Rescue the Boss (6)

The message I'd seen countless times since borrowing Lucy's body.

The message that had threatened my life every single time it appeared.

The message that had left me with more traumas than I could count.

If this were any other time, I would have bitten my lip the moment it showed up. I'd have railed against the useless Chief God's incompetence while desperately racking my brain, agonizing over how to flail my way to survival no matter what it took.

But not now. I knew, with absolute certainty, that no variable — not a single one — could lay a scratch on me anymore. That certainty was exactly why I could stand tall.

Why I could meet Karia's lifeless eyes dead-on.

Hey. You petty little evil god. You jumped the gun, didn't you?

You knew that if this party came back at full strength, you'd have no chance of winning — so you went for a sneak attack instead.

Am I right?

You engineered this whole situation on the off chance it might actually kill us.

But guess what?

A variable this pathetic isn't nearly enough to break this party.

Puhahaha. Well, I suppose a bottom-feeder who got curb-stomped by the incompetent Chief God and sealed away couldn't possibly be anything less pathetic than that, could you?

"Long time no see, Karia! Keeping well?!"

Benedict's shout was loud enough to rattle the entire corridor, but Karia didn't so much as flinch.

She only stared back at me with frigid, calculating eyes.

Her intention was obvious.

What she was after wasn't victory. It was capturing and killing me — the Apostle of Armadi.

Ah-ha. You know you can't win, so at the very least, you want to spit in the eye of the revolting Chief God you despise so much, is that it?

Pfft. Honestly, it's so pathetic it actually loops back around to funny.

Why is it that gods — Chief Gods, Evil Gods, all of them — are uniformly so incompetent?

You'd think with the word 'god' attached to their name, they'd show us something at least a little impressive.

Yeah right. As if. You absolute moron.

"Executing the plan as discussed."

It was Johann who signaled the start of the battle.

The instant he laid his hand upon the cross, an overwhelming tide of divinity erupted from where he stood, threatening to swallow the entire corridor.

The warmth of Armadi's divinity displaced the sweltering heat of Menesteil, carving out a bounded zone in its wake.

A sanctuary where God once dwelt.

One of the highest-tier holy magics — a field spell that simultaneously inflicted debuffs upon profane beings while blessing our entire party.

Karia saw it and sensed something was wrong, scrambling backward in a panic — but it was already far too late.

Because in that window, the Count had already unleashed his magic.

Like a conductor standing at the heart of an orchestra, he swept his hand through the air, and dozens of magic circles bloomed into existence around him.

Circles of every shape and color, each with its own distinct flow of mana.

High-tier spells of a caliber that I, hopeless layman that I am, couldn't have controlled even one of them.

Haha. They're exactly as they were in-game — the sight that made players rage-quit and curse at their screens.

It began with a prison of pure mana.

Walls materialized without a flicker of warning, sealing Karia inside.

But they couldn't withstand her strength.

Not even a second passed before Karia shattered the walls with her dagger.

But the Count's repertoire didn't end there.

The ground — searing hot as boiling magma — froze over in an instant, locking Karia's feet in place.

Unruffled, she smashed the ice and leapt skyward — but by then another of the Count's spells had already caught her.

A rope that siphoned away mana.

Vines that grew endlessly, chasing her down.

A mist steeped in curses.

Karia, who had been tracking the Count with her eyes alone, quietly lowered her dagger.

Her figure vanished.

If you can't parry it, dodge it — and counterattack in the same breath.

A choice only someone with supersonic speed like Karia could make.

But Benedict, standing between her and me, was no pushover who'd simply let that happen.

The moment Benedict drove his fist into empty air, Karia materialized right in front of it, as if they had rehearsed the timing together.

A heartbeat later, Karia's body went flying like a bullet from Benedict's blow, slamming into a wall of pure divinity.

The wall looked flimsy enough to shatter at a touch, but its true nature was divinity compressed to its absolute limit.

To an Apostle of an Evil God, it might as well have been the flames of hell itself.

"Nnngghh!"

Smoke began rising from Karia's body where it touched the wall.

Wrenching herself free of the pain, she flipped her dagger into a reverse grip.

Her gaze was fixed on the space behind me.

The spot where Johann had, at some point, begun reciting the Prayer of Purification.

Excuse me, Boss Lady? Could you kindly not tunnel-vision on the healer?

"Never-married old maid ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠♡ Since going *down* is off the table, now you're checking what's up above?♡ Look over there♡ Even that decrepit old fossil has eyes, you know — no way he'd ever look at an ugly hag like you ♡"

The target you're aiming for is that one person, and that's plenty.

After all, it makes your movement route so much easier to predict.

Karia's figure vanished, and in the same instant, Iron Wall screamed a warning of danger.

But I didn't move.

Because Benedict's hand had moved even faster.

He spread his palm wide, and Karia's face slammed into it as if her head had been sucked in by a magnet.

"You've been slacking on your training! You've gotten slow!"

The moment Benedict clenched his grip, a sound no human body should ever produce rang out through the corridor.

And that was when it happened.

Flames bloomed outward from Karia's chest, and her entire body transformed into living fire.

One of the authorities held by the Evil God of Fire.

The instant Karia — now untouchable by hand — slipped free of Benedict's grip, the vines that had been lying in wait across the floor seized her legs, as if they'd been biding their ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠time for exactly this moment.

A vine meeting Karia the living flame should have burned to ash on the spot — that would be the normal outcome — but instead it grew at a pace rivaling the fire itself, snarling her movements.

Hot on its heels, a rope of solid mana wrapped around Karia's arms and neck, pinning her in place.

And Benedict, standing before her, loaded his fist like a chambered round.

"Clench your teeth. So that you don't die."

The mana coursing through Benedict's body converged into his fist.

That wasn't even his full power.

But when your mana is a vast ocean by any measure, even a fraction of it is hardly a small thing.

The instant Benedict threw the punch, his mana erupted outward, flaring with a presence all its own.

With a deafening crack loud enough to scar the ears, the entire dungeon shook.

'...Grandpa. Karia's still alive, right?'

<You're the one who drafted this strategy. What have you got to be nervous about?>

Halbae was right — I was the one who came up with this plan.

The moment we made contact with Karia, trap her inside the sanctuary where God once dwelt.

Then bind her with the Count's spells.

Subdue her with Benedict's raw strength.

And once she was unconscious, have Johann purify her.

If Karia's attack patterns were, as I believed, simply an enhanced version of the game's, then this was the optimal play. I'd divvied up the roles and walked everyone through how to respond to each of her moves.

And as a result, we'd subdued Karia with almost laughable ease, but...

'No matter how tough Karia is, I don't think she's walking off a punch like that unscathed.'

Benedict's fists were far more vicious than I'd accounted for.

She seems to be breathing, at least...

She'll be fine, right? This isn't going to end in some permanent-vegetative-state bad ending, is it?

It's the world of Soul Academy, so I suppose there'd be some way to fix it even if it did.

<Instead of fretting over her, carve the holy magic the Bishop is weaving into your eyes. That man's abilities are well worth observing and learning from.>

'Yes, sir.'

"The Chief God loves even those who have strayed from His path. May His grace reach even you."

The moment Bishop Johann completed his prayer, the divinity he had spread to unfurl his sanctuary gathered at a single point — around Karia.

This was different from the Requiem Prayer Phoebe had performed.

Not a spell to grant the dead peace, but one to erase profanity itself.

"KRRRRAAAAAAAGH!"

Black smoke billowed from Karia's body as a scream tore out of her.

A voice so drenched in agony that merely hearing it raised the hair on my arms.

Purification in reality was nothing like purification in the game.

Of course it wasn't.

Erasing profane corruption was never going to be a light enough matter to pass with a single cutscene.

Focus, me. Now's not the time to be standing around gawking either.

While Johann works the purification, I need to prepare the finisher.

To completely strip every trace of the Evil God's influence from her body —

...Huh?

<What—?>

Along with Halbae's single strangled syllable, the ground shook.

This was nothing like the shockwave Benedict's fist had produced moments before.

It felt as if something colossal was stirring beneath the earth itself.

"Lucy!"

Had he sensed the danger instinctively?

Benedict sprinted over and pulled me into his arms.

Johann had already halted the Prayer of Purification and was casting protective holy magic instead, while the Count had unfurled dozens of magic circles, ready to answer absolutely anything that might happen next.

And then it came.

The floor split apart, and heat bloomed up through the fissure.

This wasn't heat you could describe with words like 'warm' or 'hot.'

An overwhelming flame that would reduce your entire body to ash from the fingertips down the instant you touched it.

Nobody had to tell me. I knew exactly what that fire was.

I couldn't have not known.

There were only two beings in this entire world capable of whipping up a blaze like this.

And in this dungeon, only one of them.

The voice thundered through every corner of the dungeon as the floor collapsed beneath us.

Falling while cradled in Benedict's arms, I looked down.

White flames seeping through a crimson wall, cracked ever so slightly.

A presence that dominated the entire chamber despite its incomplete form.

A thick, lingering, deeply unsettling smile aimed at me.

And eyes that were utterly, hollowly black.

Vahda.

The Evil God of Fire.

He had shattered his seal and manifested — partially, but unmistakably.

Come to think of it, it made sense.

Agra is petty, but he never hides himself.

Whenever he plots something, he always announces his own name — practically demanding you curse him for it.

But throughout this whole dungeon, he'd been eerily quiet. Even so, I'd been put through the wringer more than once.

I'd assumed he'd simply changed his methods.

Wrong. It was simple, really.

The party coming after me had changed — so naturally, the methods changed with it.

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠get it now.

Why that useless Chief God brought up Menesteil before the first semester had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠even ended.

Why he dragged this out now, when there should have been far more time left before it happened.

The one attacking this dungeon's seal was Karia.

She's grown stronger than her game counterpart, so of course the seal would unravel faster than it did in-game.

Armadi genuinely was in a desperate hurry. That's why he'd called me here.

Ha. Fuck. You worthless, incompetent excuse for a Chief God.

Explain things properly for once, you bastard.

You were so quick with the tongue-tied mockery when you were teasing me — why do you suddenly clam up like some dignified god when it actually matters?!

Shouldn't it be the other way around?!

Huh?!

...Huh?

What?!

Hey! You useless Chief God!

What is that supposed to—