Guardian Wifilud (3)
"Aren't you the Banished Saintess?"
"Just take the commission fee."
"Oh, my dear client! What would you have me do?"
"Go do what you're best at. And for the record, that already includes hazard pay."
An empty room, bare of furniture, steeped in darkness.
Wifilud stirred from sleep and swayed unsteadily.
What's wrong with me.
His arms and legs had locked up, refusing to move as he willed. It was a common occurrence since he had become a vampire. Searching for the cause, he cast his eyes about until his gaze snagged on one corner of the wall.
A gaping hole. It had looked precarious for some time, and sometime in the night it had finally given way. Sunlight was pouring freely into the dim room.
How long had he been exposed?
A chill ran through him as if he had caught the flu, and his head throbbed. A vampire, weakened beneath the sun. It was nothing like the days when he had been an elf, drawing vitality from photosynthesis. The warm sunlight had become a lethal poison. These days, unless he wrapped his face completely, even moving about in daylight was a struggle.
Honestly, there were moments when he wanted to give up — but he had to grit his teeth and endure. For the sake of guarding every form of life. The discomfort before his eyes was nothing more than a trivial hardship set against that calling.
I have to keep pushing.
Wifilud rose slowly and pulled the cloth he kept inside the fireplace, wrapping it around his entire body. Then he sat still and waited for the grim visitors who came every morning.
— Please listen to me…
A chill unique to spirits sank into his bones. Turning his head slightly, he saw the blurred soul of a human woman. Her form was soaked in blood. Whatever torment she had suffered in life, she was weeping bitterly.
— He said he didn't like the look in my eyes, and he just started stabbing me. It hurt so much…
It came through to him — a terrible emotion beyond words. But he could not share it. A side effect of the Spirit Eye. With almost no feelings welling up inside him, he was in no condition to offer warm comfort.
"Hang in there."
He had to soothe her somehow, so he gently patted her and drew her into an embrace. A wretched excuse for consolation.
— Thank you…
Even so, the soul smiled as she departed. How deep must her resentment have been, to offer thanks when he had not even properly soothed her wounds.
He was still biting his lip when a rabbit's soul appeared near his feet, its neck half severed and dangling. He could neither understand its pain nor communicate with it. What meaning could hollow words hold? All he could do was stroke it slowly.
"Rest well."
Bloodshot eyes blinked rapidly. Then the rabbit hopped away beyond the wall.
After that, souls kept coming, crying out their anguish or screaming. There were many kinds of death. Taken together, most of them had been killed by someone stronger than themselves. He knew the cause, and still he could do nothing for them.
A crushing sense of helplessness. That feeling — the one that so often filled the place where dry emotion should have been — surged through him again today.
— When are you going to grant my request?
The last visitor. The soul of a vampire appeared, a stake driven through its heart.
— Hurry up and save our kind in my place.
"I told you I would."
— I'm counting on you alone.
Unlike the others, this one was pushy. For reasons he could not name, every encounter left his chest tight.
— Next time I come, I'd better see some progress.
The vampire soul left after nothing but complaints.
I'm exhausted.
By the time he had dealt with them one by one, the surroundings had fallen quiet. Wifilud dragged his restored body up to the second floor.
"You're awake."
Dwain, whose lower body still had not fully recovered, raised only a hand in greeting.
"Boss. How's the body?"
"Painful."
"We'll bring blood soon. Hang on a little longer."
Every fighter of the Crimson Bandits had gone out beyond the Wasteland Zone on an expedition for blood. Their targets were mostly the blood of animals and monsters. They did not kill, but wounds were unavoidable. There was no other way. Vampires were a race for whom blood was food. He had ordered them to heal their targets afterward without fail — but in the end it was nothing more than a ploy to smother his own guilt.
"You don't have to take it so hard."
Dwain spoke in a low voice then, without even lifting his head, as if he lacked the strength.
"Opposing the very acts needed to survive is hypocrisy. You know that as well as I do."
"……"
"Remember this. The resolve to protect every life is idealism."
Wifilud nodded quietly — while inwardly swearing he would find another way.
"Have you spoken with the Banished Saintess at all?"
"No. Only with her companion."
He did not mention that the two were the same person. There was no particular reason to.
"It's about time a Pureblood visited the village. We should start discussing how to make you a Vampire Lord."
"I'll go take care of that while we're on the subject."
Wifilud was about to call a spirit for the outing.
"We've got a problem."
It appeared on its own before he could even open his mouth.
"Mander. What is it?"
Mander, a high-ranking earth spirit. The first spirit he had ever contracted with, and a steadfast companion.
"There's a human outside the village staging a protest. Says he wants to fight you."
"How did he get here?"
The Crimson Bandits' stronghold was under the protection of earth spirits — invisible nature-spirits of the natural world. A safe zone no one could reach by simply walking in. And yet this man had broken through. That meant he had used no ordinary method.
"Take me there."
"Let's go."
Mander pulled Wifilud into his body and raced straight for the village outskirts.
"We're here."
The sand that had enveloped him scattered, spreading like a canopy that blotted out the sky. From within the cast shadow, Wifilud looked at the being who claimed to be looking for him.
"Finally showed up."
A black-haired man with long hair sat perched on a large boulder, casually tapping his own shoulder with the shaft of a spear.
"You're the Guardian, right, big guy? I'm Lefis, captain of the Evergreen Mercenary Group."
"Who's that?"
"……"
A name he had never heard. The impression was so faint it barely registered in his head.
"He's a famous mercenary," Mander whispered carefully, mindful not to embarrass the other party.
"What kind of human?"
"He loves combat. A lot."
Short, but explanation enough. Someone to keep at a distance. The sort who enjoyed harming innocent lives.
"How did you get this far?"
Wifilud asked warily, and Lefis slid down from the rock.
"You familiar with the client anonymity rule?"
"Meaning you won't tell me."
"Bingo. Trust matters for a mercenary. But the contents of the job — those I can share."
The blue spearhead flashed a keen edge as it jabbed the air in its master's place.
"Our client wants me to challenge you. Fight me."
"No."
Wifilud refused without a second's hesitation. Keeping clear of battle-obsessed types was how you kept body and mind intact.
"Go back."
"I refuse too."
Black Aura gathered along the extended spear.
"Finishing every job we take, no matter what it takes — that's our company's creed. And I sure as hell can't pass up a fight that looks fun."
The Aura began to surge harder, deep and dark as an abyss.
"If you don't come at me right now, I'll storm the village and skewer them one by one with this spear."
"……"
Heat flooded his head, as if someone had set a fire there.
"I'll be nice and spare the kids' heads. Pretty generous of me, right?"
Every time the man opened his mouth, that stifling feeling pressed harder.
"If you really hate the idea, I've also got the option of attacking people who have nothing to do with you at all."
Wifilud drew a deep breath. Around Lefis, who was radiating that ominous presence, souls were gathering. A man without a head. An old man with both legs cut off. A child with a hole through its chest. Their wounds differed, but their words were the same.
— Please avenge us.
Voices thick with chill and grief rose in a chorus.
"You call yourselves the Evergreen Mercenary Group because you love nature! So how can you talk about slaughter so easily!"
Mander pushed back with unusual force, in a tone that somehow sounded betrayed.
"I never lied."
The black Aura shuddered even more violently.
"You've got to preserve nature if you want a steady supply of things worth killing."
Wifilud leaned against Mander. His breath came short; his throat closed up.
"What's wrong?"
"Something's off with me. Heat keeps rising to my head. There's this pressure — my chest feels tight."
A symptom he had never felt before. So strange and unfamiliar he could barely keep his balance.
"There's nothing wrong with you."
Mander wrapped around him gently.
"That's anger. You're angry at that man."
A stream of water welled up in the spring of emotion. He had thought it would stay dry his whole life — and suddenly it was full.
"That was the feeling all those souls who came to you were carrying."
So this is what it felt like.
At last, Wifilud truly understood the resentment of the dead.
"I have a request."
He could finally empathize. He had also found a way to comfort wounded hearts.
"Take the souls who fell to that man into your body."
"If that's what you want, gladly."
Mander spread both forepaws wide — for the contractor who had, at last, taken one step forward into the world.
Lefis held life in contempt.
He was the opposite of the Guardian. A temperament that would not balk at murder if it meant completing a job. The perfect candidate for this particular lesson.
"It seems to be going well."
"Looks that way."
We sat astride the Blackstone Horse and watched from afar as the human and the vampire elf talked. Eluke used a holy spell. I just used excellent eyesight.
"The Guardian is angry."
"Earlier than I expected."
"He managed it in under three minutes of contact."
Sending the mole all the way to Serda to hire him had been worth it.
"Still… I'm not sure this is all right. He's an extremely cruel man."
"As long as the result is good, who cares."
The Guardian had to wake up. He had to learn that some beings in this world deserved to die. There was no reason to protect every life. The Demon King's army, especially, had to be excluded without mercy.
"Look over there."
Eluke lightly touched my shoulder, pulling me from my thoughts.
"Something is happening."
"Huh?"
The mole's body swelled. The sand turned blood-red, and thick claws sprouted all over its forepaws. It looked less like a spirit and more like a monster — a ghastly shape that, even at a glance, carried a chilling aura. Dense killing intent poured off it in clear waves.
"Judging by his expression, this is a little different from what you intended."
"A lot different."
I had pictured an enraged Guardian attacking Lefis. I had not expected the mole to twist into that grotesque form.
"The Holy Power within me is reacting. Multiple grudges are radiating from inside the mole."
The Holy Power in my own body was churning too, answering those viciously bleak emotions.
"The power of the Spirit Eye?"
"Given the circumstances, that is the most likely explanation."
To awaken into a rampage like that after only a few minutes of conversation. The mental education was working far better than I had imagined.
Whether it had lost its reason or not, the mole savagely tore up the ground with its claws. Attack after attack hammered the same spot. Lefis was fighting desperately, shielding himself with black Aura.
"The mercenary captain is being pushed back."
"If a spirit and souls have fused, Aura and raw physical force won't be enough."
"Should we not rescue him?"
If Lefis died right now, it would be no different from dying of natural causes. The man had piled up that much resentment. The one who needed saving was the Guardian.
The stimulus had been too strong from the start. If he saw blood now, a vampire's instincts would run wild. At this rate, he might start seeing every living thing in sight as prey — and throw away his own ideals completely. I could not let that happen. He was a junior from the Hero's party, after all.
"I'll be right back."
I leapt down from the Blackstone Horse. Time to clean this up.
"Just in case, you guard the village. I'll handle him."
"Did you not just say Aura and physical force would not be enough?"
"I said that's usually the case."
If strength wasn't enough, you simply poured out even greater strength.
"Just watch."
I strode forward fast. Dark crimson Aura coated my arms and legs. Before long I reached the mole thrashing its forepaws in a frenzy.
"Calm down."
I sprang hard and drove a fist into its head. Sand scattered in every direction under the impact.
Had it been reverse-summoned? Seeing the Guardian still standing unharmed, apparently not.
"Don't interfere."
Scarlet eyes blazing with rage. Unlike his usual flat, dry look, they burned like open flame.
"You've punished him enough."
Behind me, Lefis was already sprawled out. Not dead yet, though.
"Not enough. The anger won't settle."
The Guardian set a hand to the ground.
"O earth — answer my call!"
The ground split in two. Countless earth spirits burst forth and formed ranks with crisp precision. At the head of the formation, the mole reappeared. At the same time, the spirit host snapped into combat readiness as one.
"If you don't step aside, I won't spare you either."
Maybe he was enjoying violence he had learned late. He looked ready to kill me too.
"Remember that feeling well. And ignore the garbage about how revenge is empty."
I fused Aura into my right arm, drawing every scrap of mana in my body into my fist.
"If you want to protect life, you also have to know how to kill someone."
The spirits surged toward me. Without hesitation I swung the Aura-compressed fist forward. My arm burst apart under the over-concentrated force. Agony ripped through my whole body. A dark crimson explosion swept the entire area.
— What in the world did you just do!
"That hurts so much."
— Of course it does!
After confirming my right arm was already regenerating fast, I surveyed the surroundings. Many spirits had been reverse-summoned; some lay collapsed on the ground.
"……"
The Guardian was curled tightly in on himself, blood running from his nose and mouth. Backlash from the reverse-summoning. He had gone rigid, as if even moving was beyond him now.
"Look somewhere else. For some reason I don't want to see your face anymore."
"That feeling is hatred."
"I hate you."
The Guardian finally passed out. With his exceptional affinity for nature, the reverse-summoning would not kill him.
— So what do we do about that one?
The mole still held the form it had taken after absorbing the souls. It was not moving at all — perhaps unconscious like its contractor.
"What else? It's been a while since I laid the grudges of the dead to rest."
— Do you think the Goddess will listen?
"Who knows."
I approached the mole — now little more than blood-soaked sand — laid a hand on it, and closed my eyes.
"O warm Sun, here are the pitiful ones who could not find rest in Your embrace."
Praying in an excommunicated body might be useless. My voice alone might not be enough to comfort them.
"Even in death they cannot sleep in peace, and wander the world with their tears."
Even so, I offered the prayer in silence — in place of the Guardian who wanted to protect every life.
"Please wrap these souls that shiver in the cold with Your gentle sunlight. Send down Your merciful light and guide them onto the path of eternal rest."
I opened my eyes. The mole was gradually returning to its original form.
— This is…
"See?"
I looked up at the sky and let a smile bloom.
"I told you She was watching over me."
The sunlight was especially clear today — like my heart, with the clouds swept away.