If You Bet Your Life (3)

Benny’s tongue had been racing at dangerous speed while she kept one eye on Santra’s movements. In the process she had learned, almost by accident, that the Peres family used a private channel. They seemed to have thrown one together simply because they needed a way to receive orders. The security password being 1111 was so obviously amateurish that she had burst out laughing—atchoo!

Her tongue still tripping over itself, Benny finally spat out the most urgent part first. Her head snapped sideways with a magnificent sneeze. Droplets flew from her soaking pink hair like a willow thrashing in a storm.

“Sniff. Anyway, I contacted everyone who might actually come if I asked for help—including the Peres. Their family arrived first. They found the smuggled griffins I’d crammed into the warehouse, so Santra’s going to be a little inconvenienced, but… ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠well. I’ll apologize to her in person later—atchoo!”

A short distance away, Santra, still being transported, shot her a murderous glare. Benny never noticed. Her nose must have been stinging; she pinched the bridge of it and hopped in place.

Nathan asked in a voice drained of strength, “Why do you look like a loaf of bread that’s been dunked in water and pulled back out?”

“I saw a lake outside the window and jumped straight in.”

The tension finally left him. Nathan collapsed onto the street. Farther off, the brawling fighters glared at him with hostile eyes, but the knight paid them no mind. Let them stare.

“Why do you pull that death-mask face the second you see me? You scared me half to death for no reason.”

“No, it’s just… I feel a little guilty. Like a kid who committed her first theft, then realized too late that it really was stealing.”

Still lying down, Nathan lifted only his head to look at her. “Why?”

“You.”

The moment the context hit him, Nathan covered his face and dug his fingers into his own skin. Benny watched the boy standing on the threshold of manhood wrestle with his anguish, then giggled and fell into a brief reverie. In a situation like this the thought was a luxury, perhaps even something to feel guilty about.

Hmm. After surviving a crisis and reuniting, it would have been nice if we’d simply thrown our arms around each other the moment we saw one another.

But after facing Aspen, something in Nathan had changed. He himself probably hadn’t even noticed the difference. She had once mocked Aspen for being unclear, yet Benny had never been in a truly solid relationship either. She had drawn the line first, frightened for reasons she couldn’t name, telling herself she wouldn’t mind if they spent one night together and then forgot each other.

The romantic rivals in novels always seemed like nothing more than passionate youth no matter how fiercely they burned—chewy taffy melting in a frying pan. But when it became her own reality there was no sweetness at all. What she had thought was taffy turned out to be cinnamon jelly. The truth left a bitter taste in her mouth and made her sad.

The tears that had welled in Aspen’s eyes the instant she met Nathan. The way she sacrificed herself without complaint even while knowing she was a rival—because it was the right thing. That girl was no realistic coward like the ones Benny despised. Nor was she a fool proudly practicing abstinence inside the amusement park of a time-limited life.

She had done this countless times before. She had known she would say it one day.

Benny, you crazy bitch. What the hell have you done?

“Benny.”

Robbing the person who saved my life isn’t my Hedonic way. Yes. Let’s stop obsessing. I was wrong—

“Benny.”

Startled, Benny sneezed again. “Hetch-oo! Ow. Damn it. I’m going to get a nosebleed. What?”

“Since we’re both alive for now, shall we agree to be grateful for that? Stop thinking useless thoughts. I’m glad you’re safe, Benny.”

She must have looked deeply troubled. Benny nodded, then roughly shook her whole body inside the blanket wrapped around her. And she sneezed once more, the sound absurdly comical.

Pontima Peres was sweating profusely, chanting a spell and weaving hand signs, when one of Santra’s Eleim subordinates spoke to him while casually tossing a fireball from palm to palm.

“First time I’ve seen a Sapiens use ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠magic. I heard you can handle multiple elements but your output is pathetically weak. Is that true?”

Irritation flared inside Pontima. If someone poked him in the side right now and made him bite his tongue, he would suffer mana backlash and a headache for the rest of the day.

Yes. I’m sorry. It’s because I wasn’t born blessed by the elements like you elves. Damn. Mana-affine races.

He swallowed the retort and refocused on the far more important task. He had to open a path for Aspen. Because—

Dozens of wyverns were surging up from the pit of fire created by the abyssal dragon. Pontima decided not to wonder why so many wyverns had met their end inside a city. The history of the Heavens was long; somewhere in those thick pages there was surely an explanation. What mattered was that the winged monsters were charging the griffin squadron.

Of course, the griffins trained for war would never easily show their backs. When the griffin carrying his father and Aspen performed an elegant evasive maneuver, the orbs of fire Pontima had summoned detonated in sequence, intercepting the creatures. Whether stolen or not, griffins were loyal to humans. Therefore their evasive actions contained the utmost consideration for their riders.

Yet when the balance shifted Aspen let out an involuntary groan.

“Hold on just a little longer, Aspen.”

Embarrassed, Aspen loosened her arms from around Andau’s waist. Her father had to be in agony. She knew exactly where and how she had hurt him. It was hardly something to brag about.

“You probably wanted to hear this. I’m sorry for being so stubborn, Father.”

“Sorry? You’re thinking that it’s fortunate I came to this scene today instead of your father. After all, I survived. Good is good, isn’t it?”

The sarcastic tone was mirror-image to her own. Aspen, who had been about to smirk, corrected herself. No. I am the one who takes after Father.

“Hmm. About half right? I ran into some creatures that were rather strong even for an abyssal. A massive predatory dinosaur. A lizardman the size of the Lion Wing Knights’ captain.”

“So this old man would have died without even crossing blades?”

“Not necessarily. It’s just… it was better that I met them.”

Andau scratched roughly at his scalp, caught between pride and pride. Aspen chuckled.

“The young recover faster even if they’re injured.”

“That doesn’t sound like a joke to a father. I’d rather you never get injured at all.”

Aspen closed her mouth.

“I never imagined or wished for you to challenge for the seat of family head amid all this chaos. But after thinking it over, I realized that if I were in your place I might have done the same. You were threatened with death without any warning, and there were far too many things I never told you.”

“You don’t have to tell me right now. There will be plenty of time to listen later. Perhaps I was too hasty.”

“Now that you are the head, there are things I must not hide from you. But there are also things that must not be known rashly. I wrote down every matter I need to convey to you in my diary. When we return I’ll show it to you—read it slowly.”

Aspen glanced around at the surrounding sky. Her siblings and the family elders were escorting them like guards, while Santra’s mages looked busy detonating the wyvern swarm. After a moment’s thought, Aspen decided on a small cheat. She leaned against her father’s back and wheedled.

“I changed my mind. Can’t you just tell me?”

“The only bad daughter in the world who thinks she can get away with smacking her father’s crown with a scabbard and then acting cute is you. Very well—where should I begin?”

Only a Peres would be generous enough to let the matter slide so amicably. Aspen smiled with her eyes and listened closely.

“The bad daughter is ready to listen, Father.”

Silence. Slightly awkward and long. Aspen craned her neck to study her father.

“Aspen.”

“Yes. I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“I have always been proud of you.”

“Pardon?”

A sudden fierce, cold wind blew. She hadn’t heard clearly. Facing the headwind with her eyes wide open, Aspen frowned. Something must have flown into her eye; it suddenly stung. Only then, a beat too late, did she notice.

The arrow buried deep in her father’s chest.

“You must… steel your heart.”

Andau Peres swayed sideways, then fell with an eerie, dreamlike delay. Watching him recede, Aspen could only think that something had gone terribly wrong.

You said the essence of the Flowing Sword lies in its unexpectedness, didn’t you? To pierce a gap so perfectly—I still have much to learn. So please stop. My heart is going to drop.

But what fell was only her father’s body.

The freezing winds of the sky hammered her eardrums as if to shatter them. Sound gradually returned to the world, and only then did Aspen realize she was screaming.

“Father——!”

“Nathan? Why is your face—”

Seized by an ominous premonition, Benny whirled around. The griffin squadron that had been crossing the city safely suddenly scattered in chaotic directions, like flies swarming over fruit, like bees whose hive had collapsed. Benny yanked out her tablet and began recording. Only when she zoomed in did she see it clearly.

One of the griffins in the middle had a serious problem. The first was the three or four arrows buried in its chest. The second was that it was being dragged toward the ground as though caught by a spell, wings flapping desperately in resistance. The third problem was what rode atop it.

“Aspen,” Nathan muttered.

The world was falling from that spot.

No. Dozens of griffins were carrying the Peres family. Maybe she had seen wrong. That one might not be Aspen’s. It could be an empty mount gone berserk, or perhaps it was diving for some trivial reason like motion sickness or the need to relieve itself. Yet a corner of Nathan’s mind swept those complacent thoughts away.

That descent was unnatural no matter how one looked at it. The animal instinct that bypassed logic—the same instinct that had saved him time and again—pounded his skull with a fist and screamed at the top of its lungs.

That’s Aspen. She’s in danger right now. Run.

“Nathan. Wait.”

The instant the griffin’s silhouette vanished completely behind the buildings, Benny ran over and blocked his path.

“Move.”

“We don’t know what kind of trap might be waiting. Just wait a second.”

Benny flinched at the bloodshot glare in Nathan’s eyes. She instinctively scanned their surroundings, but there was no one who would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stand in his way instead. Santra’s private troops were retreating with their master. The Sword Saint Sect and the security forces weren’t even glancing in this direction. And Nathan was about to ignore her and charge off.

In that fleeting moment Benny somehow caught him. Nathan stared at her as she hugged him tightly, looking utterly dumbfounded.

“Move aside.”

“Please, just stay still. I won’t tell you not to go, so give me a few seconds! Please.”

“Why!”

“Because I called for the mount and armor you’ll ride! Please believe me. If even the slightest scrap of trust in me is still left inside you—!”

Called for a mount and armor? How long were they supposed to wait? If they were late, Aspen might die… Nathan’s pupils trembled.

“You.”

Rain began to fall from the darkening sky. Tiny droplets seeped against his skin and struck his eyes. Why had she stopped him? Blood that had surged backward hammered the insides of his eyes and crushed his sockets. The reason he had stopped himself from ripping her away by force was that if he laid a hand on her carelessly right now, Benny looked as though she would break.

Suddenly her attitude seemed terribly defenseless. She looked almost complacent, as if she believed he would not shove her aside.

Why?

Everyone around you has an ulterior motive.

Someone’s words rose in his mind—words he had sworn not to be bewitched by.

The Eleim designed your life as they pleased.

Nathan’s gaze was drawn, as if possessed, to a certain part of Benny. Between the pink strands, long ears that were not human trembled. A wrist that had once been severed itched and ached again.

“You…”

A rumble.

It flew from the sky in a flash of lightning and fell. Directly behind Benny.

Nathan, who had not yet understood the situation, could only blink. A long box resembling a coffin had descended and stopped short of the ground. The reason it could only be described as “stopped” was that it never touched the earth—hovering a hand’s breadth above it. The crystalline shell surrounding the box burst with a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pop. At the same time the iron box slammed into the ground with a heavy thud. Its surface was covered with unknown mechanical parts like barnacles. The door of the upright container opened. Inside lay an object of bizarre shape. If one were to disassemble a knight’s heavy plate from behind and spread it flat, it would look exactly like—

“It’s exactly what you’re thinking. Put it on.”

Benny, who had stepped aside in front of the box, urged Nathan to walk inside while explaining its use in the simplest terms possible. After a brief moment of hesitation, Nathan nodded and stepped into the container.

No. He shouldn’t do this. He could not let the evil spirit’s words shake his faith. The bastard might have planted groundless confusion inside his mind. The suspicion rose only now—why only now? What if everything the bastard had said from beginning to end had been a lie?

If I decided not to listen, then I don’t listen.

In that snowy alley, facing the dying Nathan, Benny had told him exactly that. Don’t listen. Don’t let the noise that shakes you devour you. Nathan remembered the touch of that small earplug. He remembered the warmth of the hand that had placed it over his ear.

The iron plates creaked and began to wrap around him, tightening. Nathan did not kick his way out of the box. He let it happen. If by some chance this really was the trick the evil spirit had spoken of, then so be it—he would die. Of course the plates did not slice flesh or strip bone. They meshed carefully, gliding over every muscle. Or perhaps they had been crafted to his exact size from the beginning.

Gears turned. Steel groaned. The rear panel of the steel compartment opened. Nathan walked out encased in plate armor. It greatly resembled the armor of the Lion Wing Knights, yet somewhere an original design had been added. The full heavy armament was completed in mere seconds.

“Done. Now run.”

Benny smiled triumphantly. At that moment the remaining parts of the steel box shrieked with metallic screams, growing and intertwining. What had looked like a giant barnacle became the shoulder musculature of a foreleg. What had resembled a shark’s gills now filled the ribcage. Where a mane should have been, sleek iron plates like those of a crayfish layered over one another. The beast forged of steel and blue light glared at Nathan and snorted. Instead of nostrils, blue vapor erupted from the gaps along its flanks.

“What are you waiting for, Sir Knight? Go. I said run.”

Her voice sounded half-terrified, half-feverish. As though she had waited for this very instant, Benny’s eyes sparkled.

“The princess is waiting.”

Ugh. Groooan.

Beast-like cries. Those sounds that could not be expressed in words and therefore never became language were the most powerful vocabulary of denial. He had heard many similar ones. Yet he had never enjoyed a single one.

The man swept back his white hair with a complicated expression.

“But that is not something one can prepare for with resolve alone, nor does it become easier no matter how many times you experience it. I know that well.”

Gurgle. Ugh. The gaping mouth refused to close. It must feel as if the heart were being torn apart. Even if the ribs had not shattered in the fall, the pain would echo inside the chest as though they had. But there comes a time when one must let go. It is the same with anything.

Protector Lord Morbi waited. He waited until Aspen finally stopped shaking the body of the now-cold Andau. Until she staggered upright on her broken leg and pointed her sword at him. Only then did he slowly draw the Protector Lord’s longsword.

“So I will say it in advance. I am truly sorry that things have come to this.”

Sleet was covering the floor of the heavens.