Master of the Sword
Master of the Sword
The plan posed no real difficulty. Even if it had been hard, Angie had no reason to refuse.
She would have gone along regardless, and the plan itself was simple enough that she followed without a word. She hated it, found it deeply unpleasant, but the girl was incapable of refusing anything Aslan asked of her.
"A priest of the Ground-Breaking Giant, you say...?"
Angie's role was straightforward. Cross her arms. Maintain the most priest-like demeanor she could manage. Whatever that demeanor actually looked like, she had to sell it.
The scheme was simple. Impersonate a priest—a symbol of authority exceeding even a Master—to win the bandits' trust and take charge of the bloodworm hunt.
Aslan set it in motion.
"Yes, this is Lady Angela, the cult's most promising rising figure. Under ordinary circumstances she would never stoop to such menial work, but her order has designs on expanding its influence into Randy Gorge."
Aslan spoke to the skeptical bandit chief, gesturing toward Angie with exaggerated deference. Angie lifted her chin and radiated arrogance.
"Her Ladyship commands the Authority of Ruin, as any priest of the Ground-Breaking Giant does. A single stomp of her foot, and everything in the vicinity would be destroyed. She has deigned to lend that precious power to your cause."
Angie nodded as if granting assent. She had a gift for bluster, and her performance was convincing enough.
Aslan glanced sidelong at her haughty pose and added,
"You know as well as I do that a drawn-out defensive slog against bloodworms is a losing proposition. Give them one corpse, and they multiply beyond counting."
"...Yeah, that's true. So what's your point?"
The bandit chief still studied them both with wary eyes. Aslan met his scrutiny without a flicker of expression.
"We're going to kill the Swarm Mother."
"...Swarm Mother? The hell is that?"
The chief knew nothing about bloodworms. Aslan feigned mild contempt and explained.
"The queen that commands the bloodworms. She controls every last one of them in this region, dominates their collective consciousness itself."
She was more than that, in truth.
Think of the bloodworm swarm as a single vast body. The Swarm Mother was its head and its heart. She saw through their eyes, felt through their senses, and directed every bloodworm simultaneously.
Like any creature whose brain governs its limbs, the bloodworms moved exactly as the Swarm Mother willed.
But complex details would only breed misunderstanding, and Aslan wasn't asking for wholehearted cooperation or trust.
"Kill the Swarm Mother, and the bloodworms collapse. She is the center of the swarm. Deprived of her, the bloodworms die off before long."
The information was a lie, but the bandit chief knew nothing about bloodworms.
He swallowed it without suspicion.
He chewed on the information and kept thinking. Something still felt off. His puzzled gaze shifted to Angie, and behind her mask of arrogance, she tensed. Had he seen through it?
"This little runt is a Giant's Priest...?"
A crack formed in Angie's expression. Aslan noticed and moved to head her off.
"Isn't she a bit stubby for a giant?"
"The hell did you just say, you bastard?"
Angie's hard-won bluster evaporated. She bared her teeth with a growl. Her fingers curled into a fist, and the grinding sound that came from it was not a noise human knuckles could make.
The bandit chief's eyes tracked that fist and froze in place.
"You wanna fucking di—"
"Your Holiness. Restrain yourself."
Ereta intervened before the fist could fly or Angie could lunge. She laid a light hand on Angie's shoulder, and the girl sucked in a deliberate breath and lifted her chin again.
Some of her reason returned. Which only made her wince inwardly—she hardly looked priest-like right now. She thought fast.
"I shall overlook it this once. My inclination is to smash you to pulp where you stand, but that would ill befit one in holy orders. You would do well not to test my forbearance further."
Angie had dredged up her mental image of certain nobles. Dragon-kin nobles, to be precise—insufferably arrogant ones.
She modeled a noble's hauteur on them, and the bandit chief swallowed hard and averted his gaze.
The stone floor beneath Angie's feet had split apart.
"M-my apologies, Your Holiness. I dared to doubt your power."
He was groveling. Angie had simply been enraged by "stubby," but she feigned magnanimous indifference and tilted her chin toward Aslan.
Aslan took the cue and resumed.
"To continue—grinding bloodworms down piecemeal achieves nothing. You have me, the Master of Combat. You have Dmitri, whom you hired. And now Her Holiness is here as well. If you do not kill the Swarm Mother, you will remain trapped in this gorge forever."
"...I'd like some time to think—"
"Think? By all means. You are free to choose whether you dry up and die here, get wiped out by bloodworms, or abandon your slaves and flee with nothing but your skin. I only want you to know: there is exactly one choice that doesn't end with you dead."
Aslan's words drew cold sweat from the bandit chief. The truth in them pressed down on him.
"There is only one way you leave this gorge alive. Kill the Swarm Mother."
Dmitri watched the whole exchange with his arms crossed, quiet, as if he wanted no part in it. His gaze flickered—he was trying to read Aslan's real objective.
He surely understood what would happen once the Swarm Mother died.
But he kept his mouth shut. His silence made the bandit chief even more uneasy. The man ran a hand over his face.
"Do you, do you absolutely have to take Dmitri too? If the bloodworms attack while he's gone..."
Aslan answered.
"If we go after the Swarm Mother, the bloodworms will target us, not you. They will try to stop us. You will be safe."
The chief didn't reply. He buried his face in his palm and muttered. Trapped in Randy Gorge for so long, pressed by bloodworms, he feared the worst-case scenario above all else.
Aslan watched him for a moment, then spoke. Time to plant hope.
"Understand this: I want to invest. That is why I came to find you. I will return. Her Holiness will return. We will kill the Swarm Mother and escort you all the way to the Kallus Empire."
"How am I supposed to believe—"
"This should suffice."
Aslan produced a coin purse from within his coat. Silver and gold, currency good anywhere on the northern continent. He handed the solid weight of it to the chief, who accepted it with the same hand that had been scrubbing his face.
"It's a deposit. I will return."
The bandit chief had no choice but to pretend he believed.
He sent Dmitri off like a man swallowing bitter medicine. Dmitri gathered a few supplies and rejoined Aslan at the edge of the ruined village. Falling in beside him, he clapped Aslan lightly on the shoulder.
"I'll let it slide this time. It's not my operation, and I've got a pretty good idea what you're scheming anyway."
Aslan glanced over at the patronizing pats. Dmitri grinned, sly.
"You know what I'm after, don't you? Don't forget it."
Aslan gave no answer, and Dmitri lifted his hand as though silence were answer enough.
They left the dead village together, heading into the gorge. Dense trees and thick forest stood utterly silent, empty of any sign of life.
"So. Do you have a way to find the Swarm Mother?"
Dmitri asked not long after they began walking. Aslan answered.
"I already know where she is. There's only one place she could be."
"Oh-ho, impressive. Where?"
"First—how much do you know about Randy Gorge and the bloodworms?"
Aslan asked, and Dmitri rubbed his chin.
"About as much as anyone knows, maybe a bit more? The place was suddenly overrun with mining settlements. The bloodworms are those parasites that burrow into the heart. Some wild mage created them, right?"
Angie slowed her pace to eavesdrop. Ereta walked ahead, clearing branches with her axe.
"Bloodworms are heart-parasites, as you say. They cannot survive without inhabiting a living host. That forces them to hunt constantly. They roam outside often, night and day alike."
"Hm, right."
Dmitri had been fighting the bloodworms infesting the gorge; he knew that much. Their attacks respected neither darkness nor daylight.
"But the Swarm Mother is different. Her instinct is to conceal herself from stimulus and danger. She favors places beyond sight, beyond the reach of external disturbance."
Dmitri let out a low murmur. Only one place fit that description.
"The abandoned mine in Randy Gorge. The deepest part of its deepest shaft. That is where she'll be. There's nowhere else. We go to the bottom of the mine and kill her."
Dmitri made an appreciative sound, then laughed.
"So that's your angle."
He seemed to have caught on to Aslan's scheme, but Aslan didn't elaborate. He answered blandly.
"I don't know what you mean."
"Fine, whatever. Only one thing matters to me. After the hunt, will you fight me?"
"Not immediately, at least. Unless the situation worsens, I doubt I'll have cause to fight you."
Dmitri's eyes gleamed like a killer's as they reflected Aslan's face, then the light in them receded.
"Can't be helped, then."
He shrugged and led the party toward the gorge where the mine lay.
"You mentioned a mine shaft? I happen to know a likely spot."
"A likely spot?"
On the path into the gorge, Dmitri spoke up suddenly. Aslan prompted him, and he launched in with enthusiasm.
"Yeah, a likely spot! But first—how much do you know about this mine? Heard any rumors?"
"...No. Nothing."
Aslan glanced around as he answered. Ereta looked utterly uninterested, and Angie wore the blank expression of someone who knew nothing about any mine.
"My companions haven't heard anything either."
"Ah, really? Shame. Well, I'll assume you don't know and get on with it. Word is, some kind of treasure was uncovered inside that mine."
Treasure?
Aslan frowned at this unfamiliar information. Dmitri saw his expression and grinned slyly.
"I took this job partly because that fat bastard recognized my skills and hired me. But also because of that treasure. Some people even say this whole bloodworm outbreak started because of it."
"What treasure?"
"Hey, don't rush me. I'm getting there. Anyway, when I heard about the treasure, it got me thinking. It's tied up deep in this bloodworm mess. Because... doesn't something seem off?"
Aslan furrowed his brow, silently asking what was off. Dmitri laughed.
"Have you seen any wild animals around here? Any other monsters? No, right?"
Now that he mentioned it. Aslan registered the utter absence of wildlife. However badly the bloodworms were swarming, the stillness was unnatural.
Add to that the mass outbreak of bloodworms, and the picture grew deeply strange.
"Creatures that need a steady supply of blood, hearts, and hosts—persisting in a gorge that's been bled dry of life—that's an obvious anomaly."
"...You have a point."
"Right? They should've all died off. Instead they're holding on and trying to butcher us. Why do you think that is?"
Aslan didn't try to answer. The question was rhetorical.
"It's because of the treasure. The Swarm Mother built her nest around it. She's sustaining herself on its power."
"What kind of treasure could do that?"
Dmitri stopped walking, and the gorge opened up before them.
Between sheer cliffs and crags, a few wooden and stone bridges spanned the gap. Below them stood several statues carved from the rock itself.
The statues had endured since the days of the Ancient Empire. Their colossal forms, thick with moss, radiated a strange contrast between faded grandeur and decay.
Behind the statues, a massive stone mountain rose, pocked here and there with mine entrances.
Dmitri gazed at those dark mouths and spoke offhandedly.
"The personal relic of an Ancient Imperial Legion Commander. He fought the Empire's enemies without rest for fifty days and fell dead on the fifty-first."
Aslan turned his head at the seemingly random declaration. Dmitri's face was dark with intrigue.
"It was buried in the earth during the war between gods and Ancient Gods—if you could even call it a war, really more of an execution—and vanished. But they finally dug it up. Out of that mine. The sword."
"A sword?"
"Yeah, a sword. It steals the life force of whatever its wielder cuts and gives it to the owner. A blade that literally robs life."
Aslan could place it now. The name and the power surfaced vividly in his mind.
"A famed blade forged by the God of Struggle, lesser deity of the God of War and Knowledge."
"Seobsaeng."
"Right. Heard of it, have you? I figure the Swarm Mother's been surviving off that sword's power."
Aslan nodded.
Seobsaeng made it plausible. If she was siphoning life force through the blade, then surviving this long in a dead zone added up.
Dmitri watched understanding flicker across Aslan's face and said,
"I know that little runt isn't really a Giant's Priest. And I know you'd sooner die than cooperate with a priest."
"Little runt?"
Dmitri was right. Aslan didn't cooperate with priests. They were targets to be fought, never allies.
Aslan eyed him sidelong. Dmitri stood loose-limbed and crooked under the scrutiny. He ignored Angie's scowl entirely.
"What's your plan to take her down?"
Instead of answering, Aslan looked ahead again. The distant stone mountain caught the rising sun's crimson light, carving the flood of dawn across its body. It didn't look majestic. It looked sinister and dull.
He studied it for a long moment.
"Angie isn't a Giant's Priest. You're right about that. But that doesn't mean we have no options. In fact..."
Aslan's teal eyes shifted toward Angie. The feeling in them was trust.
She was a last descendant of the Ancient Gods whose Health had reached 10. The trust was natural.
"She might be able to take it down more efficiently than a Giant's Priest ever could."
Angie still looked sullen despite that trust. She'd already been told how she was going to do it.
Aslan met her eyes. Dmitri turned to look at her too. Ereta even cupped her hand beside her mouth and whispered, "You can do it."
All eyes on her, Angie chewed her lip and sighed.
"Fine, fine. This is the easiest way, right?"
"Yeah. I'm sorry."
Aslan smiled ruefully and patted her head. Angie went still under his hand and pouted.
"And it's the safest way."
She seemed to think about that, then closed her eyes and nodded.
"Right. Me getting hurt is better than any of you getting hurt. It stings, but I heal fast. You guys don't."
She looked up at Aslan, whose hand was still on her head. Specifically, at the empty space where his right arm used to be.
"It hurts my heart when you get injured, so I'll work hard. Heart-hurt doesn't heal."
Aslan's awkward smile couldn't quite hide the guilt beneath it.
"I'm sorry. If there were a better way, I wouldn't ask this of you. If you really hate it..."
"Ah, forget it. I'm the one who told you to use me."
She rolled her shoulders, loosening up, and added,
"And when I got smacked around earlier, it wasn't that bad. Just stings."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me. We're companions."
Dmitri still didn't know the method, and his expression was puzzled, but he soon understood why the girl had looked so reluctant.
Once they entered the mine shaft, Aslan's "safest way" could be summarized as "Operation: Angie Meat Shield."