Terror from the Third Layer
"Ghk!"
The dark elf's face twisted as she poured covering fire down from the third layer into the second.
"An unexpectedly formidable foe has appeared."
"I know! Damn it! What the hell is that kid?!"
She had been sniping even into places she could not see, guided by her own senses and the Apostle's support—yet now she bit her lip at the sight of Kaisent intercepting her arrows.
He's shooting down my arrows? A brat like that?
Her bow was mithril of exceptional mana conductivity, layered with multiple enchantments; the string itself was woven from strands of her own hair. It had been designed from the start to either coat arrows in mana or fire arrows composed entirely of it.
And yet Kaisent—who, no matter how generously one looked at him, carried nothing more than a high-quality ordinary bow—was meeting her shafts head-on. It should have been impossible.
Unless…
There was one explanation that could account for what she was seeing.
He's forging arrows with mana stronger than mine and canceling mine out?
Her teeth ground together.
That was the one thing she could not accept.
No—that was the one thing that must not be allowed to be true.
—Lilith. Guard my back, as you always have.
—Lilith! The enemy archers—!
—There's no one else I can entrust my back to, Lilith.
No matter the situation, I cannot lose a ranged duel! Not when my Master trusts me!
Her Master had known the truth of her birth and still offered her his back without hesitation. While others cast suspicion on her for the circumstances of her origin, he alone had looked at her as Lilith the warrior.
That was why she had to be able to protect his back, no matter what.
This is the one thing I will never lose!!
"The orbs! Give me more!"
Lilith shouted for the spheres she had been reluctant to consume only moments before, desperate to pour more mana into her assault.
"Well, there's no real need to go that far…"
"Hand them over!"
"…Very well. But these are the last we have."
The Apostle had already completed his plan; he handed over the final emergency reserve without particular concern.
The fiercer their resistance, the harder it will be for the enemy to suspect we have another design in motion.
Every resource they had gathered had been spent. All that remained was to resist as long as possible and prepare for what came next.
You have my deepest thanks, outsider from another world. Without you, this plan would never have been possible.
The Apostle smiled as he watched Lilith swallow one of the orbs—crafted from the distilled essence of humans by the techniques of the Outer God Alliance—and replenish her mana.
"Kyaaaah!"
The cultist who had absorbed the body of a founding hero skilled with the spear suddenly drove the weapon into the ground, launched himself into the air, and swung a tail he had kept hidden until that moment in a wide, brutal arc.
"Guh!"
"Ugh!"
The massive reptilian tail swept through them; the knights, caught by the unexpected attack, were driven backward.
CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!
"Kreeeeek!"
But a mage seized the opening and loosed a volley of razor-sharp ice spikes, driving them deep into the cultist's body. As the cultist writhed and his movements turned sluggish, a knight who had been waiting for exactly that chance severed the neck of the creature wearing a founding hero's face.
"Kyaaaaah!"
"Gwaaargh!"
With the archer on the third layer blocked and the tide of battle turning against them, the cultists began revealing the other monsters they had absorbed beyond the founding heroes. Tails lashed out; grotesque extra arms burst from their backs; clouds of poisonous vapor billowed as they fought with desperate ferocity.
Only the cultist who had absorbed Durden showed no additional abilities. Perhaps he judged Durden's power alone sufficient—or perhaps something else was wrong.
"Good! Keep cutting their numbers down!"
The Knight Captain, who had been holding Durden alongside Lillian and Priscilla, recovered his composure as the advantage swung their way and began issuing orders.
"Gyaaaaaah!"
"Hahahaha!"
"That's it! Writhe on the ground! Crawl like the insects you are!"
Among them, the ones making the greatest impact were the Holy Knights of the Evil God. Specialists in tormenting living things, every strike they landed made flesh rot and wounds split wide, blood welling and gushing in thick surges.
SPLAT!
A cultist, drained of blood and with his flesh dissolving, could not even dodge the blow aimed at his head; he simply stared blankly as it came and burst apart.
When those same techniques had been turned against them, the thought of suffering them had been chilling. As allies, they were an immense comfort.
"Kyaaaaah!"
"Grrrr!"
"Enemies from the rear!"
"Of all the damn timings—!"
Whether the soldiers sealing the cemetery entrance had been overrun or something else had given way, monsters that looked like several beasts melted and fused into single abominations came pouring in from behind.
"Arty!"
At that moment Kaisent signaled Arty and opened his dimensional storage toward the creatures flooding in from the rear.
"Come forth!"
"Grrraaah—"
"Uoooooh!"
What emerged from the dimensional storage were the undead he had stationed near the entrance precisely for a situation like this. The Abyss Knight charged on horseback, smashing into the oncoming enemies and canceling out their breakthrough force; the rest of the undead swarmed in behind him.
"We're fine for now! I'll call if it gets dangerous—focus on the front!"
With the undead sealing the entrance, the special unit that had nearly been caught in a pincer attack—despite their small numbers—regained its rhythm.
"Even a kid like that is pulling his weight! What the hell are the rest of you doing—sightseeing?! Hahaha!"
"Heh. Same as ever—all mouth and no substance."
"Kh…!"
The ones performing most spectacularly here were Kaisent first, then the Holy Knights of the Evil God. Under ordinary circumstances the Holy Knights of the Good God would have barked at them to shut up—but this time they had no retort for a single word.
"The blessing of the gods is with us!"
"Uoooooh!"
Where the Evil God's knights specialized in destruction, the Good God's knights specialized in protection and healing. With protective rites cast upon themselves, they charged with uncharacteristic recklessness straight into the cultists.
CLANG! CLANG-CLANG! Blood—?!
Attacks powered by the strength of multiple monsters and the techniques of founding heroes shattered their barriers in an instant and left wounds. But those wounds closed rapidly under the knights' prayers; ignoring everything but vital points, they drove the cultists back in a single relentless push.
CRUNCH! THUNK!
"Guh!"
"O… God of Unity…"
One by one the cultists began to fall, torn and carved apart by holy knights attacking from every side. Mercenaries and knights answered in kind, rapidly multiplying the cultists' wounds.
"We've got to earn our keep too!"
"Let's punish the ones who insulted the royal house with our own hands!"
The knights were one thing—but even the mercenaries, who normally put their own safety first, got swept up in the mood. Ignoring all but the worst injuries, they carved wounds into cultists whose vitality refused to die.
Damn it. The whole flow of the battle has flipped.
Noriyoshi had been waiting for the right moment to turn the atmosphere with a display of his own. Both enemies and allies had been weak enough until now that he had deliberately concealed his true level even from his own mercenary company, planning to seize glory in a battle where the fate of the world hung in the balance—or at least a major engagement—and rocket his reputation skyward in a single stroke.
But the civil war had already ended by the time he reached the Halrot Kingdom, leaving him to hunt undead and wait for the next opportunity.
That damn brat!
He was the protagonist.
This place was supposed to be the perfect stage for my debut!
To Noriyoshi, who had been watching for his chance at a spectacular entrance as the hero of the story, Kaisent was the one who had stolen the spotlight that should have been his.
How dare he take the protagonist's place from me!
—That guy's staring at that crap again.
—Ah, shit! I made eye contact with "that"!
—Hey. Who said you could look at my girlfriend?
—There are tons of other light novels—why do you only read isekai?
—Noriyoshi, can you stop reading that stuff and go outside and hang out with friends for once?
Watching Kaisent stand at the center of everything dragged up memories of his school days—when people had called him a disgusting otaku for drowning in isekai stories and tormented him for it.
He had always believed he was a special person born into the wrong era. Even Uesugi Kenshin, the Dragon of Echigo he so admired, would have been nothing more than a strong brawler if he had been born in the modern world.
I can be more special than I am now.
It's just that this era and I don't match.
If I had been born in an age where I could truly shine…!
And then he had been transported to another world, and even a method to grow stronger had been delivered to him as if the universe itself were telling him to become the protagonist.
I was not wrong.
I am the protagonist.
It was not that he was out of place—it was the age he had lived in that was wrong.
Should I kill him?
Everyone was blood-mad to slaughter the cultists. He wouldn't even need to do it himself. A simple break in concentration, and the archer firing from the third layer would handle the rest.
Just as Noriyoshi resolved to interfere with Kaisent, the power of the mana arrows pouring down from the third layer surged.
Until now, when mana arrows collided they had produced shockwaves and canceled each other out—
BOOM! WHOOOOSH!
—but at some point the enemy shafts doubled in force, punched straight through Kaisent's mana arrows, and plunged downward.
"Kh!"
Kaisent hastily formed a shield with his gauntlet, but Arty moved faster, shifting him out of the arrow's path. Fortunately, it seemed the other side could only redirect a trajectory once.
"Are you all right, Master?"
"Thank you, Arty! Hup—!"
He expressed his gratitude and immediately loosed another arrow, this one packed with even more inner energy.
The power just spiked! Does she still have mana to spare?!
Until now, no battle had ever left him short of inner energy. Even during the Dead Moon he had used only about half, and a single day of rest had restored it with ease. But as the arrow duel dragged on, he felt the shortage of inner energy for the first time.
"I can't hold out much longer!!"
Having poured out well over a hundred mana arrows during the fighting, Kaisent shouted almost in a scream for everyone to hear.
"It's almost over! Just hold a little longer!"
Lillian, watching others who had finished off the remaining cultists join the fight and seeing more and more wounds open across Durden's body, called out that they only needed to endure a little more.
Tch. I should have moved sooner.
Noriyoshi judged that any sabotage now would be noticed by someone.
But it's not too late.
On the third layer waited Excalibur, waiting for a master—waiting for him. Once he drew it, the royal house would try to win him over by any means. In the worst case they might even attempt assassination, but with the power of Excalibur in his hands, fleeing alone to another country would be trivial.
I can save the debut for after that.
And besides—
That little brat looks like he's finally hitting his limit.
For the first time, Kaisent's mana had hit bottom. His already pale face turned even whiter, and sweat poured from him like rain.
"Hwaaaaaaah!!"
Pouring out the last of his inner energy, Kaisent collapsed forward as if completely spent. Arty caught him as he fell and wove him through the arrows still raining down on them.
"Kraaah!"
Recognizing that Kaisent was in danger, Lillian took several hits while carving a long gash through Durden's shoulder joint, locking the corpse-warrior's posture in place.
SHUNK!
In the instant she froze Durden's movement, Priscilla split the head cleanly down the middle, as if she had been waiting for exactly that opening.
"Puh—! For the great… Uni…ty…"
The cultist who had absorbed the body of Durden, founding king of the Halrot Kingdom, still managed to mouth the prayer of the Unity God's followers even as his skull split, then toppled.
"Only the third layer remains! Aside from that unknown archer there's nothing truly dangerous—charge!"
Having dealt with the cultists who had absorbed the founding heroes and the first king's corpse, the Knight Captain judged that only the archer and a handful of guards protecting the Outer God's sacred relic remained. Without so much as a rest, he ordered the charge.
Everyone present was individually skilled and rich in experience; even mid-battle they could recover stamina rapidly through controlled breathing, making the order possible.
If those two hadn't held Durden, the situation would have been far worse.
They look like they've fought together a long time. If the two of them attack in concert…
To have fighters of that caliber, and a mage from the same company who's also an outstanding archer…
The others recognized that Lillian and Priscilla holding Durden had made the rest of the fight far easier. And having witnessed Kaisent's power up close alongside such experts, they could easily foresee that the Wolf Mercenary Group would only grow larger from here.
"Hah… haah… everyone… come back in…"
Meanwhile, cradled in Arty's arms, Kaisent tried to return the undead who had finished off the Outer God's thralls attacking from the rear into his dimensional storage.
"Hold a moment! Kid—no. You stay here and hold the rear. Those with serious wounds will remain as well, receive treatment, and guard the rear with you."
The Knight Captain had been deeply impressed by Kaisent's performance; he no longer called him a "kid mage," addressing him instead with the respect due a capable magician. He sorted out those whose wounds from the cultist fight were too severe to continue, then descended to the third layer with those who were unhurt or only lightly injured.
"Haaaaaah~~~"
Ordered by the Knight Captain to leave the undead out and hold the rear, Kaisent finally relaxed once the arrows stopped flying and allowed himself to rest.
"Heh heh heh. Looking at him like this, he's just an ordinary little brat."
One of the more heavily wounded Holy Knights of the Evil God chuckled through his pain at Kaisent's appearance.
"Hey, kid mage. Ever think about joining our order? Come to us and we can strengthen those undead you're keeping."
"Y-yes?"
"Ahem. Pay them no mind, mage. You're young and gifted. Serve an Evil God and you'll spend the rest of your life being hunted."
"Hmph. Hunted? Us? You don't know your place."
"Ah, my mistake. Not hunted—hiding. Like rats."
The remaining Holy Knights of the Good God and Evil God, left behind by their injuries, began bickering while slowly treating their wounds.
He looks so young, yet a mage of this caliber would be a powerful asset if we can bring him into our order.
A boy this talented becoming a thrall of an Evil God… the consequences don't bear thinking about.
The holy knights squabbled over a prize who had no intention of being claimed by either side.
"Um… I don't plan on joining any order…"
Kaisent regulated his breathing and made it clear that Lillian—Wolf—had saved his life, and that he would stay with her until that debt was repaid.
"And I've used too much mana… I'm exhausted, so I'm going to rest."
Finally offering an excuse no one could reasonably argue with—because he simply did not want to talk to strangers—he moved with Arty to a quiet corner.
"Haa… why does everyone keep taking an interest in me… Arty, watch my surroundings."
"Understood."
Muttering under his breath, he settled into a cross-legged posture and began circulating his energy, recovering the inner power he had spent.
There's a strange energy here unlike anything before. If I absorb it raw, who knows what might happen. Refine it carefully.
Whether because of the twisted aura of the alienized domain or something else, his inner energy recovered far more slowly than usual. He was still carefully restoring every scrap he could, never knowing when the next crisis might strike, when—
KRAAAAAAAAAAAAAA——!!
"Ugh?!"
"Gah!"
"Cough!"
Suddenly an overwhelming force erupted from the third layer like an explosion. Those still on the second layer felt the crushing pressure and cried out.
"Wh-wh-what is that?!"
"What in the world is this energy…!"
Barely recovering their wits, they had no idea what was happening on the third layer and began to panic. They could not tell whether they should rush to reinforce or stay and watch.
One thing was certain: even those who had not flinched during the fierce fighting moments earlier were now trembling, their legs shaking with raw terror.
Lillian! Priscilla!
But Kaisent had no time for hesitation. He sprinted toward the third layer.
"Hey! Kid mage!"
"Stop!"
The holy knights tried to hold him back, but he shook off their concern and raced down the stairs.
Those two are in danger! I have to save them!
Through the dual cultivation that linked their spirits, he could feel the frantic waves of fear pouring from both women. He did not know what had happened on the third layer—only that he had to save his women. Driven by that conviction, he pushed straight through the terrifying aura that had frozen even the holy knights in place.