Omen (3)
“We are truly grateful for the support.”
The commander atop the ramparts spoke those words to Paola. Paola shook her head and pointed toward Christine, who stood beside her gazing down the wall.
“If you wish to offer thanks, direct them to our Vice Commander there. The Commander appears to be in discussion with the Margrave at the moment.”
The commander looked at Christine with a startled expression before turning back to Paola.
“Were you not the one serving as Vice Commander, sir?”
He added that he had been surprised to learn it was not the Commander himself.
“What are you talking about? You fought alongside me, so you already know I’m not suited for that kind of role.”
Paola waved her hand dismissively. The bewildered commander approached Christine with an awkward expression and offered a greeting.
“Thank you for the support, Vice Commander.”
Christine took the commander’s outstretched hand and shook it. She showed no sign of displeasure. If anything, her face suggested her thoughts were elsewhere.
“It is thanks to the royal family’s aid. His Majesty has also praised the efforts made in No Man’s Land.”
The commander sighed as he surveyed the scene below the walls.
“...We ought to live up to the royal family’s expectations, yet the situation is far from favorable.”
Even now, sporadic death cries of monsters rose from beneath the ramparts. Heaps of their corpses formed a vast sea across the wasteland.
The commander shifted his gaze back to the knight order.
“First, I will assign the soldiers to fill any immediate shortages in manpower and place the rest in reserve. Vice Commander, you are a mage, correct?”
Christine nodded.
“Then please join the mages below the walls for now. The knights will defend the ramparts above.”
Having assumed command, the officer swiftly summoned the soldiers. True to their training as troops from the royal capital, the selected men responded promptly to their new commander’s orders and dispersed to their posts.
“As for the knights… it would be best if they moved freely along the ramparts and offered support wherever they see a weakness. I cannot possibly command and control every single knight myself…”
Christine nodded in understanding. Then, in a voice that had grown remarkably fitting for a vice commander, she issued orders to the members awaiting her.
“In that case… the Raven Knight Order will act autonomously for now. All of you are renowned knights, and I trust you will adequately fill any gaps.”
No lengthy reply was necessary. At Christine’s words, the Raven Knight Order scattered across the various sections of the ramparts. Maxim was among them.
Yet as he began to run toward the western wall, Christine’s call stopped him short.
“Wait… Senior…!”
Maxim halted. Christine studied his face as he turned. It was truly an expression of perfect composure. His body must already be ruined beyond repair by the curse; the pain should be devouring him from within, dominating both flesh and mind. Yet this man was calmly donning his armor, strapping on his sword, and rushing off to fight monsters—knowing full well that one misstep beyond the line would leave only darkness waiting.
“What is it?”
Christine looked into Maxim’s eyes. They were hollow. A look he had never shown her before.
“Senior… please stay with Sir Paola at all times.”
Maxim let out a hollow laugh and replied in a teasing tone.
“You don’t trust me?”
But Christine’s expression only grew more resolute. It was as if he had voiced the very words she wished to say.
“No. That is correct. In your current state, how could I possibly trust you with an entire sector on your own?”
Maxim closed his mouth, unable to find any response.
Paola, who had been watching quietly, spoke as though trying to soothe her.
“Vice Commander… even if Maxim has shown poor form within the order recently…”
“I will not retract those words, Sir Paola. The senior we see now is not fit for the role of defending this fortress. He would only become a burden even if I assigned him to you.”
As she spoke, Christine recalled the conversation she had shared with the professor from the Magic Tower.
“I will give you a chance.”
“What do you mean by offering me a chance when you’ve suddenly come with a proposal, Professor? I made it clear I have no intention of returning to the Magic Tower…”
The professor clicked his tongue while adjusting his glasses.
“The proposal is whether you would enter under Count Benning.”
Christine scoffed.
“I fail to see how that differs from telling me to return to the Magic Tower.”
“It is entirely different.”
The professor let out a long sigh.
“Count Benning greatly regrets losing your talent. He may not show it outwardly, but he is a man with ambition.”
Christine rose from her seat.
“How much time has passed that your memory has already grown so clouded, Professor?”
The professor shook his head.
“Knowing that Leon Benning holds Maxim Apparte’s leash, you would still speak that way?”
He continued in a sharp voice.
“The true nature of that curse is…”
“Not to take his life, correct? Its purpose is the collapse of the body, and eventually the mind. To create such a state and prepare a puppet.”
Christine had cut the professor off mid-sentence.
“...You have uncovered it well.”
“I only learned recently. I should have anticipated that you would resort to far more despicable measures than I imagined…”
Christine spoke critically of the Magic Tower, which had all but fallen under Benning’s control.
“Yes. If you have realized that much, then you must also understand that he will either end up beneath Benning or exit the stage entirely.”
Christine did not conceal her sharp attitude, as if to ask what of it.
“It has given me one more reason why I must never go to any of you.”
“How can you know what they will do? He cannot possibly remain safe.”
Christine showed no sign of wavering. With resolute eyes, she stared at the professor.
“Because I will protect Senior.”
“How arrogant.”
The professor wore the expression of an elder observing a youth’s recklessness. He seemed to sneer at how laughable it was. Yet Christine’s gaze remained steady. Inwardly, the professor was unsettled by her unchanging demeanor.
“That may be so.”
“It is a shame.”
Those eyes would never change. Realizing this, the professor clicked his tongue inwardly and shook his head slowly before asking again.
“You truly have no intention of changing your mind?”
Christine nodded, a faint smile on her lips.
“None. Even if you threw a cure before me, I would refuse.”
“Even if I threatened your life right here and now?”
Christine mocked the professor as if ridiculing him.
“Professor, perhaps you should visit a physician about your memory problems.”
At those words, the professor slammed his staff against the floor. Blue mana surged around him. In an instant, he had prepared a spell.
“You are far too confident. You have been that way since you were my student.”
A magic circle formed at the professor’s feet.
“I will shut that mouth of yours this instant.”
Christine sighed. The mana—the immense mana dwelling within her—surged and shook the very walls of her house. The assistant beside her shrank back from the vast current of power radiating from Christine. Her mana overwhelmed the professor. A researcher could never defeat a knight who had spent years on the battlefield.
“If you can, then try.”
Christine spoke in an icy voice to the seated professor.
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
The professor fell silent. The pressure of the mana bearing down on him grew heavier. What will you do? Christine looked at him as though asking the question.
The professor ground his teeth and rose from his chair.
“You will regret this.”
Regret? Christine felt the urge to burst into laughter. She faced the professor with an even more determined expression. In a cold voice, she pointed at him as he stood in the doorway.
“Let me tell you one thing.”
Christine’s eyes had already hardened with firm resolve. They once more held the blue light of the forest, now wrapped in an even more mature radiance.
“As for regret, I already had more than enough of it long ago.”
So that this man would never again be hurt because of her.
Christine’s eyes were fixed on Maxim.
“Senior, for this expedition, please act with the mindset of assisting Sir Paola.”
Maxim gazed at Christine with a complicated expression. Don’t look at me with those eyes. Eyes filled with worry. When I am saying such cruel things to you and wounding you, you must not look at me that way.
Maxim slowly nodded.
“...Very well. I will follow your words, Christine.”
The moment Maxim made his decision and turned toward Paola, the bell rang.
From the highest point of the ramparts came a tolling that dragged the listener’s spirit down into the depths.
Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong.
Christine’s pupils dilated, then swiftly contracted, gleaming with sharp light.
“To battle stations!”
“To battle stations!!”
Soldiers dashed madly about, seeking their positions. The clash of weapons rang out everywhere.
“Senior.”
Christine spoke as she stepped forward. Maxim looked at her face. It was far more resolute than usual.
“Be careful.”
Maxim found himself nodding before he realized it. Christine offered him a gentle smile in return.
Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong.
The sentry rang the bell as though the world itself were ending. Hundreds of soldiers ran in time with the clanging tones. Every one of them wore the bloodless face of drained meat. What shook the soldiers’ hearts was not hatred for the monsters. They did not know when the walls might collapse. They did not know when those creatures would scale the high ramparts and sink teeth crusted with dried blood and flesh into their necks.
Such terror completely ruled their minds. Few soldiers or knights who had experienced the events of fifteen years ago remained.
The monsters were coming. Battles in No Man’s Land had always been fierce, yet one could sense biological purpose in the creatures that crossed the cliffs to attack the walls. To survive. To escape No Man’s Land and move elsewhere.
But these monsters moved like wooden logs given limbs. Without thought or understanding of their own actions, they simply hurled themselves against the wall and crawled upward with relentless determination. It was horror. Monsters that had lost all biological will trampled over the corpses of their own kind and advanced. Their numbers had already surpassed any countable limit.
A human hand could not hold back a tidal wave. The swarm surging beneath the walls was closer to a raging torrent than a tide. Like water forced into a leather sack, the monsters’ bodies surged forward without pause. Crashing into the walls and gates, trampling, killing, and tearing at one another, the monsters pressed their attack.
Flesh was being pulverized. The monsters continued hurling themselves against the wall, heedless of their own lives. The soldiers, faces drained of color, looked down at the creatures rubbing against the stone.
Crossbows and ballistae were loaded. The sound of cranks turning echoed in unison along the ramparts.
Click. Click.
The ballista strings were drawn taut, the bolts ready to pierce the monsters’ skulls at any moment.
One soldier, unable to endure the tension, pulled his crossbow trigger.
Thwack—
The bolt sliced through the air and buried itself in one of an Arachne’s eight eyes. Transparent blood and fluid scattered across the sky, and other monsters trampled the writhing creature as they passed.
At the sight, the commander overseeing the ramparts bellowed.
“Cease fire!! Have you all lost your minds? Conserve the arrows! Do you not realize that shooting now only gives those monsters a wall of meat!”
The commander seized the soldier who had fired by the back of the neck and yanked him down. The soldier dropped his crossbow and landed hard on his rear. The commander kicked the trembling man aside and issued orders irritably.
“You there, take this idiot below the walls. Assign another soldier in his place.”
“Understood.”
At the commander’s roar, the soldiers shrank their shoulders and held their breath.
“Bring the oil pots! Prepare to pour them down below the walls!”
At the commander’s shout, soldiers scrambled. Soon, accompanied by grunting, they carried over pots of furiously boiling oil.
“Hold… hold position!”
The commander yelled. The soldiers gripped the pots firmly.
“Wait until they begin climbing the walls!!”
Thud.
The momentum of the monsters could be felt against their skin. The creatures did not appear to run. Like a single colony, the swarm reached the wall. A grinding sound of stone being shaved away rose.
The commander gripped his sword hilt, waiting for the right moment.
A monster’s foot grasped the wall. Slowly, the creatures began to climb. Stepping on the foundation stones, they crawled upward with grinding noises. They climbed by trampling monsters that could not scale the wall themselves.
“They’re here, they’re here. All knights, draw swords…!”
The commander’s tense voice rang across the battlefield. The knights lowered their helmet visors and drew their blades in unison.
Maxim watched the surging swarm of monsters through the slits of his visor. Like rotten logs, the creatures climbed the wall only to be struck by boulders dropped by soldiers and fall.
“Damn it all, it really is just like back then,” Paola muttered.
In her hand was not a sword but a mace. Maxim turned his head to look at her.
“Does it bring back old memories?”
“It does. Though it feels somewhat less intense than before.”
At Paola’s wry joke, Maxim let out a small chuckle.
The speed of the monsters scaling the wall increased. Those that spotted human heads flashed their eyes and scrambled upward.
“Fire!!”
The archers released their arrows all at once. Shafts rained down like a storm, piercing heads and bodies. The monsters did not scream. They leaped over tumbling corpses and clung to the wall.
“Oil—!”
At the commander’s cry, soldiers upended the boiling pots. Scalding oil cascaded down the stone.
“Bring more! Do not leave the pots empty!”
Five toes intertwined and gripped the top of the wall. Power surged into them as though clutching a stone, and the rampart creaked and crumbled. Someone drew a sharp breath.
“Prepare for combat—!”
The commander shouted, and a monster revealed itself atop the wall.
Maxim gripped his sword with both hands and breathed slowly, inhaling and exhaling. The scent of blood and iron swirled inside his visor.
Be careful.
Christine’s parting words echoed in his mind.
I’ll try, Christine.
Amid his blurring consciousness and the pain stabbing through his chest, Maxim faced the monster that had finally scaled the wall. The creature roared, emitting a horrific stench. A sword devoid of even a trace of mana rose high into the sky. Catching the light of the setting sun, the blade glowed crimson, and Maxim’s slash descended upon the monster’s neck.