Seeing Through the Ruse
Crash! Shatter!
"Aaaagh?! No! After all the agony I went through to make that, it just breaks like that?! I don't even have the materials left to build another one!"
As the Mana Wave Blocker—trembling violently until the bitter end—finally fractured and burst into pieces, the second daughter of the ducal house, Stanashila Weller, let out a despairing shriek.
Deep down, however, she knew it was inevitable. The cataclysmic clash currently laying waste to Terabaon was far beyond anything an incomplete Mana Wave Blocker could ever hope to withstand.
"...Ha. This is insane. I'm staring right at it, and I still can't believe my own eyes."
Demonic energy and radiant aura collided on a scale colossal enough to swallow both heaven and earth. The sheer shockwaves surged and churned like living tidal waves, so devoid of reality that standing there felt like being dragged straight into a scene from an ancient myth.
A ferocious clash between two high demons. With the ducal house hanging by a thread, she ought to have rejoiced that the monsters were tearing each other apart—yet Weller's pallid face was steeped in heavy despair and resignation.
"Father... what on earth...?"
Because right in the heart of that apocalyptic storm stood her father.
Stanashila Urtega was coordinating seamlessly with Cambello, pressing the high demon Deacon as though they fought on the same side. His majestic might was undeniable, yet the inexplicable motive behind his actions reeked of impending doom.
"It's fine. It'll be fine..."
In truth, her brilliant, genius mind had already pieced together the fragments and arrived at the grim conclusion.
"It's going to be okay. Our family won't fall. There's no way that damned Aljen's words could be right..."
She was simply rejecting reality on purpose. After all, denial was the only solace she had left.
They sure know how to put on a flashy show.
"Whew..."
Leaning back and sipping my liquor while watching a battle that held the ducal house's fate in the balance stirred up a strange cocktail of emotions. Between the streaks of light resembling a grand fireworks display and the thunderous bursts tearing across the sky like a raging storm, my mind began to feel delightfully numb every time an explosion lit up my retinas.
"Stay awake, Aljen. You must not sleep."
"Mmh... whoa. Did I doze off?"
"It seemed you drifted off for a moment. Though I suppose it is only natural. You have suffered and labored far more than anyone else, after all."
"...Mother. Even with my nonexistent sense of shame, that's laying it on a bit thick."
I gave a slight, bitter smile at words that completely brushed aside the blood, sweat, and tears shed by the knights all day long. Her husband, Urtega, was literally out there fighting like a madman this very second. I knew she had a soft spot for family, but I hadn't realized she was this blindly indulgent.
"My goodness, Aljen. To think you can harbor such considerate thoughts. How admirable of you."
"......"
So this was the kind of parenting that allowed the original Aljen to run rampant as an absolute scoundrel. In a sense, maybe the bastard was a monster spawned by his environment. Still, ninety percent of the blame was undeniably his own.
"The fight is... whoa boy. Still going at it full tilt."
I let out a dry chuckle as I watched the combatants blur through the thick demonic fog at dizzying speeds, shifting between east, west, north, and south as if teleporting through space.
"Doesn't look like it'll wrap up anytime soon... Should I just take a nap and wake up when it's over?"
"Aljen. Watch until the very end."
Catching the faint reproach and reprimand in Pitra's gaze, I sighed and rubbed my tired eyes.
"Alright, alright. Yes, ma'am. It's a clash that decides our family's very survival, so I suppose watching is the least I can do."
"...Aljen. Do you know what state your father is currently in?"
"Who knows? I'm not entirely certain myself."
"Is that so? Then... it truly is in the hands of the Goddess."
"...??"
I tilted my head as she murmured those cryptic words and clasped her hands together in prayer. Was Stanashila Pitra a devout believer of the Church? I didn't remember that being anywhere in the game's setting material. Well, seeing a spectacle like that would make anyone want to find religion. Earth and sky choked in pitch-black malice, split wide by a blazing sword of light churning through the darkness. If I were just an ordinary peasant who knew nothing about what was going on, I would've been on my knees praying my lungs out too.
Gulp.
"Phew..."
Downing another mouthful of liquor, I lit a cigarette and blew a plume of smoke out the window. Watching that terrifying battlefield overlap with the rising curls of grey made the whole scene feel surreal.
"Brother... will Father really be alright?"
Just then, a small hand tugged gently at my sleeve.
"Hm? Ah, Vivian."
She was trembling like a leaf, looking as if she might burst into tears at any second. Evidently, this entire ordeal was terrifying for her.
"...Well, I can't say for sure. So let's just sit tight and see how it plays out."
She was thirteen, but since her growth spurt hadn't hit yet, she was still tiny enough that I easily lifted her onto my lap so she could get a clearer view out the window.
"Whoa..."
The instant her eyes locked onto the dazzling chaos of the battlefield, her tears vanished, replaced by an open-mouthed gaze of pure awe. Chuckling at how simple she was, I popped a piece of cheese into her mouth and squinted into the distance. Then, out of nowhere, a crucial detail regarding Deacon's Soul Gears flashed through my mind.
"...Ah, damn it. Mother. Can you cast a Silence spell? Over the entire Duke's Castle, if possible."
"Why so suddenly? That seems impossible right now. My mana is depleted. If other mages assist me, perhaps..."
"I'll round up the mages. Just get ready. Right now."
"...Understood. I shall."
Without wasting a second, I seized the communication artifact to mobilize the court mages.
Deacon was pressed, desperate, and consumed by anxiety.
It was not because of the two formidable adversaries capable of ending his life.
Grit...!
His gaze darted toward Stanashila Aljen, who was casually spectating from the castle balcony. The chances were slim. He might be getting deceived again. Or perhaps walked straight into a trap. Even so, he could not turn back now.
Resurrection.
The return of the dead—the revival of his beloved.
It was the singular purpose he had lived for, the sole road he had walked for centuries. Nothing else mattered. As long as he could achieve that goal, humans, demons, and the Demon God Himself held no value in his eyes.
Creak, creak...!
Which was why Deacon harbored nothing but sheer, boiling hatred for the demon and human blocking his path.
"Do not... interfere...!"
Instinct told him that Stanashila Aljen's personal strength and durability were pathetic. From Deacon's perspective, the human noble was no more durable than a passing mosquito. One stray curse from Cambello, a rush from the undead legion, or a single swipe of a Sword Master's Aura Blade would snuff Aljen out in an instant.
He could not allow that.
He needed the Elixir to fulfill his purpose. And to secure it, he had to slaughter these two nuisances once and for all.
"I said... do not get in my way...!!"
Resolved to unleash everything, the grotesque face of a woman weeping tears of blood tore through Deacon's chest. Dead white eyes, stiff mortified flesh, jagged teeth—it was undeniably the face of a corpse, yet its facial muscles squirmed with sickening vitality before its jaw hinged open impossibly wide.
"...!!"
"You truly intend to drag this to the bitter end, Deacon?!"
Sensing something catastrophic churning up from that abyssal throat, both Urtega and Cambello instinctively assumed defensive postures.
"SKREEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"
What erupted an instant later was an ungodly shriek that belonged nowhere in the mortal realm. It made the hair on one's neck stand on end, chilled the marrow to ice, and drenched the flesh in cold sweat, freezing the blood before it could reach the extremities. It was the absolute 'authority' of a Soul Gears forged from a staggering seventy percent of Deacon's soul.
Yet the true horror began only after the sound resonated.
Screeech! Crunch!
The scream burrowed relentlessly into flesh and soul alike, thrashing with chaotic abandon to rip apart and corrupt everything it touched. That vicious onslaught, steeped in sheer malice and obsessive will, felt like a maddened howl demanding one thing:
'Become just like me.'
"......"
Swirling aura simultaneously through the interior and exterior of his body to repel the conceptual assault, Urtega's expression shifted ever so slightly. The corner of his perpetually stoic mouth twitched upward.
"I see. So that is how it feels."
His raised blade ignited with brilliant, blinding radiance. In the very next breath—
Slash!
With anti-climactic ease, Deacon's body was cleanly bisected.
"...!?"
Split vertically down the center, Deacon took a beat to comprehend what had just happened before his eyes widened in horror. He wasn't regenerating. Ever since fusing with Sisily after turning her into a Soul Gears, his body straddled the boundary between material and immaterial, rendering him practically immortal. Yet right now, he felt his existence severed across both planes at once.
"An... authority...?"
It had looked like a plain sword strike, yet within it lay an ultimate truth touching a distant, untouchable realm—an absolute authority governing the single concept of 'to cut.'
Death. Sensing his unavoidable demise drawing near, Deacon cast a sorrowful, anguished gaze up at the sky and moved his trembling lips.
"Ah... Sisily..."
—Aaaaaaaagh!
With a final, bone-chilling wail of a vengeful ghost, Deacon's unholy existence came to an end. It was an almost hollow death for a high demon who had roamed the world for centuries.
"...Ha, hahaha! Magnificent! Truly magnificent! To think you possessed such power!"
Staring dumbfounded for a brief moment, Cambello soon broke into a smile tainted by filthy ecstasy. Ravenous obsession and greed flickered wildly in his serpent-like eyes.
"I never needed to summon someone like Deacon in the first place! Stanashila Urtega! You alone were more than enough! Kuhahaha! To think my own caution was the very shackle slowing me down!"
Cambello snapped his arm forward, pointing directly toward the Duke's Castle, his voice booming with authority.
"Go, Stanashila Urtega! Destroy the very ducal house you built alongside my undead! Plunge those pathetic, inferior humans into total despair! Only then shall you be reborn as a true demon!"
"...Understood."
With dim, hollow eyes and a lifeless expression, Urtega lowered his sword and took long, unhesitating strides forward. Shivering with uncontrollable delight, Cambello leisurely trailed behind him.
So Deacon is dead.
Dying right on the cusp of finding the hope he sought for centuries... His entire existence really was a tragedy from beginning to end.
"...Looks like the curtain's about to drop."
As I muttered those words while watching Stanashila Urtega emerge alongside Cambello, Vivian looked up at me from my lap with anxious eyes.
"Brother..."
I patted the little girl's head reassuringly while keeping my eyes fixed on Urtega. At first glance, he seemed entirely puppeted by the curse. But no matter how I looked at it, the man who had just cut down Deacon was Urtega in his right mind. How was that possible? Did he temporarily regain his senses?
Hmm...
In the game's lore, Deacon was an unstable being whose physical and non-physical states were intertwined because he had fused with Sisily's Soul Gears. That was why his physical attack nullification and evasion rates were absurdly high. Even a normal Sword Master shouldn't have been able to cleave him in two with a single strike.
Yet the deed was done. Which meant... that could only imply one thing.
"...Ha!"
A sudden burst of laughter escaped my lips.
"What is it, Aljen?"
"Ah, damn it all. I was totally fooled."
"Brother...?"
"Vivian, watch closely. From here on out, Father is going to cut down the enemy in the most spectacular fashion and bring peace back to our home."
"What...?"
Hearing my unwavering confidence, Vivian turned her wide eyes toward Urtega. Right on cue, under Cambello's triumphant command, the Duke began manifesting a gargantuan Aura Blade that seemed vast enough to scrape the heavens.