

Boom— Boom! CRACK-CRAAACK!

These attacks weren't as unprepared as the first, so I could block them more efficiently — but I still had no choice but to burn through the remaining half of my magi. All I had left was a mere handful. And yet I smiled.

"…You're smiling?"

It was a shame I couldn't kill her here and now, but it couldn't be helped. I had no intention of settling things here. If there was one thing I felt, it was that I was putting this first life to very good use. I had offered up every last bit of my lifespan to the dagger. And I intended to squeeze one more use out of a life that was as good as over.

Whoosh— swirl—

With the remaining magi, I wrote a contract. There was a demon who loved this sort of thing. A demon who would snap up a well-prepared meal but had no interest in actually doing the work. I invoked his name.

"You've lost your mind."

Tiagris was rattled. This ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠kind of bluff-and-threat was probably a first for her too.

A demonic form rose in the empty air. Not Great Demon-class, but powerful enough.

A demon astride a black horse appeared, gripping a massive trident.

"Eligos. In exchange for taking my life, I propose a conditional contract."

"Protect Besia from Tiagris. The term is two days."

An atrocious set of terms. It was a protection contract, yet it only required guarding against a single person. And the duration was a mere two days. Even offering a life in exchange for protection from a Tower Lord-class powerhouse, the conditions were terrible. Of course, that was also because my life had become essentially worthless.

It was only because this was Eligos that he would accept a contract like this. If he took the deal and the Tower Lord decided to risk it and attack Besia anyway, Eligos would take a loss too. The reason the demon accepted anyway was because he already knew that wouldn't happen. A demon who could see the future — would he refuse a free life?

The demon chuckled and spoke.

The instant the demon vanished, I felt as though a lock had clamped shut around my heart — a crushing, suffocating sensation. The atmosphere plunged, as if the ground itself had been driven into the earth. Tiagris's face was now something close to horror.

"You lunatic. What is that woman to you, that you'd scrape the last dregs of your life and throw them away for her?"

Well. I was leaving the Black Magic Tower anyway, so I figured I might as well leave a debt behind while I was at it. An Immortal's life was worthless. That was why I could do this. I supposed I could give her this much of an answer.

When the Hero sacrificed everything to save someone — when people asked, Did you really need to go that far? — the one line she always said.

I didn't agree with it in the slightest. But the Hero always said it, and everyone else always nodded along. Which made it a convenient excuse to trot out.

With those words as my last — my body collapsed to the ground.