Tell Me (14)
Gunter momentarily doubted his own eyes. The teal-green hair fluttering as blood sprayed in every direction made the scene feel thoroughly unreal.
No—the scene itself was not unreal. Lord Emerald slaughtering demons and painting the air with their blood was an everyday sight.
But this… this was different.
“Father…?”
The one who had just died was no demon.
Thud.
The head of the man who had risen into the air struck the ground. It did not burst like a smashed watermelon, yet part of the skull caved in and blood spattered once more. The hair scattering in every direction was a deep indigo-blue.
“Treason!!”
“The Lord!”
“L-Lord Emerald!”
In an instant the air filled with screams and uproar, and somehow it all seemed to recede into the distance.
Gunter’s knees folded on pure reflex. He vaguely saw Lord Emerald’s page, who had been stammering, “S-Sir Knight, why—” cough up blood, then the youth vanished from sight as Gunter’s gaze sank lower.
What remained in view was someone’s severed head that had rolled right to his feet.
“Fa… Father.”
He stretched a hand toward the face framed by indigo hair. The trembling fingers stopped short, never quite touching.
The face that had never even registered its own death still glared at him with savage intensity.
“Fa… Father.”
Was that expression unfamiliar? No. The Lord always wore that look when he beheld demons. He wore the same face whenever he expressed disappointment in his son.
Thus it was more familiar than strange—and for that very reason, a face Gunter had never liked.
“Father…”
Yet he had never once imagined that face dying while still wearing such an expression.
If someone had to die, if death were inevitable, he had always believed it would be himself, not this man.
Why?
“Young Lord, fall back! You men—protect the Young Lord! And you—report the situation to the Pearl Knight at once…!”
Why…?
“Gyaaah!”
“Everyone back, ba—ghhhk!”
“You’ve been hiding your strength…!”
Gunter lifted his head in a daze. One body missing its head. Two people collapsed with chests pierced. Three with limbs severed. Four soldiers whose heads had been run through or whose chests and limbs had been slashed.
And standing at the center of it all—one knight.
“Emerald! Why, why this treason—!”
“Ah… so it’s treason.”
Those who had barely managed to form a circle around her shouted until the veins stood out on their necks. At that, the knight with teal-green hair deepened the smile she had been holding.
The face that had seemed like a doll’s or a mask’s finally looked human. Not in any good sense.
Her languid smirk shook people to the depths of their hearts and planted pure rage. It was a smile that completely disregarded the fury, grief, shock, and betrayal her own actions had caused them.
“I do not regard it as such, but call it what you will. Treason or betrayal… mere words will not alter your fates. On the road to your end I shall at least grant you freedom of speech.”
“Emerald!!”
“However, I will no longer tolerate being addressed by that name.”
Even the Sapphire Knight and the Topaz Knight who had come running upon learning the situation, even the countless elite soldiers, seemed to hold no value in her eyes.
She acted as though none of them posed a threat, as though the entire situation were nothing more than a trivial incident to her.
“You traitor!”
“Lord Topaz, if you charge in recklessly—!”
“Do not address me by a title bestowed by lowly humans. It is an insult and a contempt toward me.”
Ah, how arrogant. How utterly prideful her bearing.
“I am the Commandment of this land.”
Through that haughtiness Gunter defined the truth of the being before him.
She was neither their ally nor a human being. She was evil that carried one branch of original sin—one of the sins themselves.
The soldiers kept their faces rigid yet never left their posts. Guarding a mage whose allegiance was still uncertain, they seemed to believe, would bring more safety than adding one more body to the walls.
Well, even an Archmage could level a building if given enough time to finish a chant, so the decision was not entirely incomprehensible.
When friend and foe are unclear, vigilance is the safer path.
“That’s the signal that the demons are attacking, right?”
“…It is not a signal to advance. It means the probability is high enough that the residents should prepare to evacuate.”
“I see… In any case, I hope the damage stays light.”
And so I, too, abandoned any thought of moving. It was by no means because I expected the coming battle to spare the people great harm.
“I’m sorry.”
“…What sort of apology is that?”
“Not some final-conscience sort of thing, so don’t worry. It’s simply… regrettable that I cannot join the fight.”
I had chosen, for my own sake, to forgo intervention. Even knowing that many would die in this battle, even knowing that a mass of Demon Energy comparable to a Great Demon was approaching—I still chose it.
I will not move.
Any action of mine would only breed suspicion, so I will turn my back on them.
To help them I would have to reveal my power. Revealing my power would expose my identity. This place, unlike Behen Village, left no room to conceal anything.
Therefore I will absolutely not intervene.
I…
I…
“I’d like to help, but… it saddens me that I can’t.”
I will not help this city.
“I never wanted to become this kind of person.”
Not until the real Demon Knight promises something worth enduring all of this—never.
“…Truly wretched.”
I clasped my hands together. Having to go this far simply to return home felt utterly desolate.
I love you, son.
Thank you for being born.
But you two have to understand someone like me. You simply have to.
I wanted to be a person who could hold my head high all my life, too…
“Please.”
Don’t let me become any more wretched than this. I prayed before the pealing bells. The city wall—neither far nor near, with soldiers coming and going in plain sight—stood in place of a holy statue.
I almost thought I heard screaming.
“…So you were a demon worshiper all along.”
Claus—known in Munmunt by the bestowed name Sapphire Knight—sensed with bone-deep certainty that this very moment was the city’s greatest crisis.
“An unpleasant conjecture. There exists no being on this earth more exalted than I; why would I worship anyone else?”
It was not merely because of the demons beyond the walls. Countless demons had always sought to invade this city.
The Lord’s assassination, however tragic, was still within the realm of contingency. Munmunt kept a clear line of succession ready for the sudden death of its supreme commander.
“…How arrogantly you speak.”
Even the betrayal of a Chief Knight who held such heavy responsibility was something the city had prepared for. If Munmunt fell, the surrounding cities would be exposed to catastrophic danger; such foresight was only natural.
“Well, of course someone who knows neither his place nor his limits would commit an act like this.”
In other words, taken one by one, each of these events could become hardship, but none alone could threaten Munmunt’s survival. Had they arrived separately, that would have been true.
Now that every one of them had piled atop the others, the city was a candle before the wind.
“Yes… Sapphire, among the idiots filling this city you were at least one whose head turned a little.”
“……!”
“But even that amounts to nothing more than mild shrewdness.”
Claus narrowed his eyes at the figure who remained utterly unmoved by the provocation. He realized that the authoritative, haughty words meant to bait a reaction had failed completely.
“And furthermore…”
Clang!
“……!”
“Topaz, you too are crude and weak beyond measure.”
While she held his gaze, the ambush Topaz Knight had launched also failed. Though not large for a knight, her eyes looked down upon the world as though from a great height; they regarded the blocked blade with a lukewarm sneer.
“Did you think sealing that noisy mouth of yours would somehow erase your vulgar frivolity?”
Her voice, clear as song and elegant as a crane’s step, poured out words that planted defeat, soft and relentless.
“Emerald…!”
“…I believe I told you not to call me that.”
Still smiling, she chilled only her eyes and put strength into her arm. The contest of two hands against one—half-swording versus a free hand—had been evenly matched until that instant; then the balance tipped all at once.
It was around then that Claus recalled why Emerald had become Emerald: the green jade, specialized against humanoid foes, undefeated in that domain.
Topaz, expert monster-hunter. Pearl, master of tactics. Himself, Sapphire—outstanding in nothing, deficient in nothing.
And Emerald, peerless against human opponents.
At this rate Topaz was in danger. Claus drove power into his legs and sprang forward.
“Hup.”
Topaz likewise held his breath and moved with fluid grace into the next motion.
The force contest that had already tilted lost all meaning; her blade, which had slipped sideways, transformed naturally into a thrust. If the traitor failed to evade she would be impaled; if she tried to dodge, Claus’s sword would cut her down.
“You creatures are wondrously foolish.”
Yet their opponent fell to neither.
Blue haze rose from the hand that had discarded Topaz’s sword, and that very blade was seized. Even with skin reinforced, the cut still bit; the traitor’s white glove stained faintly red.
Ting!
Claus’s sword was violently repelled by a main-gauche that shot out from the folds of her skirt-like clothing.
“My Lord! The Pearl Knight and several others have been poisoned—hurk!”
“Hmm. So he finally died. Had there been a little more poison I could have sent the rest of you off cleanly as well… a pity.”
Yet turning a deflected blade smoothly back into an attack trajectory was elementary.
Claus gritted his teeth at the news of the death of the most senior knight, the one most skilled in overall command. Topaz, too, abandoned the immobilized sword, seized—half-stole—a blade from a nearby soldier, and continued the assault.
“You son of a bitch—you used poison too?!”
“…First betrayal, now base and underhanded methods. I no longer know how far you have fallen!”
In the midst of it all, however, Claus felt a faint discordance.
Poisoning the Pearl Knight he could accept, but leaving two Chief Knights untouched while targeting ordinary knights seemed odd.
“How is the use of poison base or underhanded? Had you been wiser you would never have fallen for it.”
Failing to poison the Lord was understandable if the man never put food to his lips without tasting first.
The Young Lord had been starving since yesterday, yet even that opportunity for poison had never been considered.
“Or am I wrong?”
Not poisoning every knight also lay within reason.
After all, Munmunt inspected even a Chief Knight’s baggage with such rigor that only so much poison could ever be smuggled in.
Moreover the traitor had returned only yesterday; she would have had no chance to stockpile poison and therefore had to set priorities. Yes—up to that point the logic held.
Leaving two Chief Knights alive while prioritizing lesser knights made no sense whatsoever.
“Traitor…”
Or perhaps every surviving knight had already joined her side?
No. That could not be. Even then the Chief Knights should have been eliminated first. Topaz’s raging fury proved he was no ally of hers, which only strengthened the point.
“Wait—could it be…!”
“Oh, you’ve noticed?”
Then there had to be a reason she needed to kill ordinary knights before the Chief Knights.
And if one considered the greatest difference between the dead Pearl Knight and the two still living…
“Damn it—evacuate the Young Lord at once!”
“As expected, you possess a measure of wisdom.”
It was the ability to survey the entire battlefield and issue command. The dead knights had almost certainly been chosen first for their superior leadership.
“And at the same time you are irredeemably foolish.”
“Lord Topaz, leave this to me—you protect the Young Lord…!”
Without someone who could grasp the situation across every wall and coordinate the defense, even if they slew the traitor the city would still fall to the demons outside.
Claus realized it and shouted at once, yet the opponent was a step faster.
“You still cling to the hope that you can stop me, even though you never could.”
Thud! Her leg slammed into his chest. Crack. He did not die, but he felt his ribs snap.
“I’ll be borrowing this.”
At the same moment his waist lightened. The spare dagger he carried just in case had been taken.
“……! Young Lord! Dodge!”
Even Topaz had been flung aside; no one remained to restrain her. Claus whipped his head around toward the Young Lord’s position.
Gunter, guided by soldiers, was already some distance away, heading for a safe zone.
“Do you know this?”
Yet would that distance truly protect him?
“Young Lord, I have never liked you.”
The figure who had closed inside the reach of the spear-wielding elites drove the main-gauche’s blade into an eye and tore it open. She had struck the precise gap the helmet could not cover.
Slash!
The dagger’s edge followed in a spray of blood. What it traced was another soldier’s throat.
The blade slipped through the gap between helmet and chain mail, severed vessels, and cut bone.
“Get clear! Young Lord!”
Of course Claus and Topaz pursued at once. Yet the traitor was not killing soldiers merely to break the encirclement.
The falling dead toppled among the living and forced them to hesitate for precious instants. Even when the living soldiers tried to clear a path, the delay could not be prevented.
The traitor’s speed in killing her way forward outstripped the soldiers’ speed in recognizing the threat and stepping aside.
“So die. The world will be better for it.”
In the blink of an eye she had shattered the cordon, and at last her blade reached the Young Lord.
“Keep the words you spoke.”
Sunlight from the east cast long shadows across the wall.
Clang!
Main-gauche and longsword collided.