Puppet Beast (3)
A young man named Jayden, one of the baron's men, laid out the situation for us.
He looked about the same age as Andy, who had been such a help during the Grat Village ghost incident.
With Paulo — Baron Manfred's right hand and chief advisor — nowhere to be found, Jayden was the closest thing we had to someone who could actually think.
Things were neither especially good nor especially bad.
"From the start until now, the dark mage has been the one at a disadvantage."
Dark magic might not be illegal in the Laviart Empire, but so long as the Lumenic Church — which branded it heresy — held sway across the entire continent, dark mages had no choice but to live in hiding.
Simply having his location pinned down was already a heavy burden for him.
He had been trying to slip out of the barony in the first place, only to get caught by the baron.
"Blessing weapons and fending off the dark mage's attacks is about the limit of what I can do."
Priest Thomas was nowhere near strong enough to face the dark mage head-on. While the baron fought the werewolf with a consecrated weapon, all Thomas could manage was keeping the dark mage occupied so the baron wouldn't take a spell and die.
I had seen him use World Magic with my own eyes during the ambush, so this was almost certainly the classic case: a World Mage who had fallen and taken up dark magic. A World Mage who had hit the ceiling of his own talent, amplifying his power through the magic of darkness.
An adult World Mage averaged around the 3-Star level. Priest Thomas would be about that strong himself as a World Mage — which meant the dark mage, with his amplified power, was inevitably stronger.
There was a reason people kept using it even after it had been branded heresy. It let you punch well above your weight with almost no effort at all.
"…Any other suggestions?"
"Pardon? What sort of…"
"Never mind."
I had expected him to propose calling in more capable clergy from a larger diocese. Apparently Priest Thomas had no such intention. He looked anxious enough, so why wasn't he acting like his usual self?
Well, if he wasn't going to bring it up, there was no need for me to force the issue.
"But until now, he's never fielded monsters."
Jayden looked at me as he spoke. Up to this point the stalemate had held, and reinforcements should have been enough to tip things our way — but then it came out that the dark mage was using the Curse of the Puppet to control monsters. Add those to the beastman deserters, and we might just lock into another deadlock.
"Karl. Cain told me. You settled that ghost business while I was gone. Said you know your curses. Got any ideas?"
Baron Manfred turned the question on me.
We were looking at two curses. The dark mage was driving the werewolf and the monsters with the Curse of the Puppet. The werewolf itself had to be a human under the Curse of the Lycanthrope.
In other words, the werewolf was laboring under both at once — the Curse of the Lycanthrope and the Curse of the Puppet.
I had never seen a case like that in Luke's Biography. And I thought I knew why.
"…I think we need to deal with the werewolf first, one way or another."
Deep inside a cave somewhere in the Manfred Barony.
"Ghhhk…"
The dark mage clutched his arm, groaning through the pain. He had lost it to some unidentified abomination when he ambushed the baron's reinforcements. Now he was grafting an arm torn from a corpse in its place, binding it on with death magic.
He was the sort who took pleasure in standing above others. That was why he led a band of deserters. That was why he had learned how to break monsters to his will.
He had come to this region to replenish his stock of beasts. At first it had seemed like easy work — land that had been lawless until recently, a lord who wasn't even proper nobility, a man they called a ruffian. His men would be nothing special. Raiding a few villages while he was in the area shouldn't have caused any real trouble.
Son of a—! You mangy little shits—!!
His expectations had been wildly off the mark.
The lord of this land, Baron Christopher Manfred, genuinely enjoyed wiping out bandits. He was the kind of man who sat around hoping a raid would break out somewhere just so he could go deal with it.
The moment he heard beastman bandits had shown up, he came running — and in the blink of an eye he had taken several of their heads. He couldn't have known the dark mage was training monsters, but he had swept those up too, the ones turned loose for the hunt.
Only then did the dark mage understand why they called the man a ruffian.
He had been forced to send out the werewolf. The beastmen alone stood no chance against the baron. But the baron was strong enough to go toe-to-toe even with the werewolf, and once the priest joined in, the creature had been driven back.
In the end, the dark mage had no choice but to step in himself. For someone who had to live in the shadows, simply showing his face was a serious risk.
It had looked like a stalemate, and his plan had been to punch a path out of the barony the moment he secured enough monsters — only for the baron's reinforcements to arrive. He had meant to cut them down before they could join up. Instead he lost the monsters he had barely managed to gather, and somewhere in the middle of it all, another dark mage had appeared — one who commanded some unknown shamanic creature.
"Damn it all!"
Why did everything keep going sideways? Why was a swordsman of the baron's caliber wasting away as lord of a place like this? And why was there a dark mage serving under a man like him?
"Boss!"
One of the beastmen came bursting into the cave.
"What?!"
"We're under attack! They've entered the forest! What do we do?!"
"What do you mean, what do we do?! You fight them, you idiot! I set up shade in half a dozen places so you could hide, didn't I?!"
Useless, every last one of them. They couldn't breathe or lift a finger without being told how. It never occurred to the dark mage that they followed him precisely because they were that stupid.
"Th-that's…"
"What now?! Spit it out, you dense bastard!"
"They've… set the forest on fire."
"…What?"
Probably to keep them from hiding in the shadows. He understood the reasoning well enough — but setting the forest ablaze?
"They set the forest on fire? This whole vast forest? The lord set fire to a forest in his own territory? Does he have any idea how important the woods are to his people? Is that even allowed?"
"I wouldn't know, sir…"
He had no way of knowing that the Manfred Barony was so overrun with monsters that the locals never set foot in the forest to begin with. Still, for a dark mage playing bandit chief, it was a surprisingly reasonable question.
"So what now?"
"…What else. We get out however we can. Round everyone up."
"Yes, sir!"
Once the beastman had gone, the dark mage drew a single fang from inside his robes.
The catalyst for the Curse of the Puppet bound to the werewolf.
Ash and embers whirled through the air in every direction. Fire seemed to rain from the sky — a scene straight out of some great catastrophe.
"Ahahaha~~!! Burns nice and hot, doesn't it~~!!"
The baron was having a drink with the blazing forest as his side dish. His more empty-headed men cheered right along with him — but not everyone was celebrating.
"Captain! Are you actually a lord, or what? Huh?"
"Shut it~~!!"
"I-is this really all right?"
Brenden, Priest Thomas, and a few others with functioning brains looked openly uneasy.
"Beats letting the dark mage get away."
If the dark mage wanted to come out alive, he would have to put out fires as he moved. And once Clara arrived, she could keep the blaze from spreading any further. I had already sent a messenger racing to the castle to bring her. If I had known it would come to this, I might have brought her from the start — though given the danger, it was probably better she came later.
"Father! The enemy's coming out!"
Cain reported to the baron.
In the heart of the forest, the flames parted and a corridor opened. Through it poured beastman deserters and a pack of monsters. Fortunately, there were fewer beasts than expected.
"All right~~!! Hic! Let's have ourselves a little fun~!!"
The baron drew his great curved sword and charged out first. His men roared and surged after him.
Where the baron's side brimmed with fighting spirit, the beastmen and monsters looked thoroughly wretched, their fur scorched black.
"No sign of the werewolf or the dark mage."
Priest Thomas muttered.
"They're saving themselves for last. Cowards."
He had already lost an arm to me. He would have figured out by now that there was an unknown dark mage among us — which would only make him more wary.
"Werewolf!"
I looked toward the shout.
The werewolf. A mane of fur streaming like a cloak. A massive frame that made a greatsword look like a short blade. Armor clamped tight around that enormous body.
"There you are at last, mutt!"
Grrrrrr…
The baron swung his great curved sword and barreled into the werewolf. The creature answered with a swing of its own blade. Steel crashed against steel, scattering sparks.
Even watching it, I could barely believe it — the baron was not giving an inch in raw strength against the werewolf. The two of them locked weapons and shoved, dead even.
GRAAAAAAAAH!
Unlike the baron, who was clearly enjoying himself, the werewolf cared only for slaughter. When its opponent refused to yield, it let out an irritated roar. Yellow drool sprayed from its massive jaws all over the baron. He paid it no mind.
"Cain! Now!"
While the baron held the werewolf in place, Cain lunged for an opening. But the creature's reflexes were razor-sharp — its head snapped toward him. The long snout split wide.
The jaws clamped shut. A wet, crushing crack of bone. Blood and scraps of flesh went spinning through the ash.