The Black Death (5)
The Black Death (5)
The uppermost level of the squat iron tower stood barely 340 stories high.
At the very peak of this top level, where the loftiest spire reached its apex, a great door materialized. An iron gate laced with cobalt, nickel, and a trace of lime stood with its maw wide open, welcoming guests.
Beyond the iron door lay a round table. Rosemary and Blanton moved toward the nine thrones arrayed around it. Duke Blanton seated himself relatively close to the entrance; Rosemary settled into a throne farther in, leaning her back against it.
Those who took these seats were the beings who represented the highest heaven, the Nine Heavens. Only Extinction-class entities qualified to sit upon these thrones and enjoy councils and refreshments.
The ultimate purpose for which the Extinction-class gathered here was a single cause: to resurrect their king.
To the people of the Arens Continent, the magic beasts who held such a purpose were called this.
The Great Machines of the Nine Heavens.
"One, two, three... Attendance is low."
"Can't be helped, can it? Three of them are too huge to even get here."
"If you knew that, why did we bother setting chairs out for them?"
"It's the thought, just the thought. They're probably working hard right now, so we ought to save them some face. Otherwise they'll sulk."
Not all Extinction-class magic beasts could assume Human Form. Some among them possessed bodies measured in kilometers. The moment those ones left the heart of the Demon Continent, they would inevitably expose themselves to the enemy's surveillance net, so dreaming of coming to a place like this was out of the question—even relocating required the use of a Teleportation Circle.
By comparison, the Humanoid Types had it far better. Their frames were small, and they resembled humans. The probability of being discovered was markedly lower than for non-humanoid magic beasts.
Among the Extinction-class who wielded Human Form, not a single individual had yet been exposed. Jack Blanton, ranked 7th Seat, was one. Rosemary, ranked 4th Seat, was another. Historically, every Human-Form magic beast that had been unmasked was Calamity-class.
"So. It's been a while since we were summoned. What's the reason you called us?"
A lollipop jutting from her mouth, Rosemary let her gaze sweep the chamber.
"Me and the 7th Seat are here... The tower's owner is here, naturally. Then there's the 2nd Seat sis and that 5th-Seat crow-beak, too. Five out of ten total? Good heavens, that's fifty percent attendance!"
"That is not a large number."
"Nah, nah, this is plenty! It's hard enough just to see everyone's faces once, right?"
Blanton and Jormungand were in the middle of their exchange when a voice sounded from deeper within.
"Given today's agenda, it's not many at all, Rosemary."
The throne where the second-highest in rank sat. From atop that throne, a white-haired girl who had been puffing on a Mana Cigarette spoke up in a flat tone.
She had convened this council. The commander of the Second Corps had issued the summons, and magic beasts of lower rank were obligated to obey.
Of course, those who were physically too large to attend were given consideration. The higher-ranked First Seat was likewise exempt from the 2nd Seat's summons.
All eyes fixed on the white-haired girl. The timing was perfect to bring up the council's topic.
"Everyone already knows, right? The 2nd Defense Line was breached the day before yesterday."
Boom!
A heavy sound erupted from the seat right beside her. The table shook. Several lead bullets clattered down onto its surface. Rosemary, who was sitting next to her, picked up one of the lead bullets that had landed on the table and crunched it apart between her teeth.
A moment of silence.
"...Is that true?"
"Ah, compatriots out of sync this badly would be useless, wouldn't they? Your Third Corps covers the north—how do you not know about this?"
"I received no reports while relocating the tower to its original position. Besides, my corps prefers a mission-type command structure."
"Fine, fine."
The white-haired girl waved her hand dismissively and steered the conversation back on course.
"The human brats crossing the 2nd Defense Line is a matter of grave importance."
"What is the reason? They're not spirits—how could those insects set foot on our land?"
"That is because of Flare."
Blanton, who had been sitting quietly, answered the 5th Seat's question in their stead. When the 5th Seat tilted his head askew to signal he didn't understand, Rosemary began elaborating.
"Not long ago, a Flare Scroll was completed at the academy. And the bitch who made it... Actually, let's skip the sensitive stuff. Anyway, it looks like the production method got released for free and the human bastards are just churning the things out en masse. No need to even look—the Third Corps's underlings are dropping left and right because of Flare. At this rate, we won't be safe either."
"Rosemary, your problem is that you're too timid. You've risen as high as the 4th Seat—can you truly fear Magic Arts made by mere humans?"
"Unlike someone with a Vulcan cannon for a head stomping around in slab armor, I'm not built like that. A frail young girl like me, if I get hit by that stuff, my body won't hold up."
Rosemary's playful banter made the table shake again. More lead bullets than before clinked and clattered down. The 2nd Seat sighed and swept the bullets that were about to roll off the table's edge back toward herself. It seemed she had to push the discussion forward quickly.
"So, here's the thing. Since the north is being pushed back, we need a compatriot to stir up trouble inside the Empire. I was thinking, how about the 4th and 7th Seats who are already infiltrated move for us?"
"No. We're busy too."
Rosemary waved her hands in refusal. Blanton also nodded as he stroked his beard, signaling his agreement with Rosemary's refusal.
"I've received word that the Wind's Lodestone will soon be transferred to Tillet. Until we secure the lodestone, neither of us will cause any major incidents at the Imperial Palace."
"Then you two are out. The Third Corps stays here to guard the tower, so they're out. Ah, and I have to infiltrate the elf territories the moment this council ends... That leaves only one corps commander, then?"
Including the white-haired girl, the attendees' gazes naturally turned in one direction. There sat a man wearing a mask shaped like a crow's beak.
A black mask, black bowler hat, black robe, even black gloves. A man armed head-to-toe in pitch-black attire. If decay and plague were to take human shape, this was the image they would assume.
"5th Seat. I'm entrusting this task entirely to your corps. Do not let the humans detect you. Burn the Capital City to ash."
"...No helping it, then."
The sacrificial lamb for the group project had been chosen. As he adjusted his mask, the scent of herbs leaked from the gap. Hints of cinnamon, ginger, Mana Cigarettes, and sundry other fragrances seemed to be blended in.
When he exhaled, something began to writhe within the folds of his robe. Soon, all manner of grotesque entities came slithering out from around the 5th Corps commander's body.
Centipedes and snakes, giant crane flies and spiders. All kinds of hideous things tangled together, passing in and out of the space around the man's body as freely as if it were their own living room. They were not living creatures; every one was a steel imitation.
In the Demon King's army, there was only one technician capable of commanding such vermin at will.
The Great Machines of the Nine Heavens, 5th Seat. Corps commander of the magic beasts who preside over plague and the final hour.
"Well then. Will the Black Death suffice?"
Entero Colitica, the 'Plague Demon'.
**
"Alright. We'll hold out with plague until Rosemary and Jack execute that operation. I'll lend you the Second Corps, so 3rd Seat, drive the humans back to the First Island Defense Line if possible. That concludes the council."
"Roger."
"Anything else? I'm really leaving?"
Boom! Boom! Kaboom!
"...What's going on?"
With a thunderous burst, the iron tower shook side to side. Asbestos and iron powder rained from the ceiling, littering the council table.
"It seems we were struck by something from outside. Likely the human scum..."
"Don't tell me. You permitted an enemy incursion all the way here?"
"Are you trying to say the 3rd Defense Line has been breached? Don't make me laugh. If that's true, the Demon King's army's reputation has been hurled face-first into the dirt."
"You pedigree-less woodpecker bastards... You sure love running your mouths."
They all glanced at each other. Someone had to go outside and assess the situation. Yet none of them showed the slightest inclination to volunteer.
Not because they were weak. They simply loathed the thought of showing their bare faces before humans.
Boom, boom, boom, boom!
Time was running short. The counterweight at the tower's core heaved in great sweeping pendulations.
Even if one dressed up as human as possible and went out, it would be useless. This was the 3rd Defense Line—under normal circumstances, a place no human could survive. And if a being who looked human just happened to be here? It would be an unconditional exposure of a Human-Form magic beast.
Even so, one of the corps commanders had to be chosen. The white-haired girl rapidly issued an order.
"Rosemary and Jack, you stay. If you show your faces to the enemy and they catch on, it'll set the plan back decades. Oh, and the 3rd Seat is in a position where he has to keep producing magic beasts inside the tower, so he should stay put if possible... Let's see now. The Plague Doctor wears a mask when he goes around, so he might be alright."
"You're telling me to handle two jobs at once? I am no brawler."
"Ha. This really isn't a joke."
The other magic beasts glared at the girl. Their expressions unanimously said, 'If you don't like it, then you go.' In the end, she had to rise from her seat herself.
"I'll go, you half-wits."
The tower continued to crumble. The tower's owner was absorbed with repairs.
Taking the stairs one by one would cost too much time. The girl threw open a spire window and hurled her body down through it. The acceleration of gravity drew her faster and faster, but from a certain point, her velocity gradually diminished until she achieved a stable landing on the ground.
Crushing the snow beneath her feet, the girl drew a telescope from her coat and surveyed her surroundings.
Humans. Hundreds of them, approaching the tower as if in flight. And they'd lathered themselves in every conceivable buff spell.
The sight matched the spectacle of their king's invasion of the Spirit Realm a thousand years ago. The corner of the girl's mouth twitched into a scoff.
"Do you have any idea where you are..."
That was the moment a cluster of light streaked past her cheek. A sound like "shwiek" registered, and the girl failed to react in time.
"......."
Her right cheek burned. Intense heat lingered where the beam had raked across. She brushed the spot gingerly; something viscous met her touch.
A black substance came off on her palm. Tar, petroleum, and other assorted black-hued matter. When was the last time she had shed blood?
She couldn't remember. So she grew angry.
The white-haired girl bit down on her lower lip and stuck a Mana Cigarette between her teeth.
Midnight, and a fierce blizzard raged. Perhaps because this was the polar region, she could still observe the enemy forces.
The enemy numbered slightly over three hundred. A suicide squad composed of veterans, by the look of it.
The girl fixed her gaze on the closest among them.
Blazing red eyes approaching through the dark as if intent on illuminating it. Golden hair, flaunting its presence even with snow powder clinging to it, streamed in the knifelike wind.
A woman was approaching her, brandishing a staff that blazed at 1,500 degrees Celsius. Her impeccably tailored military uniform bore three chrysanthemums at various points—the very symbol of the Philiut Empire.
It was a face the girl knew.
"...I believe I told her time and time again, no matter what happens, not to come all the way here."
And so she failed to manage her expression. The girl's face contorted into a deep scowl as she met the approaching enemy.
─ Commander! I see a girl in front of the Magic Tower!
─ Be careful! It could be a Human-Type Demon!
─ Th-that... Could she be from the Gold-Eye Tribe?
"Ah, right. I forgot to wear my Color-changing Filter."
The girl touched the area around her eyes and let her expression relax again.
"Well, what does it matter."
Now that they had come this far, not a single one of them would return alive.
─ She's Gold-Eye Tribe—shouldn't we capture her alive or render aid?
─ What soft nonsense are you spouting! Everything that lives here is a magic beast! Strike!!
Barely two hundred meters remained. The enemy's spells loaded one after another.
Scrolls activated. Clusters of light composing Flare tore through the Magic Paper and poured toward her. Their design was to collapse the girl and the iron tower directly behind her in a single stroke.
Not a chance.
The girl rattled her lead bullets and lit her Mana Cigarette. The pungent scent of mana made a circuit through her circulatory system. The sensation of fleetingly reclaiming a power stolen by the Goddess long ago was indescribably electrifying.
Countless Flares hurtling toward her.
Gazing at those Flares, the girl began her Incantation.
[Advanced Lightning Magic - Railgun]