The Ancient Vampire Lirasia (2)
Logan tried to take it all in calmly.
It was not going well.
How could it, when something that had reproduced Erin and Ivar down to the last detail stood right there in front of her? Swallowing it down for the sake of her companions would have been the real mistake. Rather than cling to a dignified composure, she decided to let her emotions make an ugly scene of it.
"You two keep the one on the coffin in check."
"Understood."
At Clitia's word, Eluke and Liam fell back.
"Logan."
Then the eyes of two companions who had spent so much time together met.
"I'm counting on you."
A scorching heat rode on that lovely voice. Her face had gone so cold it nearly eclipsed her beauty. The rage burning off her felt hot enough to melt.
"And I shall leave that side to you."
Logan nodded and approached the fake Erin.
"The resemblance is rather striking, I must say."
The appearance, at least, was a perfect match. Not that it was enough to shake her.
"Freeze and die."
A killing frost began to spread through the air — cold, yet carrying an emotion that burned.
I stood facing the fake Ivar.
The outward appearance was a perfect match for the original, no question — that unkempt mop of hair, muscle packed so dense it looked carved from stone. He'd copied the Great Warrior's build down to the last detail. But a fake was still a fake, no matter how close the likeness. His skill was lacking. The way he stood alone was riddled with openings.
"Sun-bask."
"Lady Clitia."
Sun-bask's voice was far quieter than usual, steeled with the same resolve I felt.
"I'm ready."
I launched myself forward that instant. My body, reinforced with first-stage Aura, closed the distance on the fake Ivar in a flash. Whether he was reacting to my movement or not, he started moving too — heavy, lumbering strides that spoke of enormous weight, the ground cratering under every footfall. But I had him thoroughly beaten on speed. I reached him first and threw everything I had into a punch aimed at his jaw.
"...You've gotta be kidding me."
My hand went numb, like I'd just punched a slab of steel. It hadn't done a thing. His counter came crashing in.
"Look out!"
A bright barrier snapped into place in front of me, catching that thick fist. I used the opening to fall back.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. Just figure out what that thing actually is."
This was no ordinary enemy. Inside a pyramid where you couldn't freely channel mana, this was not going to be easy.
"......"
A brief standoff. He just stood there watching me, mimicking that ramrod-straight posture Ivar always had. How could he look that identical? The appearance, the mannerisms — they were all far too close. Everything except that ice-cold, expressionless face lined up perfectly. Something about this wasn't right. I waited for the analysis to finish.
"Lady Clitia, I'm done."
Sun-bask had the results before long.
"It's a soldier made by fusing corpses together. Black magic, of course."
"Don't tell me they used the dwarves from this place?"
"That's very likely."
A race with skin like rock — so the fake Ivar would be just as hard. And true to dwarven craft, they would have installed special mechanisms in the coffin, which seemed to have made it even tougher.
"Who would do something like this?"
Desecrating the dead and mutilating corpses on top of it. Never mind the character of whoever did this — the problem was that they'd created a corpse soldier inside the pyramid. A black mage skilled enough to manifest dark magic while ignoring the mana freeze. One name came to mind immediately.
The Lich, Remiraen. A Public Enemy who always ranked first on the list of suspects. He'd turned out to have nothing to do with the Nightmare of the West, but there was no telling this time.
"Sun-bask, back me up."
If I wanted answers, I had to deal with the problem in front of me first. I shot forward again. The fake Ivar responded to my movement once more, taking another of those heavy steps. The body language looked the same no matter how I sliced it — except for one thing.
"Ivar doesn't just stand there like an idiot! He charges in without thinking!"
I screamed it as I closed the gap. A fist came flying at my face — Ivar's combat habits, copied to the letter. I'd seen it coming, so I ducked easily and slipped in close, then put everything I had into an uppercut. It connected with his jaw. What I felt instead was the sensation of my own hand bones shattering.
"Finished!"
But I wasn't the only one attacking. Heat generated by Sun-bask's power raced up through my hand and concentrated on the fake Ivar's face. His face glowed red-hot. Then that rock-hard head exploded — a grotesque firework announcing my victory.
"I really didn't want to use that technique..."
"It's fine."
The heat had seared my arm as a side effect. With the broken hand bones on top of that, I looked wrecked. Still better than all those times the whole thing used to blow off, though. And I was already healing fast, so it wasn't a problem.
"Well done."
Logan came up beside me and gave a small nod. I glanced over — the fake Erin had been reduced to a single ice sculpture.
"Shall we deal with that wretched creature together now?"
"Let's."
We advanced together, toward the mysterious figure who had been sitting atop the coffin the entire time, watching us.
"Are you Remiraen?"
"You dare compare me to a pile of bones?"
The shadow veiling the figure's face receded, revealing what lay beneath. An old woman with a dignified, weathered beauty. Her face was a map of wrinkles, but those vivid scarlet eyes and that golden hair were as alive as ever.
"A vampire, then. State your purpose, and tell us how you reproduced our companions."
Ice spears erupted from the floor as she spoke, their tips leveled at the old woman's throat.
"Go on, try to resist. I have no intention of showing an elder any respect."
"What a charming little trick."
Did she not feel any danger? She was perfectly at ease even with her life being threatened.
"O fallen Saintess and Guardian of a ruined Hero party — do you truly not know who I am?"
Something familiar about the way she spoke. A creeping unease had barely taken hold before a thick miasma began rising from the old woman's body.
"It's me again."
Those scarlet vampire eyes flooded with black. Kbalt. Just like when he'd possessed someone.
"...You persistent bastard."
Don't tell me he'd come back to life again. Even for a master of black magic, this was going too far.
"Does it anger you?"
He rose slowly, eyes locked on me.
"The Kbalt you slew — twice over — was merely a fragment of Me."
My breath caught in my throat.
"Don't tell me he's in the places the Hero party is going too..."
"So you've figured it out? The 'me' standing here is nothing more than a stalling tactic."
He sneered and set the miasma hanging in the air into motion.
"While the Hero party sinks into eternal night, you can do nothing but lament your own helplessness."
The miasma became countless thorns and came screaming toward us. I was about to leap back when—
"What was that you just said?"
Eluke, who had somehow already drawn close, deployed a Solar Veil that wrapped around us and blocked the attack.
"Would you permit us to assist?"
"I was about to ask you first."
The vampire Kbalt had possessed was clearly High-rank or above at a glance. We were already stretched thin — if he started using miasma on top of that, we wouldn't be able to handle it. And this was a creature you couldn't even put down without Holy Power. Logan was operating under restrictions too, so this was no time to stand on pride. We needed the help.
"You may rest easy. So long as Liam is with us, the darkness cannot drive out the sunlight."
A luminous silver light swept past the edge of the barrier. He was only walking, and yet the thick miasma was already receding.
"Ah — there is something I neglected to mention, for fear it might come as a shock."
"What?"
"Liam single-handedly and completely eradicated all 6,251 Kbalts that existed in our world."
"......"
I snuck a glance at Logan. She looked completely stunned. I probably didn't look much better. I shook my head a few times to clear it and looked ahead.
The other world's Liam didn't so much as flinch under the furious onslaught of miasma. He walked as calmly as if he were strolling down an ordinary street.
"You thought you could stall us?"
Blood-red blades — some ability of the possessed vampire, by the look of it — rained down from the ceiling like a storm, powerful enough to punch holes through the floor. They still couldn't stop those silver footsteps from advancing.
"And you, the weakest of the Four Heavenly Kings."
A rattled Kbalt stained his nails blood-red and charged. Instead, his wrist was caught.
"Convenient of you to possess a vampire. Saves me the trouble."
A blade of Holy Power formed in the silver-gauntleted hand. Without a moment's hesitation, it pierced the heart of the vampire Kbalt had possessed.
"GRAAAAH!"
Unable to hold on, Kbalt tore free of the body and fled. But the Holy Power blade caught him again, and he writhed in midair.
"You thought Holy Power alone couldn't kill you, didn't you?"
The blade of Holy Power split Kbalt once more.
"Turns out if you cut someone over two thousand times, they eventually just cease to exist."
The slashes came without end. Kbalt couldn't even resist — he could only scream in agony.
"......"
Struck speechless by the dazzling display, I crouched down to match Logan's eye level.
"Doesn't that piss you off?"
"I suppose that is more or less how I feel."
Why was it that only our Liam had been a complete menace to the very end? I had a pretty good guess, but I didn't want to look at that too closely.
"Selen's got a long way to go before she gets like that."
"Indeed. Fortunately, we put safety measures in place this time, did we not?"
"Yeah."
I let out a breath of relief.
"A Highest Spirit should be more than enough to handle the likes of Kbalt."
Selen was at a loss. One incomprehensible thing after another.
She'd come striding into the site of the Blood Feast, full of fire — only to find every last vampire already dead. The one who'd slaughtered them was a High Vampire. And astonishingly, Kbalt had possessed this one too.
The Hero party had stood their ground and fought, but they were being pushed back. Perhaps they hadn't adjusted to the new combat style that came with their recently joined Guardian. None of them could bring their usual strength to bear.
A moment of true crisis. The benefactor who saved the Hero party from the brink of annihilation was a tiny spirit.
"You can thank me."
Karita sealed the possessed Kbalt inside a block of ice, whole. She froze even his mind so he couldn't escape.
"The previous Hero party said you should follow them."
"...Unni Clitia sent you?"
"Who else would it be?"
Karita crossed her arms, scowling.
"You're still weaker than a single spirit the previous Guardian used to command. Don't get cocky."
"......"
Selen wilted under the cold rebuke. The moment she'd stood so proudly and declared she would walk a new path suddenly felt humiliating. She was still far too weak to be talking about unity. Training had to come first.
"I accept the criticism."
Selen admitted her fault. Even so, Karita's frown didn't ease. She was silent for a moment, then opened her mouth.
"Dummy. Weakling. Weakling."
It was the harshest insult Karita knew — but Selen just blinked at her. For a scolding, it was far too cute.