A Witch's Legacy
Rielia must have heard Carmel's words just now. That if she lost to the curse, she would die. No, perhaps she had known it from the very beginning. Even so, Rielia had not given up. There was no despair, not even fear left in her. I gripped the Holy Sword Drald tightly with both hands and shouted.
"Rielia! What should I do? Tell me! How do I use the Holy Sword?!"
"Soon... once my strength is entirely spent, the curse will consume my body. At that exact moment, please pierce me with that Holy Sword."
"...What?"
I hadn't misheard her. She was telling me to stab the Saintess herself?
"Ah, is that the Holy Sword's effect? The kind that leaves the human body unharmed and only destroys the curse... something like that?"
"No. It possesses the power of purification, but it is very much a physical blade. If you pierce me... I will die along with the curse."
"Then why on earth...!"
"This is the only way. This curse is far too powerful. The moment it weakens after I pour out every last drop of my divine power—in that single, fleeting instant, you must deliver the finishing blow with Drald. This was the only plan worth trying."
Dumbfounded, I screamed at her.
"You call that... a plan?! If you had told me beforehand, I would have never allowed it! I would have snapped this useless sword in half right then and there!"
"It is already too late, Princess. There is no turning back now. Whether you use the Holy Sword or not, I will be consumed by the curse and die. Truly... I have barely any time left to hold it back."
So this was the reason behind Rielia's strange behavior before we entered the room. From the very beginning, the Saintess knew she couldn't defeat Mistylia. That was why she created a situation from which I couldn't escape, and then thrust this choice upon me.
Even if I didn't use the Holy Sword, she would die. To prevent her sacrifice from being in vain, I had to stab her myself. What an utterly absurd, irrational choice.
"I refuse!"
"Ugh... Princess, you idiot...! Don't you understand? Please, think rationally!"
"You're the idiot here! How dare you decide this on your own, just like that...!"
Carmel watched us with an expression that suggested she was about to yawn.
"What are you two even doing?"
It seemed we wouldn't be given much time to argue. Before we knew it, the black mana had penetrated the light of her divine power, staining Rielia's hands a deep, pitch black. Rielia spoke in a calm, steady voice.
"Please listen to me, Princess. The moment I first laid eyes on the Queen, I felt it instantly. The reason I was granted this power of purification was to eradicate this curse from Rustier. This is a Saintess's intuition—no, it is closer to a revelation bestowed by the Goddess. This is the destiny I must follow. So please, I beg of you. Stab me!"
The curse laid upon Rustier. The ancient curse that manipulated Carmel, a villainess of unprecedented malice, to drive Rustier to ruin. That was Mistylia. Perhaps Rielia's extraordinarily powerful divine energy really had been granted to her to oppose it. Even if, in the end, it fell just a bit short.
But I didn't give a damn about any of that.
"Wait! Wh-Where are you going, Princess?!"
I strode not toward Rielia, but toward Mistylia. I waded through the waves of black mana that rose to my knees. As I drew the blade from its scabbard, the silver edge of Drald flashed. I wasn't accustomed to handling swords, but a short sword of this size shouldn't be too difficult to manage.
There were three main ways to dispel a curse. The first was to envelop and purify it with a divine power that completely overwhelmed the curse. But if even the Saintess's power couldn't manage it, that option was out of the question. It was time to try another method.
I gripped Drald with both hands and raised it high. The physical medium of Mistylia was nothing more than a wooden branch. Bringing the blade down to shatter it would be a simple task.
"No, Princess! You'll die if you do that!"
Rielia's voice rang out like a scream. Her expression was far more desperate now than when she had begged me to stab her. Carmel, too, had suddenly bolted upright and was staring in my direction.
"Sera, are you completely out of your mind? If you destroy the medium of a curse, that curse will target the destroyer! In the worst-case scenario, you might become a living curse yourself!"
"You seem quite panicked, Mother. Of course I know such basic facts. But we won't know for sure until we try, will we?"
"Don't be foolish! Do you think such bluffing will work against a curse?"
"It's not a bluff. Do you really think I can't endure a curse that even you managed to survive, Mother? I am... already prepared."
That was half a lie. To be honest, I was terrified. Right now, I could see it clearly. Mistylia, revealing its true form, was shrouded in a black mana as deep as the abyss. It looked like a pitch-black storm cloud. If something like that flowed into my body... an instinctive dread welled up inside me.
But it was infinitely better than plunging a blade into Rielia's chest with my own hands. I tightened my grip on Drald, fully intending to strike. In that instant, another desperate voice cried out.
"Stop! I said stop, Sera!"
Carmel scrambled off the bed and struggled toward me. The black mana seemed to be affecting her as well, making her movements look incredibly labored.
"I am going to do it. If you want to stop me... dispel the curse, Mother."
The third way to lift a curse. If you are the one who cast it, you can dispel it yourself. Though we still didn't know if Carmel was the one who had actually created Mistylia.
Carmel shook her head violently.
"I can't! I can't do it... This is a curse passed down from long before I was even born... It's utterly impossible for me, too...!"
I see. Then there was only one way left. I drove Drald straight down into Mistylia in a single, swift motion.
Crack! The impact reverberated through my hands. In that instant, the dense black mana blanketing the room coalesced and began to swirl violently. Though there was no sound, it felt as if a living creature was howling in agony.
Immediately after, the black mana lunged at me. Feeling the horrifying sensation of the pitch-black darkness clinging to my entire body, I lost consciousness.
"Enekra."
When I called her name, the black witch spun around to face me with terrifying speed.
"Rustier?"
I was indeed a Rustier. But Enekra's face fell with deep disappointment.
"It is you, child of Rustier."
It seemed she remembered our encounter from back then. If so, perhaps this wasn't just a dream.
"Why are you cursing Rustier?"
The black witch stared at me with a chilling gaze.
"You dare ask me that? I sacrificed everything for Rustier! Yet Rustier remembers nothing—absolutely nothing! Ahahaha, ahahahahaha! How glad I am that I left a curse behind! Go to ruin, Rustier!"
Enekra trembled, consumed by her wild, manic laughter. Yet, looking at her, I felt an inexplicable sorrow.
"When you say 'Rustier'—the one you wanted to remember you—who exactly do you mean?"
Rustier was the name of the kingdom, but it was also the royal family's surname. Whenever Enekra spoke the name 'Rustier,' it had always sounded to me as if she were referring to a specific individual.
Just as quickly as it had spread, the manic laughter vanished from Enekra's face. Returning to her initial, somber expression, she spat out a single name.
"Luke Ryustie."
Luke Ryustie. The first king, the founder who established the kingdom. I calmly asked again.
"Did you love him?"
A tempest of emotions instantly erupted across Enekra's face. Rage, betrayal, hatred, and sorrow. The answer that finally escaped her lips was incredibly brief.
"Yes."
A witch who loved a king... Somehow, it was a story whose ending was all too easy to imagine.
Enekra began to speak, her voice dropping to a murmur.
"I gave everything for him. My magic, my curses! I devoted myself solely to his desires! But he... once he became king, he betrayed me. Not only did he exile me to the cold, lonely north, but he even sent soldiers to hunt me down. Heheh, hihi, ehehehehe! Curse... curse Rustier!"
I had never read anywhere that a witch had aided the founding of the Rustier Kingdom. Of course, if Luke Ryustie truly had betrayed Enekra, he likely erased every single record of her existence.
"So that is why you created Mistylia."
"Yes. It is my masterpiece. I ground up the flesh and minds of the countless soldiers sent to kill me and offered them all as a sacrifice! Completed with my tears and hatred, the master of all things black, Enekra's greatest curse! Rustier can never escape it! As long as my descendants remain, as long as Rustier shamelessly lives on! Ahahahahaha!"
Thrusting her fist high into the air as she shrieked in excitement, Enekra was clearly not in her right mind. But as her feverish laughter rang out, she suddenly seemed to realize something and stared at me with a startled expression.
"Wait... You... Don't tell me..."
Looking into Enekra's trembling eyes, I spoke calmly.
"Yes. I broke Mistylia."