Chapter 29: The Resistance - 4
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 29: The Resistance - 4
With a large skewer embedded in his head, Delta couldn't even change his expression. His face twitched as his lips barely managed to move, painstakingly forming words.
Delta spoke with great difficulty.
“What, is, this…”
“Oh? Where’d the card go? And… ta-da! Here it is!”
Pluck. I pulled the skewer from his head. Like pulling a plug, the dammed-up blood burst forth in a torrent.
Blood streaming from his head, Delta moved with the jerky motions of a broken machine, trying to grab his gun again. But his hand kept grasping at empty air, missing its mark. He reached for the trigger, but his arm kept veering to the right. His trembling fingers were a pathetic sight.
I flipped the skewer around in my hand, and the tool that had just been lodged in someone’s skull was gone, replaced by a single card stained with blood. I shook the card to flick off the blood, then bowed deeply to Delta.
“Thank you for watching. You were a pretty good audience, but I’m a magician! I can’t possibly die in a place like this.”
“Ugh, you… me…”
“Whether chained and thrown into a river or trapped in a room full of lit explosives, a magician must always escape alive. That’s why I can’t participate in the spectacular suicide bombing show you all are putting on. I’m sorry! I’ve decided to use Tantalus as my stage and all of you as my audience for my own escape show!”
Delta’s body slumped to the ground. His brain was damaged; he could no longer respond. Only fragmented thoughts, flickering in and out, signaled that he wasn't dead yet.
But that wouldn't last long.
I crouched down and met his eyes.
We… our, objective… from the start, you knew.
“Of course, I knew. How could I not? People who are prepared to die don’t storm a place like this with a backup plan, do they?”
Knowing that, you, tried to trick, me.
“‘Tricked,’ you say. Hmm. Who tricked whom first? Your leader, who promised to help me escape with no intention of doing so? Or you, who hid behind a pretense of nobility and contemplation, silently condoning his lie? Can you truly say you didn't deceive me?”
No. I…
“It doesn’t really matter how noble you try to be. Justice that isn’t expressed through action is like undigested vomit. No matter how much you cherish your own feelings or wrap them in the guise of a greater cause, your justice is ultimately just an expression of self-love.”
My, thoughts. You’re read…
His thoughts were gradually fading. Blood drained from the hole in his head, pooling elsewhere. The pressure from the imbalance was crushing his brain. As his brain broke down, so did his consciousness.
His final thought stretched out. Like the last word of a book, drawn out to decorate the final page, his lingering regrets trailed on like inertia.
A book was reaching its conclusion.
Having read enough of his thoughts, I met his gaze and whispered.
“Farewell, Elsie Clark. You are a failed terrorist. Whatever your past was, whatever excuses you might make, they won’t change who you are.”
Ah, ah, ah.
“But I will remember you, and your final moments.”
Ah.
“Goodbye.”
His thoughts ceased.
With that, the book came to a close.
The thing that was once the body of Codename Delta, real name Elsie Clark, was now just a corpse sprawled on the ground.
I swept my hand over the corpse’s eyes. The wide-open eyes closed.
And that was it. An ordinary, short life had come to an end.
“Hoo.”
Fortunately, I didn't need to wipe away the blood. The blood flowing from the corpse was rolling toward the underground armory as if it were the natural law of the world. As long as vampires existed, I didn't have to bother with the tedious task of cleaning up bloodstains.
I rolled my stiff shoulders and muttered.
“Alright. One down.”
Next was the leader. If I didn't catch the man who took the bomb, this would never be over.
Now, then. Where is he, and what is he doing? Shall I take a peek at his thoughts?
I closed my eyes and cast out my mind-reading ability. My perception expanded like a spreading mist, and I followed the faint trail of thoughts I could feel within it.
.
..
...
“Nine thousand nine hundred ninety. Nine thousand nine hundred ninety-one. Nine thousand nine hundred ninety-two…”
Swoosh. Swoosh.
An invisible sword cut through the space. It was Chun-aeng, a sword with no weight, no thickness. The only reason it made a sound as it sliced through the air was because she swung it with the blade held flat to feel at least a minimal sense of weight. Even so, a sharp sword wind spread out as if to tear the very air apart.
“…Ten thousand.”
The ten-thousandth swing was complete. Beads of sweat trickled down her face. Her loose-fitting pants were made of a breathable material, but they were far from enough to cool her heated body. Shei brushed back her short hair, which fell just below her ears. A sweatdrop clinging to the end of a strand fell to the ground.
Unconsciously, impulsively, she sliced the falling droplet. Once, twice, five times, ten times. A series of overlapping strikes.
A single fall was transformed into a total of three hundred ninety-two small collisions. The shattered droplet scattered in all directions upon hitting the floor.
“Hoo.”
Shei settled back into her stance. It was a perfect stance. A flawless mid-level guard she had developed through her own considerations over the past thirteen timelines.
It was a stance well-suited for the weightless sword, Chun-aeng. Having no weight, Chun-aeng didn't need to store power beforehand; a simple turn of the wrist from a mid-level guard could unleash limitless transformations.
Of course, like all things in the world, this had its downsides. The inability to pre-load power was a weakness in itself. The weight behind each and every strike was lacking.
However, that was a problem that would be solved once she obtained the sword of the earth, Jizan.
So, what she needed to do was train. Before she obtained Jizan, before a powerful blade could mask her own strength, she had to shed a layer of her old self.
That was why she had come to Tantalus, and why she had learned Bloodcraft.
Shei took her stance again.
It was a perfect stance. Flawless. But to advance further, she had to break that perfection, to find flaws where there were none. Only by shattering one shell could a larger world come into view.
Long ago, in an early timeline she could barely remember, the vagrant swordsmanship she had wielded to survive now only held her back in her semi-transcended state. The time had come to discard the sword style that had supported her and died with her for so long.
To completely tear it down and build anew.
Shei gripped Chun-aeng once more.
“Hoo. Hoo.”
She had gained much in Tantalus. She had witnessed the prison break she had only heard stories about, and had even met vampires and the Dog King. And on top of that, an unexpected variable.
…A variable.
Her sword faltered. Its trajectory wavered. Shei stopped swinging and gritted her teeth.
That man with the carefree, relaxed demeanor. Every time she thought of him, Shei felt a sense of dissonance. A man who didn't exist in the future she knew. Yet here he was, exuding a definite presence. He was closer to Azzy than anyone, and even Tyrkanzyaka seemed subtly concerned about him. Even if he were to disappear now, his presence would be firmly etched in their minds.
Most of all, Shei herself was paying far too much attention to him.
“Tch. If only I hadn't gotten caught back there…”
Every time she got involved with him, she felt like she was being dragged into something. It was an unpleasant feeling, but it wasn't as if the man had done anything wrong. It was just that everything he did was strangely irritating.
Furthermore, he was hiding something. Otherwise, there was no way he could have seen through her camouflage so easily and anticipated that she would be eavesdropping.
She could win if she fought him with all her might, but since he showed no signs of hostility, she felt no need to risk everything in a life-or-death battle. So, Shei’s conclusion was to provisionally ignore him. As long as he didn't pick a fight, she wouldn't attack.
It would be troublesome if he launched a surprise attack while her guard was down, but…
“Troublesome? It’d be for the best. I’d finally know he can’t be trusted.”
If she died, she would just move on to the next timeline. From that point on, the moment that man crossed paths with Shei, he would find himself dismembered and interrogated.
Stray thoughts were clouding her mind. Shei swung her sword as if to shake them off.
Her two-thousandth swing. Sweat soaked the floor, and her breathing was growing ragged, but she was still not satisfied. When she tried to imbue her strikes with the newly learned Bloodcraft, her balance was thrown off. When she swung cleanly without waste, it felt like she was regressing to her old swordsmanship.
Blood. She thought something might change if she could fully understand blood and feel the weight of it flowing through her body.
Was her talent insufficient? Was she unable to find a stance that could contain all her power?
If only she had a sparring partner who could help at times like this… For example, a man whose depths were impossible to fathom…
“Huh?!”
Had she been too focused? She hadn't even sensed someone approaching. Shei stopped swinging her sword, took a deep breath, and glared at the intruder.
The intruder was clad in thick armor. Shei immediately identified the model. The Military State’s Combat Arm. Judging by the outdated design and signs of poor maintenance, it was likely an old model slated for disposal that someone had stolen.
Shei wiped her face with her sleeve and muttered.
“The Resistance?”
“Wh-what? How?”
The young man looked startled.
The logic was simple. Although it was an old model, the Military State would never neglect its Combat Arms, the pinnacle of its military technology. They would all be collected and either disposed of or disassembled to be used in new models.
If someone was wearing one, they must have stolen or seized a unit scheduled for disposal.
That meant it could only be the Resistance.
The momentarily flustered intruder laughed off his discomfort and said.
“Haha. It seems the fame of our Resistance has spread far and wide. To think even a young boy like you knows of us… Boy, are you a laborer too?”
“No. I’m a prisoner.”
Shei answered curtly. Her words carried no desire to continue the conversation.
Just then, Shei noticed something odd in the young man’s words. What did he mean, ‘you too’? There shouldn't be any laborers here right now.
Before she could point it out, the young man made a fuss.
“To imprison such a young boy in Tantalus! The Military State is truly a heartless, merciless nation! What crime could this young boy have possibly committed?!”
“I sat in the middle of a city and offered a gold coin to anyone who could beat me. People swarmed me, and I knocked them all down, one by one. Eventually, the army came, and I knocked them all down too. Then some guy who called himself a General showed up and arrested me.”
“Huh?”
The young man broke into a cold sweat. Faced with a response he hadn't expected, he finally seemed to take a proper look at Shei.
A slender, frail body, as if malnourished. Though a ‘boy,’ his bones seemed naturally thin; the slim ankles visible beneath his loose pants looked like they would snap with a slight tap. It was not a body suited for fighting.
But his piercing eyes, which seemed to glow with an inner light, held not a shred of fear, and his upright posture was as sharp as a well-honed blade.
He seemed less like a human and more like a sword. Even his breathing was unnerving, and he looked like he could cut down an opponent just by standing still.
The young man instinctively adjusted his Combat Arm. With a clank, the armor moved, covering his neck and the area below his chin. Shei hadn't even shown any hostility, yet he had already moved to protect his vital points out of fear.
Shei stared at the man with a gaze that could cut him down.
“The Resistance, in Tantalus… Don’t tell me it’s for some ridiculous reason like rescuing prisoners. You’re here for a terrorist attack, aren’t you?”
As if she’d hit the mark, the young man frantically waved his hands and shouted.
“What are you talking about! Do we look like terrorists?!”
“Yes.”
Shei’s flat reply was followed by a cold statement.
“The Resistance… a bunch of losers with no vision, just vague complaints. The only thing you do is throw yourselves at things like moths to a flame, committing acts of terror…”
It was a disappointment and disillusionment that sounded as if it came from direct experience—no, that did come from experience. Shei’s voice was filled with cold conviction.
The young man flinched, as if sensing her feelings.
“You’ve been thoroughly brainwashed by their propaganda! We are the Resistance, a group fighting for freedom. We will defeat the military government that has unjustly seized power and bring true freedom to this country!”
“I tried that. It didn’t change much. In fact, things got worse.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You don’t need to understand. And I have no intention of explaining.”
Shei slung Chun-aeng over her shoulder and glared at the young man.
“You’re going to destroy Tantalus? Don’t make me laugh. Tantalus won’t fall just because a few rats like you squeak and gnaw at it. You will fail. Because it’s not time for it to fall yet.”
“No! We will succeed! The leader is already at work. When he’s done, this legendary prison will fall, and we will be recorded as liberators!” the young man shouted, unable to contain his excitement. Shei scoffed in response.
“You just said it yourself. You’re here to commit a terrorist attack.”
“Hmph!”
Having admitted it himself, he could no longer deny it. The young man’s face contorted into a scowl, and he raised his arm threateningly, muttering.
“…Not bad, kid. A leading question.”
“Idiot. You just can’t keep your mouth shut. If that was a leading question, then the State Security Agency’s profiling must be mind reading.”
The continuous provocations snapped the young man’s reason. Forgetting his leader’s advice, he burned with hostility and shouted.
“That’s right! Tantalus will disappear beyond the Abyss! We will destroy this symbol of oppression! So, what are you going to do about it?”
“If Tantalus falls, you won’t make it out alive either, you know?”
“It doesn’t matter! We came here prepared to die! The Resistance is always ready to die for the country!”
“Hmph. The country.”
People who go on about ‘the country’ are never in their right minds. Shei smirked and raised her arm.
“I wonder. I don’t think that man will just stand by and watch.”
Tantalus will fall.
But not now.
In a little less than a year, ‘she’ will arrive. After that, Tantalus will fall, and from beneath it, true despair will crawl out. The Fragments of the Apocalypse, monsters that could have brought about the end of the world on their own if left undisturbed.
That is why these people are doomed to fail. They were never even mentioned in the timelines where Shei didn't exist. If Tantalus could be brought down by a few terrorists, it wouldn't be called the Abyss.
It was a problem she didn't need to worry about. That man would probably handle it just fine. He seemed skilled at this sort of thing.
“That aside, I have no reason to let you go either, do I?”
Screee.
A clear ring echoed as Shei drew Chun-aeng and swung it through the air. The sword’s cry itself was sharp, its edge revealed to the world.
Shei muttered fiercely.
“A scarecrow walked right up to me on its own two feet.”
“Scarecrow?!”
In response, the man hastily manipulated his Combat Arm. The retracted helmet shot up with a clank. A solid helmet covered his face, and a visor slid down. Steel scales sprouted to cover weak points like his neck and armpits.
Steel interlocked. Clank, clank. A rhythmic, mechanical noise enveloped him. Greaves formed on his legs, gauntlets on his arms. The muzzle of a gun loaded with six armor-piercing shells appeared on his left hand, and a massive greatsword capable of tearing through even blades appeared on his right.
The fully armed young man roared at Shei.
“Scarecrow? No! This is a Combat Arm! Do you think you can beat me when you’re bare-bodied?”
As long as one had a Bio-receptor, the mana to supplement the alchemy, and the strength to move in it…
The Combat Arm, full-body alchemical equipment that allowed even an ordinary person to wield the power of a knight.
Clad in that power, the young man strode forward threateningly and shouted.
“You’ll regret your careless words!”
“Hmmm. Bare-bodied. Bare-bodied, you say…”
But Shei was not the least bit surprised, even standing before the Combat Arm. Instead, she gauged him. The power of her opponent versus her own, and what she herself lacked.
“Good. I was just in need of a real fight on the edge. I’ll face you bare-bodied.”
Immediately after, Shei stopped circulating her Qi.
She withdrew the mana cloaking her blade.
Now, all that stood here was a frail girl holding a treasure sword far beyond her station.
With only her personal skill and experience, she had to overcome a weapon built upon the blood and history of the Military State.
Could she do it?
That wasn't important. Shei smiled.
“Let’s find out.”
The worst that can happen is I die, right?
The girl, holding a single invisible sword, approached the activating Combat Arm. To greet the sound of interlocking metal, Chun-aeng let out a long, thin cry.