Guardian of the Key
“Bind.”
Vines burst up from the cracked gap.
Clambering up the wall, they formed a small pillar atop the tower.
He adjusted the tiniest details, the ones that would otherwise go unnoticed.
He drew out a little more vegetation, increased its strength, and wove vine against vine until they were bound tight and wouldn’t come loose easily.
The reinforcement was done in an instant.
The sturdy stems felt powerful even through a casual touch.
This should be enough to endure for at least a few seconds.
When he wasn’t using any other magic, his limit was around twenty casts.
Push beyond that, and the familiar headache would start jabbing at the inside of his skull.
On paper, the number seemed generous enough, but reality was another matter.
Bind alone wouldn’t be enough to land a decisive blow against the guardian.
He would naturally need to use Fire Tail in tandem.
How many times he’d have to use it, though, he still had no way of knowing.
After finishing his final preparations, Lawrence went down to the sanctum.
The familiar raven was no longer keeping watch at the boy’s side.
A few days after returning to the temple from the Witch’s Forest, Arwen had gone back to her own home before it grew any later.
Lawrence hadn’t forgotten to thank her.
Without her help, by now he would have been forced to rely on an uncertain method.
“There’s one thing I’d like to ask you.”
Before Arwen left, Lawrence had brought one question to his lips.
“I heard it from Laurzara. Contracts always come with an equivalent exchange. She said Arwen had already received her payment from me.”
For a moment, hesitation flickered across her face.
Then she carefully wrote her answer.
Sorry. I’ll apologize. Actually, I used Lawrence’s hair as raw material to make fragrance.
“So that’s how you found me.”
That’s because Arwen is skilled.
The same reply came back, unchanged.
That wasn’t something just anyone could do.
There was unmistakable pride tucked into those short lines.
Lawrence wasn’t particularly angry.
One way or another, Arwen had done a great deal for him this time.
If the price was only a few strands of hair, then it was hardly a loss.
“My hair is that effective?”
High research value. Beloved children are rare.
“I see. Then next time, don’t take it secretly—please let me give it to you myself. Laurzara said that would be more efficient anyway.”
Weren’t you angry?
“It wasn’t like you tore it directly from my head. Getting upset over something you picked up from the floor would be a little strange, wouldn’t it?”
Lawrence wasn’t that petty.
More than anything, he had genuinely received help.
And though it was probably impossible, the familiar seemed almost to be smiling.
....
……
Oh? You’ve been lying low for a month, and now it looks like you’ve finally sorted out your feelings.
The gravedigger’s black eyes appeared beyond the iron bars.
That’s how it goes. Everyone ends up resigning themselves to it. Don’t worry about it. A life of penance in the temple isn’t so bad, after all.
Even after a month had passed, the gravedigger’s tone remained as sharp as ever.
“I’m not lacking in faith, unfortunately. Rather than that, do you happen to know what’s behind the door?”
The Door of Repentance in Nartex? Give it up. Whatever lies beyond it, that door doesn’t open anyway.
“So in other words, you don’t know.”
If you’re trying to test me with a cheap trick, stop. It’s better for you to assume there’s no tree you could never climb in the first place.
Maybe it had been a pointless thing to say.
The gravedigger watched Lawrence, who had emerged from the solitary cell, with close attention.
That scrutiny, bordering on surveillance, continued without letup.
The boy, for his part, went on practicing magic just as he always had.
Seeing no change in his behavior, the gravedigger eventually gave up and moved on.
Lawrence didn’t move right away.
There was no harm in being careful.
He took a little more time to observe the gravedigger’s movements.
And so, as of today, a full week had passed since he’d begun watching the situation.
At last, deciding it was safe, the boy made his way to the sanctum.
* * *
The sanctum was utterly still.
Silence so complete that no noise dared set foot within it.
The passage, not a single detail out of place, carried an air of reverence and even a solemn grandeur.
“Bind.”
He murmured the word in a low voice, and vines sprang up.
The spell activated without issue.
It was no different from the Bind he had practiced in the tower.
Cracks in the ceiling.
The seams between the sarcophagus and the floor.
Everywhere was enough for vegetation to take root.
The two guardians he had encountered once more stood watch over the sarcophagus, unchanged.
They looked exactly as they had before, without even a scratch, as if nothing had happened at all.
He felt a little relief.
If there had been any change, then comparing their growth to last time would have been impossible.
His mind cooled.
His body, fully prepared, was in perfect condition—at least by his own standards.
The time for patience was over.
As always, the most important thing in spellcasting was the first move.
How much damage could he inflict on an unguarded enemy?
Conversely, if the enemy stole the initiative, there was that much more to lose.
Lawrence had learned that much deep in the swamp.
One failure had been enough.
There was no need to repeat that mistake a second time.
At least one of them.
He needed to bring one down the instant the battle began.
He narrowed the distance carefully.
He wouldn’t use Shadow Spear.
Judging by the strength of their shields, the imaginary attribute of Shadow Spear still wouldn’t be enough to pierce them. He would have to settle the matter with Bind and Fire Tail.
“Bind. Bind. Bind.”
One Bind per sarcophagus.
Rather than creating all of the Bind spells at once, it was more like preparing the vines in advance.
The vegetation growing out of the cracks and the vines he had cultivated beforehand.
Anyone could see which would be faster.
He used the passage to its fullest width.
In the worst case, he was ready to retreat all the way to the entrance.
The guardians drew closer.
This was different from Shadow Spear.
Fire Tail had a much shorter reach. He could never fight them from the kind of distance where he had been able to pummel enemies one-sidedly.
By the time he’d moved into position, there was already only one sarcophagus’ worth of distance left.
“......”
They were closer than he’d expected.
Compared to Shadow Spear, which he’d used from a distance of three sarcophagi, this was absurdly close.
In total, he had prepared ten casts of Bind.
If he used one on each of the two guardians, that gave him five chances.
No. If he finished one off and then moved on, he’d have ten more chances after that.
He would make full use of Fire Tail’s reach.
Once they were bound, he would finish them in a single stroke.
There was a tremendous difference between one and two.
Even if he couldn’t bring one down, he at least had to pin its feet in place.
As long as he could force them to fight on different timings, the rest of the battle would become far easier.
He only had one chance.
Sharpen your focus.
“Can’t” wasn’t an option.
“Bind.”
Vines rose toward the two guardians’ ankles.
They did not constrict. Like snakes creeping up a tree trunk, the vines slid over the armor in a slow, sinuous crawl.
There was no sign of the holy shield appearing.
Good. Not every spell provoked a response.
At this rate, he could maintain Bind right up until the critical moment.
He began controlling the spell more precisely.
There was no need to bind anywhere else.
He focused the vines only on their ankles and knees.
He applied force, while paying close attention to the guardians’ reactions.
He had no idea what level of pressure would make them react.
He had to proceed as cautiously as possible and create the best possible opening.
Even if a spear had the longer reach, it was still only a single step away.
Or rather, two or three steps would be needed before it could connect.
By contrast, Fire Tail could attack from beyond that range.
He would make the most of that.
Still no sign of a shield.
The guardians only stood before the sarcophagus with their spears crossed.
He didn’t feel, even faintly, that anything had changed.
And yet—had they sensed the pressure closing in from below?
The spear of the guardian that had been silent until now gave a tiny tremor.
Lawrence didn’t miss it.
He slammed mana into Bind. The vines, which had been focused on wrapping, were suddenly forced under pressure, and the two guardians lost their balance.
“Fire Tail.”
Crimson flames raced forward.
He didn’t have time to wait for them to finish forming.
Lawrence swung Fire Tail.
Clang!
A dazzling shield of radiance blocked Fire Tail.
Embers burst into the air.
Unlike Shadow Spear, there was no phenomenon of the spell simply vanishing as if canceled out. Fire Tail struck home.
Once he confirmed that, Lawrence’s eyes changed.
He struck again, and again. Then once more.
Don’t give them time.
A shield changed nothing.
He had to keep pounding them before the guardian could get back on its feet.
But his firepower wasn’t enough.
In the first place, there were two guardians.
While Lawrence was busy holding one in place, the other moved.
“…!”
A spear came surging in.
The moment he withdrew Fire Tail, he leapt backward.
Not too late. The thing had been watching him from the beginning.
Judging by the impact, the guardian couldn’t get back up right away.
Leaving its companion behind, it moved straight toward Lawrence.
“Bi—!”
Too fast.
He sprang back hard.
He didn’t even have the room to speak Bind.
This wasn’t a simple thrust, and it certainly wouldn’t end as one.
It was like a venomous serpent, always lying in wait for an opening.
The guardian’s spear writhed as though it were alive.
If he fled, it pursued him; if he thought he’d slipped away, it was suddenly in front of him.
The alarm in his head wouldn’t stop ringing.
Don’t stop moving.
The moment he stopped, he would die.
Endure it. There would come a moment when the spear slowed.
But the end never came.
The spear’s movements continued without pause.
Lawrence bit down on his lower lip.
He’d been naive. He’d underestimated it too much.
He wouldn’t be able to advance any farther without accepting some damage.
He didn’t have much time.
He had to finish this before the guardian recovered from the impact and came at him again.
Having made his decision, Lawrence opened his mouth.
“Bind!”
Fire crackled in front of his eyes.
A hot pain, like a burn, spread along his upper arm.
It didn’t matter.
In that instant, the Bind he had prepared in advance caught the guardian’s feet.
It was the same trick as before.
Rather than losing its balance, the creature shifted its spear downward.
It was trying to cut the vines away.
That gap—so brief it might not even have existed.
Lawrence was already casting his next spell.
“Fire Tail.”
This time, too, it was blocked.
Worse, the guardian’s gaze wasn’t even directed at him.
His suspicion had turned into certainty.
The one controlling the shield wasn’t the guardian itself.
It was some sort of defensive mechanism that reacted to offensive magic.
The instant it broke free of Bind, the creature lunged.
He pulled back, then retreated again.
He drew it into a second Bind.
“Bind.”
Bind and strike.
The shield wasn’t invincible, either.
If a hit got through, that meant it could be broken.
Lawrence’s prediction had not been wrong.
By the time he had used five Binds, the light of the shield was already beginning to fade before the fury of the flames.
It was only after that that cracks began to appear.
Now.
Answering the mage’s will, Fire Tail’s firepower grew even fiercer.
Before the rising blaze, the shield shattered into fragments and scattered.
The guardian’s knees buckled under the impact of the broken shield.
Maybe it had been taking the full force of the blows he’d been hammering down from above all this time.
Knelt in place, its armor was blackened with soot.
There was no hesitation.
Fire Tail, now that the shield was destroyed, cut through the guardian’s body.
The armor melted away.
Inside, where someone’s flesh should have been, there was nothing at all.
Lawrence wasn’t surprised.
The golems Arwen handled weren’t living beings, either.
He had already vaguely sensed that the guardians were something similar.
But now wasn’t the time to relax.
One had been subdued.
It was time to bring down the second.
The remaining guardian was still a fair distance away.
Freed from Bind, it was stumbling forward, one step at a time.
The attacks that had pounded the shield over and over hadn’t been useless.
Taking the shock directly, it hadn’t been able to pursue him.
“Bind.”
He used the vines he hadn’t yet deployed before the sarcophagus.
The vines, having grown with explosive speed, bound the creature in place.
Too slow.
Unlike the first guardian, this one’s spear didn’t move quickly.
Rather, it looked as if the spear itself was dragging it around, and the very reach that should have been an advantage was getting in the way as it tried to cut the vines away.
It still hadn’t shaken off the shock.
Seeing through that, Lawrence stepped forward.
“Bind.”
He concentrated on controlling the spell.
Cut one, and two grew back.
Cut two, and three.
Cut three, and four....
He suppressed the headache that was slowly creeping up on him.
This was the moment.
He had to finish the job the way one rows hard when the tide has finally come in.
Even that proud shield didn’t respond to Bind.
After sealing off the guardian’s movements, he cast Fire Tail.
Even if the shield appeared, it didn’t matter.
Unlike Shadow Spear, Fire Tail melted shields down.
He had seen with his own eyes that it couldn’t even absorb the shock.
It didn’t take long for the shield to break.
Under the repeated impacts, the cracks spread wider and wider.
Then, at last, the shield shattered.
Fragments of light scattered.
Through the falling shards, the guardian’s head also lurched.
He didn’t let the opportunity pass. Fire Tail severed its neck from its body.
With a hollow thud, the guardian’s helmet rolled across the floor.
“......”
He steadied his breathing.
The throbbing headache. The sour-bitter taste in his mouth. Only now, as pain and fatigue finally began to make themselves known, did his body whisper the winner’s name.
The course of the battle had been decided here.
The two fallen guardians would not rise again.
...If this was how it was going to turn out, he should have used Fire Tail from the start.
No. That was a useless thought.
Fire Tail alone hadn’t been enough to reach a conclusion.
Today’s victory and defeat had both been thanks to Bind.
The enemy had been few in number.
And, more importantly, they had been the kind of enemies that Bind worked poorly against.
If they had been ordinary monsters, then no matter how many vines he’d wrapped around them, they would have forced their way out with sheer strength.
Against a bugbear or an eligator, he probably wouldn’t even have been able to buy time.
He had been lucky.
Truly, he had been lucky.
Lawrence stepped past the guardians and made for the sarcophagus.
The remains were still clutching the pitch-black key in both hands.
For a key, it remained as beautiful as ever.
Lawrence recovered the key, which looked as though it had been carved from a jewel.
He had no more business here.
Taking one last look back at the remains in the sarcophagus, he left the sanctum behind.