A Blade Through Space

"See? I told you."

Under the pale wash of moonlight, Lorraine gave a soft smile.

"You couldn't use your Legion Commander's power freely at school either, Simon. You climbed your way to the top of Kizen on nothing but your own strength. I think that's remarkable."

Simon scratched his cheek, looking a little embarrassed.

"...Thank you. But isn't it hard to compare our situations that simply? I only started learning dark magic *after* becoming Legion Commander, while you've had a power you were good at taken away from you."

"I suppose so?"

She turned her head away with an air of perfect indifference and looked up at the night sky.

"The moon is pretty."

"......"

Simon studied her.

As harsh as it is for Lorraine, I think Nephthys's judgment this time wasn't wrong. If she can live well within this constraint for the two years she has left...

Simon, who had felt time and again how everything he learned at Kizen fed directly into his strength as a Legion Commander, was certain of it.

She would become a far stronger, far greater necromancer than she was now. This second year would be the greatest turning point of her life.

"Shall we get up, then?"

All three buckets catching the groundwater had already overflowed, water spilling over their rims.

She rose to her feet. Simon lifted the bucket he'd brought in his right hand and reached for a second one.

Tap.

Lorraine's pale hand came down on the back of his. The two of them pulled away at the same instant.

"......"

"......"

An awkward silence pooled beneath the moonlight. Lorraine spoke first.

"I'll carry them."

"No, no! I'll take both!"

After bickering back and forth over who would carry the third bucket, the two of them finally settled on grabbing it together from the middle.

"One. Two. Three."

"Hngh—up!"

Boy and girl walked toward the camp carrying the water buckets between them.

They were strolling along, enjoying the pleasant night breeze, when Lorraine suddenly burst out laughing.

"Aren't we ridiculous? We could've just had a skeleton do it."

"Not very necromancer of us."

The two of them walked on, chatting idly.

So they arrived at the group camp. They had just been about to light a fire and start cooking when they noticed the area was unusually noisy.

"What's going on?"

Simon asked. Lorraine traced a drop of blood on the ground with her finger and said,

"I hear horses coming from our camp. Let's go."

Simon and Lorraine rushed into the group camp.

"What happened?"

Serne, Kajan, Lisa, and the coachman were all there. And one unfamiliar figure — a man, bleeding, gasping for ragged breaths.

Lisa clutched at him, shouting.

"Big brother! You can't move! Your wound will tear open!"

Big brother?

Simon's eyes widened. Then this man was—

My client! The one who sent the message begging to be saved!

The man looked up at Simon, breathing in shaky, broken pulls of air.

"Are... are you Si, Simon Polentia... sir?"

"Yes. That's me."

The man strained ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to push himself upright.

Standing, he was about Simon's height. His face still had a boyish softness to it — the two of them looked to be nearly the same age.

"You're my client, aren't you?"

Simon held out the request letter, and the man nodded as he looked at it.

"Yes, that's right. But more than that, there's... something I have... to tell you."

He drew in another rasping breath.

"I'm so sorry you came all this way... to Tarados... I truly... am."

A sense of dread crept over Simon.

"The job I requested... is already finished."

The man drew a coin pouch from his belt with trembling fingers and pressed it into Simon's hand.

Inside were five gold coins, worn dull from a lifetime of laboring hands.

"The, the job is done... so please, return to... Kizen."

"......"

Simon stood frozen, pouch in hand, staring at the man.

White as a sheet, the man kept gasping for breath, then looked at Lisa.

His sister's face was twisted with worry. He managed a smile.

"I'm sorry, Lisa."

"B-Big brother?"

Having said his apology, the man turned back to Simon, eyes bloodshot and burst with red.

Then he strode forward and seized Simon by the collar.

Shff.

Simon caught sight of Kajan extending his claws and Serne plucking a feather free — and stopped them both with a flick of his eyes.

At last, the man's mouth opened.

"Save... save them, please!"

Blood poured freely from his lips.

"The Society is mad! Even now they're conducting horrific human experiments on innocent residents! Countless townspeople are locked away underground, and the 'Experiment' is all but complete! Once it's finished, not just Tarados — the entire continent will be ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in danger!"

He coughed, choked, coughed again.

Drops of his blood spattered across Simon's face.

"B-Big brother!"

"Please!"

He vomited blood and collapsed to his knees, seizing Simon by the trouser leg with a trembling hand as he begged.

"Please, save the people! The one behind it all is Nirrti, the Society's chief mastermind! Someone has to stop her—!"

He retched up a mouthful of blood and crumpled. Amid the rising murmur of voices, Kajan lunged forward.

"It's a curse! Don't say another word!"

At the same moment, an uproar erupted outside.

Lorraine threw back the tent flap and stepped out to find great fires burning all across the camp, and assassins in black, their faces unreadable, slaughtering soldiers and bandits alike.

Simon shouted.

"Lorraine! Serne! Kajan! Handle the situation out there! And General Amin and Captain Karac — you have to keep them alive at all costs!"

"Got it!"

"It's dangerous here! Sir, get yourself somewhere safe too!"

"Y-yes! Please, be careful!"

The four of them dashed out of the tent.

Three remained. The client was breathing in shallow, failing pulls of air, and Lisa, clinging to him, was crying too.

"Erze."

Simon spoke into the empty air.

"Don't let anyone in."

[Yesss, as you command~]

Erzébet's voice drifted in from somewhere unseen, followed by the sound of spider web winding tight around the entire camp.

Simon knelt and put a hand on Lisa's shoulder as she clutched her brother and sobbed into his chest.

"Lisa."

She looked up at Simon through eyes drowned in tears.

"Don't worry. I will ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠save your brother. I promise."

"Si... mon..."

Her eyes fluttered shut, and the tension drained from her body. Simon laid her, sleeping under the Sleep curse, gently onto the camp cot.

Then he approached Lisa's dying brother.

"Sleep for a moment."

Simon layered multiple stacks of Sleep over him, leaving him in a state like anesthesia. Then, breathing slowly and evenly, he stretched both hands into the air.

Pure mana magic.

Mana gathered around his outstretched hands, sketching a magic circle into the air.

It was a barrier spell worked in mana, taught to him by his mother, Anna. She'd told him: if the day ever came when he absolutely had to use divinity, he was to raise this barrier first.

Soon, a film of mana wrapped itself around Simon and the client.

I won't let anything go the way you want it to. Not one thing.

Simon brought his palms together before the man's wounds.

There's nothing I can't do!

Murmuring the words, he triggered his shift — and Simon, transformed from necromancer to priest, kindled a white light of miracle in his palms.

Simon held the light steady for a long moment before withdrawing his hands.

His internal organs are damaged. Treating surface wounds alone won't be enough.

Simon drew out a small knife.

A white-magic spell taught to him by Farahan, his professor of Divine Defense.

A blade made of divinity, longer than the knife beneath it, rose shimmering above the steel. He would have to cut the flesh open himself and apply white magic directly to the damage inside.

Professor Farahan walked me through the theory, but...

Cold sweat beaded on Simon's forehead as he gripped the blade of divinity.

Will it actually work?

But there was no choice left to make. If he stood here hesitating, this man would die. And he had been studying the priest's discipline diligently all this while, for exactly this reason.

I WILL save him!

Every assassin the Society had sent was dealt with.

The moment they were captured, they collapsed coughing blood and died, exactly like the client had earlier outside Simon's tent. A brutal way of sealing mouths.

General Amin had cut down the assassins who came for his own life, and though Captain Karac took a serious wound to the shoulder, he somehow managed to survive as well.

Once the chaos had settled, Kajan and Lorraine returned to Simon's tent. But the tent was draped in an uncanny, web-like film.

"Simon!"

Fwish!

Startled, Lorraine conjured a dagger from her ability and was about to charge when Kajan raised an arm to block her.

"What are you doing? Simon is—!"

"Simon is fine. Wait."

Before long, the webbing enclosing the tent flowed away, and Simon stepped out from within.

His clothes were soaked in blood, and draped over his arm was the client, who had been vomiting up blood and dying only moments before.

"I managed to do something for him."

Simon said, breathing hard.

Lorraine examined the man's body and froze in astonishment. She had thought there was no way to save him — yet his breathing had steadied, and his complexion had improved beyond any comparison to before.

Astonishing. Even the potions from Toxicology class would have only gone so far. How did he treat him?

Lorraine looked at Simon with puzzled eyes. Simon was already carrying the young man toward the regular army's medical tent.

......

Once Simon was fully gone from sight, Lorraine slipped into the tent he'd just left.

Ah.

The air stung.

And though it was faint — very faint — the jet-black mana inside her body was reacting against something. Pushing back.

Don't tell me this is...

Her gaze whipped back toward the direction Simon had gone.

I must be... imagining things. Right?

Lorraine thought.

Perhaps Simon was a far more secretive person — and far, far more extraordinary — than anything she had imagined.

Midnight was almost upon them.

Simon peeled off his blood-stiffened robe, changed into fresh clothes he could move freely in, and made his way to the ruins.

"You've come."

Kajan, Lorraine, Serne, and General Amin had gathered before the ruins. Captain Karac, gravely wounded, would apparently be sitting this battle out.

"What is it?"

Simon asked, feeling Lorraine's steady gaze on him. She hastily looked away, flustered.

"N-nothing at all."

"The time has come. I will now open the door."

Glancing at his wristwatch to confirm midnight, Amin drew out the key hanging around his neck.

"It seems the Society's assassins were after this all along."

Serne crossed her arms.

"But hmm~ we did wait until midnight, and I don't see anything happening, do you?"

"No."

Simon said gravely, staring hard at the empty air.

"The space is warped. Just a little."

"? I can't see anything."

Amin swept his palm through the air as he moved — then stopped short at one spot. Simon was looking in the same direction.

"Then I will open the door to the Society's secret base."

Amin drove the raised key into the air with all his strength.

KKUUUUUUUUNG!

As though space itself had answered, light rippled through the emptiness and a wall like transparent glass rose up. Everyone let out a gasp of awe.

Zzik! Zzizik!

Amin's hand, still gripping the key, trembled violently. Sparks crackled as the space threatened to open and closed again, refusing to give way.

"So it cannot be opened by the lord's key alone."

Kajan's expression darkened.

Shrrng!

Then Simon, who had been watching from behind, stepped forward. His right arm had, at some point, become sheathed in Pier's bone.

"General Amin. Keep stimulating the space with the key, just as you were."

"Ah — yes, sir!"

Simon settled slowly into his stance and raised the Sword of Ruin upright. Serne, usually so languid, straightened her spine with her eyes gleaming; Kajan grinned.

What's about to happen?

Lorraine looked at them all, puzzled.

He's going to—

Simon's waist twisted, and the bone-white Sword of Ruin, laden with jet-black, slashed out.

—the sensation of cutting space itself away!

SKREEEEEEEEEEENG!

A long straight line was drawn through the air, and a heartbeat later, the warped space split apart with a rending crack. Beyond it, a new space lay exposed.

Simon lowered the greatsword and peered inside with cold, sunken eyes.

There it was — the interior of the Society's secret base.

If only to finish the 'Experiment,' Nirrti would not have fled. Not her.

"...We're going in."

Simon murmured, cold as frost, and led the way.

"Heheh~"

Serne lolled her tongue out, looking delighted. Lorraine glanced at her.

"Going out of your way to use such a crude move to rile that man up~"

Serne waved her index finger back and forth.

"There are so many colorful ways to commit suicide, after all."