Chapter 65: Prophecy (4)
Chapter 65: Prophecy (4)
Witches and mages were not the only unusual assets the Black Hand Mercenary Company possessed. They also trained warriors of knightly caliber.
Their training regimen had been refined from generations of accumulated knowledge, from their nomadic days through their time as an assassin order and finally as a mercenary company.
It encompassed broad weapon training, hidden-weapon techniques, hand-to-hand combat, conditioning that pushed specific muscles to their limits, lung-capacity training, flexibility work, and even elixirs.
The challengers were warriors who had undergone that specialized training. Their combat ability surpassed that of most knights.
But they had drawn the worst possible opponent.
SWISH!
An iron rod as long as a lance thrust forward at terrifying speed.
The tribal warrior's instincts screamed a warning: 'That's not an attack I should try to block!' But he had no choice except to raise his shield.
'What kind of speed is this...?'
Eugene could swing his flail around like a toy with one hand. With both hands on the staff for a thrust, his speed was like lightning.
It was too fast for a human to react to, let alone dodge.
BANG!
The warrior was sent flying, lifted clean off his feet, and sprawled across the ground. He had not let go of his weapon and shield, but he groaned and could not rise.
'This... I'd better simply kill their spirit entirely.'
This was not a spar with a high-ranking opponent. There was no need to draw the fight out just so they could save each other's face.
"..."
The warriors who had stepped forward together clenched their teeth at how easily the match had ended.
For backing down like this was something their pride would not permit. Yet the sight of many ganging up on a single guest was likewise dishonorable.
"My thanks for an honorable duel. Even Iron Wall Lipton of Gord once dropped his shield; I salute your tenacity in holding yours to the end."
Eugene shamelessly used the absent Lipton as a comparison to flatter the warrior.
"The Iron Wall Lipton did?"
"He let his shield fall?"
Apparently, being judged favorably against Lipton was an honor. Even the fallen warrior's expression relaxed considerably.
At that moment, Rex spoke.
"Sir Knight, why not give the other warriors a chance as well?"
Rex intended to use the opportunity to burn Eugene firmly into the clan's memory.
"There are enemies in this world against whom sacrifice is unavoidable. Taking turns challenging you is no dishonor. It is also valuable for the warriors who come later to learn from those who fell before them and devise a method."
Eugene wondered whether they really needed to make the affair any bigger, but with the sub-chieftain pushing for it, refusing was difficult.
Seeing the warriors' fighting spirit blaze hotter at Rex's words, Eugene nodded as well.
'Better to clear out all the lingering resentment right here during the festival. They'll forget everything once they drink their fill and get drunk.'
The tribesmen responded to the even greater spectacle with applause and stamping feet.
"For honor!"
The second challenger leveled his spear at Eugene. Though he stepped forward with spirit, the problem was he could find no opening to attack.
'With that reach, how in the world am I supposed to get inside...'
Both wielded similarly shaped weapons, so their stances were alike, but the pressure they gave off was night and day.
The warrior, who prided himself on being the tribe's finest spearman, felt bitter. The comparison made painfully clear that Eugene surpassed him in reach, speed, and power.
"If you will not come to me, I will come to you."
CLANG!
The moment he blocked the first strike with his spear, the warrior felt a sensation as though every bone in his body had been rattled.
WHOOSH!
So he did not dare block the second strike sweeping toward his legs. The warrior jumped straight up to avoid it.
That was exactly what Eugene had intended. Just as the warrior landed, the third sweeping strike came at him.
'Damn it...'
Before he could even set his guard against that swift attack, his flank was struck.
"Ghk!"
The air blasted from the warrior's lungs as he rolled sideways across the ground, convulsing.
Nearby onlookers rushed over, dragged him clear, removed his armor, and checked his injuries. They were remarkably practiced at it.
"He is unharmed!"
An onlooker made an O with thumb and forefinger to signal that he was fine.
"Sir Knight, I ask for a lesson—sword against sword!"
The third challenger shouted.
In melee combat, a difference in reach was absolute. He had clearly decided there was no chance of winning like this.
"Rex. Give me a weapon. And a shield as well."
"Of course."
Their reach was now equal, but that changed nothing. Eugene attacked with shield and sword at once, unleashing a flurry as if he were wielding two blades.
Wielding two swords in harmony was difficult enough. A shield and sword had utterly different balance and length. Everyone marveled as Eugene combined them into a storm of consecutive strikes.
CLATTER!
The warrior staggered backward under the barrage and finally dropped his shield.
BRRRR.
Even while standing still, his entire arm trembled as if afflicted by a severe tremor. He could no longer hold anything.
"I concede."
He clutched his arm and conceded his defeat.
With the third warrior defeated as well, the last challenger asked for a hand-to-hand match.
He had abandoned the notion of opposing Eugene with a weapon and attempted close-quarters combat from the very outset.
'He's a monster in strength and weapon arts, but surely even his joints are not that tough!'
The warrior staked everything on that belief. Feigning an attack, he suddenly dropped his stance low and lunged for Eugene's lower body.
'This is the first time I've seen someone use such a technique. As expected, this tribe is special.'
Eugene admired the technique and let himself go down with it. He could have stood firm like a thousand-year-old tree if he wanted, but hand-to-hand combat was one of his strengths too.
Eugene was the one who had been tackled, yet his hands and torso twisted strangely, and in an instant their positions were reversed.
"Aaaagh!"
Then the warrior's scream of pain rang out.
"Lord Rex, did Sir Knight teach you that during the last bandit hunt too?"
"No. This is my first time seeing it too."
Rex and the other clan members watched the armbar with fascination.
The technique was unfamiliar, but few groups in the world understood the human body better than they did. They recognized its viciousness at once.
"It is over. If you keep resisting, you will end up in a splint."
"He cannot escape that on his own."
The warrior struggled this way and that to break free until his face turned crimson and the veins stood out in his neck.
"I-I surrender! I surrender!"
As Eugene released the armbar, Rex sprang to his feet. He downed a cup of liquor in one gulp and hurled it to the ground.
"Did you all see that? If anyone still doubts my judgment, step forward! From now on, I will be your opponent!"
"Who would? Thanks to you, we got a fine show!"
Cheers and applause erupted from every direction at Rex's shout. For them, nothing paired better with drink—or made better entertainment—than a fight between strong warriors.
The warriors who struggled back to their feet also bowed respectfully to Eugene. They looked relieved, with no lingering resentment.
At a glance from Rex, the young women of the tribe filled their cups to overflowing with liquor. The mood of the feast, which had devoured the sweat and pain of the warriors, grew fiercely heated.
It was the next morning, after a night of eating and drinking like mad.
"Sir Knight. A guest has come to see you."
A maidservant waiting outside Eugene's quarters informed him.
Homi, sick of the alcohol smell filling the banquet hall, had gone out for a walk.
"Who is it?"
"It is the summoner Marbas-nim."
Eugene smiled faintly at the sight of Varda nodding vigorously.
"Let him in."
Unlike last time, Marbas's body was wrapped here and there in bandages.
"The tribe's traditional clothing suits you remarkably well. You may be the first human ever to wear it."
"Thanks to that, I had to spar with their hot-blooded warriors."
"And in the end, have they not grown more respectful and friendly toward you? Look on the bright side."
"I am. This is Varda-nim, the mage of the Emerald Forest."
Eugene gestured toward Varda with an open hand.
"I have heard much of your fame. A young knight could hardly ask for a greater blessing than an adviser like you at his side."
"I too had long wished to meet a summoner. I thank you for sharing your precious knowledge with my knight."
The two great mages' first exchange centered on Eugene.
"There is no cause for thanks, as I did it for my own sake as well. Is the summoner not the most solitary of all mages? For me, the conversations with this knight were themselves the reward."
Had a sharp ache flared up? Marbas paused and touched his bandaged arm.
"Turbulent times lie ahead. Befriending this clan was an excellent decision. The sub-chieftain seems completely taken with you as well."
"They treat me so well after only one fight together that it is almost burdensome. Now that I know about the prophecy, I understand it better."
Marbas waved his hand.
"Do not misunderstand. It was after you parted ways that the sub-chieftain learned of the prophecy. He treated you out of pure goodwill. You must have spoken and acted in ways that moved him, beyond mere martial prowess."
Varda nodded. Eugene had a knack for winning people over with even a few words.
As their conversation turned to affairs elsewhere in the world, Eugene noticed the corners of Marbas's eyes twitch faintly.
"Are you all right?"
"The throbbing is unusually severe today."
"I have medicine that works well for pain. Would you like some?"
"Thank you, but I am already using excellent medicine. Where do you think I am staying?"
The Black Hand House had once been an assassin order and now operated a mercenary company. Its members hunted monsters routinely and had witches of their own, giving them medicines and treatment methods superior to those of most great noble houses.
"As you know, the flames that engulfed me were no ordinary fire. They eat away at both flesh and soul."
Marbas unwrapped the bandages from his arm, exposing the burned skin beneath.
"You can see it, cannot you?"
"Yes."
Beyond the burned skin, Eugene saw spiritual embers flickering and seething. They clung to Marbas's soul like live cinders.
"That is far too high a price for one mistake."
"I am glad you understand. Whenever it gets the chance, it becomes a fire serpent and flicks a black tongue out through my skin."
"Is there no way to treat it?"
Eugene looked to Varda, but she shook her head. This was not a Mystery the forest mage could handle.
"I cannot even see the embers tormenting him. My magic and medicine can heal only the flesh. A fire burning from within him..."
Varda trailed off in regret.
"Do the religious orders have no solution either? If anyone is suited to this kind of healing, it should be them."
"Once, at enormous expense, I obtained holy water blessed by a bishop. It improved the visible symptoms, but it did nothing to solve the underlying problem."
Marbas touched his skin, stained and marred by burns.
Those embers of hell tormenting Marbas's soul somehow seemed to Eugene as insignificant as a candle before a storm.
TAP-TAP-TAP.
Eugene drummed his index finger on the table.
Something was tickling the back of his mind, teasing at an idea just beyond his reach.
"Ah!"
After a moment, the finger drumming the table stopped cold.
"Perhaps."
"Hmm?"
"Perhaps I might be able to help."
Eugene instructed the maidservant outside to bring a jar full of water.
"Varda-nim. Would you leave the room for a moment?"
She rose without asking anything. Likewise, Marbas, too, asked nothing.
As mages, both instinctively understood that Eugene was about to attempt a new Mystery. It was the kind of insight that must not be disturbed.
Varda in particular knew that Eugene possessed unprecedented authority in wielding the power of the Otherworld.
"May fortune be with you."
Varda left, and a short while later the maid returned carrying a jar brimming with water. Eugene had expected a male servant to carry something so heavy, but she was a Black Hand woman, after all.
"Thank you."
"It is nothing. If you need more, just say the word."
Once the maidservant had bowed courteously and withdrawn, Eugene dipped his hands into the clean water and stirred it this way and that.
"Now, will you tell me what you are planning?"
In the end, Marbas, unable to contain his curiosity, asked.
"I mean to extinguish an unquenchable fire."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I cannot explain it properly myself. I am simply listening to what my instincts whisper and following them."
Eugene closed his eyes and laid his palms upon the surface of the water in the jar.
He recalled the baptism he had undergone long ago at an Orthodox Church monastery. It was a sacred rite of passage that he and the other children of the village had all received.
"I cast you out from his soul."
As the prayer began in a low voice, Marbas's eyes widened.
"Foul spirit. Tenacious flame and agony. Beneath my guidance, be uprooted from this creature and depart."
The water in the jar swirled under Eugene's hand as he prayed, and a powerful Mystery settled into it.
It was a power akin to the miracles of the bishops Marbas had witnessed several times, yet fundamentally different.
"I permit no further punishment. He has suffered enough. Therefore..."
As the prayer continued, Marbas felt the heat inside him subside. Simply being near Eugene's blessing was enough to suppress the rampaging hellish energy.
Eugene scooped up a gourdful of the water he had consecrated.
SLOSH.
A mighty purifying power radiated from the rippling water.
It was neither a holy energy imbued with the will of a god, nor a wicked energy imbued with the will of an evil god.
It was simply pure force.
It was a purifying force specialized solely in washing away spiritual impurities, regardless of good or evil.
"Please stand in front of me."
In that moment, Marbas felt his body and the weight of his years fall away, as though only his soul remained before Eugene.
The bandages came away, revealing skin mottled with old burns. Malevolent heat seethed beneath scars that had healed long ago, trying to pry them open and peer into the world.
The consecrated water Eugene splashed over him poured down his body.
SPLASH...
The water streamed down over his skin, but its coolness passed through Marbas's flesh and drenched his soul.
HISSSSSS!
Smoke rose from wherever the water touched Marbas's body, carrying the stench of brimstone.
"O-o-oh..."
The corners of Marbas's wrinkled eyes began to grow damp.
Salvation.
That was the only thing he felt. The remnants of hell that had gnawed at him for thirty years were being driven out by Eugene's baptism.