Trap (5)
A blue haze bloomed into Rozeta's view. In an instant, it sliced through her beloved creations with a single stroke, neatly severing their upper and lower halves. Shwick—! The sight hit her eyes first, followed belatedly by the sound of the slash reaching her ears.
Even if they weren't masterpieces by her standards, these were high-level constructs woven from layers of magic. Yet even they crumbled pathetically before a single thread of sword beam.
"……."
Rozeta stared at her puppets, now cleanly bisected. There were seven of them—combat dolls embedded with soul fragments of truly exceptional warriors from their living days, each programmed with flawless attack and defense patterns. This much firepower should have been enough to annihilate some ragtag knight order.
"…Hah."
Rozeta's eyelids drooped heavily. When she opened her eyes again, her emotionless gaze held not shock or rage, but simple irritation. The manic laughter and haughty glare were gone.
"What a needless pain in the ass."
She muttered softly, staring straight ahead. There stood her prey, still crouched low with sword in hand. Was this truly the rotten-blooded descendant who had blocked that one's path? The Hero's heir. She hadn't expected a mere title to bring this much trouble.
She hadn't underestimated his strength. But for him to demand this much effort? That was quite unexpected.
Sword beam. No human of this age should wield such a weapon—or reach such a realm. It was a strike forged by burning the body, gnawing the soul, and wringing out emotion. A feat requiring years of effort befitting the noble title of Sword Master.
"…Hm."
Rozeta let out a quiet hum through her nose and crooked her index finger in an unnatural direction. Her eyes narrowed further. It was a habit she showed before entering battle herself—her who always stayed back, toying with foes through her creations.
Shrrrrk—!
With a single gesture, amethyst spiderwebs erupted from the floor, seizing control of the training hall in seconds. Their target, naturally, was that ferocious beast.
Shing—!
Aren swung his sword, infused with sword aura, at the encroaching webs. But Rozeta wasn't about to let that happen.
Vmmm…!
She swiftly chanted a double spell, erecting a spatial suppression barrier around him. Aren’s movements slowed, and in that gap, the webs lunged from all sides.
The moment she saw it, Rozeta was certain she had him. But—
Ssssh—!
Blue mana bloomed from Aren’s body, enveloping his surroundings. Clang—! It shattered her mana-forged barrier in an instant and sliced through the approaching webs just as quickly.
"Kih."
Even as her sure-kill strike failed, a smile crept onto Rozeta's lips. Breathing heavily as if hyperventilating, she strained to hold her breath while her eyes twisted and she lightly crooked her pinky upward.
"Guh…?!"
In that instant, Aren’s form staggered. The moment he released his mana, a stinging shock—like interference in his brain—assailed him in waves.
"Urghhh!"
In the aftermath, Aren vomited onto the floor and collapsed. Rozeta watched him barely prop himself up with both arms, reverting to her earlier self as she unleashed a raucous cackle.
"Kihihihit! Stupid fool. Did you think a mere barrier was the end of it?"
She knew he wouldn't go down easy. That's why she'd planted a trap inside the spatial suppression barrier. Amplify mana beyond a threshold, and the backlash deals damage. A classic trick, but he seemed short on real combat experience.
'With that much mana output, the recoil must be immense.'
He probably couldn't even hear her voice anymore. Feeling secure, Rozeta descended gently from the air to retrieve Aren.
"Aren!"
Silvena, slumped in the corner, saw the scene and cried out in shock. But—
"Kick!"
Her reply came not from Aren, but Rozeta's mocking laugh. Now she just needed to bind him and drag him back to base.
That thought crossed her mind as she reached out—
Slash—!
"…Huh?"
Rozeta's consciousness froze. Her body suddenly felt empty. Her left hand, reaching for him, wasn't responding.
No wonder. Because her left arm was no longer there.
Why?
"Hah, huff… You think you're the only one who sets traps, you bitch?"
Before the question could form, she spotted the sword in Aren's hand. Not as potent as before, but it was wrapped in a thread-like blue glow. Extending her gaze beside it, she saw what had been her left arm, lying limp.
Snap—
In that moment, something snapped in her mind. That was all.
But that fleeting sound swallowed everything.
Kiiiiiiii—!
A grotesque wail, like the cry of the dead from the abyss, echoed out. Behind Rozeta's back materialized a hazy white-haired specter, its body torn to shreds.
"That thing…."
Aren muttered lowly upon seeing it. What the hell was it? A ghost? A evil spirit? No, nothing so mundane. It was like death given form.
He even questioned if this was truly a soul summoned by Rozeta. If so, why was it drooling and flicking its tongue, as if ready to devour her right then?
—Kihihihihit…!
"…!"
Their eyes met, and as it licked the dagger in its hand like it had found fresh prey, Aren's hairs stood on end. His breath caught, his body froze mid-rise to stand. One exhale from that thing, and he and Silvena would be done for.
An inexplicable, primal terror washed over him.
Ting!
Aren unwittingly dropped the sword he'd gripped so tightly moments ago. It wasn't loss of will to fight. For some reason, a voice in his head screamed it: It's okay to die now.
As the terror faded and calm settled in, Aren leaned toward that voice.
In that instant—
"…Hah."
Rozeta's mouth opened, a sigh—or something like it—leaking out.
—Kihi, hi, hihihi…!
Vmmm….
The soul that had seemed ready to claim all life here vanished in the blink of an eye.
What the hell just happened? Aren looked up at Rozeta with eyes demanding explanation. But she merely gazed down coldly before indifferently turning away.
'Almost killed him.'
She'd nearly wasted the offering meant for that one in a moment of rage. As Her servant, that was unforgivable. No matter how much she wanted to rip that face apart and feed it to the soul.
That blood had to be for Her. Baring her true feelings here would make smashing his neck a triviality—but then she'd fail her mission. Botch it half-heartedly, and next time it might be her head instead of her arm.
Hated as it was to admit, the brat had the skill. A miscalculation.
Acknowledging her error humbly, Rozeta decided to withdraw for today.
"…You. Why'd you stop?"
The key's question from behind made her eyebrow twitch. That tone grated—she didn't want it sounding like she'd spared him out of mercy.
It wasn't.
"Don't get the wrong idea, whelp."
Gone was the manic laughter from before—like a mask shed. Rozeta halted in place and spoke in a businesslike tone.
"Because I'm not the one meant to take your life. That's the only reason."
"That 'one' you keep yapping about?"
"…You'd better shut your trap before I rip it off. She's not for the likes of a mongrel like you to utter."
Flickering rage threatened to rise like haze again, but Rozeta suppressed it. She'd barely pulled back from possession last time; next might be different. If it reemerged, the offering would die for sure.
She couldn't let a moment's emotion ruin the grand plan.
Swish.
Bending at the waist like picking up a dropped coin, she calmly retrieved her severed arm and slung it over her shoulder.
"Kihihit! See you next time, key. Then I'll offer your blood and flesh on Her altar."
Reverting to the familiar form for Aren, she waved her severed arm in greeting. Grotesque or comical, who knew.
Aren smirked defiantly in response.
"…All talk from a coward running away. Come at me again if you dare."
Fwaaah…!
With that brief farewell, the scattered puppet corpses dissolved into light, scattering into the air. In a blink, the scene reset to normal.
Thud.
Only then did Aren sprawl out flat on the floor. For the first time in his life, even victory felt like no victory at all.