The Chaos Spirits
Gustav, leader of Death Symphony, soared into the sky astride a dragon and looked down upon the continent spread out beneath him like a map. A faint smile touched his lips.
"Ahh— humans really are no better than insects."
He urged the undead dragon beneath him — the Dead Eyes Zombie Dragon — higher still, climbing toward the heavens. Not only had he claimed a perfectly intact dragon corpse, but he had succeeded in transforming it into a flawless undead dragon besides—
In that moment, a thrill raced from the tips of Gustav's toes all the way through his body, and he climaxed roughly five times over. He wished this sensation could last forever. He wished time itself would freeze right here, right now.
"I could die happy like this…!"
And then a razor-sharp blade of sword energy carved straight through the undead dragon — and through him.
"—Huh?"
The undead dragon's body split cleanly left and right. Gustav, who had been riding atop it, lost his lift and scrambled desperately to keep his balance on the plummeting carcass.
"Wh-what!?"
He chanted dark magic at breakneck speed, forcing the severed halves of the undead dragon back together even as he cast a levitation spell. He layered a defensive shield around the dragon's body, then summoned ghosts to identify whoever had dared attack him.
Having chanted a crushing number of spells in a single instant, Gustav frowned slightly and peered down toward the ground from which the sword energy had come.
A little brat stood there, holding a single sword.
"You— you—! How dare you lay a hand on my precious Dead Eyes Zombie Dragon—!"
Gustav spat out the name as if it were nothing, then drew his staff and hurled a curse at the child on the ground.
"Die—! You damned brat!"
His curse streaked down like a bolt of lightning — an instant-death hex that stopped the heart of anyone it touched. It was powerful, swift, and inescapable even for the finest of knights — and yet the sword-wielding brat casually swung his blade and cut the curse clean in half.
It looked for all the world as though he had swatted aside a bolt of lightning falling from the sky. Gustav froze, struggling to process what he had just witnessed.
"No — no, what even is that…"
The moment his experience as leader of Death Symphony screamed that something was terribly wrong, the brat swung his sword again.
The sword energy that erupted from the blade swept straight through the magical barrier Gustav had raised. A barrier of formidable power split cleanly in two from that single stroke. Watching it happen, Gustav finally understood that this was no ordinary child.
"Him. It's him."
The one who had slain the dragon and left its corpse in this county. He had wondered who on earth could have killed a dragon — a feat said to be nearly impossible…!
"Damn it, nobody told me a monster like that existed."
Gustav cursed someone under his breath and bit down hard on his lip. Whether he had been warned about this monstrous brat or not no longer mattered. What mattered right now was his own life. Dragon corpse or no dragon corpse — if he died, it was all for nothing.
"This is an order from your leader—!"
The instant that realization hit him, Gustav amplified his voice with magic and broadcast it far and wide, so that every member of Death Symphony scattered across the county would hear.
"Sing the final funeral dirge—!"
"Gentlemen, I love war."
"And I love even more dropping those who think they have the upper hand."
"—What."
Grinning, a Spirit of War materialized behind the guild leader and shoved him squarely in the back.
A mischievous fairy that appeared in the thick of battle to play its little pranks. People called them Spirits of Chaos.
Caught by the trolling, the guild leader plummeted toward the ground.
Fortunately, he managed to cast a spell before impact and land safely enough.
"Hello. I'm the owner of that corpse."
But waiting for him on the ground was a monster far more terrifying than any fairy.
The moment Evan spotted the dragon soaring through the sky — the moment Death Symphony's requiem ended and the curse was lifted — the Spirits of War realized the curse polluting them had vanished and poured onto the battlefield. Their purpose was singular: chaos.
They pitted people against each other. The moment one side looked ready to win, they helped the losers. The moment the losers looked ready to turn the tide, they switched sides again and tormented the other party. Their only goal was war itself, and the delight they took in the process.
There were times, however, when the Spirits of War threw their full support behind a single side: when the outcome was so lopsided that victory was already plain to see. There was no fun in backing a side doomed to lose. So the spirits immediately latched onto the winners and tormented the losers.
And right now, as far as the spirits could tell — every single person present combined was overwhelmingly outmatched by Evan alone.
"Ack—! A s-spirit? Why is a spirit…"
"What are you doing!? Look at the Leader! Look at him riding that dragon! Why are you attacking us— gyaaaah—!"
Unaware of any of this, the members of Death Symphony and the Gold Hyena mercenaries fighting them both came under attack from the spirits at once. Thanks to that, Evan was free to focus entirely on the dragon circling overhead — and the single guild leader riding it.
"—Damn it, damn it— damn it!"
Evan tilted his head as he watched the guild leader drop to the ground all by himself. He had swung his sword once to put a little fear into the man, so maybe the guy had come down to talk?
So he offered a greeting.
"Hello. I'm the owner of that corpse."
But the corpse thief didn't answer. He just stood there quietly chewing his lip. Evan wondered if he was the type who couldn't talk to people — like Canelly — and was about to approach slowly when Canelly shrieked from behind him.
"W-watch out—!"
"—And so return unto death, and become the flower of the three paths!"
The guild leader finished his chant so quickly it was barely audible, and smoke billowed from the tip of his staff. Evan instinctively knew that inhaling that smoke would be dangerous. He clapped one hand over his mouth and stepped back — and the guild leader burst into roaring laughter, as if that was exactly what he had expected.
"Hahaha—! Yes! Monster who slew a dragon or not — at best you're just an ignorant swordsman! Before the greatness of knowledge, you can't do a thi—"
"Oh. So you didn't come to talk."
Evan flicked his sword. The sword energy punched straight through the smoke and sliced through the guild leader's neck. A magical barrier powerful enough to shrug off most spells and sword strikes offered no resistance at all — it was simply cut clean through.
Looking down at the head that had just dropped to the ground, Evan turned toward Canelly, who had been shouting something or other behind him.
"What did you say?"
"Uh… n-nothing."
"Something about being careful, I think."
The man in front of him had been so loud that he hadn't quite caught it. Evan sheathed his sword and waited for the black smoke the guild leader had scattered to clear, then frowned slightly as he looked down at the severed head.
"Ugh— gross. Do I need to take this with me?"
"W-why would you…?"
"Well, this guy's a criminal, right? He tried to steal my dragon's corpse, and it looks like he killed people in this county too."
"That's true, but… if you needed evidence, shouldn't you not have killed him…?"
"Is that how it works?"
Yes, so leave me here and go—!
While Evan and Canelly argued back and forth over the guild leader's corpse, Gustav — whose head had been cut off — kept his eyes shut and played dead, frantically searching for a way out of this situation.
The best outcome: the two of them left him behind and walked away. A high-ranking dark mage could resurrect his own body as an undead, so once they were gone he could simply come back to life.
The worst outcome: being dragged all the way to the Royal Capital. The priests and specialists there would realize he wasn't truly dead, and then resurrection would be the least of his problems — he would spend eternity in agony…
"That guy's not dead."
The moment a man's voice rang out, Gustav's head went SPLAT—! and exploded. Evan stared blankly at the thing that had been a head in his hand.
He hadn't sensed the attack coming at all — not even a hint of when it had struck and blown the head apart.
How?
He turned toward the source of the voice and realized he knew the speaker. Standing there was the count who, just yesterday, had thrown a party in his honor.
"Count? Was that you just now?"
"Look at the sky."
"Huh? What do you me—"
Only then did Evan look up. The undead dragon that had been flying just fine moments ago was plummeting toward the ground. It was about to crush them, so Evan immediately swung his sword and shredded the dragon's corpse into dozens of pieces. Blood and flesh rained down.
After roughly shaking off the blood, Evan kept his grip on the sword hilt and looked at the count.
This man… I can't read him.
Since leaving his village, he had never once met someone he thought he couldn't cut down. But the count standing before him now? The man was radiating such a menacing presence that it was hard to believe he was the same person from yesterday… Evan could not say with certainty that he could cut this man down.
He licked his lips slightly and fretted at the sword hilt. Behind him, Canelly dropped to one knee in a flash.
"I-I present myself before His Great Majesty the Blue King."
"Canelly. I didn't hear you were here."
"I-I did report it… th-that I was going to meet the Sword Saint…"
"Yes. I received a report that you were going to the Adventurer Guild in the Royal Capital. I didn't hear anything about you coming here."
"I-I'm sorry, Your Majesty…"
Evan, who had been fretting at his sword hilt the whole time, heard Canelly's words and finally realized that the man before him was not a count but the king — the Blue King. His mouth fell open in shock.
"Eh— you're the king? Yesterday you were a count!"
"E-Evan…! H-hurry and kneel…!"
"Hmm… never mind. Canelly. What would children know of such things?"
"I-I've committed a capital offense…"
"Yes. You can explain the details later. —Sword Saint, just one question."
The count — no, the Blue King — opened his mouth, and Evan felt his heart stop. In that instant, the terror that a wrong answer might cost him his head seized complete control of his mind.
Whether he knew of Evan's fear or not, the Blue King spoke as casually as ever.
"—Are you interested in the throne?"
"I'm… not…"
"I see. Understood. That's all, then. Canelly, clean up and come back."
As if that single question really had been the entire point, the Blue King withdrew his presence and closed his eyes. His body collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
Evan hesitated — should he catch a falling king? Was he even allowed to touch the royal person? In the end he failed to catch him, and the fallen count began streaming blood from the corner of his mouth.
"Uh… Canelly. Is he dead?"
"…H-His Majesty the Blue King can enter the bodies of other nobles."
"What? That's possible?"
"I-it is. Because His Majesty is the king of those with blue blood…"
Even after the king was gone, Canelly remained on one knee for a long while before slowly sinking back onto the ground, legs trembling. Cold sweat poured off her. Finding the robe stifling, she tore it off at once.
"Haaah…"
"…Huh?"
"I thought I was going to die from the tension…"
From beneath the robe, glossy black hair tumbled free. The metallic, scraping voice melted into something clear and lovely that rolled like jade against the ear.
Evan's expression went rigid as he stared at Canelly's face.
"…Canelly, you were a woman?"
"…Huh?"
Canelly looked at him as if he had just said something completely absurd.
She realized that Evan had thought she was a man.