Existence (8)
I barely twisted my body clear of Berserk's invitation.
Once again, I had to tip my hat to Dev's covering fire—he'd pulled me aside the moment something "important" occurred to him. Sure, he probably just didn't want to be there either, but still.
Ah, and my thanks also went to the temple staff, who had dutifully carried out my request that no one—no matter who—be allowed in. Thanks to them, I'd been able to hole up in the temple and dodge Berserk entirely.
"Stoning a corpse. Truly, there are so many ways in this world to insult the dead."
And so a day passed.
"They sold the rest of us to a demon. Being insulted in death is the least they deserve."
"Who said otherwise?"
Before I explain the scene of people hurling stones at corpses, maybe I should cover a few other things first.
The people of Far Enoch had spent a full day watching for any sign of a follow-up invasion. The moment that possibility looked slim, they fell back on the manual they had spent long years putting together.
Even while remaining on guard against another assault, they began repairing the walls they had only hastily patched in the heat of battle, one section at a time, and started rebuilding the more important buildings inside the city.
On top of that, the temple formally announced the existence of the traitors who had been embedded throughout the city.
With the fighting more or less over and the traitors already dealt with, they must have judged that revealing them now wouldn't spark further chaos.
Naturally, plenty of people refused to believe it at first. Setting mid- and high-ranking gladiators aside, three fighters who ranked among the top ten in popularity had been involved. That was no small thing.
But this was the front line.
With evidence in hand, and in a place like this of all places, who was going to keep defending people who had colluded with the enemy?
The anger that followed was proportional to how much they had once believed—and the result of that anger was the stoning of corpses. The bastards were already dead; you couldn't kill them again. So they wouldn't even let the bodies rest in peace.
Of course, to modern eyes it was an extremely barbaric act… but the worldview was different, and the development of human rights was different. You just had to endure it.
And even that was relatively kind treatment. The fate reserved for Muwang—who had reigned as the number one for over five years—was far worse.
That man had been dismembered, his remaining chunks of flesh impaled on spears and put on display. The stones found him without fail as well.
"…I wonder what Kankan is doing right now."
Dev, who had not joined the spectacle but was looking down on it from the walls, murmured quietly. He must have been thinking of the fact that the two of them had been friends.
"I saw him leading the pack, throwing stones. You didn't?"
"……?"
"……?"
Even that was immediately overturned into shock by the Inquisitor's words.
Whether he was more stunned that he had found out later than the Inquisitor, or that Kankan had been throwing stones at all, I wasn't sure.
Probably both? Both points surprised me too.
"Shouldn't the lord be hanged as well?"
"If we hang him now, what happens to the transfer of authority? It won't be too late after we're certain the demons aren't coming."
"I'm not even sure this is a hanging matter to begin with. The lord didn't collude with the demons."
"But some of the citizens died."
"Muwang killed them."
Meanwhile, behind us, high-ranking officials had gathered to continue debating the lord's crimes.
Roughly: the bishop of the diocese, the commanders who had directed the battle in the lord's place, and various other high officials. Archmage was nestled among them as well, in his capacity as a Great Sage of the Magic Tower.
"He must be stripped of his position."
"Isn't that a bit hasty? We should first confirm whether there's anyone ready to succeed him."
"So we just leave him as he is? We should at least appoint a proxy."
"Hah—and who do you propose to put up as proxy? What if the demons attack while we're still deciding that?"
"Would a demon who spoke of maintaining the status quo really attack?"
Ah—we had been dragged into this because we'd distinguished ourselves so thoroughly in the battle, and because each of us had a reason to be summoned.
I was there to testify about the Great Demon, Dev to confirm the ones he'd killed, the Inquisitor because she was the Hero. Roughly those reasons.
By now it was all finished, and we had stepped back to just listen to them talk.
"Whatever else, believing in a demon is unacceptable."
"Ah, Great Sage."
At that point Archmage, who until then had mostly watched the city folk handle things themselves, slipped in a remark.
"I agree with the view that a demonic invasion seems unlikely in the near term. But whether that is truly so, no one can know. We must never neglect our vigilance."
Archmage went on to say that the demon's intent itself needed to be questioned.
"That being conveyed its will to 'maintain the status quo' through the Demon Knight. But no one makes a proposal that benefits only the other party. Least of all a demon."
"Then?"
"What we must look at is this: Sloth induced humans to betray even though they were not its contractors. And that scheme even escaped the temple's notice."
"…So even if the same thing happened again, it would be hard to catch."
"Precisely. In that sense, maintaining the status quo is not necessarily a good thing for this city."
Stagnant water rots. The result of that rotting was this latest betrayal.
Of course, this incident had flushed the water once… but would there truly be no next time? Once this moment passed, the water would stagnate again.
"Demons are undying beings. For such a being to invest ten years, twenty years in this city is no great span of time. So no matter who the lord becomes, no matter what they do—oversight of this matter must continue. For as long as we share a front with that demon. Forever."
That was the point Archmage drove home. He insisted that surveillance would have to be tightened further to prevent the corruption of gladiators going forward, and he cautioned them repeatedly about the Great Demon's schemes.
Fortunately, not a single person listening let those words slide past them.
"Then all the more reason to replace the lord, isn't it?"
"Even so—the battle has only just ended…"
"At the very least, stability…"
That said, it didn't mean the severity of the lord's punishment had been decided.
"This is pissing me off."
Dev, who had been watching the range of punishments under discussion, spat out his discontent. I couldn't disagree.
He was relieved that punishment was being handed down at all—but if you asked whether those punishments were really the right ones, I'd tilt my head too.
Still: when a single criminal has the ability to save many people, is it right to punish him severely—or is it right to suspend or lighten the sentence so that more lives can be saved? That kind of question is always hard.
"He deserves to die."
"Then kill him."
I leaned against the wall and muttered it quietly. Dev looked up at me. So did the Inquisitor.
"Ah, Demon Knight, that's…"
"And take responsibility."
"……!"
"For the price of what you've done."
A rogue-class character's storyline often begins with assassinating a noble who murdered a friend and still lives perfectly well. In other words, their trigger is an evil person who has gone unpunished.
So if Dev wanted to kill the lord, I figured he could. Throughout the story, rogue characters are drawn as people who represent the weak and carry out their revenge for them.
"If a city that has lost its head collapses—if the front line breaks because of it—and whether you live or die in the process: that is yours to accept."
Did I personally relate to that storyline? Honestly, not really. I'm not someone who endorses private justice. I understand it, but I don't think it's right.
"If you understand, draw your sword. Draw it and prove your courage."
But I wouldn't stop him either. What right did I have? In the end it was a difference in values.
Besides, my character concept itself didn't care whether someone else got their revenge or not. If Dev wanted to fight the Inquisitor to mutual destruction, I'd have to send him off even if it made me cry.
"But if you don't have the confidence for that—put it away."
Mm. Still, personally, I hope you don't. Meat Dumpling.
If you pick a deathmatch with the Inquisitor, you're out of this party a hundred times out of a hundred… and then who's going to cover for my concept?
"……."
Leaving that complicated look on his face behind, I stepped out of the debate. Since the venue was in the castle, leaving it didn't mean I had nowhere to go.
My lodgings were at the temple anyway.
Rustle.
Of course I didn't go straight back to my room. Hah!
I set foot in the training grounds. With the colosseum here, the place was already set up—plenty of warriors came through as temple visitors.
"Hoo."
If I overdid the skills, I'd wreck the grounds, so I had to keep the training light.
From this last fight, I'd learned that when enemy numbers got too high, firing mana spears became painfully difficult. The impact points kept drifting just a little off.
There was no law saying the enemy would always come as big targets, so I wanted to get used to that much, at least.
Thud.
I kicked a pebble up with my foot.
The stone lofted into the air and was shattered to pieces by a mana spear. Not evenly—some fragments small, some large. The spear had punched through the edge of the pebble rather than its center.
A dynamic visual acuity problem? Was this the best my reflexes could do?
I frowned faintly and kicked up another pebble. Better than the last one, but not satisfying.
"It keeps missing because your control slips and the tip of the spear wavers."
After I'd tried for another few hours or so—
Someone stepped out of the dark. They'd approached smoothly while deliberately making their presence known, so maybe "stepped out" wasn't quite the word.
"You seem to have mana to spare, so I won't speak to that. Why not focus on the control side? If you learn to handle mana with precision, you can reduce consumption as well as improve accuracy."
"…You."
No—the temple people were supposed to keep anyone from getting in. How did she get through? Scale the wall?
More than that—the slight misses were because of that? Is it even possible to further adjust a skill after you've already activated it? I thought only the output level was adjustable.
I was startled by the newly learned fact even as I took hold of my sword and did my best to set the mood.
I'm starting to have doubts about my concept's temper myself—well, honestly, I had them from the beginning. But this damn pride of mine didn't much like taking advice either.
"It was just a suggestion. No need to bristle so much."
Judging by the way of speaking, this would be Weapon Master rather than Berserk, right?
With no difference in appearance, I had to go by speech and expression. The fact that those were so distinctively different that telling them apart was easy was the one real comfort.
"I heard from my sister. That she wants you to join her on the journey."
And when did she finish talking with Archmage?
"The goal is demon hunting, I hear. Is that right?"
I hesitated for a moment over whether I should answer that or not, then scowled.
"It is."
At the same time, I formed a mana spear in my hand.
"And you're part of that journey as well, aren't you?"
"A temporary companion."
"I see. A companion."
So—don't just fire this off; pay attention to control. But how am I supposed to control it?
Output I could manage by adjusting intensity the way you pour water from a jug. But something that had already left my hand—I didn't even have a clue where to start.
I'd already maxed out mana control, so there was no more correction to be had on that front. Not that I'd felt much of a difference even after putting the points in.
"When you project mana outward, condensing it is important. Mana has a nature of dispersing into the air."
"…You."
"For the record, I'm not talking to you. I'm reviewing for myself."
…Cheonsanga? Did all the social skills that should have gone to Berserk get dumped on this side instead?
"Mages manage control easily through formulas and incantations, but warriors like us are different. We have to do it purely through instinct and force of will."
If she said she was reviewing for herself, what was I supposed to say to that? It was a transparent excuse, but it was one my concept could accept.
I seized on her consideration at once. Of course, on the outside I ground my teeth as if my pride were wounded.
"There's no shortcut to this. That's also why you rarely see warriors who can handle mana at a visible level. Control refined enough to condense mana until it's visible is rare, and so is possessing that much mana in the first place. You seem to satisfy both conditions, though."
So that's why mana users aren't more common. Mana being visible is the unusual part, huh?
"But just because there's no shortcut doesn't mean there's no method at all. Mages begin accumulating mana from a single external point, whereas warriors build it up from within. So if you keep that carefully in mind…"
Keep that in mind…?
"Do you believe this journey will succeed?"
Do you know that one of the ways to thoroughly annoy someone is to cut them off mid-sentence?! Hraaaagh!!
And of all times, you cut me off right when we were past the theory and into the actual method! Completely blatant!
"…Not my concern."
I irritably loosed the spear I'd already formed. Then I made the next one.
I hadn't heard it all the way through, but I had the mileage of someone who'd consumed every fantasy work in sight. I wasn't going to cling desperately to a single hint.
"I'm asking because I'm curious. Whether I can entrust my sister to this journey or not… I need to know."
Earlier she said mages accumulate mana from the outside. Warriors from the inside. What's the difference between outside and inside?
…Surface area?
"If you're pessimistic about it, I won't find a reason to join this journey."
If you start from a single external point, you'd build mana in every direction—but if you start from within, maybe you don't worry about the parts that touch skin or weapons? Or is it the opposite—the parts in direct contact are what you focus on most?
Or maybe magic is like inflating a sphere, and this is more like coating…?
Is that even right?
"I told you. Not my concern."
Ah, I don't know. Practice really is different from theory.
Without lingering, I flung the second mana spear. With no target, it traveled a little farther than the last one before dissipating as it was.
"Why isn't it your concern?"
"Because whether you and your sister join this journey or not, whether this journey fails or succeeds—so long as I can kill demons, none of it matters."
As if sealing the point, I turned to look at Weapon Master. Her face, which had worn a gentle smile earlier, had gone stiff and hard.
Probably because of the murderous look on my face…
I, for one, was satisfied. Whether that side got recruited into the party was now out of my hands—and the concept had to be maintained properly either way.
"So get lost. I have no need for a coward who will only get in the way."
Ah—shall we say the temper that had quieted down because of the Yabad Region incident has come roaring back thanks to the Great Demon? It wasn't me who yelled "Did we get them?"—the Great Demon did on the way out.
The capable Norda warrior watched the man leave with his face twisted. She had heard the rough outline from Archmage, but he was harsher than expected.
"A good Norda warrior does not try to divine success or failure. She trusts herself and presses on toward her goal."
Still, it wasn't bad. Objectively speaking, it wasn't a good temperament—but the goal of the journey was what it was. For work like this, someone unyielding and stubborn was better than someone smooth-edged but weak.
Just as that child had been, the one who introduced herself as the Hero and, in the short time they spoke, so clearly displayed her steadfastness.
"I already thought the party was passing grade earlier."
Was it only their personalities that were rough? They all possessed the martial strength to make those personalities understandable. Not just the man walking away now—the others as well.
Even the rogue, who had ranked among the weaker ones, knew how to "hunt." That much was clear. In terms of combat power, every face in this party was more than enough to take as a comrade.
"Hmm."
And that wasn't all. Considering the wisdom Archmage had shown, and the wit the rogue friend had displayed in just a few words, they could handle Berserk's temperament as well.
They looked accustomed to managing so-called hardheads—people you couldn't reason with.
On top of that, the purpose of the journey was rather to her liking. She held no great grudge against demons, but Berserk needed battles that could push her to her limits.
In that sense, a journey where lives hung in the balance would be better than years of aimlessly seeking out the strong. And as a bonus, there was honor to be gained in saving the world.
"At this rate, it'll be even harder to give up."
But what had decided her most decisively… was not any of the above. Or rather—it was something tucked lightly among the things already mentioned.
"…I can't let go of someone who can beat Berserk."
In truth, even if everyone in this party had been weak, even if the journey had held no meaning—so long as the Demon Knight was there, she would have seriously considered joining.
After all, that man was the first to ever force the humiliation of defeat upon Berserk.
"Hah."
She mulled over the Demon Knight, who had improved at once the moment she offered him the slightest hint.
With that much overflowing mana, and talent like that on top of it—Berserk would never be able to defeat that knight. Not even if that knight had dropped out of formal training halfway through and, teaching himself, had run up against the walls of bad habits and incomplete theory.
"Beside a genius, she'll finally stop forcing it."
Yes. If Berserk kept moving on pure instinct the way she did now—if she kept forcing things—she would never beat that knight.
"…It's really time to stop."
Even childishness, if it goes on too long, is nothing but an eyesore. So if she was going to make her sister come to her senses, drastic medicine was the only option.
"Have you finished talking?"
Right on cue, the sage who had made the proposal—both through Berserk and to her face—approached.
She had already sensed his presence, so the Norda warrior rose to match his timing.
"Yes."
As for the decision, she had actually made it the moment the offer was extended. The only reason she had delayed answering was that she had wanted to examine that man's nature more closely.
"Then, your answer to the proposal?"
Now that she was certain he was not the sort of man who would run from a crisis, there was no further need to put off the answer.
And Berserk, so long as there was blood and struggle, would hardly oppose this journey.
"If all of you are willing… I would like to come along."
And so, she gladly decided to join this journey.