Gargoyle at High Noon

"!"

A gargoyle. A monster whose entire body was living rock. Johan's mind flashed back to the conversation he'd once had with Suettelg.

Either a statue carved in the likeness of a fearsome beast had absorbed ambient magic and come alive, or a monster that could disguise itself as stone had slipped into the city of its own accord.

Hmmm—

The Numerological Talisman vibrated like something screaming, as if shrieking that evil stood directly before him.

Right. Which story was true hardly mattered now. What mattered was how to deal with the gargoyle.

'Ordinary attacks don't work on it, wasn't that what they said?'

It was common knowledge that a gargoyle's stone hide turned spears and blades. Unless the weapon carried potent enchantments, a proper strike would be all but impossible.

Johan drew his sword.

Dusk—the masterwork blade gifted to him by Duke Brudhe. It was no Seal Retriever, but a masterwork all the same. And silver had always struck true against creatures of evil.

"A m-monster in broad daylight...!"

The bishop jabbed a finger at the gargoyle, shouting in disbelief. The sun still hung at its zenith. Wicked monsters like gargoyles were not supposed to roam by day!

"Your Excellency! Fall back!"

Johan's commanding shout brought the bishop to his senses. This was no time to wonder why a gargoyle was abroad at noon. When a monster was in front of you, the first rule was to get away—

-■■■!

The gargoyle lunged savagely. Spreading its rigid stone wings, it arced around the garden and hurled itself at the bishop.

"Someone fetch the mercenaries!"

Johan ordered a servant, then kicked a nearby garden ornament clean off its base and hurled it. With a thunderous crack, the ornament flew like a javelin, and the startled gargoyle veered aside.

"Get inside, now!"

"Y-yes!"

The bishop scrambled away. There were quite a few working servants scattered through the wide garden besides the two of them—once the bishop made it indoors, the gargoyle would simply turn its hunger on some other sacrifice.

Yet the gargoyle spared not a glance for anyone else, fixating on the bishop with obsessive persistence.

"Uwaaagh!"

The bishop screamed and threw himself forward. The gargoyle's strike grazed past, and blood fountained from his back. The wound was shallow, but the bishop howled as though he were dying.

Johan realized it too: the gargoyle was hunting the bishop alone. Others had thrown things, screamed themselves hoarse, and the creature hadn't reacted in the slightest.

'What is this? Did the bishop look tasty or something?'

But the gargoyle wasn't a monster that craved blood and flesh in the ordinary sense. It wasn't a creature of ordinary flesh to begin with. Its body was stone, and where blood should have flowed, there was only magic.

'Then a soul would be what looks tasty. The bishop's soul... is that a possibility?'

The old joke that demons covet the fat souls of the greedy was told often enough even here. Not that anyone took it seriously...

"Brother! Brother!"

"Coming."

Even as he spoke, Johan lunged in and swung Dusk across the gargoyle's back. The creature twisted away with startling reflexes—but Johan was a heartbeat faster. The monster's hard outer hide melted and sizzled where the blade bit, leaving a wound.

-■■!

That one blow apparently made the gargoyle take Johan very seriously indeed. A potent soul and unnatural strength had already made it wary; now the man was carrying a silver blade. No wonder it had marked him.

'Tch. Should have gone for the wings.'

The mere fact that the thing could fly made it enormously troublesome. If it chose to flee, there'd be nothing he could do about it.

Fortunately, the bishop must have looked delectable indeed, because the gargoyle did not retreat. It flapped in place, its gaze swinging between Johan and the bishop.

It resembled a great predator circling, determined to slip past the shepherd and get at the flock.

"Sir Knight! We're here!"

Word had spread, and the mercenaries came sprinting, crossbows and bows already drawn—they'd heard a monster had appeared in the city.

"Loose!"

Crossbows snapped, and the archers released their strings. Bolts and arrows slammed into the gargoyle's body, and it thrashed in fury.

"Nobody's carrying silver arrows, I take it?"

"Sir Knight, where would the likes of us get that kind of money!?"

Thwip!

-■!

And yet a single arrow punched clean through the gargoyle's stone thigh. Buried among dozens of other shafts, the creature never even noticed it—until the hit landed.

The shot belonged to Galambos, once of the Eastern Rangers.

"What the—? How did you manage that?"

"Silver arrow!"

"Y-you little bastard, you had something like that and were still mooching free drinks off us?"

"You idiots! You think I paid for it out of my own purse? Just keep shooting!"

Galambos wailed like a man watching his last coin roll down a drain. The arrow was one he'd received from the Eastern Rangers long ago, made for hunting werewolves—its head cast and plated in silver.

Not a solid-silver head, but the effect was undeniable. It ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had skewered the gargoyle's stony torso.

"Well done, Galambos!"

At Johan's shout, Galambos dipped his head. Truth be told, he'd hesitated as he loosed it, but the knight's reaction set his mind at ease.

This knight was clearly not the stingy sort when it came to rewards. The mercenaries said so, and everything they'd witnessed backed it up. The man could be trusted.

-■■!

Stung by the arrows, the gargoyle ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠did something Johan had not anticipated. It gaping its maw wide and spat a jagged stone from its throat.

Johan snapped his head aside to dodge—and the creature whipped its tail out long and coiled it around the bishop.

"?!"

Clutching its prize, the gargoyle heaved itself into the air. By rights, it should have finished things right there, pride be damned. But even a gargoyle knew better than to be stubborn in a situation like this.

One man—Johan—was already trouble enough. With all these others besides...

"Uuuurgh!"

The bishop went tumbling, dragged head over heels across the ground. The gargoyle, which should have soared skyward, was floundering, unable to gain altitude. The silver arrow lodged in its body was clearly taking its toll.

"After it!"

Johan, wearing nothing but a surcoat thrown over his shirt, began to run alongside the mercenaries.

"Anyone got a spear?!"

"You get arrested for carrying a spear in the city!"

"Everything throwable—hand it all over!"

At Johan's bellow, the mercenaries started passing forward anything that could be hurled, from throwing axes to daggers. Johan collected them one by one and hurled them at the gargoyle. Every hit drew a dull, heavy shriek from the creature.

Galambos stared in bewilderment. No silver on those weapons—so why was it screaming?

Confused as he was, Galambos offered what he knew.

"Sir Knight! Without silver or sorcery, you'll struggle to wound it badly!"

"I know. Balkalmur!"

At Johan's call, the demon surged up and left its mark upon the weapon. The axe warped its flight path, wings angled for the gargoyle's—

-■■!

The gargoyle twisted its head, clamped its jaws around the axe, and raked it with its claws. It seemed determined to block Johan's attacks above all else.

"Sir Knight. It seems focused on you alone."

"Doesn't matter. We're buying time either way! What matters is that it doesn't escape with His Excellency. You two—fetch the city guards! Tell them a monster's loose!"

Running alongside the mercenaries, Johan harried the gargoyle with one strike after another, and each time it halted to defend itself.

It still couldn't fly properly—and thanks to that, the bishop rolled and bounced across the ground, screaming all the way.

Frankly, it would have hurt less if the thing had simply taken to the air.

"Kyaaaaagh!"

"A m-monster! A monster!"

"Civilians, get indoors! A gargoyle's loose!"

With the gargoyle flapping down the main thoroughfare, pandemonium was inevitable. As the screams began, Johan bellowed with all his might. The power behind his voice rattled eardrums, and people jolted awake and scrambled aside.

"They're taking the bishop!"

"The bishop's been abducted by a demon!"

It wasn't a demon, but there was no time to issue corrections. Johan shifted the pattern of his harassment, varying his strikes as he chased it.

A few blows carried magic in them; the rest did not—and the gargoyle flew into a tantrum of pure fury. Being toyed with by Johan had apparently galled it beyond bearing.

'Can't let it reach the square...'

But even Johan was starting to grow anxious. The road it was taking led straight to the town square. Given the square's layout, even people trying to flee would likely fail to escape in time.

Worse, with that many people in view, the gargoyle might well abandon the bishop and turn on the crowd instead.

Honestly, Johan found it strange that the creature still fixated on the bishop at all.

'Damn it.'

Screaming, the people in the square began streaming sideways. Johan's grip tightened on his weapon. If it came to it, if the thing lunged at the crowd, he would throw everything into his blade and—

"You've shown your true black heart at last, you knightly dog! Your reputation may be fair enough, but I never trusted a foreigner like you. Wielding weapons and running wild in the city with your band of mercenaries—how dare you!"

A richly dressed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠man stood at the far side of the square with a handful of guards, pointing at Johan and shouting. Johan stared at him, dumbfounded.

"Can you not see the gargoyle right beh—"

"Drop your weapons this instant! The guards are nearby! Move, and they'll loose their crossbows!"

"L-Lord Giodano! Lord Giodano! In front of you! There's a monster in front of you!"

"Yes, yes—you're saying the knight's the monster? I know! The gall of this foreigner, so arrogant as to—"

Giodano's guards broke and fled screaming to the sides. Giodano turned, puzzled—and only then did the gargoyle bearing down on him register in his eyes.

The people shrieking and running hadn't been fleeing rampaging mercenaries. They'd been fleeing a gargoyle in flight.

Those nearby squeezed their eyes shut.

With a crushing impact, the gargoyle fell upon Giodano. Stone claws and teeth ground the nobleman's body into something beyond recognition.

"......"

Mourning, if only for a moment, the nobleman who had come to lord it over the square and met disaster instead, Johan glared at the creature.

It hadn't spared a glance for anyone else—but Giodano had apparently whetted its appetite, and it flailed its forelimbs with evident relish.

'So it fancies high-ranking prey?'

Soaked in Giodano's blood, the creature seemed to be recovering its strength. New vigor pulsed in every beat of its wings.

Of course, Johan had no intention of simply watching. He caught a thrown axe and called upon Balkalmur.

The single-minded resolve to bring the creature down here and now taught Johan how to force Balkalmur into even deeper submission. From somewhere deep in his soul, he roared:

The axe seared hot as an ember, and the demon, choking on terror, shrieked its obedience.

Blood-soaked, the gargoyle tried to block ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the axe as it had before—but it was useless.

The axe slipped like water through the creature's grip and sheared off one of its wings. Panicking, it attempted to take flight, but the loss threw off its balance and it went tumbling across the ground.

Seizing the opening, Johan charged in with his sword, murder in his eyes.

Frightened by the oncoming man, the gargoyle hastily yanked the bishop, still bound in its tail. It meant to kill him somehow and recover its strength.

"I won't let go, you cursed beast!"

'He was awake?!'

Johan and the gargoyle were equally stunned. The bishop, who had hung limp as a rag, suddenly convulsed back to life.

He'd been playing dead through all of that!

With a wail, the bishop fished a hefty cross from within his robes and jammed it into the creature's snout. A holy relic—a silver-cored crucifix studded with precious ornaments.

With a cross suddenly wedged between its jaws, the gargoyle gagged and could not close its mouth. The silver burned into its snout.

That sliver of an opening was all he needed. Johan was already upon it. Rough killing intent poured off him as he glared at the gargoyle with the face of a vengeful spirit.

The bishop looked up at Johan, trembling violently. Frankly, it was hard to say which of the two terrified him more.

Silver light flashed, and the gargoyle's head came off in one clean stroke. The work of a practiced executioner.

Crunch!

Johan drove the silver blade straight through the gargoyle's severed head. The onlookers burst into cheers at the top of their lungs.

A young knight had beheaded a demon before their very eyes. No one could stand and watch such a thing in silence. Again and again, they chanted Johan's name.

"Your Excellency, thank you!"

"Your Excellency! You've worked a miracle and saved us all!"

The crowd surged toward the fallen bishop as well. To their eyes, it was the bishop who had pinned the demon helpless with his cross.

"Praise be to His Excellency the Bishop!"

"Praise be to His Excelle—"

"P-please... someone get me a competent physician..."

muttered the bishop, his face gone white from blood loss.