The Path They Walked (3)
Maxim caught Adeline as she lost consciousness and collapsed. When he struck the side of her neck with a chopping hand, she offered no resistance. She must have decided to trust his words after all. Maxim retrieved her sword, then lifted her into his arms. His shoulder and right arm trembled faintly, but he deliberately ignored the sensation and turned his head to the side.
"Stop watching and come out. I don't know how long you've been there, but it's time."
From the mouth of the alley, a red-haired man appeared with both hands raised in surrender. He seemed unremarkable at first glance, yet Maxim spotted the lily emblem pinned to his chest. The vice commander of the Royal Guard Knights. His name was Aaron, if memory served. The fact that Maxim had failed to detect his presence until now proved the man possessed skills worthy of his rank.
"How long? From the beginning. I came on His Majesty's orders to support you in secret."
"...Then you might have helped during the fight."
Aaron shrugged with a shameless expression. "From the conversation between you and that young lady you were facing, it didn't seem like my place to interfere. I planned to step in if things turned truly dangerous, but it never came to that."
Since Aaron's reasoning was sound, Maxim stopped grumbling.
"In the end, I'm left cleaning up the mess. Damn it. His Majesty can be so cold-hearted."
Aaron crossed his arms with a mutter and fixed his gaze on Maxim. When he noticed the person cradled in Maxim's arms, his face twisted into a frown.
"His Majesty only ordered me to follow and support you. But judging by the current situation, it looks like I have another task to handle."
Maxim nodded. Even though Aaron had ended up granting a favor to a far junior knight, he didn't seem genuinely resentful.
"Could you take her to a safe place within the palace?"
"Does this request you made to His Majesty involve this knight from the Benning faction?"
Maxim nodded again. Aaron exhaled a thoughtful hum, curiosity flickering in his eyes, though he made no effort to pry further.
"Understood. If it's a request His Majesty chose to grant, I won't ask more. Of course, if your request threatens the royal family or His Majesty's safety..."
Aaron's eyebrow twitched, as if to say, You know what happens then, don't you?
Maxim nodded and passed Adeline into Aaron's arms. Aaron accepted her, then studied Maxim closely. Maxim met his gaze with a questioning look.
"You mentioned you have separate business now. I heard from His Majesty. It seems the task I was meant to assist with is what you're about to undertake. Rescuing a comrade, was it?"
Maxim gave a heavy nod.
"Yes. Following the sewers will lead to the path connected to the mage's dungeon. I intend to rescue my comrade trapped in its depths."
"...I see."
Aaron's eyes drifted to Maxim's shoulder. Even now, the right arm trembled. The joint was clearly strained, muscles torn. The bone might even be fractured.
"When you faced that knight, you forced yourself to stop the final attack."
Maxim neither confirmed nor denied it. That last thrust toward Adeline—the arm that had wrenched itself to a halt rather than continue the flowing swordsmanship taught by the elf—had been half-ruined from within. He could still force it into use, but it was clearly unfit for sustained combat.
"Your right arm was destroyed in that moment. The internal shock must have been considerable as well."
There was no point pretending otherwise. A man of Aaron's position could not be deceived by lies.
"Do you truly believe you can rescue your comrade from a black mage's dungeon in that broken state?"
Maxim answered in a calm voice. "It's the path I chose. Success will prove it was possible."
"Such greed. It borders on arrogance. If you were my proper successor who had joined through normal channels, I'd beat some sense into you right here."
Aaron regarded Maxim with displeasure. The dark eyes Maxim displayed belonged to someone who had already been broken once. Aaron let out a long sigh. A will that had been shattered and reforged could not be broken by another.
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah. If His Majesty hadn't ordered me to keep you alive, I would have ignored you and walked away."
Aaron unbuckled the sword at his waist and tossed it to Maxim. Maxim caught it and looked at him in surprise.
"Your sword reached the end of its life in that last battle. Consider this a temporary loan."
"...Thank you."
"Don't die down there. I'll come help again, so don't even think about overdoing it. His Majesty's command was to value your life. You must not throw it away recklessly."
"I'll keep it in mind."
Maxim offered an awkward smile to Aaron, who continued glaring as if unconvinced. Aaron shook his head, then departed down the alley with Adeline.
Maxim stared at the spot where he had vanished for a moment. It would be fine. The trembling right arm should not be used outside of combat.
He tested the grip of the borrowed sword. As expected from a weapon wielded by the vice commander of the First Royal Guard, its balance felt entirely different from the first touch.
He circulated his mana. Centering on his heart, Maxim spread it evenly throughout his body, then gazed into the pit.
"Let's go."
With those words of self-encouragement, Maxim threw himself into the sewer.
The moment his body fully descended, the air around him transformed. The stench refused to grow familiar no matter how often he encountered it. Yet Maxim walked the sewer path without so much as a grimace.
Grrk. Grrk.
It sounded like the labored breathing of a wolf with a throat full of phlegm. The instant Maxim sensed their presence, he drew Aaron's sword.
With sunken eyes, he advanced, staring ahead. The moment he saw the scene before him, his teeth ground together.
These insane bastards. They truly went this far.
Three werewolf-like creatures born from black magic's byproducts were tearing apart what appeared to be a human. The rags caught in their fangs suggested an unlucky vagrant who had wandered into the sewers.
When Maxim revealed his presence, the wolves halted their feast. Ignorant eyes turned and locked onto him.
So they released monsters down here as well.
Maxim assumed a stance—not his usual right-handed form, but a left-handed one. At the sharp aura that scattered from him, the werewolves issued threatening growls.
Fearless, one contracted every muscle, preparing to leap. A small wind stirred around Maxim. The honed killing intent exploded the moment the werewolf kicked off the ground.
Its maw opened wide. Teeth embedded with human flesh glinted; a vivid red tongue lashed about. Maxim traced his sword path between those gaping jaws. The first werewolf died with its upper and lower jaw severed.
Grrroar!
Enraged by their comrade's death, the remaining werewolves growled low and charged together.
There was no time to hesitate. Maxim flowed into the next movement as smoothly as a sailboat riding a fair wind. He ducked beneath claws slicing overhead. The moment he evaded, his blade flew toward the creature's weaker lower body.
Drawing a line similar to the trajectory Adeline's sword had carved, Maxim's blade severed the hamstring. One werewolf collapsed forward.
"Next."
Teeth flashed. Maxim kicked off the wall, spinning backward to escape the maw. Its back now lay completely exposed. He reversed his grip with his left hand and wrapped his right around the pommel. The downward strike drove the blade precisely into the cervical spine.
Crack. The sound of shattering vertebrae rang out as strength fled the werewolf's body. Maxim wrenched the sword, carving the creature into chunks of meat. After finishing the one that could no longer stand on its severed hamstrings, he frowned and repeatedly clenched and unclenched his right hand.
It's fine.
Maxim pressed onward. The sewer's foul odor was now masked by the stench of corpses. He followed the scent as it grew stronger.
A section of wall in the sewer, exactly as he remembered. Just as in his memory, a massive hole gaped open. Without hesitation, Maxim stepped inside.
Greenish mucus caught the light, casting a dull, revolting glow. After two days, Maxim once again walked into the trap on his own two feet.
He passed through the long laboratory corridor and climbed the stairs again. Nothing obstructed him. The dungeon seemed to open its path solely for him.
After ascending the laboratory stairs, he reached a cavity containing three chambers. The stench within had grown overpowering. Shattered fragments of synthetic monsters lay rotting across the floor.
The stronger his awareness of death became, the deeper Maxim's consciousness sank.
At the entrance to the stairs on the right side of the cavity—the path leading to the dungeon's deepest level—Maxim exhaled. It was a breath meant to empty everything inside him.
He forgot the sensation in his right arm. He forgot what manner of monster might await below. The only thing that surfaced in his mind was one person's smile.
Maxim stepped into the depths of the stairs.
An arrow flew. Maxim swept it aside with a rough wave of his hand. With his next step, the stair beneath his foot glowed and emitted a sharp alarm.
The dungeon's atmosphere grew even more menacing. Shaking off the traps, Maxim kept his eyes fixed solely on the end and walked on.
It was far deeper than the stairs to the laboratory. After what felt like an eternity, he realized the faint light had appeared directly before him.
Grrk. Something exhaled. This time it was not merely three. The further down he descended, the clearer the sounds became.
Crunch. Grrrk. Growl. The stench of beasts rubbing against one another, the rot of corpses.
Maxim saw shadows cast upon the stair walls. Indistinct shapes writhed in the flickering firelight.
He turned his head forward to face the enemy.
Werewolves. Grasshopper-like things with hellhound heads attached. And that... it was probably best to simply call it a lump of flesh.
Monsters filled the floor, the walls, the space as wide as a small arena.
Suddenly, Maxim recalled falling to the bottom of No Man's Land with Theodora. He remembered when the world itself had transformed into a colossal murder weapon and tried to kill them both.
He had sworn never to leap into such hell again. Yet here he was, walking in of his own free will.
Aaron's sword hung loosely from Maxim's left hand. Sensing his aura was not particularly strong, the monsters began slowly tightening their encirclement.
Their piercing gazes and mechanical killing intent shredded his skin. Drool dripped from their mouths.
Vice Commander...! No, I suppose I should call him something else now.
Senior, doesn't swinging only your sword get boring?
As if his mind had drifted elsewhere, laughter burst from Maxim's lips while he stared at the ceiling. It was not the laugh of a madman, nor of someone who had given up. Maxim truly found the situation so absurd that he could not stop laughing.
After laughing until his shoulders shook, he steadied his twitching lips.
"I'm going through all this trouble to rescue you."
Grrk. Grrrk. Crunch.
The monsters' auras surged higher. Maxim kept his head tilted upward.
"So please."
His voice trailed off as he murmured, as though speaking to her.
"Just stay alive."
All at once, the monsters' jaws opened wide. Maxim tightened his left-handed grip on the sword. He would break through with full strength from the start. His heart pulsed, circulating mana.
The grasshopper monster that first thrust its maw forward was dismembered and hurled through the air.
Growl. A werewolf charged from below, unable to restrain itself. Maxim caught the attack on the flat of his blade and rose into the air.
In his eyes, the end of the chamber remained invisible. All he saw was hell, where monsters shoved their lumps of flesh forward.
The left hand alone won't be enough.
Before descent began, Maxim raised his right hand. Pain was irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was that it could still function.
Both hands settled on the hilt, and Maxim became the wind itself.
He traced the sword path with its tip. The feet following that path felt agonizingly slow. The monsters' cries grew distant. The sounds of his blade crushing their flesh faded along with them. The loudest sounds were his own breathing and the pounding of his heart.
On the cold floor, entrails scattered messily, releasing warm steam.
From behind. A demonic beast he had thought dead split into two separate creatures and lunged. He ripped away the hexaped crawling up his back. In that brief opening, an attack grazed him. From then on, wounds began accumulating across his body.
The word "salvation" is quite simple.
It was something Naira had once said.
Having lived for so long, I know how empty that word truly is.
He swung his sword. Another demonic beast was severed by the blade. More wounds appeared on Maxim's body. His right arm deteriorated further.
Salvation does not exist. It is merely an illusion of words. Do you believe you can be saved by truly saving others?
Master, I think you've asked the wrong question.
For the first time, Maxim denied his master's words. Naira seemed pleased by her disciple's attitude; a smile played on her lips.
Then?
Rather than asking whether I can be saved by saving others, shouldn't we first ask whether I can truly save them?
His master finally burst into laughter. It held joy at her disciple's growth and relief that he had not strayed onto the wrong path.
Then are you asking me because you believe you cannot save them?
...No.
Maxim shook his head. Even if that were true, I must do it.
The weight of a demonic beast settled on his shoulder. Dozens crushed down on one man. Maxim's knees did not buckle. The sword gripped tightly in both hands hummed lowly.
Whirlwind.
Maxim whispered the word.
It began as a gentle breeze. The wind coiled around him and grew. It devoured one demonic beast and swelled larger. A metallic screech that tore through space echoed throughout the chamber. The flesh of the monsters that had pounced on Maxim ripped apart and scattered.
Then why do you still hesitate?
Kwoooar! A lump of flesh appeared. Its maw was packed with teeth from some unknown beast.
Maxim was certain that beyond where they blocked lay the place where Christine slept.
Crack. Maxim stepped forward. The ground split beneath his stamping foot. His mana had reached its limit. The breathing technique his master taught him minimized consumption, yet the continuous battle had drained even that reserve.
What of it?
Tentacles from the lump of flesh pierced his body. Blood sprayed. Muscles tore. Organs ruptured. Yet Maxim's sword did not stop.
Vice Commander!
Come to think of it, Christine had always possessed a wide range of expressions. And Maxim himself, standing before her, had been able to match them. Most often they had been smiling faces. Occasionally, when she tended his wounds, a sad expression would surface—sometimes carrying such deep sorrow and guilt that it seemed strange. Yet Maxim had never asked.
Senior...
And only while dying in his arms had she finally revealed the truth she had hidden until the end. Even though it no longer mattered to him, she could not conceal her apology.
You...
"Yes."
Maxim answered the inaudible call. No reply came, of course, yet somehow he could see Christine answering in that playful voice of hers.
He swung the sword downward. Intersecting strikes carved through everything before him. The lumps of flesh could no longer obstruct him; they disintegrated along the sword path.
The way forward revealed itself—stairs descending once more.
Maxim descended again. Bustling presences rose from below.
"What the hell is this...!"
"I told you no one could possibly reach here...! Who the hell is it!"
"Stop. We deal with the one coming down first."
Before Maxim's blurring vision, a space resembling a laboratory appeared. Hooded mages came into view. Seeing him drenched in blood and covered in countless wounds, they groaned.
"That stubborn bastard... how did he get here...!"
"He's clearly not in his right mind. Everyone, attack...!"
Move.
Maxim mouthed the word. There was no chance they heard it. Their magic was already flying toward him.
Once again, Maxim's figure vanished. A mage's head flew off. The others panicked, unable to track him, and hurled spells wildly into the air. One mage's body split cleanly in two from the waist.
"Hiiik, s-save me...!"
Killing mages was far easier than slaying demonic beasts. Maxim severed the neck of the last remaining mage and advanced. Whenever hidden mages revealed themselves, his sword danced. The corridor became stained with the blood of mages and Maxim alike.
He continued down the passage. His steps began to falter. The laboratory wing's corridors twisted like a maze, yet Maxim advanced without hesitation toward the deepest point.
Light shimmered before his eyes. Maxim lifted his head, regaining his senses.
A pale glass tube stood before him. Inside the transparent liquid, one person floated with eyes closed.
"Your hair... has grown long."
The golden hair that once reached her waist had grown even longer, brushing against her lower body. With her eyes closed, those green eyes imbued with the color of fresh leaves remained hidden. On her pure white chest, the scar from that piercing wound had healed into a faint mark.
"I've come to rescue you."
Finally, with the cold glass wall between them, the mage and the knight met once more.