Chapter 193 : Stranger (3)
Stranger (3)
"Damn it...!"
A man wearing a priest's robe was walking through the back alleys, carrying his injured body.
His steps were unstable as blood flowed down his leg; he was Crusch, one of the Heroes of the Holy Nation.
If his friend Bellain was the Hero of the sword, then he was the Hero of magic, freely controlling holy magic.
'I have to use recovery magic...'
He tried to use magic with the staff he leaned on like a crutch, but hesitated.
'No. If I do that, the light might give me away!'
Healing spells, especially seduction spells, always emitted a brilliant light.
They were excellent for support, but utterly unfit for a fugitive on the run.
In fact, Crusch hadn't managed to get far from his pursuers.
"Found him."
At that moment, soldiers chasing from behind discovered Crusch.
"Damn!"
At the sight of the soldiers flooding in, Crusch gave up and stopped moving.
He wasn't exactly cornered in a dead end, but with an injured leg, it was impossible to escape their reach.
In the end, running away would be pointless.
"As expected, you didn't get far. You bug from the Holy Nation. Or, no? Maybe it's more proper to say you're now a tool of the Imperial Court."
"......"
Crusch couldn't argue against the soldier's mockery.
"Daring to infiltrate our Woodrock and sniff around for secrets? If it's your wish to dig your own grave, I'll happily grant it."
With threatening words, the soldiers drew their swords and approached Crusch.
"Heh..."
"Huh?"
Despite being surrounded, Crusch burst into laughter, making the soldiers frown.
"What's so funny?"
"Since when... have trash like you 7th Legion guys been stationed in Woodrock?"
"7th Legion? What are you talking about?"
"Don't bother pretending. I'm a mage specializing in healing. Even if the spell on your bodies is gone, the aftereffects of the torture spell you've endured up until now remain clear as day to me. I can see it plainly."
Like Bellain, he had obtained great magical power through a ritual.
Perhaps due to that power, Crusch had gained a special sight that allowed him to read people's physical conditions or symptoms.
"The aftereffects of the 7th Legion's torture spell don't appear in any regular combat soldier. Only you lot suffer from that incurable aftermath!"
"You sure have an utterly useless ability."
At last, the soldiers removed their helmets, revealing their true faces.
Though taking off their helmets wouldn't by itself identify them as 7th Legion, their faces were unmistakably those of hardened criminals, not ordinary people.
"Right. Easier to recognize, isn't it? The subordinates who were following you earlier—we sent them somewhere more comfortable, so you don't have to worry."
"What?"
Crusch hadn't come to Woodrock alone.
He had brought his unit here by order of the Pope to work with the Imperial Court's special task force to capture or kill deserters from the 7th Legion.
"They were wiped out?"
The White Knights of the Holy Nation were highly trained, so the idea that they'd all been wiped out by these men was hard to believe.
"You filthy trash...!"
Upon hearing that all his subordinates had been annihilated, Crusch was overcome with fury and prepared his magic with his staff.
A brilliant ray of white light flashed as he began to cast his spell.
KWAANG!—
"Argh!"
Suddenly, a dark magic blast flew in, causing a tremendous explosion and interrupting Crusch's spell.
The magic, which sent Crusch flying, had been cast by someone who appeared behind him.
"Ma-demonkin...!"
Barely lifting his head, Crusch's eyes filled with horror as he saw the culprits who had fired that blast.
They had brown skin and pointed ears—unmistakably demonkin.
"It was tough fighting your White Knights at first, but things became a lot easier once these friends joined in."
"Don't tell me your successful desertion... all thanks to them?"
"We're not really sure, either. We applied some kind of drug to the stigma and the spell disappeared."
"Drug?"
"Oops. Maybe I said too much?"
The soldier grabbed Crusch, who was sprawled at his feet, by the neck and lifted him.
"Sorry, but that's all I can say. You got into this mess from eavesdropping on our conversation, after all."
"Right... You said yourselves—there's a helper supporting the king of this place. And the king of Woodrock... is going to awaken the Great Devil!"
"Then we really can't let you live, can we?"
The soldier drew his sword to finish Crusch off, aiming straight for his heart.
PUH-RRR—!
"Huh?"
The sound of flesh being pierced did not ring out.
Instead, the blade crumbled to powder and disappeared.
"What the...?"
"Captain...! Something's wrong—aargh!!"
Even the subordinates waiting behind turned to powder and vanished.
"Argh! My body!!"
"Save..."
They couldn't even leave proper last words as their bodies all crumbled away.
Standing smiling behind the vanished soldiers was a young girl.
"You shouldn't go around stabbing people with swords~"
"Is it okay to turn people into sand, then?"
Victor, walking beside her, quipped as Pram smiled.
"If you stab with a sword, there's blood, but this way it's relatively clean. Might even be safe for children to watch, don't you think?"
"Screaming in agony is still the same, though."
"True that."
Whether stabbed or turned to sand, the agony was the same.
"And who are you lot... huh?"
Like the soldier who had grabbed Crusch by the neck, he too simply died, slowly turning to sand.
"My...my body...!"
"Bye~"
"No!!"
As the soldier turned to dust and disappeared, the freed Crusch collapsed onto the ground.
"Who... Who are you people?"
"You're the collaborator from the Holy Nation, right?"
"Collaborator? Don't tell me you're—!"
At that moment, the demonkin fired their black blasts again, but Victor blocked them, transforming his hand into a monster's arm.
"This guy looks hurt? I'll heal him—Victor, can you deal with those guys?"
"It's not like you to order me around."
"Quit making that weird face and just do it already."
While Victor massacred the demonkin, Pram began to heal Crusch's injured leg.
But as she did, Crusch grabbed her hand to stop her.
"Wait! That evil magic power... Are you, by any chance, one of them?!"
"I'm not."
"Don't lie! I can feel a power from you that's practically devil-like. I can't accept that sort of thing in my body!"
As befitting someone from the Holy Nation, Crusch held fierce faith.
He abhorred anything tainted like evil magic, and considered cleansing it one of his life's joys.
"So, you don't want healing? If I leave you, you might never walk again."
"Don't try to deceive me! I know my body! The power of scum like you should be purified with the power of the World Tree."
"World Tree? Pfft!"
At those words, Pram suddenly burst out laughing.
"The World Tree... Pahahahaha!"
"What's so funny?!"
"Want to see something amusing?"
"Huh?"
Suddenly, the evil magic vanished from Pram, and sacred magic began to radiate from her body.
"This is...?"
"You mentioned the World Tree, didn't you?"
"Wait... This magic power...!"
As people from a nation that worshipped the World Tree, the sacred magic now radiating from Pram appeared dazzlingly pure.
Of course, it was—the magic itself belonged to the World Tree.
"I am the World Tree."
Crusch's expression twisted at her declaration.
Pram began to heal his wounds using the very power of the World Tree.
"How... How could someone like you..."
"Can't believe it?"
Then Pram began to wield both the brilliant magic of the World Tree and the evil magic of the Great Devil at the same time.
To completely restore his ruined leg, she utilized every method.
"Haah...!"
Sacred magic in her left hand, evil magic in her right.
What kind of hybrid was this?
"So? Do I still look like trash to you?"
"......"
Crusch was at a loss to answer.
He could feel the World Tree's power but also sense the aura of the devil.
How on earth was he supposed to describe this being?
"That holy magic your Holy Nation uses or whatever—they say it all comes from the World Tree, right?"
"Damn it..."
The Pope had said it himself. The World Tree had fallen into Imperial hands.
So, this is what that meant.
"From your nation's standpoint, am I someone who must die? Or should I be welcomed?"
"..."
In the end, Crusch gave up on answering, lowering his head.
No matter what answer he gave, his faith would be shattered.
"By the way, how did you get hurt like this?"
"Well..."
Ultimately, Crusch had to accept everything and cooperate with the special task force.
****
"Do you truly intend to help me?"
Inside an audience hall of the Woodrock royal palace, the king was conversing with someone.
Though the king was supposed to be the most revered person, he was speaking formally—the person before him was far beyond the limits of rank.
"Thank you truly, Great Devil Goramon."
The king bowed to the demonkin, who had many tentacles attached to his body.
Though goramon appeared on the outside as an ordinary demonkin, the pressure he exuded was beyond human comprehension.
"I have manifested here in haste at the request of that guy. My power is incomplete, but it will at least suffice to protect you."
The Great Devil's body was bound to another dimension and usually couldn't intervene in this world.
But with the help of a dark magic group, it was possible for him to manifest physically to this extent.
Like Palmon, for instance.
"The help of the 7th Legion soldiers was crucial for me to come here. For them all to simultaneously invoke dark magic... Anyway, can we truly regain our former strength?"
"Yes. Do you remember 'Blood Sword Technique'?"
"Of course, I couldn't possibly forget it. Because of that power, a comrade of mine became a legend on this continent."
Goramon recalled the deeds of Duramon, his companion.
That guy had desperately sought to regain his original body, but failed and died.
"He was called the Demon King and brought blood and terror to this continent. Thanks to the demonkin war he caused, the demon realm grew stronger, but he got careless and met a grim end."
Duramon, known as the Demon King, used the Blood Sword Technique, but the Great Devils never regained their power.
Other Great Devils like Goramon thought this was foolish.
"This time, we should be able to reproduce that."
Goramon smiled at the king as if looking at a child.
"I look forward to it. Descendant of the king who struck a pact with the Great Devils centuries ago, and bearer of the blood of Blood Sword Technique."
"But there's a problem."
"What is it?"
"I inherited the blood but not the swordsmanship. So, I had to resort to a complicated method."
Unable to handle the Blood Sword Technique, the king required a manual.
Thus, he had to request a manual from the East Continent.
"I have the blood, so I should be able to understand the contents of the manual quickly. That way, the awakening of the Great Devils should be easier."
"If the ritual succeeds, then the vanished Palmon, Wigmon, and Duramon will also be revived. Why, you ask?"
—Because we are immortal.
"By the way, do you not have children? I thought at least one of them would be a successor."
"I already tried that a long time ago... but all were failures."
Since long ago, he had tried creating heirs to the Blood Sword Technique by fathering children, but all in vain.
So, the king mercilessly abandoned them.
"By now, they're probably dead of starvation or living as slaves in some poor place. That's exactly where I abandoned them."
"Hahaha! No different from the king centuries ago. More than just your blood, you look just like him."
"Too kind of you."
Having a Great Devil at his side gave the king confidence.
Just then, the doors to the audience hall opened and a soldier entered.
"Your guests have arrived, Your Majesty."
"Good—they're not late."
As the guests set foot in the audience hall, Goramon vanished with an invisibility spell.
At the same time, Goramon's gaze sharpened as he saw the visitors.
'Those ones?'
There were four of them, two clearly guests from the East Continent, and the other two felt different.
One was a girl with black hair and red eyes, the other a man with a rough temperament.
'Wait. That guy...!'
As the sense of dread struck Goramon, he examined the man closely—and discovered a shocking truth.
The magic he had detected at the moment of Wigmon and Palmon's vanishing matched the magic from this man.
'......'
He, too, had manifested in this world like Palmon, but unlike Palmon, had been summoned by 7th Legion convicts hastily learning dark magic.
As a result, he was even weaker than Palmon had been upon appearing.
And not just him—the other Great Devils manifesting soon would be in the same situation.
'I must not face that one just yet.'
Watching the two approach the king, Goramon silently backed out of the audience hall.