I Won't Abandon My Friends
Terminus. The endpoint of existence. Or the spell known by the alias of the disposal of existence was a magic that completely overturned the history recorded in the laws of causality. The truly vicious part was that once it succeeded, no one could even grasp what history Terminus had altered.
If someone used Terminus to rewrite things so that "after two came four," every person in the world would instantly remember that the number following two was four, and none of them would feel the slightest sense of wrongness. Of course, a spell this tremendous came with clear limits. The mana required to cast Terminus was proportional to the scale of the history being changed. Altering something as widespread as common sense—changing the number after two to four—was nearly impossible. It would demand tens of thousands of mages who had reached their absolute limit, squeezing out their mana nonstop for an entire year just to feed it to the caster.
But changing a simple fact or two is possible.
Almesia gazed at the magic formula for Terminus and broke into an ecstatic smile. The mage’s thrill of claiming forbidden knowledge had completely taken hold of her. A shiver ran down her spine like electricity. If I squeeze out my own mana to use Terminus, I’ll become a crippled wreck who can never cast magic again. But there’s no need to go that far. After all, I have an entire faction at my command.
The five hundred elf mages under the Isolationist faction. If I borrow their mana, rewriting the culprit who tried to sicken the World Tree from demonkind to human should be more than doable.
The cursed alliance with the human empire had begun because the demon race had been caught trying to stupidly blight the World Tree. Not many people knew the truth of that incident. Therefore, Terminus could rewrite it cleanly.
The narrow-eyed demon woman she had met back then had whispered the temptation exactly like that.
“What happened then is truly regrettable. However, the entire matter was the arbitrary decision of the 4th Successor, Belial.”
She had added that only a fraction of demonkind had been responsible for trying to sicken the World Tree.
“I share this information as an apology for that event. At the same time, it stems from my sincere hope that the Demon World and Elvenheim might build a more constructive relationship.”
Claiming that a grand mage of Almesia’s caliber would surely be able to master Terminus, the narrow-eyed demon had revealed the location where the spell was sealed. At first Almesia had meant to refuse. But the intense allure of learning Terminus—the forbidden among forbiddens—had seized her completely.
This is all for the sake of our people. If I acquire Terminus, a strategic weapon-grade spell, it will benefit Elvenheim as well, won’t it?
Feeding herself that excuse, Almesia changed her plans. She abandoned the scheme to assassinate Altlich and followed the demon’s guidance to search the hidden chamber. In the end, she had arrived before Terminus itself.
She twirled with a giddy smile, analyzing the hexagram structure that sealed the spell. The conclusion came quickly.
“Hmm. The seal is simpler than I expected. If six people stand at the points of this hexagram and pour in their mana, it will release.”
“Then, Holy Guardian…”
“There’s even an automatic mana conversion formula recorded here. Simply stepping onto it will handle everything automatically. Hurry and take your positions at the corners.”
At Almesia’s command, the four escort elves who had followed her moved onto the hexagram. Almesia herself stepped onto the remaining empty point. But one person refused to obey.
“Naelle, why aren’t you coming? Stand on the hexagram at once.”
“No.”
It was Naelle. She had drawn her bow and gripped it tightly, refusing outright. Interest flickered in Almesia’s eyes.
“Why are you refusing?”
“I don’t understand everything, but if you learn that spell, it means the alliance with the humans will be broken, right?”
“Yes. Exactly. So cooperate immediately.”
“I don’t want to.”
Naelle formed an arrow out of pure mana and nocked it. Her voice was firm. Almesia’s eyebrows quivered.
“I never imagined you would refuse.”
“Your imagination is pretty poor, then.”
“Naelle, you remember the betrayal the humans committed three hundred years ago, don’t you?”
Naelle’s eyebrows twitched at Almesia’s words. Three hundred years ago, at the height of the war between humans and the Demon World, the elves had been deceived by sweet promises and joined the conflict. When the tide turned against them, the northern grand duke in command had used the elves as disposable pawns, retreating and abandoning them. Afterward, he had even attacked and seized the free cities in the north that the elves had ruled.
“Elves never break their promises. The humans exploited that fact. They extracted a vow that we would stand at the vanguard, then broke their own word and fled the moment they fell into danger. We couldn’t break our promise, so we died like dogs—just to save a handful of humans. We hadn’t lived hundreds or thousands of years just to die that way.”
“That was…”
“Naelle, didn’t your own parents lose their lives on the Nosemburland Plains back then? Have you forgotten that grudge?”
It wasn’t only Naelle. The previous king—father of the current queen—had been unable to bear the guilt of that decision and had taken his own life. Almesia shouted fiercely.
“Everyone who follows me here suffered terrible losses at that time. Do you intend to ignore their resentment?”
Naelle hung her head and trembled. Almesia smiled, confident of victory. The Naelle she knew was weak. She was the half-wit who always grew soft during the marriage rites and finished dead last every time. She was certain Naelle would soon shuffle over dejectedly and take her place at the corner of the hexagram.
“You’re right. There were a lot of bad humans.”
“Then hurry and—”
“But there were good humans too.”
Once again, Naelle shattered Almesia’s expectations. She lifted her gaze with resolute strength.
“We could clearly have become friends. I don’t want to abandon my friends.”
She poured mana into the arrow and loosed it at Almesia. Almesia summoned a magical barrier with a scornful laugh and swatted the arrow aside.
“Ha. And who would that be? The hero?”
“Everyone.”
“Nonsense. It’s a man, isn’t it? You’d sell out our entire race just because you’re obsessed with one measly male.”
Almesia drew the wand hanging at her waist, a purple crystal dangling from its tip. The moment she poured mana into it, the wand expanded into a full-sized staff.
“If you think I won’t be able to kill a fellow elf and you’re throwing this childish tantrum, stop. I’m not like those idiots who worshipped you like an idol. I’m not stupid enough to cheer and scream just because you collapse pathetically and wave your hand around.”
“Then?”
“Submit. Or I’ll kill you.”
She was not bluffing. With a short chant, dozens of razor-sharp icicles materialized, all aimed at Naelle. Each one carried fierce mana capable of freezing the wounded flesh solid.
“Your answer?”
“It’s the same. No.”
“Ha!”
Almesia flicked her staff in irritation. A rain of icicles descended on Naelle. The elf dodged with nimble movements, but she could not evade every projectile. One struck her shoulder. The wet sound of tearing flesh echoed.
“Ugh!”
She ripped it out instantly, but the wound was already frozen solid. Even the bare hand that had grasped the icicle had gone white and numb.
“Your answer?”
Naelle slowly raised her head. This time Almesia had prepared dozens of fireballs hovering in the air, demanding an answer. She seemed to be toying with her prey.
“Ask me ten thousand times. The answer is still no.”
“Insolent wretch!”
This time a rain of fireballs poured down. Naelle poured every ounce of strength into dodging, but the result was similar. One fireball grazed her side, scorching her clothes and delivering searing agony.
“A talentless fool who can only ever finish in last place!”
Almesia laughed like a madwoman, hurling every kind of projectile she could conjure—blades of wind, water cannons. Yet Naelle refused to submit. She kept resisting with everything she had. Her resistance finally broke when a stone slammed into her abdomen.
“Cough!”
Spitting blood and fragments of viscera, Naelle finally lost all strength and collapsed to the floor. Almesia’s twisted laughter echoed throughout the chamber.
She strode over to the fallen elf, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and dragged her roughly onto the hexagram.
“As expected, you’re not only incompetent but stupid as well. It was always going to end this way.”
The hexagram drank the mana of the six elves standing upon it and glowed pure white. Moments later, the sealing array that had bound Terminus completely dissolved.
Almesia twisted her lips into a smile and reached toward the floating magic formula. The instant her fingers touched it, a violent gale erupted, whipping her hair wildly. When the wind finally died, the formula of Terminus had vanished without a trace.
She had mastered Terminus.
“I, Almesia, Scales of the World Tree, hereby declare that I have finally comprehended the endpoint of existence!”
Feeling the spell formula of Terminus flow into her mind, Almesia trembled with something close to religious ecstasy. It would not be an exaggeration to call it the most thrilling moment in her thousand years of life.
And then some insignificant fly ruined that perfect instant.
Another arrow flew straight for her chest.
“You insolent little—”
Almesia’s face twisted with pure annoyance. Her dress was shredded, her entire body burned, frozen, slashed, and ruptured into a wretched mess, yet Naelle still refused to give up. Leaning against the altar, the elf had somehow forced herself upright. She gripped her bow and kept firing arrows. Even in that ruined state, her eyes remained painfully clear.
Those eyes enraged Almesia beyond endurance. They resembled the eyes of a certain person she despised more than anyone.
Bursting into another piercing cackle, Almesia resolved to incinerate those insolent eyes with the strongest spell in her arsenal.
“If that is your wish, then I shall end that pathetic life for you right here!”
She began chanting madly. After reciting all seven verses, a phoenix of pure flame awakened at the tip of her staff and spread its blazing wings. It was the highest-tier fire magic just below Bahumet’s Hellfire—the Bird of Crimson Flame. Though inferior to Bahumet’s ultimate spell, it was still never meant to be used against a single person.
“Burn until not even ashes remain!”
When Almesia swung her staff, the phoenix perched upon it launched into a deadly glide. Its target was Naelle. The marble floor touched by its falling sparks melted into black slag.
Is this the end? Naelle squeezed her eyes shut.
At that exact moment, the necklace around her throat erupted with blinding light.
“Wh-what is—?”
Almesia let out a stunned groan. A wolf formed of mana deeper and bluer than the ocean had leaped out of thin air and swallowed the phoenix whole. The Bird of Crimson Flame, its wings and torso torn apart, had its magic formula dismantled on the spot. It melted into the air and vanished.
“That spell is…”
Almesia knew exactly what it was. There was no mistaking the highest-tier dispel magic, Power of Will. Yet even that spell had not been created to neutralize offensive magic.
It’s the kind of spell that requires hundreds of mages working together to strip away fortress-class protective barriers…
With the disappearance of the crimson bird, the air pressure warped violently. A fierce gale howled through the chamber, making it nearly impossible to keep one’s eyes open. Almesia narrowed her gaze and watched the situation unfold.
“You did well. You held on beautifully.”
A man’s voice rang out. Naelle, who had kept her eyes tightly shut, slowly opened them. Someone was holding her like a princess and speaking gently. As her blurred vision cleared, the face came into sharp focus.
It was Jain.
“Ah…” Naelle let out a sigh of pure relief and curled against his chest.
“I’m so sorry. Rest now. I’ll clean this up in a moment.”
Jain set her down gently and removed his crimson mage robe, draping it over her. The robe, crafted from the hide of a ten-thousand-year-old wyvern, possessed anti-magic properties strong enough to deflect nearly any spell. It would serve as an excellent fortress.
Almesia swallowed hard as she stared at the face of the crimson mage who had appeared so suddenly. That face—rarely—wore an expression of pure, unfiltered rage.