Chapter 70: Going to Work (4)
Chapter 70: Going to Work (4)
The Centurion moved with such blurring speed he left afterimages in his wake. It was a pace nearly impossible to track with the naked eye—an overwhelming disparity in martial prowess.
With a single flick of his hand, Rabbit Mask’s hoverboard snapped in two. Tiger Mask, failing to endure more than a few exchanges, was sent flying, crashing violently into a wall.
“Tsk, tsk. That’s going to rattle your bones quite a bit.”
Aigle gave a thin, sardonic smirk as he checked the condition of his former comrades.
“...You filthy, traitorous bastard,” spat Sensi, the woman behind the Rabbit Mask.
The Centurion instantly pivoted toward her, but Aigle raised a hand to stay him.
“It’s understandable you’d think that, Sensi, but you’re wrong. This isn't a defection. It’s a betrayal of necessity. A choice born of inevitability.”
“Fuck—you!”
“I’m serious.”
Aigle looked up at the humming mana ore vein of Gigantes behind them. The red light cast eerie shadows over his mask.
“In the end, our goals are the same. You seem to believe your cause can only be realized if Gigantes is destroyed, but that’s not true. In fact, it’s a misconception.”
He walked slowly toward the fallen Tagan.
“We have been preparing for the Great Cause since long before you lot arrived.”
Tagan pushed himself up with trembling arms, gasping for breath.
“...We?”
“Yes. From a place much deeper and damper than where you stand. So don’t worry. What you desire will surely come to pass. One way or another.”
Aigle placed a hand on the Centurion’s shoulder. The armor was hot from the high-density mana constantly charging through it, but he didn't seem to mind.
“This friend here will become a hero of the Empire who thwarted a terrorist plot. And the Empire will continue to have its lifeblood sucked dry by this tumor called Gigantes. It’s a perfect scenario.”
Tagan let out a hollow laugh, bracing himself with his sword.
“...So that was your plan from the start.”
“Yeah. Unfortunately, Tagan, you brought this on yourself. You rejected my methods.”
Tagan shook his head.
“A revolution needs the support of the people. A revolution must embrace the people. We had to give them the strength to rise. We had to make our intent known, and Gigantes—the symbol of Imperial exploitation—had to be destroyed.”
— You talk too much.
The Centurion’s cold, hollow voice echoed from within his helmet.
— I will simply kill them.
“Fine. Kill them. There’s no getting through to them,” Aigle agreed with a nod.
Just as the Centurion began to gather mana into his iron gauntlets—
Flash.
A silent bolt of light descended from above.
* * *
Thud.
My toes left the railing. In that fleeting moment when gravity seized my body, I attained total freedom.
A four-hundred-meter vertical shaft.
I plunged into that abyss where darkness and heat intertwined. The wind roared as if to tear my eardrums, but my consciousness settled calmly, as if suspended in a vacuum.
Focusing myself into a single point... I released my mana.
* * *
The world slowed into a tranquil crawl. Silver-white mana particles clung to my body, forming a transparent film beneath my feet.
Gripping my sword, I stepped onto the air. There was no sound of impact. Even that moment was silent. For Ebenholtz is as quiet as moonlight.
Whoosh!
I added another burst of mana propulsion in mid-air. My speed had already surpassed physical limits.
Tick.
In the frozen span of time, my targets were locked.
The bottom floor of Gigantes. Two men, relaxed and overconfident in their certain victory.
The Centurion seemed to sense an instinctive surge of danger and jerked his head up, but it was already too late.
Flash!
A silver lightning bolt struck vertically. The blade arrived with grace, severing the Centurion’s helmet and neck in a single stroke. The mana-reinforced armor was sliced clean through.
Sensing the chilling presence, Eagle Mask turned his head. My sword did not stop. Carrying the momentum, I swept the longsword upward, and Eagle’s neck was likewise shorn from his body.
Thud. Thud.
The dull sound of two heads hitting the floor echoed almost simultaneously.
A heavy silence weighed down upon the underground cavern.
“……”
The revolutionaries stared at me blankly. I scanned their faces. A few were still alive, but most were beyond saving.
There was no need for finishing blows. They would be swept away with Gigantes soon enough.
“Who are...”
Just as the relatively unharmed Rabbit Mask began to ask for my identity—
Thump—
My heart reacted.
I whipped around toward the source.
Creeeak. Crack. Snap.
The Centurion’s corpse was contorting grotesquely, staggering back to its feet. Black steam hissed from the severed neck, and the headless body fumbled through the air as if trying to find its bearings.
This was Izenheim’s true nature.
I adjusted my grip on the longsword.
The thing—no, it—charged like a beast.
BOOM!
It was a mere punch, but the impact was greater than an artillery shell. Even though I parried it with my blade, my body was knocked back significantly.
The creature pursued me, unleashing a flurry of consecutive strikes.
Clang! Screech!
I was forced onto the defensive. The difference in raw strength was extreme, and the headless corpse charged without a single thought for its own protection.
Crash! Grind! Thud!
This was dangerous. If I kept getting pushed back until I hit the wall, I was dead. A single slip in my breathing and my entire body would be crushed.
Just as that alarm blared through my mind—
Whiz!
Rabbit Mask fired a wire. The creature’s body faltered, if only slightly. Immediately after, Tiger Mask lunged low and slashed at the back of its knee.
It was a clean hit that should have crippled at least one leg of any living being, but the creature swung its arm indifferently, swatting the two of them away.
In that brief opening, I caught my breath.
And I realized how to fight it.
It wasn't alive. It wasn't a biological entity. The black steam erupting from the stump of its neck was proof. It was nothing more than a machine being forcibly driven by the mana pooled within its body. In other words, once the mana was exhausted, it would stop.
There was no reason to meet it head-on.
I shifted my stance. I filled my lungs deep with clear air, settling my entire being into a state of calm.
“Whew...”
The Mana Breathing of Ebenholtz.
Suppressing the boiling battle lust, I gathered cold reason at the tip of my sword.
Standing my ground, I drew an invisible line on the floor.
I recalled Priya’s words.
The sword of Ebenholtz is, by nature, a noble’s blade.
It does not wallow in the mud or engage in vulgar brawls; it simply strikes down the lowborn who trespass into its domain with elegance.
ROAR!
The headless monster charged again. Black gauntlets lunged for my solar plexus, but I did not retreat. I simply moved my sword in a fluid, flowing motion.
Slide.
It wasn't a clash of strength against strength. I caught the creature’s power on the flat of my blade, tilting the trajectory ever so slightly to let it slide past, then swept the longsword wide to push it away. The creature tried to force its way in with brute strength, but my single outstretched blade split into two paths. Those two paths sprouted into four. Silver trajectories bloomed like a flower bud.
There was no way in.
Slice.
My sword grazed the creature’s body here and there.
Slice.
The cuts didn't need to be deep. I only needed to create holes for the mana to leak out.
Slice.
The creature continued to rush me like a monster, yet it could not set a single foot inside my circle.
Like moonlight reflecting off a lake, my sword quietly mirrored the creature’s violence.
Swish. Snip. Whir.
Every time the sword cut the creature, mana escaped with a hissing sound. Thigh, flank, wrist. As the minor nicks accumulated, the creature’s movements slowed noticeably.
Grind... Screech...
Eventually, a bizarre grinding sound leaked from the torso that lacked even vocal cords. Like a doll whose mainspring had snapped, the creature’s fist faltered in mid-air.
I lowered my sword. There was no longer any need to strike.
Creak— Snap.
The armor collapsed to its knees and then toppled forward. I stared at the heap of scrap metal for a moment before sheathing my blade.
The suppression was a success.
Then, silence settled.
“...Are you also with the Revolution?”
Tiger Mask asked, painfully lifting his head. The Rabbit Mask beside him had already lost consciousness, and his other comrades had all become cold corpses.
Tiger Mask spoke again.
“I’m sorry. We failed.”
I examined his condition. More than the wounds inflicted by Izenheim, he had been exposed to severe mana toxicity. His veins bulged blue, and blood bubbles popped with every breath.
He was as good as dead.
“There’s no need to be sorry.”
“Then let me give you something to be sorry for. Sensi... that rabbit over there is still alive. Here, I have a map marking the locations of the underground tunnels...”
The bold Tiger Mask tossed a map toward me. I caught it.
“Take Sensi and leave. I beg of you.”
“……”
I looked at him for a long moment, then gestured with my chin toward the mana ore vein.
“Do you want to destroy it?”
The heart of Gigantes, pulsing as if alive, vomiting red and blue light.
“...I do.”
Tiger Mask’s eyes flared for a moment.
“Why?”
“...My father died here.”
He spat out a cough mixed with blood.
“Because he conformed. Because he simply accepted everything that broke him down.”
He gasped for air as if recalling a distant past.
“Even in front of his watching child... he couldn't resist even once... and was beaten to death.”
Anger was etched into his voice.
Tick.
My soul sensed the absolute flow of time.
I could still talk to him for a little longer.
“My father died because he conformed to his shackles.”
I looked at him.
Tiger Mask continued to murmur his convictions as if they were fading embers.
“We must fight endlessly. We must fight to the end. We must not accept it. We must be angry, and angry again.”
Even the grand cause of revolution ultimately stemmed from the extremely small wish of an individual.
Perhaps that was why it felt more precious.
“Even if we fail in the end... we must burn bright until the final moment. If we don't, we’ll just slowly rot away.”
I looked down at him.
Suddenly, a feeling like smoldering ash rose within me.
“...I’m sorry, but we are all bound by shackles. We can never undo them, nor can we reject them.”
I answered like a sigh, tossing the bomb I carried on my shoulder to him.
“Because the name of those shackles is life.”
He caught it reflexively. It was heavy. The expression beneath his half-broken mask shifted subtly.
“Just as the ones who betrayed you said, the complete destruction of Gigantes might actually benefit the Empire. It will be an opportunity to discard the old and fill it with the new.”
I hoisted the unconscious Rabbit Mask onto my shoulder.
“However, if you still wish to be angry despite that.”
I looked back at him one last time, pointing to the bomb in his arms.
“Do as you wish.”
I left the choice to his desire.
As I turned to leave this scorched underground, he called out to me again.
“Tell me your name.”
At some point, he had cast aside his mask. It was the face of an ordinary young man, stained with blood and grease, but possessing eyes that were incredibly clear.
“I am Thomas Wagner. An employee of the Sepher-Tron Printing House.”
Even his name and occupation were those of a commoner. Yet his talent and spirit were extraordinary; had this world functioned properly, he surely would have been a successful man.
“……”
I stared at him blankly for a moment before brushing back my hair, which had been disguised as black. It flowed down, returning to its natural gold.
“Maximilian.”
I told him my real name.
“Maximilian Ebenholtz.”
Thomas’s eyes widened for a moment, and then a broad, radiant smile spread across his face.
I turned my back in silence.
* * *
I escaped through the revolutionaries’ underground tunnel to their hideout. It was a burrow cleverly hidden in a rocky crevice, not far from Gigantes.
Thud. I set the Rabbit Mask down on a bed.
“……”
Her mask had been removed at some point. Upon confirming her face, I let out a short, hollow laugh.
Celine Dubois.
The Editor-in-Chief of the Gemion Daily.
I thought she only knew how to wield a pen, but she was quite the formidable person.
I laid her down on the hideout’s bed. She was also suffering from mana poisoning, her breathing ragged.
“...Since I made a promise.”
I pulled a Super Stimpak from my coat. Injecting the full dose could cause fatal shock, so I administered exactly one-fifth.
The rapidly accelerated mana circulation would be a great help in purging the toxins.
Her survival probability was likely around sixty percent.
By the time she woke up, the situation would already be over.
I climbed from their hideout back to the surface.
From a distant hill, I looked toward Gigantes.
Soot and smoke, thick enough to blot out the starlight, covered the area like a shroud.
Flash!
In an instant, the light erupted first.
The sound came later.
RUUUUUUUUUMBLE—!
The earth fractured. At the heart of Gigantes, the energy released by the collapsing mana ore vein shook the very foundations of the land. Massive factory buildings crumpled like paper, sucked into the abyss beyond.
A total collapse.
Thomas Wagner had been incinerated along with Gigantes.
“……”
I tried to imagine what his final thoughts might have been.
He had smiled brightly upon hearing my name. Perhaps he had mistaken me for a comrade hidden within the revolution, or someone even deeper. Perhaps he held onto the swelling hope that his death was not in vain and that the Great Cause would surely be realized.
Whichever it was.
Thomas Wagner was a man of conviction. He was a human being who deserved respect.
Therefore, I hoped he died in the way that was most beneficial to him.
Since life is suffering, I hoped that by escaping these hellish shackles, he would dream a better dream in that place.
“Let’s go...”
The grueling commute was over, but I would likely have to go back to work soon.
This time, as a Knight of the Empire.