Chapter 68
Chapter 68
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 68
Chapter Title: Chapter 68
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 68
Chapter Title: S2. A Grudge Brushing Against the Stars -3
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Heavy eyelids lifted with effort, and the nightmare etched into the retina clung stickily between the lashes. That hazy state midway between dream and reality. Hard to discern if what lay before him now was dream or reality.
The three shook off their drowsiness each in their own way.
For Tara, this chilly place devoid of her family's warmth was reality.
For Niore, the site haunted by the screams of those she couldn't save and her own lingering mistakes was reality.
For Bennett, this place with its unresolved conclusion and clear objective was reality.
The tormented black mage drew his sword. On one face of the blade flashed the visages of all the lives he had cut down thus far. On the other reflected the image of the little sister he had to save.
He had never properly heard Tara's or Niore's life stories, but if there was a difference between him and them, it had to be that slender thread of hope. No matter how slim the odds of success, the ability to cling to hope at every moment had allowed Bennett to press on.
So what if he lost that goal?
What if the Corpse Flower that Devours Fear ultimately failed to keep its promise, leaving him forever unable to reunite with his sister? Would he crumble then, lose all hope, and twist into something unrecognizable?
How was he supposed to go on living after that?
The safehouse held tools for weapon maintenance, so Bennett polished his beloved sword with an oiled cloth. His own face gleamed back at him from the meticulously cleaned blade.
This wasn't the time to dwell on it or draw conclusions. The clock tattoo on his wrist was urging them onward. It was time to navigate this horrific world, thick with the shadow of the evil god.
"Wake up. Not much time left until we return. Time to wrap up the day."
Tara sat up with tousled hair at Bennett's words and mumbled drowsily. Dark fatigue lingered around her eyes, and it almost seemed as if part of her soul remained seated at a dinner table from the past.
Just yesterday, she had asked Abraham about the breakfast menu like this.
"...Breakfast?"
"Canned tomatoes."
"You'll cook it?"
"Just eat it. No facilities or time for cooking. Think of it as fuel."
"...Abraham would've cooked."
Tara stared at the can containing nothing but plain tomatoes, her mind drifting to tomato spaghetti or pizza and all those wonderful shared dinners.
Bennett clicked his tongue and muttered offhandedly.
"Cooking... we'll do it once we're out."
"...So you'll cook."
A strange feeling.
Tara sensed an indefinable emotion. Good or bad? It felt good. Her melancholy had lifted a bit. But she couldn't quite identify it, so she started to tack on a few more words to Bennett.
"Niore, snap out of it. No sleeping."
"Your writing's all over the place. Wake up and eat something. Here."
Niore scooped up a spoonful in her half-asleep daze, but less than half even made it to her mouth. The rest she yielded to the safehouse floor.
"...Half of it's spilling. Hand over the spoon. Open up."
"Uwaa."
Bennett fed her the mashed tomatoes one spoonful at a time. The sourness made Niore's face scrunch up, but she obediently accepted each bite.
Tara griped from the side.
"Niore's not a baby... Can't you just let her eat alone?"
Bennett pointed at the pathetic tomatoes splattered on the floor.
"See that? She's still too sleepy and spilling everything."
"I'm sleepy too."
"What, so you want me to feed you?"
"Yeah."
Tara nodded, paused to think, then realized what she'd said and bolted upright. Her face flushed crimson with embarrassment as she jabbed a finger at Bennett.
"...No, no! Don't say weird stuff!"
"Yeah, you're definitely still half-asleep..."
Having just woken from dreams with traces still lingering, or perhaps because of the drowsy haze, the time they spent preparing for the journey felt surprisingly harmonious. Like family, but laced with the scent of roses.
"Tara, don't rush ahead!"
"Told you not to worry, it's just one fanatic!"
Crunch.
Tara drove her fist home, and the fanatic's head snapped at an unnatural angle as he crumpled. Bennett swiftly followed, covering the rear.
"And if the enemy's attacks are threatening but their defense is laughable, quickest dispatch is best!"
"I agree, but you didn't have to..."
"I did!"
Tara smashed the adjacent wall, scooped up a chunk of broken brick, and hurled it at the fanatic around the corner. It missed, grazing his ear and shattering an innocent window instead.
Shatter! Thud!
Bennett's thrown stone embedded in the fanatic's forehead. Tara grumbled at her errant brick.
"Even I can miss once..."
"You... Hoo. We'll talk after."
Bennett swallowed the words rising to his throat and scanned the surroundings. The battle had erupted upon passing through Miskatonic University's main gate. As if lying in wait, fanatics of the Silver Twilight Order had ambushed them.
Bennett's goal was to break through, reach the forbidden archive, hole up, secure Abraham's research materials, and escape. Now they were locked in confrontation with the fanatics just one block from the library.
The ivy-choked walls bearing the university's storied history were pockmarked and crumbling in places. As if foreshadowing the institution's decline.
Ordinary students wandering the campus screamed at the sudden anomaly, fleeing or huddling in buildings, trembling. They'd called the police repeatedly, but even after quite some time, no sirens wailed.
And the fanatics, when they caught civilians...
"Uwaaaaaagh!!"
Crunch, grind.
They sacrificed them to unleash powerful spells.
The civilian gripped by the throat ballooned grotesquely like a balloon before bursting with a pop. From the blood spray crawled a monster with bat wings. It lacked facial features, bore a pair of horns, and roughly humanoid form.
The monster flapped toward Bennett and lashed its thorny tail like a whip.
"...Hup!"
Clang, slice!
He parried and severed the tail midway. Bennett furrowed his brow. The toughness transmitted through his hand was no joke. It required channeling mana into the blade to cut through.
Not invincible, but a war of attrition. The campus teemed with civilians. Summoning monsters from every one would leave them parched and dry.
Slam! Screeech...
As he blocked the incoming claws with his longsword held like a shield and struggled in deadlock.
"sir'k... A'stra."
Niore rasped the incantation. The monster's shadow bubbled violently, and a massive tentacle erupted, coiling around it and dragging it under. The monster thrashed before vanishing completely.
Only unidentified black ooze remained where it had been swallowed by its own shadow.
"...Thanks, Niore."
Niore wiped her nose with the back of her hand at the sensation of something trickling out and flashed a bright smile. Blood smeared her hand and face.
As if it were perfect timing, she used the nosebleed to complete her next spell. She drew a magic circle and offered blood, summoning a meter-wide mass of writhing crimson slime.
"...Got it. Tara! Don't charge out—come in quietly!"
"I could've taken one more...!"
Whoosh!
Tara, thrashing in frustration, grabbed a nearby candelabra as her final act and hurled it like a spear. It impaled a fanatic's abdomen and pinned him to the ground. She grinned at his convulsing form before ducking into the library.
Once Niore and Bennett were inside too, the crimson slime adhered to the door and slithered across the exterior walls. It would guard the entire building and buy them time.
There were people inside the library too. Spotting the blood-soaked trio with weapons drawn turned the interior into pandemonium. Some tried smashing windows to escape, only to be blocked by the crimson slime.
"...We have no interest in you! Stay hidden in a corner!"
Bennett glanced at Niore's raised whiteboard, bellowed once, then led the group into the forbidden archive.
Shelves of tomes and Abraham's safe came into view. The safe was massive, sturdy, and bulky. Moving it without a truck seemed impossible.
"...No way to move it. We'll have to take the contents. Key of Phin Borei."
Bennett gripped the safe's lock and cast the spell. An ancient lockpicking magic, passed down as the invention of some thief.
But no satisfying click sounded. Even twisting the handle yielded nothing—the safe didn't budge.
"Magic's not working...?"
"Any password guesses?"
"...That Isaac or whatever, maybe his birthday."
"No one we know, obviously."
The group had no leads. No password, couldn't move it. They'd have to force it open. Bennett poured mana into his longsword to its limit. A bluish aura rippled along the keen edge.
Scraaaaaape!
Sparks flew as the safe began to slice apart bit by bit.
"How long?"
"Going careful to avoid damaging contents. About ten minutes."
"Niore blocked the entrance with that weird spell, right? Ten minutes is nothing..."
Niore flinched hard and whipped toward the library entrance. Tara muttered with a face that refused to believe it.
"...No way, right?"
"Ten minutes, you said? I'll buy time, Bennett. Keep cutting!"
Tara left Bennett and Niore behind and shoved open the forbidden archive door.
The library entrance gaped open like something had gnawed through it, and from there strode a man wearing a necklace, leading the fanatics.
The fanatics wore expressions of rapture, as if accompanying him was the greatest honor of their lives. Which made the man's solitary indifference amid their ecstasy stand out all the sharper.
The necklace-wearing man. Bennett had read about him in reports. He was the leader of the Silver Twilight Order.
The leader addressed them leisurely.
"Who might you be? Why cause a disturbance in this venerable university boasting ancient traditions?"
"...You're the leader?"
"Indeed. I've answered graciously, so may I expect reciprocity?"
"Why'd you kill Abraham? Why the hell?!"
"I asked, and kindly answered to boot. Yet all I receive is fleeting resentment... No interest in dialogue, I see."
The leader drew a bizarre gem from his bosom... An irregularly cut crimson irregular polyhedron. That had to be the glowing irregular polyhedron they sought.
Tara heightened her vigilance and prepared her protective spell. Three Dogs Guarding the Goddess. A divine shield that resisted any attribute of magic. She visualized it and drew up the mana granted by the goddess...
"...Wha, what?"
The divine power bestowed by the goddess wouldn't rise. She forced it, but it was less than half her usual output.
It grated. The absence of the power that always filled her body felt chillingly vivid. A sense of emptying out. Cold and stark. An undeniable void she couldn't ignore.
Tara's face drained of color.
Why? Why...
Because I harbored doubts?
The leader casually extended his hand. Five nearby fanatics shrank in an instant. The survivors gazed on in ecstatic trance, deeming it a blessed honor.
"I saw it in the future. You obstructing our grand design. Such blasphemy demands you accept death gladly."
Space twisted, and something hurtled forth.
A formless fist. Invisible and unavoidable, it struck the defenseless Tara dead-on. A blue flash erupted.
Smack!
The physical force sent Tara flying. She smashed through the forbidden archive door, bounced once off the floor, and crashed into the shelves. Her waist bent at an impossible angle. She convulsed briefly, then the light in her eyes flickered out.
Books avalanched atop her.
"......!!"
Niore let out a silent scream.
At that moment, Tara's body—shrouded in blue light—faded away like mist. As Niore panicked, unsure what to do, Bennett halted work on the safe and calmly assessed.
"...Safeguard triggered. That blue light means she returned to the original world."
"......"
"Not much time left."
Bennett glanced at the clock tattoo on his wrist. It teetered perilously close to zero. Return was imminent anyway.
"Stay here, Niore. We'll head back soon."
Niore tugged at Bennett's hem as he moved to leave the archive. Her hands trembled. That glimpse of Tara's corpse... horrific. Even knowing the safeguard worked, she never wanted to see such a sight again.
Especially not Bennett's.
Return soon? Then just stall till then. Desperate to convey wait, she clung to his clothes. But Bennett gently pried her hand free.
"...He's an enemy we have to beat eventually. That thing he's holding looks like the glowing irregular polyhedron. So."
Not charging in rage over Tara. Necessity demanded it.
Bennett repeated that to himself as he exited the archive. He'd pored over reports on the leader. He had a magical barrier. Best to test if it could be breached.
The leader regarded the approaching Bennett with composure and asked once more.
"The prior lady's soul is now His, so I'll ask you. What reason for invading the university and sowing chaos?"
"Why summon a god? Word is everything just gets erased."
"...A worthy question. I'll gladly answer. Souls taken by Him enjoy eternity in His embrace until the universe's end. I wish to bestow that grace upon all on Earth."
Bennett's grip tightened on his longsword.
"I'll answer too. I'm here to kill you."
Bennett flooded his leg muscles with mana to their limit and kicked off the floor. Crack—tiles shattered outward as his body shot forth like an arrow.
Nothing was perfect; cracks existed everywhere.
Even surefire attacks couldn't land if unseen.
"Pelseon's Black Smoke, Eyes that Pierce the Darkness!"
Boom!
Jet-black smoke billowed, blinding the surroundings. But thanks to the chained spells, Bennett's vision pierced the haze.
In the smoke-born darkness, Bennett dashed silently. At last, he closed to point-blank range before the leader.
Close quarters.
The leader's eyes—previously gazing astray—slid smoothly toward Bennett. Or rather, slightly off: to the mana-charged longsword and Bennett's legs.
His eyes were a murky gray. Near blindness. Yet he'd pinpointed Bennett's position amid the impenetrable smoke.
He sensed mana, using it in place of sight.
Bennett hastily suppressed his mana, but too late. Twisting space loomed. He crouched defensively.
Smack!
Bennett flew back like Tara, hurtling into the forbidden archive. Niore watched his arm twist unnaturally before blue light enveloped and erased him.
Then, time expired. Niore too faded from the world.
"...No presences remain. I'll withdraw; cleanup to you, brothers."
The leader gave a curt nod and slowly exited the library. Behind him echoed the screams of civilians slain to erase evidence...
"...Gasp."
Bennett opened his eyes. He strained to rise from the magic circle, but his body felt strangely heavy and uncooperative. Glancing down revealed Niore clinging to him, her face crumpled in tears.
"......"
"...I'm fine. See? Alive and kicking."
She must have been badly shaken; teardrops clung to her eyes. When was the last time someone fretted over him like this? It felt odd.
Bennett stroked Niore's hair and stood. Turning his head, he saw Tara huddled and trembling.
Bennett asked, startled.
"...Tara, something wrong? Safeguard malfunction?"
"No, no. I'm fine too. Just... a bit shocked."
It seemed more than mere shock—like a child who'd lost something precious. She was in full panic. Bennett considered words of comfort but held his tongue. He wasn't used to that.
Instead, he walked over and plopped a hand atop her head.
This was how he'd encourage a frightened little sister. He figured Tara would snap his hand away in irritation, but she didn't react. She must have needed it that badly. Bennett silently stroked her hair.
Dropped into an alien world, losing dear ones in gruesome fashion. Pushed to death's door at the end.
Tara and Niore both looked mentally drained. Stab wounds could be stitched, but gashes to the soul festered and defied easy treatment.
Looking back, it was a litany of failures.
None had achieved their desires. Bennett sought a lead to save his sister but found none. Tara yearned for family but lost it. Niore wanted to save lives but only accrued more debts.
Failure. But.
"...But there's a next time, right."
Bennett wanted to say it was okay. But lacking conviction himself, he chose silence.
In the quiet, they comforted each other awkwardly.
The mad mage responsible for this mess entered the room thirty minutes after session end.
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