Dimensions Collide: Destiny Bond

Chapter 229: The Weight of Mortality



Chapter 229: The Weight of Mortality

Prota clenched her teeth upon seeing the other cultists. From her memory, they were far stronger than the beast they’d just fought.

“Hm. I didn’t expect her to be on her own,” one of the cultists sneered.

“Is it an issue?”

“It is now, you idiot!”

“Are you stupid? Our goal was to let them know we’re here. There’s no harm in letting the chicklings run back.”

“But… wouldn’t it be more of a message if some of them died?”

“Hm… that’s a good point, but-”

Their speech was interrupted as Prota sent a Frozen Bullet their way. It immediately pierced through the cultist’s head, delivering what should have been an instant kill. Unfortunately, while this did knock the cultist’s hood off, it also revealed that it was the red-haired woman.

The same woman who hadn’t gotten killed by a Frozen Cannon in her previous life.

In a moment, her wound was filled with flames, and the flesh regenerated as if nothing had happened.

“Ugh. Well, now I have to kill all of you. Rat!”

The third cultist raised his arms, and the safety devices attached to everyone’s arms immediately snapped off, flying to his hands.

“...his name is Rat?” Destiny muttered.

Rat or not, what he’d just done was incredibly dangerous. In an instant, he snapped them all, forcing their activation and rendering them useless.

Death really meant death now.

“Ryan,” Lilith whimpered.

“It’s- it’s ok. We’ll manage.”

Prota cursed herself. If she had known this would happen, she would’ve just sent them back…

Well, no. That wasn’t true. If that were the case, then all her convictions might as well not exist. It was her place to help her friends, but it wasn’t her job to control them. Of course, that story changed entirely if she couldn’t handle the current situation, but she was still fairly confident in her ability to deal with these enemies.

Or… was she?

To be honest, she didn’t know what these two cultists were capable of. In the first place, they’d never really gone all out against her, as far as she could tell, and it wasn’t like they were here to deal with potential threats. They were just here to cause a stir.

Sofya had dealt with them, but Prota couldn’t claim to be at Sofya’s level of strength, not yet.

Suddenly, things were looking a lot more grim.

“Destiny,” she said quietly. “...red haired one. For you.”

“Dumping the difficult one on me, huh?” he laughed. “Fine, I’ll-”

“Use it.”

Destiny flinched. He’d been around her enough to instinctively know what that meant.

“...ah. That ability… fine, fine. You’ll deal with the others?”

“One of them weak. You said so.”

“I did? Oh. I- ok, I understand.”

Thankfully, despite the fact that the cultists seemed raring to go, it also seemed that they were willing to wait. Well, they seemed like the playful sort, but not in a good way.

However, for the time being, it was good for Prota.

“Will they… be ok?” Destiny said hesitantly.

Prota cast a quick glance back. The twins were shaking, but just like in her last life, there was a fire in their eyes. They were afraid, but they were also determined.

“...I’ll try.”

“Good to know.”

With that, Destiny leapt into battle. The red-haired cultist scoffed, but was quickly forced to take him seriously when faced with his blade. The hero quickly pushed her deeper into the forest, leaving just Prota and the Rose twins.

“Hmph. You should’ve said your goodbyes,” one of the cultists scoffed. “That boy is as good as dead.”

“...focus.”

“Who, me? As if I’d need to focus against a child the likes of you-”

Mana flared up as he barely dodged an attack. An icicle shot past him at mach speeds, cleaving through two trees before thudding to a stop in a third.

“You-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence before the icicle exploded. It’d been a Blossom.

Not the Frozen Bullet Prota had used earlier, but a Frozen Cannon. A spell she had yet to reveal, not because of its complexity, but because of its lethality.

“Wow. So the chicklings really do peck well, huh?”

Unfortunately for Prota, it seemed the cultist was perfectly fine. Strange. She was sure that one of the petals from the Cannon would have connected, but the man had apparently dodged all of them. Well, this wouldn’t be her last opportunity to attack.

“Prota,” Lilith muttered. “Will we… be ok?”

“Focus. On living. Don’t need to kill,” Prota said quietly. “Don’t need to fight. Just make sure… no regrets.”

Lilith nodded, with Ryan holding her shoulders. While the two would be a hassle to defend, they were also relatively calm. If they weren’t panicking, it would make it infinitely easier to defend them, and that was something Prota was grateful for.

“Alright, Rat!” the cultist exclaimed. “Do it!”

The other cultist chuckled a weird, raspy laugh and then threw down a magic circle. Prota frowned. A magic circle? In hindsight, she didn’t know much about them, mainly because there hadn’t been many times when they’d been relevant. What was this supposed to do?

“R-Ryan,” Lilith stammered. “I can’t- I can’t use magic.”

Prota’s eyes widened.

Mana was still flowing in her body. It wasn’t being cut off. But Lilith was right.

It wouldn’t go further than that.

“Alright! You’re a caster, aren’t you, chick? Let’s see if you can dodge this!”

Prota’s eyes flashed as she immediately fed mana to her nervous system. She could see it. The arrow’s path. She just needed to dodge to the right.

Time flew back to normal, and the arrow barely whizzed by her head.

“Oh, that’s right. You’re a slippery little one, ain’t ya?” the cultist laughed. “Well, let’s see if you can keep up!”

Prota clenched her teeth. She was confident in her ability to dodge, but what was the point in dodging if you couldn’t hit back? Eventually, she’d get tired. Even if that time came later, was there really a point?

Come to think of it, there was. Destiny. If he could finish his fight, he was far better a fighter than she was.

Another arrow whizzed by her head.

“Anta,” she muttered.

That was another fighter who could deal with this mess, right?

“No, not yet,” Anta replied. “Just… let’s wait.”

“...why?”

“Because of Hikari. If you don’t remember, they’re the one who set up this scenario. They’re probably watching. You’ve been showing only a little more than what we showed before, but if we show everything, that’s a problem.”

That didn’t answer the question.

“Why?”

“Do you really think we’re strong enough to fight them right now?”

“...fine.”

“If we have to, sure. But just… let’s wait for the hero a little longer, alright?”

Prota clenched her fists, trying not to show her nerves. It was hard. Aside from fighting Doctor, it was the first time she’d been fighting with such stakes on the line, but unlike the fight with Doctor, the situation was out of her control.

Her own life was something she didn’t care much for, mainly because she felt that if she lost in a fight, she wouldn’t be able to beat John anyway. However, it was a different story entirely when she was responsible for the lives of others.

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Whether or not Destiny came back wasn’t under her purview.

“Well, think of it this way,” Anta suggested. “If Destiny hadn’t been here, you would’ve been screwed anyway, right?”

Unfortunately, there was no time for a reply. Another arrow shot right past Prota, cleaving clean through a tree. Taking a single good hit likely meant death, and if not that, death would soon follow anyway.

But dodging was something Prota was confident in.

One arrow. Another. Another. Prota didn’t know what was going on with her friends, but she could only hope they were safe. There was a very low likelihood that they were doing anything stupid, especially considering they couldn’t cast any spells, but it wasn’t like Prota had the luxury of checking at the moment.

A fourth arrow. A fifth.

For a moment, Prota considered picking up one of the arrows and throwing them back at their owner, but that idea was quickly rejected. If this man could shoot arrows at such high speeds, then it was likely he could dodge anything she threw at him.

“What’s wrong, chickling?” the cultist laughed. “Having trouble?”

Then again, there was no harm in trying.

Prota rolled to the side, dodging yet another arrow, sticking out her arm to grab one of the fallen arrows in the process. Using the momentum of her roll, she quickly got back up to her feet, using the rising motion to jump up. This would leave her open to another shot, but she was hoping that the cultist would either fail to hit her in the process of dodging, or would get hit in an effort to shoot his bow.

As it turned out, the answer was neither. The man lowered his bow and watched in amusement.

“What’s a caster like you going to do?” he laughed. “You know what? Try it.”

Prota felt a shot of fear shoot through her body, but it was too late to back off now. If this was a trap, she didn’t want to fall into it, but at the same time she had no other choice but to play into the enemy’s hands.

With all her might, she threw.

She could feel the muscles in her arm tensing up, building an explosive power much like the feeling of mana gathering before a spell. Perception sped up as she applied even more mana to her nervous system, and this time, she let everything go through.

The miraculous world she’d once felt the first time she’d used this skill was now something she could handle.

Air brushing over her skin. Millions of particles of light entering her eyes. Hundreds of smells. Vibrant colours she’d never even dreamed of.

The tensing and loosening of her muscles, lunging forward like the motion of a whip, the rough texture of the wooden shaft in her hand, the imbalance of weight with the metal tip at the front, she could feel it all.

Her target wasn’t the bowman.

Suddenly, the miraculous world vanished, and the arrow flew out of Prota’s hand. It was aimed not at the enemy she’d been fighting, nor was it at the other cultist, but the single piece of paper on the ground.

If she could get her spells back, the battle was won.

“Wha- dammit!”

The cultist realized, just a little too late, what was going on.

However, his realization was enough.

With his arm, he managed to block the arrow, keeping the magic circle safe from damage. Prota fell back to the ground with a thud, clenching her teeth as she got back up.

“You- you pest!”

The cultist was clearly upset. Well, it was possible he’d been confident in absolutely dominating his opponents. Prota could sympathize to an extent. If she had messed up against an opponent she should’ve easily defeated, she’d be upset too.

But then again, her upbringing didn’t let her be all that cocky.

“That’s it. I was playing with you, but it seems you’re the one I need to deal with last.”

He grunted, ripping the arrow out of his arm and pouring a potion over it.

Prota’s eyes widened. Her head whipped around. The twins were nowhere to be found. Good. Then—

“Ah, there they are.”

A few stands of blue hair were poking out from a rock. She heard the sound of a bowstring being drawn, slowly and deliberately, and she immediately knew her friends wouldn’t be able to dodge in time.

Without the ability to cast a barrier, she used the only barrier she had left.

There was a loud snap as the arrow was released, but it didn’t smash into rock like the cultist had been expecting. Instead, there was a loud thunk, followed by a loud crack, the sound of bone being smashed to pieces.

“Oh? Interesting.”

Prota stood there, blood dripping from her arm, and an arrow lodged inside. The mana reinforcement running through her body made it so her arm hadn’t been blown off completely, but the power of the shot wasn’t going to be deflected, either.

“So you’d rather risk your own life than let the two useless ones die, hm? You might have saved yourself if you had continued to stick around, but you cherish those two. Interesting, interesting. Alright. Let’s play a little game, then.”

That was bad. He hadn’t said it, but the cultist’s intentions were clear.

After all, they wanted Prota. From what it seemed, they wanted Prota alive.

But the others were as good as dead, as long as they were on the island.

The sound of the bow being drawn was faster this time, the faint ruffle of an arrow being notched deafeningly loud in the otherwise quiet atmosphere.

Another snap.

Another crack.

Prota obviously wasn’t trying to just sacrifice herself, but the arrows were flying in a strange trajectory. She was trying to catch them, but such an act was unrealistic. Instead, the arrow was lodged into her hand, blood now dripping down both of her upper limbs.

She could potentially use her staff to try and whack the arrows away, but she didn’t know how to use aura, and she didn’t want to risk destroying the gift from John she could never get back.

So she stood there, staring defiantly.

“How many more times do you think you can do that?” the cultist laughed. “You’ve only got so many limbs that can take a non-lethal shot.”

Prota didn’t bother responding.

She hadn’t expected the battle to take such a turn.

At this moment, she was understanding the weight of protecting. While John was weak, his combat experience made him useful. And although Prota hated to admit it, at this moment, the Rose twins were somewhat useless. Worse than that. They were an active detriment. If they hadn’t been here, the battle would have turned out completely different.

But this was what protecting meant.

She’d already realized it. She couldn’t only take along people who could fight. She couldn’t always have strong allies she could claim to protect. If she wanted to understand what protecting meant, she couldn’t just say she was protecting the strongest being she’d ever met.

No promise had been made to protect the Rose twins.

But they were her friends.

She wouldn’t let them die here.

There was no lesson to be learned. The power of friendship and companions was strong, yes, but Prota had also realized that it was nothing in the face of someone stronger. There was no such thing as winning just because you had friends on your side. Ultimately, if you did win with numbers, it was only due to the fact that your numbers had a better combat ability than the enemy.

But Prota wasn’t gathering friends for the sake of winning a fight. As far as she was concerned, friendship and battle were two different things entirely. She didn’t fight battles to gain friends.

And she didn’t gain friends to fight battles.

To her, the world was a lonely place. John had extended his hand to her, but she had resolved herself to fight for him, even before knowing he could fight for himself.

Friends were a rather foreign concept to her as well. What were friends? People she knew? People she saw regularly? No, if that were all it was, Draco would be a friend, and she would never consider him as such.

Was it people she cared for? In a sense, yes, but she cared for Destiny’s family but wouldn’t necessarily consider them friends.

“Are you distracted?” the cultist laughed. “You can’t afford to be focusing on anything else!”

Prota gasped as she threw her body to the side, catching an arrow in her leg. She tried to get back up, but her leg buckled under her weight. If only she had her Charm of Healing… but that was a reward for after this event, not to use during it.

“...no,” Prota gasped. “I won’t… move…”

She closed her eyes, sensing for souls. The twins had moved. From their perspective, it was definitely a smart move.

Unfortunately, there was no way children like them could understand just how skilled their opponent was. There was no way he’d missed their movements.

“Changing your mind?!” the cultist laughed, pointing his bow toward their new hiding spot.

Prota lunged again, forcing her body to move, catching yet another arrow to her right arm.

These people were nothing but burdens. They served no purpose here. Their presence didn’t even cheer her up, although she was glad that they’d become friends in this life as well. But right now, she’d rather they stay strangers and alive than friends but dead.

Yet, despite that.

Victory in this moment was not simply defeating the opponent.

But claiming what she wanted.

Even if she had to suffer this pain, this humiliation, she wouldn’t yield. What Anta had said echoed in her mind.

“Right! That’s harder, isn’t it? And yet you’re doing it anyway. Because you believe it’s the right thing to do. So go and do it!”

Prota didn’t know what the next steps were, nor did she know what to do about this situation.

But she understood, now. The weight of the lives of those around her. The countless people who only used magic for daily life, the lives of villagers and citizens who simply carried on day to day, ignorant of the battles going on.

Perhaps, in a truly crucial manner, they weren’t of much use. Perhaps they could even be called liabilities

But to her, their worth was no less.

Because they weren’t just [Characters].

They were [People].

“Just give up!” the cultist yelled. “Why suffer? Give in and die already!”

“...no.”

Another arrow sent Prota reeling. She stumbled back, slumping against a tree, but struggled back to her feet.

“P-Prota,” Lilith stammered. “You don’t-”

“No. You can’t… do anything… here,” Prota gasped. “Even if you try… only die.”

“But-”

“It’s ok. My choice. If you want to help… just stay alive. Please.”

Not out of a sense of sacrifice. Not because of an investment.

But simply to protect that which she held dear.

Another arrow slammed into her shoulder. This one had been clearly aimed at her, rather than the children behind her. The cultist was mocking her.

“Fine. You want to suffer?” he sighed. “I’ll humour you a little longer.”

Another arrow pierced her left leg, and she collapsed, unable to hold herself up.

She could curse her circumstances. She could curse the world that had made her into who she was.

But this wasn’t the fault of those who simply wished to live.

There was nothing to gain from this. No hope of some miracle happening, just because she was being courageous. Perhaps she lived in a story, but she had no clue whether or not a deus ex machina would take place or not.

Ultimately, all sorts of [Characters] made up a story. There were those who needed protection. There were those who couldn’t help themselves. Those who couldn’t hope to ever repay the debts they owed.

“What are you even doing? You could have gotten a hit in if you had just kept fighting!” the cultist yelled, clearly looking down on the girl. “Is it worth it? What do you even hope to accomplish? Are you waiting for your friend? Is that it? Hate to break it to you, but he ain’t coming back!”

Prota didn’t say anything. She just got back up. Blood poured down her body, staining her dress and cloak. Her snow white hair was dyed a crimson red, pressed and matted against her body, yet her blue eyes stared defiantly at the enemy.

A protector was a sword and shield.

She had wielded the sword against Doctor.

It was in a position like this that needed the shield.

But no shield could be made, nor could one be found.

So instead, her body would be the shield. The shield that protects that which she wished to protect.

“I was told to bring you in alive… but it’s ok if your body is mangled up. This is the last one,” the cultist said.

It seemed he’d gotten tired of playing around.

Prota closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she readied herself. She hadn’t given up. Not yet. Just one more arrow.

“Prota!”

Suddenly, she felt cold, soft hands on her arm. Human contact. Something she hadn’t felt in so long. Her eyes snapped open to see Lilith, trying to push her to the side.

Sacrifice.

Unfortunately, Lilith wasn’t nearly strong enough to move Prota.

“...sorry,” Prota muttered quietly.

The arrow pierced through her chest, pinning her to a tree. She immediately coughed violently, blood trickling out of her mouth. Her vision was hazy. Was it over? Had she failed to even protect her friends?

“Prota!”

Ah. That was right.

Just as much as there were [Characters] to protect…

There were those who were there to defend.

A hero was a hero, after all.

“What- how did you defeat her? What kind of student are you?” the cultist cried out.

“Your worst nightmare.”

Prota couldn’t see well, but she could still see the golden aura surrounding Destiny’s blade as he cleaved through the cultist, ending his life in one clean stroke. With a whirl, he swung his blade again, killing the cultist known as Rat before he could run away.

“Prota! Are you alright? What happened?”

“D-Destiny, you have to help her!” Lilith exclaimed, tears pouring down her eyes. “Please, you-”

“She’ll be fine. Do you have any potions?”

“N-no, we never found any…”

“Then we’ll have to hope this is enough. Ryan, do you think you can control your flames?”

“Y-yes,” the boy said, startled at having been brought into the conversation. “But… why?”

“We need to cauterize the wounds.”

“Cauterize?”

“First aid- no matter. Just do as I tell you.”

The voices were slowly fading away, but that was alright. If Destiny had a potion, she’d likely be fine. It seemed she was often fainting at the end of these fights, but this time, she was rather satisfied with the results.

Lilith crying over her, holding her hand, Ryan trying to focus on maintaining a flame small enough to close her wounds, Destiny holding two potions…

These [Characters] didn’t need to help her. They didn’t need to save her.

Ultimately, they didn’t need a purpose.

As long as she could call them friends…

For Prota, that was enough.

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