The Black Death (11)
The Black Death (11)
The man in the iron-beaked mask.
He began to speak as he approached.
"This world is rife with malignant tumors."
What the hand light illuminated was no human. A towering figure nearly three meters tall, far too tall and gaunt to be called a man. Yet every part of his body from head to toe was wrapped in black cloth, making his true build impossible to determine.
A shudder ran through me at that overwhelming height, but that wasn't the real problem.
"Humans, elves, the few beastfolk who do not follow us, and the most abominable spirits of all... It is my duty to excise and sterilize them all, and His Majesty's command."
What the hell was this bastard on about?
His sudden recitation was harder to follow than classical poetry. He was definitely using the same language, yet I could barely grasp what he was trying to say.
Sensing danger by instinct, I leveled the tip of my staff at him.
Only a few meters remained until he entered my effective range. If it truly came to that, I intended to drive the end of my calipers straight between his goggles.
But that plan had to remain a thought. Because Vermel tugged at my sleeve again.
"Don't provoke him."
Only then did I realize the man before me was a magic beast of Calamity-class or higher.
Every magic beast I had seen until now was animalistic. There had been no humanoid types. Even Homarus, the sole Calamity-class I had encountered, took the form of a scorpion.
I'd come across a magic beast that spoke human speech during the entrance ceremony, but I hadn't laid eyes on that one directly. This was likely the first humanoid magic beast I had ever met face-to-face.
"That there exist compatriots blind to the great cause of purifying and rebuilding the continent—how can this be anything but lamentable?"
The man continued to string together incomprehensible words.
He stretched out both arms. The sleeves of his tattered robe dropped, tracing catenary curves. Half-congealed wax dripped from his wrists. Black centipedes skittered across his arms with a rustling, chittering sound.
"However, I do not treat those who share my bloodline cruelly. The Goddess may claim all creation is born equal, but our race is more equal than any other."
I ignored the man rattling off nonsense and gestured for Vermel to lend me an ear.
"Who's he?"
"Entero Colitica, an Extinction-class. He's the one behind this whole situation."
"Does he know you?"
The man craned his neck forward.
"I have never shown myself before the human tribe, so from where has information leaked that one should know of me?"
"I have no obligation to tell you."
Well, that's what being a possessor gets you.
"No matter. I have bought sufficient time. While you all struggled to keep your wits about you through the plague, His Majesty's forces have won victory after victory in the north. Our objective is achieved, and I can find no reason to linger here any longer."
The bird-beaked masked man produced a long staff from subspace. Even at a rough estimate, it measured ten feet long.
"Besides, this is an underground waterway—a place without a single surveillance device, filled only with sewage and corpses. Would adding one or two drowning victims here so much as make your kin blink?"
Was he about to attack?
The rear was blocked by an iron door, and the enemy stood ahead of us. The passage ran in a straight line, offering no avenue of retreat.
If we fought, it would be a head-on battle.
Worse, our opponent was an Extinction-class magic beast. The kind of monster that even a swarm of the empire's top strategic-class mages couldn't bring down. Without Flare, I'd have had to pick out my own gravesite right there.
Statistically, the probability of victory was vanishingly low. To raise the odds of taking him down by even a fraction, I had to strike first. I readied a Flare Scroll for instant activation.
But the man's next words made my strength drain right out of me.
"Yes, I had intended to behead anyone who came face to face with me here. But, as it happens, this puts me in a slightly awkward position."
"......?"
"Shrewd elf. It seems you know far more than I anticipated. Had you not brought that girl along, your original fate was to draw your last breath right here."
What was that supposed to mean?
Vermel had been holding himself rigid ever since a moment ago. It was less likely that he was standing ramrod-straight from a lack of fear, and far more probable that he was just frozen stiff from terror.
It didn't make sense. That man had to know perfectly well that we were at a disadvantage in terms of combat strength. So why wasn't he trying to attack?
The question filled my head. But the situation wasn't right to ask the possessor right then.
Something about the atmosphere felt off.
It was the kind of mood where asking now would instantly brand me as a clueless moron. I kept my mouth shut and watched the situation closely.
The man swung his scythe-like staff. It wasn't an attack motion. The moment the movement ended, the banging that had been crashing against the iron door behind us ceased.
"An elf and one of the Gold-Eye Tribe. I come out for an excursion and witness something good. Consider it a gift in return for being allowed to leave with your lives, having seen my face."
Gulp. I heard an Adam's apple bob beside me.
"Still, do not forget that this affair is far from concluded. There will always be chances for those around you to be sent to the underworld. Ah, yes—it would do my pride no credit to simply walk away without a parting gift. Shall I leave you one?"
Those were his last words. The man vanished into the darkness in an instant, his eerie laughter trailing behind. Soon after, the glint of his glowing eyes disappeared as well.
Even when I shone the hand light, the bird-beaked mask was no longer visible. Only then did Vermel heave a sigh of relief loud enough to carry through the tunnel.
"We survived...."
His tone was like someone who had barely clawed back their original stake in a gamble. Vermel braced himself against the wall and retched several times.
I'd been tense too, but I hadn't stiffened up to that excessive degree. The sewer monster that had been chasing us earlier was frankly more terrifying. When I thought about it, his reaction made sense—he knew what was going to happen in the future. One thing was certain: the creature we had just faced was even more dangerous than I'd imagined.
By the time Vermel and I made it outside, the sun had already set. If I wanted to stick to my routine, I was going to have to pick up a broom.
The fatigue was unreal. Ah, hell and damnation.
**
─ SYSTEM : Current <Black Death> Trial progress: 90%.
─ SYSTEM : There are still no deaths from Black Death within the academy.
**
The situation was gradually improving. It seemed the possessor had been telling the truth.
After our encounter with the raven-beaked man, every indicator had trended downward. The amount of iron filings entering the trash bins shrank day by day, and spaces at the funeral parlor began to open up one by one.
Before long, the daily infection count had dropped to double digits. It had taken nearly a month.
"Incredible. I thought it would take at least six months."
In a typical epidemic scenario, it could have taken even longer than that. Back then, the frustration had been enough to drive me to death.
[Severe Combat Losses on the Northern Front]
[Imperial Army Retreats Once More to the First Defense Line]
Bad news was filtering in from outside, but the situation hadn't reached the point where I'd call it adding insult to injury. The fact that publishers had resumed newspaper printing was evidence that conditions in the capital were improving.
"How is Teacher Alex doing? I'd heard he's been using antibiotics daily...."
"Ah, he was discharged a little while ago."
"...That happened?"
Once you caught the Black Death in this world, you didn't recover. Even if you did, one or two limbs crumbled into iron dust and fell off on their own. The aftereffects of merely losing body parts would be catastrophic enough.
"He lost one leg, but apparently after that his immune system activated and he recovered on his own."
What kind of man is he?
"Either way, I'm relieved that things are wrapping up well. Classes should probably resume by early June."
Shadiel tapped me on the shoulder as if to say I'd worked hard. With that, every quarantine task I could do was finished.
That wasn't the only piece of good news. When I headed to the infirmary at Vermel's request, carrying yuzu fruit, the health and physical education teacher dropped that line out of nowhere.
"I think we'll be able to produce a cure soon."
She was an elf with two-tone hair by the name of Sepia Gliston. The infirmary where she resided smelled of medicine mingled with a citrusy fragrance—she probably wore perfume of that kind.
There was nothing left for me to do. I figured I could simply go back to my usual routine of magic and research, then return to my original world when the time came. And in the process, of course, I couldn't forget to keep my promise to Professor Herlein.
For better or worse, I had to admit I'd grown attached to this world. There were shitty people here, sure, but Earth had plenty of those too. Even just for people like Professor Herlein and Rote, a sense of responsibility had taken root: I should at least toss them one weapon capable of opposing the Demon King before I left.
[Switching to Administrator Mode.]
[□ New Research Entry: Development of Tokamak Plasma Confinement Device]
[□ New Research Entry: Heavy Water Reactor Development]
[Whoa. Isn't that a little too intense?]
It would still be easier than dealing with the plague. I'd been planning to tackle these around summer break anyway. From this point on, doing it alone would be tough, so I'd need to contact several labs.
[If you're building a hydrogen bomb, the first research topic alone will suffice. The heavy water reactor is fission-side theory. If you intend to use lasers as the primary trigger, you don't even need uranium or anything.]
I knew that. And that was the direction I'd meant to go in the first place.
Still, the reason I kept the heavy water reactor in the back of my mind was different....
"What're you doing?"
Tap. The person who cut through my thoughts was Rote.
At that moment, I was in the dormitory with the Hardcover Book open, writing in it. Normally I kept the Invisible Mode on so others couldn't see it, but just now I'd had no need for it and had left it off.
"A hardcover. Did you buy it?"
"Huh? Uh, yeah."
I'd had it forced on me.
Rote was the first person I'd ever shown the Goddess-given Hardcover Book to. She gave an "hmm" as she examined my notes, then swayed unsteadily and flopped down onto the bed. The sight of her looked somehow precarious.
"What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"
"No, just tired. I've barely slept lately, what with all the quarantine work."
Rote smiled brightly and told me she was fine and not to worry. It was a warm smile you'd never see from the textbook image of a traditional noble.
I would never be able to make an expression like that in my life.
Once I'd confirmed she had lain down, I turned back around. To flesh out the next piece of magic arts I'd be researching, I was going to have to wrack my brain for a while.
I was just about to pick up my pen and turn the page.
"Kuh, kuh-hack, ke-heok."
The sound of coughing came from behind me.