#060 Memory
#060 Memory
KABOOOOM!!
A pillar of red fire shot up into the sky.
The Veil of Darkness draped over the lake region burned away in the blaze, and the blue moon hanging in the sky slowly began to illuminate the land.
"......."
Bareness stood with her sword raised high toward the sky in one hand.
Flames coiled around her entire body like rags, and her exposed white skin didn't bear so much as a scratch.
"Heh, hehe, haha...!"
Furcas, sprawled on the ground, let out a hollow laugh.
Every last undead he'd brought had burned away without leaving so much as bone dust, and he himself wasn't much better off.
"You're strong, Hero...! How cowardly...! Fighting with nothing but the Holy Sword's power, not your own...!"
"Shut your mouth, heretic."
Bareness's expression was fierce.
Around her lay many gravely wounded, and some had even stopped breathing.
"I can never forgive you."
"Forgive me or not... my part is done regardless. While you were tied down here, Normance will have been reduced to ashes. Hee-hee...!"
"No."
Bareness's voice carried certainty.
"Normance will be safe. Even if the Great Demon King you all so desperately wish for returns alive, Normance will be unharmed."
"Ha, hah...! Foolish...!"
Furcas jabbed a finger at Bareness and sneered at her.
"The Great Demon King has already—"
Crunch.
Something appeared and crushed Furcas's head.
Furcas's head burst in an instant, and at the sight of the figure who had appeared while trampling Furcas, Bareness lowered her sword again.
"You... who are you?"
"...You don't need to know."
A clear woman's voice.
The woman in a white robe that covered her entire body wore a white fox mask that hid her whole face. She snatched the Mana Stone from Furcas's corpse, then turned away.
"Who are you?! Reveal yourself!!"
"I said you don't need to know. Hmm, though I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you...."
Crush.
The woman shattered the Mana Stone with the grip of her hand.
At the white light that gathered in her hand, Bareness's heart dropped.
"Y-you...?!"
"To call yourself a Holy Sword Hero with only that much. Utterly laughable."
"No way...!!"
"My name is...."
Swish.
The woman vanished.
"......."
* * *
FWOOSH.
Flames coiled around his entire body.
At first, Malphas thought nothing of it.
No matter how fierce the flames were, they weren't the Holy Sword's flames.
The Flame Hero Bareness was being held back by Furcas, so those flames were simply magical fire used by the witch.
That much was no problem at all.
Flames like that could not defeat Malphas, the monstrous bird formed from the gathered grudges of dead crows.
So Malphas thought.
FWOOSH.
SCREEEEEECH!!
The screams of crows echoed in every direction.
Malphas's vision, too, was dyed crimson by the flames clinging to his soul.
Ah.
So that was the Holy Sword's fire.
The Hero Bareness had left her power behind before she departed.
He'd been had.
Completely outplayed.
—Think of those called Heroes as natural disasters.
Those were the Demon King's words.
Because you never know when or where a Hero will do something bizarre, being defeated by a Hero is no shame.
It is the same principle as being struck dead by a lightning bolt that suddenly falls from the sky. He said that even he himself, the Demon King, could one day be killed by a Hero who suddenly threw open the gates of the Demon King's castle.
Heroes are beings that cannot be predicted and must not be rashly judged.
The power of the Holy Swords they wield—its limits especially cannot be dared to be guessed.
But.
[I cannot... lose...!!]
He could not be defeated here.
Just as the Demon King had been defeated, he could not let the Demonfolk be seen losing to a Holy Sword Hero yet again.
Was it so he could boast that, unlike the Demon King, he had not been defeated?
No!
[My Demon King!! Are you watching?!]
Malphas screamed with the veins bulging in his throat.
Even as the flames burrowed into his beak and countless crow souls burned away to nothing, Malphas advanced toward the two—the man and woman—who had swung their swords.
[We! The Demon King Army! Will never lose to a mere Holy Sword!!]
This was an expression of will.
This was a cry of defiance.
[We can win again!!]
A final cry from a Demonfolk defying the absurdity of the Holy Sword.
[For the Great Demon King Belphegor!!]
Malphas reached forward.
His feathers had all burned away in the flames, his flesh had melted, and only bone remained—but even with only bone, he reached forward and attacked those who had swung their swords.
KABOOOOM!!
Malphas's hand bones struck the castle wall.
The knight and the witch dodged Malphas's hand and ran along the wall, and Malphas reached out with his other hand to block their path.
[I won't... let you escape...!!]
He might not have cared about the others, but he could not forgive these two.
Especially that witch—who countered the Demon King's tactics as if she held them in the palm of her hand and even rendered useless the single strike Malphas had spent ten years preparing—he could never forgive her.
SCREEEEEECH!!
He clung to the castle wall and flapped his wings.
He opened his beak to bite and crush the knight and witch. Though only bone remained and fire still burned across him, he used what muscle remained to reach out and pursue them.
Swish.
The knight leaped into the air with the witch, dodging the attack.
Malphas flapped his wings and rained feathers like arrows.
There was nowhere to flee in midair.
In just a moment, in the blink of an eye, black feathers would pierce like arrows and send up fountains of blood.
But.
The knight's eyes gleamed gold.
CLANG-CLANG-CLANG—!!
With a sword strike swung through the empty air, the feathers plummeted to the ground in an instant.
The Holy Flame burned away even the mana carried by the feathers, leaving the knight and witch without a single wound. Rather, they regarded him coldly and landed safely atop the wall.
A secret art!
Gale Thunderclap!!
The moment the knight landed, he vanished with a shout.
By the time the name of the technique the knight had shouted reached Malphas's ears, the joints of his wings had already been severed, and the crow wraiths clinging to his back had been hacked apart and extinguished.
SCREEEEEECH!!
Such overwhelming speed.
A speed even Malphas couldn't follow—this was not power passed on by the Flame Hero.
[You dare—against this Malphas!!]
That knight's own innate power.
A sense of déjà vu stirred, as if he had seen it somewhere before, but by then Malphas had almost no strength left.
[At least you—!!]
Crunch.
Malphas swallowed a section of the castle wall whole.
His beak blotted out the moonlight. The witch, swallowed along with the wall, simply walked slowly toward him.
[Hahaha! Even if I die, I'm taking you with me!!]
"...I'm sorry, but you're going to have to die here."
In that instant.
Malphas's heart dropped.
In the red eyes gazing at him, in the black energy that sank deep and still, Malphas felt as though the world had stopped.
Reconnaissance Crow Unit No. 379.
The moment the witch called him that.
The moment he was made to recall not Malphas, but the small crow who had stood atop the Demon King Army's wall five hundred years ago.
[Ah, aah...?]
Her lips moved, but Malphas saw it clearly.
Now... I suppose I should call you Malphas.
[Aah...!!]
Malphas saw.
"It's over."
The red-haired witch, who had found him precisely among the countless crow wraiths and aimed the tip of her staff at him.
In the shadow cast behind her, the black shadow he had longed for to the marrow of his bones.
"Sleep."
Flames gathered at the tip of the witch's staff.
The witch looked straight at Malphas and, with an apologetic face, slowly closed her eyes.
Your loyalty.
I will not forget.
I will remember your name.
[.......]
FWOOSH.
At the flame that reached his heart, Malphas quietly closed his eyes.
* * *
The battle was over.
Watching Malphas, the crow turning to ash in the Holy Flame, I found myself thinking many things.
A Demonfolk who challenges a Hero.
A Demonfolk who does not yield even to a Holy Sword.
A Demonfolk who does not retreat in the face of absurdity, but stands and fights with dignity.
...Yes, this is the Demon King Army.
Five hundred years ago, the one who never surrendered no matter the hardship or adversity, who wrung out every means and method to win—that was me, Belphegor, the Great Demon King of Terror.
The one who instilled in humans the terror that they could never win.
The existence who made them think praying to the goddess was useless.
What Malphas left behind as he burned was not merely the Mana Stone he left.
For a long time.
I felt as though something I had forgotten was catching fire.
"Master."
"Lucius."
The Hero approached.
The crystallization of absurdity, the master of the Holy Sword, approached.
"......."
Lucius took something from his chest and handed it to me.
It was a handkerchief of red cloth embroidered with gold, and I flinched in surprise at my own face reflected in his sword.
"...It's a misunderstanding."
I took the handkerchief and wiped the corners of my eyes.
"This is just mana overflowing. Mana this body can't handle right now entered me and leaked out. In the first place, there's no way an undead would shed tears."
Swish.
Lucius handed me his robe.
The brat's gaze was fixed on the sky, and I immediately understood why he was holding his head so high.
"...Hmph, as if I care."
As I took the Holy Flame into myself, more than half of my clothes had burned away.
The remaining scraps of cloth had vanished as I moved quickly in the middle of it all, and the Holy Flame was now covering my body, concealing only the important parts.
"Lucius."
"Yes, Master."
"...You did well."
Matters concerning the Holy Sword.
Matters concerning the Demonfolk.
Matters concerning the Demon King Army.
Those are problems to think about later.
"To bring down a Magic Beast like that without even releasing the Holy Sword. I suppose I can trust you with my back now."
"Are you saying you couldn't until now?"
"Obviously."
I draped the robe over myself and lightly tapped Lucius's head with my staff.
"The only ones who can stand behind me are those skilled enough that I can trust them with my back."
I'm not completely satisfied yet, but Lucius is more than trustworthy enough.
"......Slowly."
The darkness faded.
Dawn began to break.
"......You must be tired at dawn. Shall we go get some sleep?"
Tomorrow.
No.
From today onward, things will get harder.
For now.
I wanted to rest, just for a little while.
* * *
"Hmm. So the Flame Hero has appeared in Normance...."
The demon quietly twisted the corner of his lips.
"Well, still, compared to the Great Demon King, she's nothing."
Clink.
The demon, Zepar, held up a glass of blood-red wine, swirling it as he gazed beyond the glass wall.
"Ah, Great Demon King Belphegor. Where might you be...?"
Sip.
"This fine, magnificent body of yours is right here."
Beyond the glass wall.
In the darkness, a black dragon slept quietly, its entire body bound in white chains.
Simply.
Quietly.