They Know a Good Thing When They See It... (6)
"M-monster..."
Most of the mercenaries lay sprawled across the floor. Any further fighting looked impossible. Ice spikes slick with blood carpeted the ground. Bleeding and frostbite had already drained the color from their faces until they were deathly pale.
In contrast, two figures still stood, bloodied but upright. David and Needle, knights of the Isco Kingdom, fixed Roy with expressions of pure dismay.
"Where the hell did a monster like this even come from..."
"No choice left. Forget capture—we end him right here. Leave him breathing and he'll be a permanent thorn in our kingdom's side."
"Agreed. Needle, he dies on this spot."
Until now they had held back, aiming to take him alive. That restraint was gone. They meant to pour every scrap of strength into snuffing out his life.
Tremendous mana bloomed around both knights. The swords in their hands blazed pure white.
Aura Blade.
A clean cut from those blades would leave even someone wearing an amulet far from unscathed.
"Surrender while you still can. No more mercy, brat. You were more than we imagined—but your mana has to be hitting its limit too."
"Who says?"
"Whether you were born a freak or used some other trick, that has to be the ceiling. Drop the bluff. You think it'll work on us?"
"Are you that scared of me you're trying to win with words?"
A sharp grind of teeth. The man was clearly furious.
To them Roy looked like nothing more than a boy, yet the memories of nearly sixty or seventy years—past life included—rested behind those eyes. He was nowhere near green enough to be rattled by a few sharp tongues.
"Noah. That's enough for today. Any more is dangerous. Those two I'll handle with the sword, not magic."
A minor miscalculation. He had been careful, yet the mana drain of holding Rapid Arthema had proven far steeper than expected. One wrong step and he might black out the way he had before. Worse, the two knights had taken only light wounds. If they simply ran out the clock until his mana was dry, the danger would become real.
Better safe than sorry.
—Ssrrrng!
He drew his sword at last.
"Ha? Pulling steel now? You must think we're a joke."
Seeing Roy switch from magic to a blade, the enemies sneered as though the sight were absurd. They already knew from Giyan that the boy could handle a sword. At first the claim that he excelled at both magic and steel had been impossible to believe; no longer. They had watched him put every last mercenary on the floor.
Still—that was all. However gifted, he remained a child. Clever, and with a respectable mana pool, but the spells he had shown so far were little more than parlor tricks. The casting speed had startled them, true—but who were they? Members of the Death Knight Order, the pride of the Isco Kingdom.
"Remember this, brat: there's always someone who flies higher than the one who runs!"
One of them lunged.
—Chaaeng!
Roy barely turned the blow. The aura-wrapped strike left his wrist throbbing, yet the blade itself stayed whole. A fierce red energy flared at once, sheathing the edge and protecting it.
"A Geren weapon, is it? Hmph. Let's see how long you last!"
—Chaaeng! Chaeng!
Needle's assault bored in without mercy, hunting every gap. Roy admitted he was being outclassed in pure swordsmanship. He had never counted on winning a straight fight to begin with.
Hwaaaah—mana suddenly roared along the boy's blade.
"...!?"
Aura Blade.
Needle's face twisted in shock.
"H-how—"
Roy had held the technique back for exactly this reason: to land a decisive blow in the instant of surprise.
"Haaht!"
Zziiik—Needle's side split open. Shallow, yet the Aura Blade had driven raw mana into the wound. The damage would be far from trivial.
Blood poured freely.
"Khuh."
"Out of the way, Needle! I'll take him! Haaht!"
Chaaeng, chaeng, chaeng.
David's onslaught followed at once. Roy clenched his jaw and seemed to barely weather the storm—until, as he always did, he abruptly wrenched his speed upward.
The pupils that had returned to ordinary color after releasing Rapid Arthema now burned gold. The enemy's movements slowed to a crawl. Roy slipped cleanly into the opening and swung.
—Chwaak!
The vicious red mana coiled around the Aura Blade carved deep into David's thigh. Blood sprayed across the floor in sheets.
"Gyaaaaah!"
First wound of that caliber, perhaps. Even the newborn-like scream left Roy unmoved. He gave no time to recover—second strike, third, fourth.
—Chwaak! —Chok!
David's body was carved apart in heartbeats.
—Kung!
He crashed to the floor, convulsed once, then went still.
Hoo... hoo... Mana's starting to...
Needle, side still gushing, clutched the wound with both hands and glared. Then—
"......!?"
The sword slipped from his fingers and clattered to the ground.
"I... surrender."
"...Who said surrender would buy you your life?"
"What!? In war, sparing those who yield is the proper way, is it not?"
"How is this a war? You came to kidnap me of your own free will."
Roy closed the distance without hurry and set his blade against Needle's throat. The man squeezed his eyes shut in resignation.
Ah... so this is how I die...
"However—if you answer my questions, I might consider letting you live."
"...Anything. Ask."
"Then tell me this: does your household possess something called Dragon's Breath?"
"...What?"
Roy traded words with Needle for a while longer. Nothing of real value came of it. A moment later:
"Farewell, then."
—Chwaak!
The severed head tumbled across the floor, rolled, and finally came to rest.
"Haa... Now how am I supposed to clean all this up...?"
The fight was finished. Mercifully, his mana had not failed him first.
"Ugh... S-spare me..."
"C-cold... Mom... it's so cold..."
The mercenaries still clinging to life on the floor. Roy finished every last one of them.
One seems to be missing.
He did not know the name, yet the man called Giyan was nowhere in sight. Most likely the fellow had slipped out of the institute while Roy was busy with the knights. Roy sprinted outside.
Watchers still waited beyond the walls.
Not a single one walks away.
Revenge had to be thorough—so thorough they would never dare target him again.
"Pa-Padec..."
"It's Branch Leader to you."
"Branch Leader... p-please spare me..."
Giyan had barely escaped into the open; the sight that greeted him defied belief. The five men he had posted on watch lay beheaded in a neat row. Padec himself stood over them, a handful of other mercenaries at his back.
"Looks like I needn't have bothered coming."
"B-Branch Leader, it's a misunderstanding! I was only threatened by those Isco dogs—"
—Thunk.
Giyan never finished the sentence. Padec's blade had already taken his head in a single clean stroke. The branch leader had arrived fully aware of how the situation stood. Mercy was a luxury he could not afford.
"Leave the bodies. Everyone follow me inside."
"Someone else is coming out!"
Padec leveled his sword toward the entrance, face tight with tension.
"Huh? Ah—you've arrived."
"R-Roy Young Master! Thank the heavens you're unharmed."
"Hehe. Seems my gamble paid off."
A soft crimson radiance—far beyond anything a low-grade magic weapon could produce—was seeping from the blade in Padec's hand.
Barely a few dozen minutes earlier, Roy had slipped Marek onto the Amin Merchant Group's wagons as they left the institute loaded with military-issue weapons.
"Marek, listen carefully. There may be people trying to break into the institute today. Hide yourself in one of the Amin carriages, get clear of this place, and take this letter and the magic-imbued weapons to Padec. Do not enter the mercenary compound yourself—have someone else call him outside and hand everything over."
"Understood. But invaders... will you be all right, Young Master?"
"Me? Do you think they'll be stronger than an ogre?"
"......"
"Worry about yourself more than me, Marek."
"Yes. I'll do exactly as you say."
And so the letter and the weapons reached Padec: one mid-grade magic-imbued blade and five low-grade ones. The letter itself read:
This is Roy. As a token of my trust in you, I am lending you these magic-imbued weapons. One in particular is of the highest grade—something I have never sold even to His Majesty the King. Gather those within the mercenary group who follow you and strike the backs of the people targeting me. Whether you use the weapons as bait to lure more men or handle it some other way, I leave the method to your judgment. If even that proves beyond you... well. I will place my faith in you regardless. Betrayal means only death.
That was how Padec had come to stand before Roy's research institute.
"How were the weapons?"
"...Insane. An entirely different level from anything I used before."
"Naturally. One was made with orc blood, the other with ogre blood."
"Is it wise to speak so freely of the materials?"
"What of it? Anyone who matters already knows. Investigate the shipments coming in here and the truth is plain."
"I see."
"Knowing the materials doesn't let them make the weapons. That's what makes me impressive, isn't it?"
"......"
Roy flashed a bright grin, then scratched his head, a little sheepish.
"You're rather short on humor."
"My apologies."
Roy let out a long sigh at the man who felt obliged to apologize for a joke.