The Siege of Andrasi (2)

A mature man approached and bowed his head.

"My name is Rosrik Fairchild. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for saving my worthless son's life."

"The thanks should be mine. It was thanks to your son that I managed to keep my life at all."

I wasn't joking. If Kaldrik hadn't come to my aid in time, I would have died that day. And thanks to the inner core I earned by slaying that giant, I had risen firmly to the Avatar Realm.

"My son helped to a certain degree, I suppose, but hearing you say that, I worry he might grow far too full of himself."

"It wasn't a certain degree, Rosrik," I said, putting weight into my voice. "My only regret is that I can't steal your son away from the Fairchild people."

Wrinkles crinkled at the corners of Rosrik's eyes. So even this stubborn man couldn't help softening before praise of his child.

I walked back toward the duke's residence, talking further with Kaldrik along the way. Most of our conversation revolved around Rosrik's giant-hunting ability.

His Awoken Ability was called Giant Slayer, and its effect was as follows:

Put simply, it was an ability that let him hit harder the bigger his enemy was.

He had used it since his youth to bring down a number of giants. However, after mistakenly consuming a mana orb and falling into overflow, he had been unable to help when the flame giant appeared in Fairchild territory.

"Fighting in an overflow state must be difficult, though."

"He has recovered a great deal of his health. On top of that, his insight has deepened, and his Awoken Ability has evolved a stage further."

"Into what?"

"Legend Slayer. The greater the gap in mana between him and his target, the greater the damage he deals, apparently."

He grows stronger the wider the mana gap? Isn't that just... the perfect ability for an overflow state?

"He really could make a name for himself."

Kaldrik smiled quietly.

Rosrik was currently in overflow, without so much as an ant's worth of mana to his name. If a man like that could somehow still deal damage to a giant, it might unfold into a spectacle truly worthy of being retold ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as legend.

After escorting the Fairchild father and son back to their camp, I stopped by the forge for a moment. When I explained everything, Ruka listened and spoke with evident interest.

"Fascinating. A man with not a single scrap of mana, yet if his Awoken Ability's conditions are met, he can produce the power to topple an opponent far stronger than himself."

"That's right."

"Then we simply give him a ranged weapon. He can hardly fight up close with a body that has no mana."

"What about a crossbow?"

Ruka's eyes gleamed.

"Good thinking. Someone else can reload a crossbow for him, so we'll be able to raise its power without restraint."

He picked up a pen and began sketching on paper with almost supernatural speed. Looking at the draft, I noticed something strange.

"Uncle."

"What?"

"That's not a crossbow. That's a ballista."

"It's a crossbow. Just a little on the large side."

It was less "a little large" and more comparable to a proper siege engine. Would that monstrous weapon even need an Awoken Ability to bring down a giant?

"If you're willing, why not come to Andrasi and coordinate with Rosrik directly? If we're going to hold the walls, repelling the giants will be the most important thing."

"I was planning to follow you anyway. I need to gather materials for your armor while I'm at it."

Ruka gathered up his sketches and stood, then tossed out a remark with careless ease.

"Redglint."

"Pardon?"

"The flower your mother loved."

"...I see."

"Next time you have occasion to visit the Demonic Realm, bring one back for me."

Ruka patted my shoulder. Lucian's words came back to me — how Ruka left flowers picked from the Demonic Realm at my mother's grave every year.

"Yes. I won't forget."

I carved the name Redglint into my memory. Only a handful of people remained who still mourned the woman called Ophelia Rain.

I wanted to set aside a day someday and talk with Ruka about my mother. Even something small, like today, would do. As long as I could hear stories about her, I thought anything would be worth hearing.

I parted ways with Ruka and returned to my office, where the fake Count Abaro was waiting for me.

"I'm back, Master."

The count had transformed in the blink of an eye into a blue-haired, pretty-faced young man. It was flawless work — shapeshifting of the highest caliber.

"How did things go?"

Laszlo had just returned from Count Abaro's domain, where he had gone to rescue the people the count had abused.

"I did everything as you instructed. I disbanded the knight order, settled the estate and assets, and divided them among the victims."

"Well done."

Count Abaro was currently wandering the maze of my formation. At most, he'd find his way out within a year — and when he did and returned to his own territory, he would faint from shock.

Dividing up the estate had been entirely Laszlo's idea. I couldn't very well force a man to hand out his own inheritance.

"Though there were some who didn't understand at all what was happening."

"They didn't understand? How so?"

"No matter how plainly I explained, they didn't want to leave my father's... Count Abaro's side. One of the children won't stop trailing behind me even now, even after I dropped the disguise."

"Is that so?"

Just then, a small child of about eight slipped quietly out from the back of the office. The boy approached Laszlo and clutched his sleeve. He was as gaunt as Laszlo had been during his entrance trial, his skin dead and rough as parchment.

"So... I have a request for you, Master," Laszlo said hesitantly. "If you would permit it, I would like to keep this child by my side. Just as you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠saved me, I want to be of help to someone too... and I feel the sins committed in the name of House Abaro are mine to answer for..."

"I see no reason not to."

"Truly?"

Laszlo's face brightened.

"Well, what can I do if he insists on following you everywhere? But don't even think about taking him to Andrasi. Explain the situation to the head maid, and she'll look after him well."

"Understood! I'll speak with her right away!"

Laszlo took the boy's hand and hurried out of the office. His steps were so light that anyone watching would have assumed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he'd just been given permission to marry.

The day of departure dawned. I worked at my desk in the office until sunrise. There was no one I could trust to run the territory in my absence, so my stubborn resolve was to squeeze in as much work as I could before leaving.

The first to find me that morning was Lily. She opened the office door, spotted me seated at the desk, and jumped in alarm.

"Young master, don't tell me you've been up all night?"

"I couldn't fall asleep no matter what."

"You should have forced yourself to rest. You have something enormous ahead of you — what if you make a mistake because you're worn out?"

"I'm fine. Besides, you're hardly in a position to nag me, are you? The circles under your eyes are pitch black."

"Th-that's just... shadowing, that's all."

Lily scrambled to cover her face. The woman who had always been so immaculately composed looked an absolute wreck these days.

I understood, though. Father was lying flat on his back, and the boy she'd raised from the day he was in diapers was not only causing trouble daily but now marching off to war besides.

After changing my clothes, I finished breakfast with Lily's help. Everything happened in the space of a single lightning flash. The hour of departing for the battlefield was closing in on us moment by moment.

"Take this."

Before mounting her own horse, she handed me a small pouch decorated with embroidery.

"I bought it at the market two days ago."

"What is it?"

"A lucky stone. They say if you carry it against your chest, arrows will miss you."

"..."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

I managed my expression with due solemnity. What mattered was not the utility but the heart behind it. She had chosen this thing with a mother's worry for her son.

And who was to say whether some miraculous Awoken Ability might not dwell within this humble little pouch? This world was mysterious and unfathomable enough that even I, a Daoist, could hardly presume to measure it.

"Thank you, Lily."

"You do know your birthday is in ten days, don't you?"

"Is it that close already?"

"It is. All children grow up in the blink of an eye. Though you're still young, young master."

Lily smiled brightly.

"This year it can't be helped, but next year I'll lay out a proper birthday table for you, no matter what."

It meant: come back alive. I pulled hard on the reins and shouted with spirit.

"Let's go!"

Together with the knights of Frost, I rode toward the North Gate. Outside it, an army of thirty thousand stood arrayed in flawless formation, as if measured with a ruler.

"Lord Iden!"

Vitten came tearing over, his red beard flying — then flinched and jumped back.

"Why in the world have you brought that cursed cat?"

"You said even if it killed you, you couldn't take it. So what was I supposed to do? Someone had to."

Hellcat was circling above my left shoulder. The beast wouldn't spare me so much as a glance, yet somehow it always obeyed when I told it to follow.

A tall platform had been erected before the soldiers. At its foot stood Varga, the defensive commander, waiting for me.

"You've come."

Varga placed a hand over his chest in a military salute.

"We are ready to depart. The soldiers' morale is high."

From atop the platform, I could see the soldiers' faces clearly. They were decidedly not the faces of men marching off to die.

And in truth, morale could hardly have been higher. The duke, the very symbol of invincibility, had fallen, and Stormrock, the fortress said to be impregnable, had been taken.

The duke's heirs did nothing but squabble amongst themselves, and the enemy was the Demon Duke, whom the Empire's long history had seen them face exactly once.

On top of that, investigators had been dispatched in the Emperor's name to look into House Esterzy itself.

For them to come here, of their own will, to help me under conditions like these could only mean one thing: they had reason to believe they could overturn everything that had come before.

"Demon Slayer!"

Someone cried out at the top of his lungs.

"Iden Esterzy!"

Thirty thousand soldiers roared my name as one.

Thrum — thrum — thrum — thrum —

The great drummers began to pound their instruments. The banner of Esterzy fluttered over the platform, and hanging from it were the torso and head of the demon count, Grimscale.

Now it was unmistakable. I had seen those same eyes only days ago — the exalted look of men beholding a being that transcended humanity.

Yes... this was not something confined to Silba. Being captivated by a hero was simply human instinct.

In their imaginations, I was victory itself — guaranteed and absolute.

And to the potential traitor who might be lurking in this crowd, I would no doubt be an insurmountable wall of adversity.

Then I had to show them a sight worthy of their expectations. I hurled the ruby from my right shoulder into the open air.

Mana whipped about like a storm, and a colossal magma dragon revealed itself. A deep, resonating roar shook the plain. Ruby's body length was now approaching twenty meters. He was large enough to be called a near-adult with nothing lacking.

"Bring it here."

At my signal, Varga gestured to his men. A dozen soldiers trudged out, laboring under the weight of an enormous structure forged from oradium.

The item I had bought from Dris Trading Company's fine goods hall was at last fitted onto Ruby's back. I stepped through the empty air and settled lightly into the saddle.

That was the moment. A strange feeling seized me. The landscape seen from high atop Ruby's back... from this vantage point overlooking tens of thousands of troops, I found myself certain, somehow, that I had found the place where I was meant to be.