Chapter 18
Chapter 18
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Irid and Centra's Finale -1
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The fully prepared Second Prince lay down atop the magic circle. The mad mage and the Violet Magic Tower Master took their positions on the east and west sides of the circle, channeling their mana into it.
A purple glow flowed along the grooves of the magic circle, softly illuminating the surroundings.
Preparation was complete.
The escape route, the maneuvers against the enemy, the method to rescue her. Second Prince Irid would undoubtedly save his beloved today.
The only thing still missing...
He hadn't yet prepared the final words he would say to her.
Sweat seeped from his clenched fists. Could he really pull it off? Accomplish his goal, see Centra's smile. Wish her happiness. A storm raged in Irid's mind.
Yet even if his heart wavered back and forth, even if all sorts of temptations tormented him, he never forgot what he had to do. Save Centra. That was the only thing Irid needed to obsess over and cling to.
Irid reviewed the strategy meeting in his mind as he spoke to the mage.
"How much time left?"
"About an hour in real time, Your Highness. The maintenance time has been shortened due to insufficient capacity in the mana tanks... but it's still plenty for a heartfelt reunion. Assuming no variables, that is."
Variables. Irid had a hunch, so he asked once more.
"One last question, mage. Is this magic absolutely safe?"
"Yes, of course."
"Even if I die on the other side?"
"Yes."
"...All right. I'm ready."
Irid closed his eyes. All that remained was to make it happen.
Tick.
Rosemary's lingering scent, the corridor thick with surging black smoke, scattering debris, explosions.
Tick. Tock.
You could feel the frozen time gently unraveling. Slowly, agonizingly leisurely. You twitched your fingers. You focused so intensely that you could sense every fiber of muscle throughout your body, tensed in anticipation.
Before time resumed its uncontrollable rush, you replayed the strategy meeting in your mind. Advice from Crimson Magic Tower Elder Pelseon and First Princess Elaine.
"You said you entered the same room with that girl, right? Then the enemy surely knows of your existence too."
"If it was triggered via scroll, I suspect they used a remote detonator. They'd pour mana from outside the window, confirming the target's movements for sure."
"Then they know you're alive. That you weren't caught in the explosion."
Tick. Tock. Tick. Click.
The ticking clock in your ears fades away. Time now flows swiftly once more, as it always had. Analyst C from the Imperial Defense Bureau had said this.
"A grappling gun... Shall we check under the inn room's floorboards? If they're hiding weapons and gear, that's a prime spot."
Before the black smoke could fill the room, you stomped hard on the suspiciously creaking section of the floorboards, smashing them. A hidden compartment appeared, and you reached in.
A full-body tights suit, a grappling gun, two daggers.
You grabbed the grappling gun, hooked it to your belt, and drew one dagger into your hand.
By then, the black smoke had filled the room. The faint whiff of rosemary was overwritten by the stench of flames, ash, and violence.
Then, the flashback continues.
"If they know you weren't caught in the explosion, they'll target the unharmed prince first. You said black smoke rose— if they wanted to disable someone with an explosion, blocking vision would be a loss. They wouldn't know where the blast survivor might hide or flee."
"They might have even accounted for you as a variable from the start. So their first move, as a precaution—"
────Now!
Shing—!!
As you swung your dagger wide, a blade lunging from the black smoke clanged away.
Considering the direction it came from and the familiar design of the briefly glimpsed dagger hilt. The ambusher in the darkness was the female mercenary Ronya.
You caught a glimpse of red hair.
Just as expected.
"Fighting in the dark like that would be disadvantageous. Your little brother has no preparations, but the enemy does. If you don't know what tricks they might pull, at least get to a place with clear sightlines, right?"
"The Defense Bureau has a prototype grappling gun. Practice with it."
"Good thing it was a scroll— makes the math easier. Factoring in the blast radius, the protectee's position would be around here..."
Clang—!!
You deflected another sharply flying dagger. Luck was on your side. Per your plan, you had braced for at least one stab in this phase.
The attacker in the dark retreats slightly. For a bureaucrat who just blocked two perfect ambushes right after his lover got caught in a sudden blast.
Unless he'd stopped time to think it over, he'd be an unexpectedly skilled paper-pusher...
"—or so they'll think? Mercenaries usually cherish their lives above all, so they'll pull back to assess. That gives you breathing room at last. Now it's your turn, Irid."
First Princess Elaine called it "your turn." Literally, in this chess-like exchange of moves, you'd earned a precious breath.
You gauged Ronya's position in the darkness and kicked a chair at her with your foot. A dull crash, followed by a flash of mana light. She'd channeled mana into her arm to block it.
No intent to deal damage. Just to draw her eyes.
The real play was this. You hurled your body toward the small room's window.
Crash—!
The window shattered as your body briefly soared through the sky.
From inside came a grating shout laced with metallic clangs.
"Abandoning Centra and running away, you bastard?!"
"...No."
Midair, just as the fall began. You aimed the grappling gun at your belt and fired. Toward a corridor window. Toward Centra's presumed location.
As the hook embedded in the wall, you cranked the motor to max. Your body was yanked forward like it was pulled by something.
Once more, you smashed through a window with your whole body. In the darkness, you groped around. Your fingertips touched something. Soft, twitching.
To never let go again, you gripped it tightly.
Centra's faint voice reached you.
"...Uh, Irid...?"
"Here to save you."
"...S-Sorry to bring it up in this dire situation, but... gripping there that hard kinda hurts..."
"......"
...You decided to play it off like nothing happened.
You tossed the grappling gun's handle out the window. Now the taut rope, fixed by the embedded hook, became an impromptu ankle trap.
Hoisting Centra onto your back, you dashed for the stairs to the second floor. The thrill of rescuing her lasted only a moment. Feeling your back grow slick with liquid chilled you to the core.
A fishy smell. Centra's limp arms, devoid of strength, fueled your anxiety. You needed to escape the smoke and check her wounds fast.
Thud crash—!
"You damned bastard—!!"
She tripped over the rope. Another breath earned.
You bounded down the twelve-step stairs in one go. Simultaneously escaping the black smoke. Without hesitation, you sprinted to the second-floor wall.
Hand on the wall, you drew a mana gate. Trembling hands, but no room for error—you drew it desperately. The Defense Bureau's insignia appeared. The wall parted, revealing a secret passage.
You ran. Glancing back briefly, you saw Ronya charging through the slowly closing secret passage door. Plenty of time.
You raced down the dimly lit secret passage...
Midway through the secret passage, you finished emergency treatment on the prone Centra.
Fortunately, Centra wasn't badly hurt. At the moment of the explosion, she'd summoned all her mana for defense. The slickness wasn't blood, but the aftermath of the Water Shield scroll she'd carried.
Her injuries amounted to scratches, minor burns, and mana exhaustion leaving her strengthless for a while. But her thin casual clothes, soaked through by the Water Shield, made the treatment awkward.
...You had to look to treat it!
Centra generously allowed you to see her near-transparent state. Faces flushed, you cast the Scatter Burns spell you'd learned from the field priest, taking several minutes.
Centra spoke up slyly.
"...You're pretty good at it?"
"I practiced hard. To save you."
"So that means... you went back, then came again?"
"Yes."
"...It's dangerous! You could've just stayed in your original world. No danger there. Look, that handsome face got scarred..."
"Glad you like my face."
"Not a compliment!"
"You don't like it?"
"...No, I do."
Only then did you smile.
For the past week, not a shred of a smile had graced your face. Yet being with Centra alone brought laughter— a wondrous thing.
How many people had been moved by her kindness? She had a power to draw hearts. Or maybe... you'd just fallen at first sight.
You believed Centra could do well from here on.
"With you alive, we can fix everything. Dealing with the radicals, making Beer and Songs a success."
"...Irid?"
Centra reached out puzzled, but you didn't take her hand.
Not yet over.
"Seems I still have business. Wait just a bit. I'll handle it quick and come back."
You rose, gripping your dagger.
Footsteps echoed from down the passage.
You'd hoped luck would let you end it without fighting... but it was odd if the Resistance occupying the base didn't know of the secret passage. A hunch, but you'd even suspected the Resistance was the Defense Bureau in disguise.
"...You're not running... right?"
"Right."
"Then... please don't get hurt. Fight cool, win for sure!"
"Promise."
With encouragement from your beloved, you had no reason to lose.
You prepared for the final battle.