Chapter 27
Chapter 27. A Rose That Falls Gracefully (1)
The process of alchemy activation is as follows.
First, the caster uses their magic power to draw out the power of elements from the alchemy catalyst.
The drawn elements pass through magic circuits and are constructed in a certain form—this refined power is called a 'Code.'
For instance, even using the same Wind Feather, if you only use the 'discharge' code, it becomes 'Calling Wind' that raises strong winds.
If you overlay two codes like 'compression' and 'discharge,' it becomes 'Running Wind.'
It sounds easy when said, but if that were the case, the world would overflow with high-rank alchemists.
Constructing codes.
Overlaying them.
Both must be done under strict laws, control, and calculation.
There were plenty of cases where alchemists who used magic without difficulty in laboratories couldn't display their true abilities once they entered actual combat.
This was because the urgency of life and death passing in a split second induced mistakes.
In that sense, Penelope was doing extremely well.
Amplification, compression, discharge, detonation.
Magic with four overlaid codes.
"Roar of the Wind God."
Though it was magic made by overlaying 'Universal Codes,' it was a 4th Rank wind-type magic.
—Kuwaaaaaa!!!!
The magic implemented without mistakes exploded.
Its power was strong enough to flip a heavy train with just the shockwave.
There was a reason alchemists were treated as main cannons on battlefields.
"Miss! It's dangerous to shoot that at people!"
The problem was the opponent wasn't good.
The Undertaker leisurely emerged through the dust despite the attack covering all directions.
His appearance throwing frivolous jokes even showed a hint of composure.
Penelope's gaze caught the shadow wavering like smoke around The Undertaker's body.
If alchemists of 5th Rank or higher could use 'Unique Codes,' Knights had 'Battle Aura.'
Battle Aura.
A unique technique appearing from the mixture of fighting instinct and magic power drawn from within.
The Undertaker's Battle Aura seemed to be the ability to manipulate shadows.
He had been engaging in battle by creating spears from shadows and throwing them or wrapping them around his body since a while ago.
Penelope's magic was repeatedly blocked by shadows and returned to nothing.
Even squeezing out all her strength, all she could do was deflect throwing spears and hinder his approach.
She hadn't managed a proper counterattack even once.
Even that made it clear The Undertaker wasn't using his full power.
He was revealing leisurely sadism like a cat playing with a mouse.
"Miss, don't you have more? You can do better!"
The Undertaker let out a bloody laugh, rotated his body, and threw his spear with added centrifugal force.
Unlike alchemists specialized in discharging magic power outward, Knights were beings specialized in condensing it inward.
Though it was merely throwing a spear, a 5th Rank Knight's throwing spear became a black straight line that caused explosions and shook the earth.
"Kugh!!!"
Penelope, caught in the aftermath, rolled on the ground several times before barely raising her body.
"Can a noble young lady roll around on the ground without dignity?"
"......"
"Aah, didn't I choose my profession incredibly well? Where else in the world is there such a fun workplace?"
Actually, there was no need to involve Rosemore's youngest daughter.
What Blyton requested was merely disposing of that commoner without leaving traces.
Targeting Penelope as well in the process of accepting the commission was a choice that shouldered unnecessary risk.
However, The Undertaker hated nobles.
He had devoted his entire life for great Britannia.
In the kingdom's deepest shadow, deployed to the most dangerous missions, he risked his life for the country.
Everything was for the homeland.
However, his homeland abandoned him as soon as a ceasefire agreement was concluded with the Alcand Empire.
Not only was he expelled from the organization he belonged to, they erased records and issued pursuit orders to kill him.
Everything was because of those noble bastards.
Dirty pigs who didn't even know whose sacrifice created the peace they enjoyed, sitting in the most glorious and comfortable places acting haughty.
"A piglet is still a pig."
So he wanted to see it.
The sight of those eyes shining with false pride and pitiful courage clouding with despair.
The disgraceful sight of struggling for life but ultimately consumed by fear, squealing oink oink.
"Hang in there! Miss! It's almost here! If you just hang in there a bit more, you might survive!"
"Haa... haa..."
"I'm really at my limit! Don't give up and come at me!"
The Undertaker clapped his hands encouraging Penelope.
Penelope wiped away beads of sweat and pulled out the next catalyst.
However, this was an inertial action.
Penelope was struggling but may have accepted defeat in her heart.
Her body, which repeatedly used magic at full power, tingled as if electricity flowed through it.
She learned for the first time that circuit overheating could hurt this much.
Stamina and magic heat approached depletion moment by moment, and her whole body was full of wounds from rolling, tumbling, and falling.
She received Jurgen's encouragement and gained courage.
She bolstered her fighting spirit.
However, before the overwhelming difference in force, even the courage she barely mustered merely became an object of mockery.
The wall of 5th Rank that had tormented Penelope all her life,
Was solid even at this moment that might be her life's end.
Frustrating.
She only held on with stubbornness—frustrating enough to bring tears.
If it would end up like this anyway, why did she muster courage?
Why did Jurgen stupidly believe in Penelope and remain here?
The hopeless case whom no one, not even herself, could trust.
"Jurgen, run away even now. I'll, I'll somehow manage here."
So this was an escape.
Because she wanted to believe 'At least Jurgen ran away, right?' at the moment of losing her life to The Undertaker.
Because she wanted to ruminate 'Still, I did my best.'
A lie she told herself.
Jurgen said.
"I'm remaining here because I believe in Miss Penelope."
So what?
The result of believing in me is this.
In the end, I couldn't even protect you.
"But actually, my belief isn't very important."
He shrugged and made light banter.
"How about Miss Penelope believing in herself for once?"
At those words, Penelope stopped abruptly.
"Believe... in myself?"
An inferior student.
A loser.
A noble lady merely plated with thin gold leaf.
The more failures repeated, self-conviction faded day by day.
She held nothing in her hands, and what remained was stubbornness close to obstinacy and defense mechanisms.
She wore the most splendid red dress before people who mocked her.
Look at me, I'm not affected at all no matter what you say, she danced while repeating.
Because she couldn't believe in herself, she obsessed over appearances,
Because she obsessed over appearances, inner emptiness deepened.
Because there were too many to resent, she hated her only self,
After repeating self-hatred, she came to not believe in herself.
Therefore Penelope was empty.
"You're telling me to believe in someone like me?"
She knew.
This self-torture, doubt. It was sickening now.
Unseemly self-pity could only happen once or twice.
Begging for other's faith and gaining clumsy courage from just one word,
Arbitrarily throwing away barely gained courage,
The weakness of sulking then throwing tantrums again when things didn't work out after acting spoiled.
Hateful.
She hated herself like this.
Always, all along, she wanted to become a better person.
Her heart sank to the deep sea.
Cold and salty despair seeping through as if causing osmosis wrapped around her body.
Penelope closed her eyes.
That's enough now.
Let's give up everything.
'You really are utterly useless, aren't you?'
Sister Clarisse's mockery heard until the very end stabbed her ears.
This was a memory of when Penelope ultimately couldn't overcome the wall of 5th Rank and couldn't learn the family's unique code 'Full Bloom.'
This memory became a nightmare that bound Penelope in later days.
A nightmare that surged up unexpectedly from time to time even though she didn't want it.
"...No, come to think of it, I'm pissed off."
Penelope, who had given up everything and closed her eyes.
Sharp red eyes found light again.
What held her fighting spirit that was about to break and collapse wasn't courage, pride, or spirit of sacrifice.
It wasn't such splendid and noble emotions.
Right.
Humans all love themselves dearly more than anyone even knowing they're shabby.
It couldn't be endured without love.
The mental image that bloomed in Penelope at the moment of hearing her sister's final mockery was...
The most intense emotion that she, a loser, had lived with as a companion for half her life.
Bravado and obstinacy.
Right, the family's unique code Full Bloom?
I'll admit it. That's amazing.
The moment brilliantly bloomed magical flower buds opened all at once and scattered felt even sublime.
The dazzle of Full Bloom always shined at the opposite end from Penelope.
As if whispering you'll never obtain this light.
"But so what."
Just because I can't do that one thing, I'm useless?
Is this me?
The mother of Cola?
Penelope pulled out an alchemy catalyst.
The nuisance she made with her own hands but carried around like a talisman for lack of codes to utilize it.
The fire-type alchemy catalyst 'Red Rose' bloomed from sulfur and gunpowder.
"Ignition."
Flames surged from Red Rose that absorbed magic power.
Flames as hot as the sense of defeat, inferiority, and jealousy she had felt.
"Diffusion."
Raging flames diffused, burning everything.
"Formation."
Taking shape like rose vines.
"Condensation."
Forming large, luscious buds.
Up to here was the same sequence as the family's unique magic, 'Rosemore's Garden.'
If the unique code 'Full Bloom' entered the final fifth code, it would be complete.
However, what she pursued wasn't Rosemore magic.
As always, Penelope's life didn't suit splendid words like Full Bloom.
Instead.
"Falling Petals."
Pathetic, greedy, always thirsting for recognition, a weak coward but...
Magic of a loser who ended up loving even her inner weakness.
Magic solely for Penelope.
"Fall gracefully..."
If she named that magic.
"...Garden of the Fool."
It would be the garden of a fool.
"Excellent, Miss Penelope. Perfect score."
Along with praise heard from somewhere.
—!!!!!!!!!!
The flower of flames fell.
Petals fluttering while holding fearsome flames covered everything in view.
***
"Keh-hek... kek! Ugh, smoke."
The Undertaker threw off his coat that had burned black.
"Ah, it was a coat I cherished."
The quite severe burns remaining under the scorched old coat stung.
Though not enough to immediately threaten his life, The Undertaker acknowledged.
He almost pissed himself.
"What if you awaken at a moment of crisis? I almost really died."
The Undertaker's gaze turned toward the young lady embraced in the commoner's arms.
A noble young lady who fainted from the recoil of squeezing out magic power.
Without the large alchemy altar 'Magic Eater' received from dark mage bastards, he would have burned without fail.
Actually, 'Magic Eater,' which swallowed most magic intact, overheated bright red after eating that young lady's magic.
"Well, doesn't matter."
Since he carried it around to use in times like this anyway.
What was important was something else.
"By the way, commoner friend, what are you?"
The commoner holding the fainted young lady in his arms.
He definitely wasn't an ordinary commoner.
That young lady lost consciousness the moment she completed magic and was caught in the aftermath of the flames caused by her own magic.
That commoner pulled her in as if catching her, then protected her by creating a transparent barrier.
Putting aside the nimble body movements shown then, the transparent barrier he displayed was 2nd Rank alchemy called 'force field.'
Come to think of it, when he thought he hit him with a throwing spear, he walked out fine too.
The Undertaker looked intently at the commoner and realized something.
"I definitely feel like I met you somewhere... huh?"
If it was just déjà vu when monitoring from afar, now it became certain.
This feeling.
This atmosphere.
That physique and the scars revealed between torn clothes.
Unbelievable.
Was it really?
"Captain? Is that you? You're Captain Hanbin, right? Do you remember me? It's me!"
Before The Undertaker, who was making a fuss as if genuinely surprised, Jurgen sighed.
"Wow! How long has it been, Captain! When was the last time we met? Why are you holed up in such a backwater? I heard you even worked as Minister of Internal Affairs!"
He suspected the moment he first saw the 'Battle Aura' using shadows.
He almost solidified his conviction seeing the frivolous words and actions.
He also wondered if he'd recognize this side, and he did.
Well, Polymorph Potion changed face and voice but not physique.
He was always a guy with sharp instincts.
"It's been a while. Cain."
It seemed old ties really couldn't be easily severed.