Dragon's Breath (4)
After emerging from the basement, Ibaldo used the emergency potions stored in the mansion to administer first aid to Ana and Geren.
The potions were precious items that normally required the master's permission before use, but with Ana as the recipient, there was no reason to hesitate. Geren, too, had been wounded defending the mansion, so Ibaldo used them without restraint.
It was the right decision. Had he shown even a hint of thrift in a situation like this, word would have spread among the other servants in no time, and that would only have stained the baron's reputation. Recruiting new staff afterward would have become far more difficult—and the people of the territory might well have turned against him.
Before long, members of the city guard began arriving at the mansion one after another. Close on their heels came several priests from the temple, riding hard. Ordinarily they traveled alone, but because this was the lord's mansion, every priest on standby had been dispatched.
Having spent a full five years apprenticed under the chief butler, Marek had the presence of mind to head straight for the temple after reporting the situation to the guard, rather than returning to the mansion. Thanks to that, the priests arrived sooner than expected.
But the crisis was still too urgent for praise.
"Priest! This way!"
The priests made for the wounded at once and began chanting their distinctive holy magic. It was an incantation that took nearly as long as when Roy crafted his amulets. Healing magic did not instantly restore someone on the brink of death. Anyone whose holy magic had reached that level would surely be called a saintess or a high priest.
"Hah... Thankfully, treatment of the wounds is complete. It was a blessing that you administered potions. Still, it will take considerable time before they regain consciousness and fully recover their strength."
A young female priest spoke while wiping the beads of sweat from her brow. She looked thoroughly spent, as if she had poured out every last drop of her mana.
"The treatment here is finished as well. But the wounds were so deep that whether he'll regain consciousness..."
"Thank you, Priests. You lot—go boil water at once. We'll step outside. Clean the blood from the Madam and carry her to her bed. Move Lord Geren to the room he was originally staying in."
"Yes. We'll do so."
At least now they no longer had to fear that the baron's wife or Geren might die. In Geren's case, however—with wounds that deep and blood loss that severe—there was no telling how long recovery would take.
"Search every inch! Don't miss even a single ant!"
The city guard and the Greenhilt household staff worked through the night, scouring not only the mansion but the grounds beyond the walls. They had to find the vanished giant of a masked man, the deputy butler Boodle, and the mansion guards who had been on duty and had simply disappeared. Above all, they urgently needed to find the baron's youngest son, of whom there was no trace at all.
—Tweet!
At the sound of a guard's whistle, everyone nearby rushed toward the source of the signal.
"How could this..."
"Those damn bastards."
"That kid had only just gotten married..."
The corpse of the night-duty mansion guard had been discovered. Looking at that sight, the young agents of the city guard could not help recalling words from their seniors they had once dismissed.
It might feel easy most of the time, but when real trouble hits, standing guard at the lord's mansion is a job where your life hangs in the balance.
Somewhere, someone swallowed dryly. For a while, at least, recruiting for the lord's mansion guard would not be easy.
"We'll deal with the body later. Finding the young master comes first! Hurry!"
Dozens of people searched high and low through the night. They found him nowhere. A criminal would have fled for his life—but the problem was a boy barely five years old. And not just any boy: the lord's youngest son, carrying the blood of the Greenhilt line.
So the moment dawn broke the next day, the city guard went on full alert. A massive search began—not only around the lord's mansion, but across the entire city.
Given the situation, the people of the territory watching all this found it deeply suspicious, and eventually every detail of what had happened at the mansion spread far and wide. The rumor raced through the Greenhilt territory as a matter of course, and through the surrounding lands just as quickly. Even the greatest territory of the south, the Biswald Margraviate, was no exception.
And now that news reached the ears of Baron Cliv Greenhilt, who was away there on business. Of course, since Chief Butler Ibaldo had urgently sent a messenger bird summoning him back from the Biswald Margraviate, the report would have reached the baron soon enough even without the rumors.
His heart pounded with wild anticipation, driving blood through every vein. Roy closed his eyes tightly, spread both hands before him, and sent a fine stream of mana flowing from his fingertips. Then he slowly began to chant the spell.
I don't know what nasty thing might come out—but this is exciting.
Ordinarily, one was supposed to know what kind of spirit one was summoning. But the summoning spell Roy was using was completely shrouded in mystery. There wasn't even a hint of elemental affinity in the chant itself, so he had no idea what would appear. Other than the fact that it was magic for calling a spirit, it was a complete unknown.
Rather than a summoning spell, it's more like... opening a door. No—magic that releases some kind of seal.
The mana flowing from his fingertips began to draw patterns in the air in time with the words of the spell. The drawings soon became a single pattern, and the pattern soon became a phenomenon. A cool wind stirred through the sealed underground chamber, and moments later a thin crack began to form in the empty air.
"......!"
Then the crack became a gap, and the gap began to suck in every last scrap of light from the activated magic. Beyond it, a space of pitch darkness deeper and blacker than the gloom of the underground chamber revealed itself. The gap slowly widened, expanding in size—and to Roy, it looked as if the very boundary between dimensions was crumbling away.
The manifested magic continued to drain Roy's mana. Thanks to that, the gap quickly grew large enough to be called a hole.
How much more does it plan to take?!
As the hole expanded, the amount of mana being drained increased dramatically as well. If he lost focus for even a moment, he felt as if all his mana would be stolen away beyond that unknown hole.
—Shuuuuu.
He was nearing his limit. Roy was so exhausted he felt he might collapse at any second. But the smile on his face showed no sign of fading. Even though the spell was complete, the black hole formed in the air was still holding its shape.
"Come on! Come out!"
It was surely no ordinary spirit of the four major elements. An ancient magic created thousands—or tens of thousands—of years ago. What kind of monster would come bursting out? He held great expectations.
"I said come out!"
Something was wrong. There was no response at all. Surely something should have come leaping out of that hole. Instead, the hole even seemed to be slowly shrinking.
"Damn it!"
Panicking, Roy tried to shove his head and arm into the hole in the air. Whoever was inside, he intended to drag them out by force if necessary.
"Come out! Come ouuut!"
But no matter how far he pushed his head in, it was pitch dark and he could see nothing, and waving his hand around inside caught on nothing at all.
"Damn that Hero bastard. What the hell did he bring back? If you're not coming out, at least spit back the mana you stole!"
The gap in the air had already shrunk to nearly half its size. At this point, Roy wore a hollow expression, almost ready to give up.
But then—
"Aaaagh—!"
Roy tumbled backward in shock. From beyond the hole—now reduced to about the size of an adult man's head—someone was blinking their eyes. In all his life, Roy had never been this startled.
"Was it you who called me."
"Th-that's right."
"How?"
"What do you mean how... I just used a magic I remembered."
"A little kid like you? You're human, aren't you?"
The voice that reached him was that of a girl full of curiosity. But the eyes visible beyond the boundary were unmistakably those of a massive golden-eyed monster.
"I am human. And what exactly are you? I'm definitely the one who summoned you. I don't know what you are, but how about making a contract with me right now."
This was the first time Roy had ever used summoning magic, in this life or his previous one. He had understood that after summoning a spirit, one formed a contract with mana as the price—but the current situation left him thoroughly bewildered. He couldn't understand what that golden-eyed monster really was, whether it was even a spirit, or why it wouldn't come out in front of him.
"I'm sorry, little one. You're far too young and weak to form a contract with me."
"Isn't a contract made with mana as the price? What does age have to do with it?"
If you include my past life, I've lived more than sixty years in this world, you damn spirit bitch.
"Heh. Grow up a little more, little one."
"I already paid with all my mana to summon you!"
"Don't throw a tantrum. I'll give you credit for calling me forth. But to be precise, you didn't summon me—you merely opened a tiny hole here. With a hole this small, nothing can be done. You want to contract with me? For that you'd need far more mana. At least four times what you have now—no, five times."
"That's absolutely impossible. I've already drunk Dragon's Breath. I'm still young so there's room to grow, but not four or five times!"
The golden eyes swept over Roy's entire body once more.
"No, it's not impossible. The same thing wouldn't work, but if you drank something else, wouldn't that do it? Then you'd grow stronger, little one. I'll be waiting."
"What does that mean? Don't tell me—are you saying there are multiple kinds of Dragon's Breath?"
"Huhuhoo."
The eyes merely laughed. They offered no further explanation.