Chapter 32
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 32
The high-level, dual-cast spells: <Black Extermination> and <White Extermination>.
If one were to list the most straightforwardly named spells, these two would undoubtedly be at the top. They were more than worthy of the name "extermination." Amer, at least, had never seen a living creature survive a direct hit. A triumphant smirk spread across her face, certain of her victory. Casting aside her last shred of feigned composure, she was consumed by manic delight.
She thrilled at the power that, however conditional, could overwhelm even a ‘Sage.’
“Ah… Ahahaha! Perfect! This is perfect!”
And these two spells were not the end. The mana overflowing within the Magic Tower would not be exhausted by casting a mere three high-level spells. It was time for a festival. That foolish woman—no, that foolish monster—would be blasted apart by dozens of spells, reduced to a gruesome, unrecognizable pulp.
“This is what happens when a mere monster tries to act human~”
Amer giggled. The two extermination spells were nearly complete. Concentrating on the casting, she tilted her head slightly to track Rene’s movements.
Suddenly, a chill so sharp it felt like a noose tightening around her neck made Amer let out an involuntary gasp.
“Huh?”
Rene was there, close enough for Amer to feel her breath.
—When did she get here?
Squelch. The sound of slicing flesh answered her unspoken question. Both of Amer’s wrists were severed, flying into the air. A moment later, they landed at her feet with a wet thud.
First came the icy sensation of blood draining away, followed by a wave of agony so intense it was nearly impossible to endure while conscious.
“Agh, hack, what…? It hurts, it hurts, ah? Ah… Aaaaaagh…!”
The two nearly-finished extermination spells dissipated into fine particles and scattered in all directions. Amer collapsed, rolling on the floor as her severed wrists throbbed and gushed blood.
“Aaaaaah… Aaaaaaaaah!”
The screaming grew louder. Rene furrowed her brow. Watching Amer shriek at the top of her lungs, all dignity abandoned, she thought the woman looked no different from a pig being slaughtered.
“Shut up,” Rene muttered, bringing the heel of her boot down on the ‘pig.’ One scream was cut off by another.
Only after stomping on her for some time did Rene pull her foot away, breathing heavily. She was in no better state herself, her entire body drenched in blood.
Countless fragments of the <Lance of Longinus> were embedded in her small frame.
She could have created an opening in the rain of shards if she had tried, but seeking safety would have inevitably dragged out the fight. Rene’s stamina was already nearing its limit, and she was almost out of blades.
That was why she had taken the hits without dodging.
It was the far more dangerous choice. Even as small fragments, the <Lance of Longinus> was a high-level spell, and the power of each shard exceeded that of a mediocre intermediate spell. It was not an attack one could simply endure.
If she had lacked even a shred of willpower, her dagger would have never reached Amer.
“It hurts. My arms. My arms. My arms. It hurts. What happened. What. It hurts. Ah? It hurts. My arms. Where. Ah. Ahhh. Ahhhhhh. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. IT HURTS! Save me. Save me… someone…”
Few things are as weak as a mage who cannot use magic. Having lost both hands—her entire world as a mage—Amer lost her mind and shrieked. She was a wretched sight, like a person writhing under a curse or a fish flopping on the ground as it slowly suffocated.
Amer tried to cover her face with her hands, only to cry out in pain again as she smeared more blood across it. She writhed on the floor, broken so completely it was hard to believe she was the same arrogant, composed woman from moments before. Her blood stained the floor of the Magic Tower a deeper shade of red.
“All this over a couple of severed hands.”
Thud. Crunch. Crunch.
As if unsatisfied, Rene muttered under her breath, continuing to stomp on the writhing Amer.
“Stop making such a fuss.”
The emotion flickering through her restrained expression was unmistakable rage.
Some time passed before Amer, who had been gasping for air, regained a semblance of composure. It was a calmness born from a mind growing hazy with massive blood loss.
“I don’t… want to die… Ha. Haha. I have… so much mana… left… I have to… live…”
—How pathetic.
The way she used her elbows to drag herself across the floor toward the stairs was like a panicked animal.
Pathetic. This is your true self.
Rene thought to herself. Keep struggling. Yes, ending her life now would be an undeserved mercy. She has no chance of survival anyway. She’s already losing her mind from blood loss. Let her fall down the stairs, floor by floor, trying to escape. Let her spill blood with every step, dying as the faint hope of ‘just a little further’ slowly flickers out. That would be the best end for her.
Her own strength failing, Rene slumped to the floor.
“…”
It was over.
—I’m not happy at all.
“…I’ve erased the footsteps.”
Rene whispered to herself. Then she asked herself: I’ve erased them. Miss Bathory, I’ve erased them just as you said. Now, what should Rene do? What is left for Rene?
“…Ha.”
She let out a hollow laugh.
Her wounds throbbed so intensely it was difficult to even stay upright. Her right eye ached. Rene leaned her body against a pillar for support.
—I’m tired.
She let her body go limp, her consciousness gradually fading. Listening to Amer’s distant screams, she slowly closed her eyes.
It felt as though if she fell asleep now, she might never wake up.
* * *
After drifting on the edge of consciousness for some time, she heard footsteps.
At the faint presence, Rene forced her eyelids open.
The presence and the sound grew louder; someone was approaching. Rene focused her senses. Judging by the lack of magical energy, it was a human. Amer must have sensed it too, as her screaming stopped.
Rene silently reached for her thigh. Fiddling with her cat-themed garter, she pulled out her last remaining blade. The sensation of cold metal against her skin vanished completely. This was her final weapon.
“…Leader?”
A tense silence was broken by an unfamiliar male voice.
Clatter. The man dropped the staff he was holding.
The metal rod hit the floor with a loud ring. Rene narrowed her eyes, glaring at the man. Her right eye had likely lost its function completely, as her vision was blurry. Even so, his messy green hair stood out clearly.
The green-haired man, judging by his use of the word ‘Leader’ and the staff he carried, was likely a trainee from this Magic Tower.
The only strange thing was his remarkable calm. He seemed to have come prepared for this situation. He must have passed the corpses of his comrades on his way up to the seventh floor, meaning he had anticipated what he would find.
“Leader! What happened! Your, your wrists…!”
“…Haim…?”
“…Yes, it’s Haim. It’s me, Leader. What on earth happened…?”
The man called Haim trailed off. Amer, trembling, managed to lift an arm. Her severed wrist pointed toward Rene. Haim stared at Rene, who was leaning against the pillar, for a few seconds.
“You’re the one from back then…”
Rene didn’t answer, simply glaring at him. Haim said nothing more. The moment their eyes met, his jumbled theories snapped into a clear picture. Having assessed the situation, he turned back to Amer.
“Leader, can you hold on?”
“Haim, it hurts… it hurts, hurry… ugh, gasp, save… me, my wrists, my wrists, my wrists…”
“Calm down, you’ve lost too much blood.”
“That bitch, kill… that bitch…”
“Leader, pull yourself together and listen to me carefully.”
Urgency colored his voice. After getting Amer’s attention, Haim pulled something from his robe.
“Can you see what this is?”
He must have held it right in front of her face, but Amer just shook her head. Whether her sight was failing as death approached, she simply kept shaking her head as Haim waved the object back and forth.
“…What… is it…?”
“It’s a mana stone embedded with a high-level escape spell. With this, we can get out of here. However, my mana is too low to activate it. You have to pour your mana into it, Leader.”
“That… what…?”
“There’s no time for a detailed explanation! Escaping is the priority. There’s no way I can defeat an opponent that even you couldn’t beat. First, let’s live. You have to live to get your revenge, right?”
With that, he placed the object in Amer’s lap.
After a moment’s hesitation, Amer nodded slowly. While casting was impossible without wrists, she could at least pour mana into something. She slowly channeled her magic into the object Haim had given her, as if pouring out her remaining life force. It was the last straw for Graumitz Amer to grasp.
Rene simply watched.
She didn’t have the strength to stop them, nor did she fully understand what was happening.
But even before all that, Rene was certain of one thing.
That man, Haim…
—He is absolutely not on Amer’s side.
Contrary to his urgent tone, his expression held not a trace of concern. The look he gave Rene wasn’t hostility, but delight. And after realizing Amer’s vision was failing, he had begun to smile openly. As he made his pleading proposal, he was actively stifling a laugh.
Above all, there was the mana stone he had handed her. Upon seeing it, Rene covered her mouth. A wave of nausea surged through her, but with nothing in her stomach, only bile came up.
—There’s no way that’s a ‘mana stone with a high-level escape spell.’
How could she ever forget? Inside that leaden-colored mana stone was the shape of a small, wriggling fetus—the same shape that had been inside the ‘Red Love Stone.’
How could she ever forget?
“…Demon.”
“Wh-what? Gulp, urgh. Cough… ack.”
As Rene muttered the word, Amer vomited.
What she spat out was a dark red clot of blood.
“Huh…? What… is…?”
The bloody cough was the signal. The erosion began.
Black mana leaked from the mana stone, piercing through Amer’s body. Through her nose, mouth, and even her eyes, the black mist seeped in, making her body convulse. She vomited blood endlessly, as if it were being squeezed from her very cells.
“…Haim?”
As soon as she voiced her question, Amer’s pupils spun wildly. As if her clouded vision couldn’t even find the man right in front of her, her eyes pointed in different directions.
Finally, through blood-stained lips, she forced out a faltering question.
“…You… could it be…?”
“You look like you’re in pain. Ah, well, you’re going to die soon anyway, so I suppose it’s fine to tell you the truth, right? I’ll take this chance to formally greet Miss Ren over there, too. I’ll tell you the secret I’ve been hiding all this time.”
“Ah? Ahhhhh. Gasp, it hurts. Ah, aagh. It hurts, ack, Haim. What, why, ah, AAAAAAAAAAGH!”
He laughed. Haim laughed, and there wasn’t a shred of pretense in it. To him, Amer’s screams were music. He turned his gaze to Rene.
“Haim Saryuebel, a pitiful trainee responsible for attending to our leader, Miss Amer… or rather, a spy pretending to be one.”
Before he even finished his sentence, Amer’s neck twisted halfway around. Watching her die with the same detached interest one might give a street performer, Haim added:
“Miss Amer made too many enemies. Why else would the Graumitz main house send a spy to watch over their ‘beloved’ young lady? Why else would they give me secret orders to eliminate her the moment she showed any suspicious signs? Why else would Miss Ren, whose deal was already over, come all this way for revenge? Don’t you agree?”
The sound of bones snapping filled the air. The noise of Amer’s skeleton grinding and rearranging—crack, crunch, snap—was loud enough to almost drown out Haim’s voice.
“…Where is Guillotine’s Tooth?” Rene asked in a low voice, watching the horrific scene.
Haim glanced at Amer’s body. Twisted completely like a wrung-out rag, it didn’t look like it had a single drop of blood left in it. The floor was soaked red. Slumped in a grotesque posture and silent, she was clearly dead. Haim sighed.
“Guillotine’s Tooth was sent to Riaze for auction. Having a weapon like that in the Magic Tower is utterly useless. It’s much more profitable to use the money from its sale to bolster our forces elsewhere.”
“…”
“Anyway, I’m grateful to you, Miss Ren. You did my job for me, so I’d like to repay you… but business is business. If we just part ways like this, you might come after me next time, right?”
If a situation had arisen where Haim had to eliminate Amer, he would have used assassination.
There was a reason for that. Amer was not an opponent he could defeat in a direct confrontation.
And yet, this silver-haired girl had carved off Amer’s wrists. Judging by the clean, smooth cross-sections, she must have taken them in a single strike.