I'm Not That Kind of Person (3)
“Bishop Greaze. Preparations are complete.”
“Grrr. Well done.”
The Fourth Finger of the Forgotten God.
Greaze of the Red Nails, who led one of the remaining heretic remnants, glared at the mansion.
His eyes burned.
The talents who would one day lead this detestable empire were gathered inside that very house.
Revolting creatures.
The sound of laughter—ha-ha, ho-ho—drifted out.
Rage boiled over.
While the heretics shivered in the mountain cold simply for having been forgotten, those people sat warm indoors, guzzling wine.
Still, he had endured.
For the great cause that would be fulfilled in three years.
But all of it had turned to foam.
Because of a single man.
Arthur!!
The heretics’ nightmare.
The blood-mad Holy Knight, the Knight of the Full Moon—Arthur Moraiter.
Arthur had appeared without warning and swept the heretic band away.
Exactly as he had in his prime.
Greaze was one of the few who had survived that era and witnessed it with his own eyes.
There was no mistaking it.
How had he regained his power?
Arthur had lost his Aura Hole in some incident.
A wound no priest could heal.
It could not even be called an illness.
An eternal loss that could never recover.
Even divine grace had been powerless.
Only an elixir from myth might have managed it.
That was how it should have been.
Yet the silver aura that blazed while he stood with the moon at his back had been so fierce it momentarily outshone the moon itself.
A chill ran through him; just remembering it made his nails tremble.
The red nails had been “grafted” after that disaster, yet they still reacted as if they had lived through the massacre themselves.
The sole consolation was that Arthur had not recovered his full strength.
Roughly half of his prime, by Greaze’s estimate.
But even that had been enough.
Enough to leave the heretics with a fatal wound.
Arthur had fled with nothing more than a shallow cut.
The heretics, by contrast, had been nearly annihilated.
Their leader, Bishop Blake, left half-dead.
Roughly a thousand “believers” slain.
Roughly a hundred “priests” slain.
Every other bishop had survived—only to flee with the tattered remnants.
We have no more chances left.
The fact that the great cause had failed before it could even begin was proof enough.
This was the final opportunity.
A chance to topple those who, with serpent tongues, had made the world forget their god and seized all power and wealth for themselves.
“Tonight we kill everyone except three. Do not forget.”
“Understood, Bishop.”
Among the noble youths attending the ball, only three were useful:
The second son of the Alcarte ducal house that ruled the underworld—Evan Alcarte.
The eldest daughter of the Fraus count house that dominated the south—Asella Fraus.
The second daughter of the Yorta merchant house, eternal runners-up—Velia Yorta.
Originally Velia Yorta had been marked for death.
That had been the commission from the Yorta eldest daughter.
But Greaze, sensing Velia’s potential, had changed his mind.
We need money.
Though younger than her sister, Velia possessed far sharper business sense and a far quicker mind.
Enough to make her sister jealous.
A head like that was useful.
It could become the foundation for a comeback.
Asella Fraus?
That one could be finished with a simple “transaction.”
Everyone already knew Asella dreamed of becoming a second Alcarte house.
Everything had been proceeding smoothly.
Except for one person.
Evan Alcarte.
Almost no information existed.
Most of what circulated was mere “rumor.”
Yet one could not act on rumor alone.
And if one did believe the rumors, the problem only grew worse.
There was no way to estimate just how enormous a figure he might be.
Priority is subjugation.
Greaze bit his lip.
Damn it! If only that brat were still with us, this would be so much easier…!
Shuper.
A mysterious child born under a vast destiny, one the god himself had commanded them to protect.
Intelligence Greaze alone possessed.
—Until the time arrives, you shall keep silence.
The child’s defining trait was dazzling eloquence.
One priest swayed by that tongue had taken his own life.
With that child, anything would have been possible!
Losing him at the end still ached like a broken bone.
They would reclaim him later, without fail.
It was the god’s will.
“Is everyone ready?”
“Yes, Bishop.”
The priest bowed.
In each of their hands was a flask of crimson liquid.
They looked up at the sky.
The sun was sinking; the heavens filled with sunset.
The hour had come.
Greaze nodded.
“All of this—”
He too drew a flask of red liquid from his coat.
The preparation required to receive the god’s grace.
“—is for the god.”
The moment they drank the potions—
Kuuuuuuung!
The earth heaved violently.
“!”
An attack?
Greaze dropped low and flared his red nails.
As the god’s grace surged through him, red fur bristled, his eyes turned scarlet, and his frame began to swell.
A body remodeled through repeated “experiments” solely to kill Arthur.
The power that had earned him the name Red Nails.
Whoever comes, I’ll tear them apart!
Just as the wildness was about to explode outward—
Kugugugugugugu!
The ground twisted and a barrier began to rise.
An endless wall soaring skyward.
They realized too late and charged, but it was already over.
Thud!
A barrier that completely sealed them in.
Greaze’s expression hardened.
Then—
Step.
A small footfall sounded.
Evan slowly withdrew his hand.
Far away, at the place where the heretic remnants had gathered, the earth twisted and a barrier rose into view.
Whew! It worked.
He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
Had he used too much mana?
A faint dizziness swam through him.
Unavoidable.
He had been far too startled.
Seriously, why did they have to pop out all of a sudden?
Fortunately the body he had possessed possessed decent potential.
For a first-year, this level wasn’t bad.
Still far short of a player, of course.
Velia, who knew none of this, saw it differently; her mouth hung open in shock.
“……That barrier. Did you do that?”
“Yes.”
“With a single touch of your hand? That’s impossible…… I was told you were an alchemist……”
“Any alchemist can do this much.”
“……”
Velia pressed her lips shut.
She seemed to have accepted it.
Well, this much was average, wasn’t it?
It was not.
Velia had not accepted it at all.
Inwardly she compared him to every alchemist she knew.
The range of the transmutation…… far wider. And he used far less mana.
An overwhelming difference in capability.
A low hum of awe escaped her.
No wonder they call him the youngest alchemist.
Gulp.
She swallowed dryly.
It meant he could kill, kidnap, or imprison an enemy anywhere, at any time.
She finally understood why the other noble youths feared him.
But I can’t back down here.
This was the only chance.
A chance to escape her witch of a sister and survive.
A chance to achieve the lifelong dream of “independence”!
Just then Evan spoke.
“Are they trying to kill you?”
“……Yes. That’s right. They’re heretics. Probably……”
Velia’s lips moved for a moment before she hung her head low.
“My sister commissioned them.”
Evan now understood why he had never known the name Velia.
A character who exited before the main story even began.
Killed or abducted right here, no doubt.
No wonder he hadn’t recognized her.
Who would bother mentioning someone who died three years ago?
When signs of the world’s end were already at the door?
Anyway.
Isn’t this an opportunity?
Evan looked down at the back of her head.
Not knowing whether she was an ally or a villain was a drawback, true.
Even if she’s a villain, I might be able to reform her the way I did Lapis.
And if not, that was fine too.
Simply building a connection here would be enough.
If things went south he could cut ties later.
Not bad at all.
A truly manly idea, if he said so himself.
“You asked me to save you.”
“……Yes.”
“You said you would pay any price. What price will you pay?”
Velia bit her lip.
Um, she’s not going to offer something weird, is she?
Like her heart or something.
He didn’t want that.
Just give him connections.
“……I will give you everything you desire.”
“That’s rather abstract.”
“……Or is there something specific you want?”
Velia stole a cautious glance.
He’s not going to toss me back over there just because he doesn’t like the answer, right?
“Yes.”
Evan nodded.
“Connections.”
“……Connections?”
“I would like you to help me form friendships at this ball.”
……Wasn’t that too easy a request?
A faint question clouded Velia’s expression.
She was a born merchant.
Handling people was child’s play.
She would rather have been asked for money.
Evan read the hesitation.
Hmm, too light?
“And I would like those connections to continue afterward as well.”
Not a one-time acquaintance that ended here, but lasting ties he could keep communicating with!
“……Is that…… all?”
A bit cheap……?
Still, saying more would look greedy.
He wasn’t some small-minded man.
……Tch. Should I add just one more condition?
Evan attached one extra clause.
“Additionally, if you know of any other connections that might prove useful, I would appreciate an introduction.”
In truth Velia’s personal network was not especially important.
It was merely the bare minimum of justification to dress up the earlier request.
This much should look like a simple favor, right?
To Velia, however, it sounded entirely different.
Useful connections?
Were the earlier words a trap, and this the real demand?
To uncover the connections only she possessed?
How did he know?
A cold sweat prickled.
Does he know the Alchemy Tower contacted me?
The Alchemist Tower.
An organization that had long maintained a closed-door policy.
But the times had changed.
Their thinking had changed, and internal reforms were slowly underway.
They had approached her saying they were ready to begin exchanges, and by luck she had ended up leading the negotiations.
Her sister had opposed it.
Why trust those lunatics, she had said.
In reality it was pure jealousy of Velia’s ability.
And that jealousy was the very reason Velia’s life was now being targeted.
As a fellow alchemist…… of course he would take an interest.
Had he known from the start and waited for her to approach?
So that she would come to him more easily?
……Impossible.
The timing was far too convenient to be coincidence.
From attending the ball all the way to this very moment.
If every step had been planned?
……The rumors were true?
Recent rumors claimed he had made contact with two great figures—the Saintess of the Sun and the Knight of the Full Moon.
Some even whispered that Evan stood behind them.
Someone who painted on so vast a canvas could certainly arrange something like this, couldn’t he?
Perhaps the true power is Evan Alcarte……!
Had she approached the wrong person?
Too enormous a figure.
A faint fear rose in Velia’s eyes.
“……???”
The one receiving that gaze, Evan, had no idea what was going on.
Why is she looking at me like that?
Did I say something wrong?
……Nothing seemed off to him.
Evan frowned slightly in confusion, and the misunderstanding only made Velia’s face grow paler—
When suddenly—
Whoosh!
“Evan!”
The curtain was flung aside and Lapis and Shuper burst in at a run.
“It’s an emergency!”
“……What is the matter?”
“There was a weird woman pacing around out front so I chased her off, but that wasn’t the weird part……!”
Lapis flapped both arms.
The carrot she had been chewing fell with a soft plop.
“Shuper’s acting weird!”
“……Shuper?”
Shuper was staring at the barrier with a rigid face.
Far too serious an expression.
Did he have some connection to those heretics?
“……I have to go there.”
Shuper fixed Evan with earnest eyes.
“……I need you.”
“?”
“If you’re not scared, come with me. Please.”
Scared?
That lightly scraped him.
True to a future Sin, the kid’s tongue was sharp.
Of course it was only a light scrape.
Nothing more.
……It should be fine to go, right? Lapis is here too.
He was going because he had been asked.
He would never show it, of course.
“……Very well.”
I’m…… a guardian, after all……!
Evan reassured himself inwardly.
It would definitely be safe!
And just in case—
Clack, clack!
The Living Armor transformed into solid plate.
The bracelet combined into a staff.
Everything ready to shift into a small golem or shield at any moment.
I only brought Number Four just in case…… but this should be enough.
He summoned Number Four.
Checked the items he had prepared separately.
Three high-grade recovery potions, three antidotes as well.
All small vials, so the quantity was modest, but the effect was certain.
Good.
Preparations complete.
His clothes were a little wrinkled, but a quick shake later would fix that.
“Velia.”
“……Y-yes?”
“Stay right here. You will be safe.”
Leaving those words, Evan headed for the barrier.
There was no need to run or climb down.
Whoosh!
Number Four lifted Evan onto its shoulder, then scooped Lapis and Shuper onto either arm.
Ssshk!
Carrying them all, Number Four melted silently into the darkness and vanished.
In that same instant—
Far away, a silver pillar of light shot up above the barrier.
Instinct made the truth clear.
That was the famous aura of the Knight of the Full Moon, Arthur Moraiter.
And through it, certainty arrived.
Evan.
He truly was commanding that merciless knight as if the man were a mere subordinate.