“Let’s see... You can at least get one up on them.”
And hearing that, the children all looked plainly disappointed.
“Awwww! It’s not enough to finish ‘em?” “Then it’s pointless.” “They’ll just punch us right away. I wanna finish ‘em off.” “Yeah! I wanna kill ‘em!”
Seeing the children start to say some pretty dangerous things, Zagan lightly flicked one of them on the head.
“You fools. Do you plan on killing someone for a single slice of bread every single time? If you keep doing something like that, you’ll get killed by those damned adults immediately and that’ll be it. Don’t forget. They’re far stronger than you. If you’re gonna go that far, then at least get strong enough to protect yourself and those around you before you do it.”
“So it’s fine to do it...”
The children were somewhat taken aback by this.
“That’s why you can’t use the art I taught you.”
“Whaaa? So what point is there in learning it?!”
Zagan flicked the forehead of the child who cut in right away before continuing.
“You’re all powerless brats. That’s a disadvantage, but also an advantage. Precisely because you’re powerless brats, your crimes will be resolved just by being beat a little. Make full use of the fact that you’re brats while you can.”
Zagan paused for a moment, then looked all the children in the eyes before continuing.
“However, using arts would be throwing away the fact that you’re brats. Even if you look like one, the adults would kill you if you walked around with a blade, right? It’s the same thing.”
“...So, why teach us this?”
It was an obvious question, to which Zagan nodded with a sincere look.
“It’s so that you have a choice other than quietly dying when you or one of your friends is in great danger.”
As long as they lived here in this place, it was a moment that was sure to come.
Especially if they get involved with sorcerers.
That was precisely why, despite this being his old haunt where he met Marc, Zagan had never tried even coming close to here before. Coming here was his very last resort when he really had no more clues at all, and that was his exact predicament.
Zagan once more took a look at the waifs before him.
“When that time comes, use these arts without hesitation. Throw away the fact that you’re brats. If you do, you can at least buy time for you and the others to run away. This is power for that purpose.”
He wasn’t sure if what he was saying got through of them. There were those looking at him rebelliously, and those who seemed bewildered, but all the children were quiet and listening to him attentively.
He then noticed that there was a single girl looking on from outside the pack of children. Zagan shifted his gaze over to her. The waifs were from all manner of races, but this girl appeared to be a human. She had faint blonde hair and deep blue eyes. If she were to wear some nice clothes, she may have looked like a proper young lady, but unfortunately, she was covered in dirt and couldn’t really be distinguished from the boys.
“What’s wrong? You look like you have something to say.”
“...Why is a sorcerer being kind? Someone told us... any adult trying to be kind to us is lying.”
She bluntly laid out her hostility, though she did so fearfully and timidly. And with that cautious tone pointed at him, Zagan nodded in admiration.
“That’s right. You should thank the one who bestowed you with that knowledge. Naturally, I’m not going to teach you this for free.”
A look of fear spread across the children’s faces.
Well, it’s good for them to fear sorcerers.
If one tried to live in the alleys and threw away their sense of wariness, only death awaited them. Zagan pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and cut to the chase.
“Have you lot seen the guy in this picture? The one with glasses in the middle. This is him ten years ago, so he should be an adult now...”
It was the picture of three dirty children, a reproduction of what he had handed over to Raphael in the morning. There were only three people in the world who could currently use this sorcery including Zagan. The children leaned forward in curiosity, having forgotten their fear from moments ago, and inspected the mysteriously detailed Memorandum. However, none present recognized the boy in glasses.
“Dunno.” “Never seen him.” “Oh I know, these are glasses.” “This is my first time seeing glasses.” “Can I sell this picture?”
The children were saying whatever came to mind, to which Zagan questioned them further in a reassuring tone.
“So how about a suspicious guy who was kind to you lot like I was?”
“Never.” “Mm. Archdemon’s the first.”
Zagan was hoping that Marc had taught them arts like he did for Zagan back in the day, but that didn’t appear to be the case either.
“I see... Whatever. I’ll come teach you arts again, so let me know if you see this guy or remember anything about him.”
Ten years had already passed since this picture was taken. The probability that these children knew anything about him was fairly low. Zagan knew this, but this was his last clue. It all led him to just want to sigh. He wasn’t able to hide the disappointment in his voice, and noticing this, the small girl from outside the pack tilted her head to the side. She then pointed at the Memorandum.
“Hey, is the one drawn over here a small Archdemon?”
Next to Marc in the picture was a younger Zagan making an unpleasant face.
“Yeah. That’s me. Back when I was eight.”
“You’re smaller than me.” “The Archdemon was a brat too!”
The girl then curiously cocked her head to the other side.
“Why did you become a sorcerer?”
It was a natural question to have, but Zagan pointed to the Memorandum himself with in a tiresome manner.
“I was about to be killed by a sorcerer right after this, and I became one after killing him instead.”
All the children fell silent at his answer. In other words, Zagan was one of those who had put away being a brat because he was about to be killed by an adult. It was something the children here might also face one day.
As Zagan rose to his feet, the girl timidly called out to him.
“Hey, next time, could you teach me those arts too... please?”
“...Next time.”
Zagan bopped the girl on the head, when suddenly one of the other children raised their voice, having suddenly remembered something.
“Oh!”
“Did you remember something about this guy?”
Zagan bent down at the waste and questioned the child, but the child shook his head.
“Nuh-uh. Not that. Is the reason you taught us about arts today ‘cause it’s Alshiere Imera?”
Zagan knit his brows at the unfamiliar word.
“What’s that Alshiere thing...?”
It vaguely resembled the name of a certain vampire, making it sound like a bad omen. And all the children exchanged looks with each other, including the girl from outside the pack.
“Hey Archdemon, you don’t know about Alshiere Imera?”
“It’s my first time hearing of it. It sounds like something related to the church. What is it?”
Zagan curiously questioned the children, who suddenly looked sad... or rather, looked like they pitied him. And then, with no warning, they hugged Zagan.
“Wh-What’s with you lot?”
“Poor Archdemon.” “Come back whenever you want.” “I think of you as a friend, Archdemon!” “You’re not alone Archdemon!”
“G-Gah! Let me go! I’m busy!”
And with such incomprehensible sympathy poured down on him, Zagan escaped the alley in a panic.
◇
“...Seriously, what’s going on today?”
Zagan felt like strange things were happening all day. Such
was the case with the waifs suddenly showing him incomprehensible sympathy, but there was also the matter of Nephy leaving the castle without saying a single thing to him, and how Raphael was acting somewhat strange. Thinking about it carefully, he felt like Foll was acting somewhat fidgety and restless as well.
Something was happening, and only he knew nothing about it. That’s what it felt like. He was somewhat concerned over this, but Zagan shook his head.
There’s just too many unresolved issues going on at once, my mind may just be muddled from all that.
The biggest problem was his one-month investigation of Marc showing absolutely no progress at all. Alshiera left him with Marc’s glasses as a clue. The sorcery to trace the owner’s mana when they had been wearing them for a long period of time wasn’t all that complicated. It should have been simple to follow the lead, but the mana trail didn’t lead anywhere.
He didn’t just disappear under natural circumstances. Something out there erased all the trail so thoroughly that it led to nothing. It was as if he was the target of an Archdemon’s retribution, like he didn’t exist from the very beginning.
That’s entirely possible, but both me and Stella learned how to survive from him.
So just what did it mean? Zagan came out of the alley while deep in thought, and found a familiar face waiting for him.
“Judging from your face, it looks like you couldn’t find anything either, Sir Zagan.”
It was a sorcerer with the face of a lion. He had a black mane and golden eyes. He was tall enough that even Zagan had to look up at him, and one could see from his muscles that he possessed enough strength to pulverize stone with his fists without even having to rely on sorcery. And yet, he belonged to a race of therianthropes that could be put right next to the elves and cait siths when it came to the scarcity of their populations.
He was one of Zagan’s trusted subordinates, his right hand man, Kimaris. This was the man Zagan turned to when he reached his limit investigating this matter on his own. However, contrary to his ferocious appearance, Kimaris’ expression was quite unsteady.
“My apologies. I was unable to trace the scent from these glasses back to its owner.”
Kimaris held out Marc’s glasses. As far as Zagan knew, there was nobody in the world who could trace a scent better than Kimaris could. The cait sith Kuroka’s sense of smell was amplified by her loss of sight, but nevertheless, she would surely not be able to compare to this sorcerer.
“You too, huh...? Sorry for making you tag along on this chore.”
“Think nothing of it, I am fully aware that if you say that this is necessary for you Sir Zagan, then it is surely something that is necessary for us as well.”
“Hmph, you won’t get anything for flattering me.”
Kimaris shifted his attention over to the alley Zagan came out of.
“But is it alright not to teach those children how to speak to others? If it were anyone but you, it would have been quite serious.”
They didn’t show a single hint of respect even when talking to an Archdemon. Zagan could understand what Kimaris was saying, but all he could do was shrug his shoulders anyway.
“Isn’t it laughable for a sorcerer to preach about etiquette? Besides, that lot are cleverly surviving by accumulating trash. They’ll at least be able to acquire wisdom all on their own.”
Zagan’s response was astonishing, but Kimaris actually found this quite pleasant and nodded.
“I really do think it was good fortune they were talking to you, Sir Zagan.”
“Those with good fortune wouldn’t be homeless on the streets to begin with.”
Having said that, it wasn’t all that troublesome for Zagan to have someone around him who would say that.
In any case, neither of them were able to find any clues on Marc, and Kimaris nodded with a heavy expression.
“Let’s get back on track. We were both unable to find a single trace by following the trail of mana and using your nose. The only conclusion I can think of is someone on the level of an Archdemon erasing all traces that would lead to him.”
“I have the same thought. In other words, it’s been set up so that man didn’t even exist in the first place.”
That also meant there was an extremely low probability that Marc was still alive, and it would be endlessly difficult to even search for what it was that he encountered.
“...Stella may have a clue regarding Marc, but...”
It wasn’t likely that he would ever meet her again. And remembering the face of his old friend, Zagan let out a sigh without even realizing it.
“Sir Zagan, is that the name of the one who was your good friend...?”
“Yeah. She’s being sheltered by Andrealphus right now. It’s better for the both of us if we don’t meet again.”
Zagan was the one who killed her family, and it was entirely possible that if she were able to recover, then she could live a life as a normal citizen without any relationship to sorcery or the like.
“Let’s continue our search steadily. There is no mistaking that you met him here ten years ago, Sir Zagan. I’m sure there is some clue lying about,” Kimaris said in an encouraging tone.
“...My goodness. I’m making others take me into consideration here, huh? Well, you’re right. Let’s patiently keep searching.”
It wasn’t like Zagan had given up, but his smile was so empty that it was clearly bravado. He then suddenly recalled something about the children’s behavior earlier.
“Oh yeah, Kimaris. Do you know what that thing called Alshiere something or other is?”
Zagan ran away from the children’s incomprehensible reaction earlier, but he was still wondering what exactly was going on. If it was something that came up while pursuing Marc, then he felt like he should at least understand what it was.
Kimaris’ shoulders trembled with a jolt.
“I don’t know if it’s the same thing as what I’m thinking of, but I do know of something with a similar name.”
“...So what is it?”
Zagan questioned the lion in a sharp tone, to which Kimaris shook his head.
“If you’re talking about Alshiere Imera, then it’s a ceremony extolling a saint of the church... I think.”
“A ceremony to extol a saint? Is that happening today?”
“Who knows? I’ve never heard what precise date it’s on, but it just might be so.”
Kimaris looked to be calm as he replied, but Zagan didn’t overlook the fact that his gaze was wandering ever so slightly.
“Hmmm... You’re hiding something... or rather, there’s something that’s hard for you to say?” Zagan said, folding his arms.
“...Sir Zagan, are you able to read minds?”
“I’m asking you because I can’t... but, whatever. If you won’t answer me, that must mean there’s a suitable reason for it.”
“My apologies. But, what I’ve told you so far is the truth.”
Zagan nodded in understanding.
If Alshiere is some kind of name, then perhaps the full phrase would mean Alshiere’s Day?
The god of the church had no name. If the name signified anyone, it would be the saint. However, those known as saints were rather suspicious. To begin with, they had to be people who performed some sort of miracle after they died. Apparently it wasn’t enough to be a hero who accomplished something amazing in exchange for their life. And even when they used the word miracle here, it covered a very wide range.
They were things like a deceased Archangel becoming his Sacred Sword and fighting on as the sword itself. Or a woman who possessed the power to heal enshrining her arm into a statue so that all who touched her statue even after her death were healed by her. Or one who left behind a sacred spring which could expel the undead. There were even more mundane cases like one who sowed seeds in a desert, or the girl who created a forest that would only sprout several hundreds of years later.
Speaking honestly, Zagan suspected that several of them were i
n fact sorcerers. The most famous of miracles, though, was one who resurrected after death. It was quite hypocritical of the church to extol that when they condemned the undead as an evil existence, but it wasn’t an incomplete existence like zombies or skeletons or even vampires who required blood. Apparently it was a full on resurrection as a human.
I mean, just the fact that they died and came back makes them inhuman.
That’s why Zagan laughed scornfully at the existence of saints before, but lately his thoughts on the matter changed just a little.
It’s possible that stories of the seraphs were transposed over the stories of saints.
It shouldn’t have been all that simple for even Marchosias to completely erase the history of something that existed before. There was a possibility that clues to their existence could have slipped by him and stayed within the church. Having said that, they were still an existence that Marchosias thoroughly wiped from the world. It shouldn’t have been something so easily available in the open that even the waifs in the alleys knew about it.
Zagan then shook his head to change his train of thought.
“Well, it’s probably faster to get information about church matters by asking people from the church.”
Chastille... apparently had business with Nephy, but Zagan could also resort to Kuroka or Richard, or even his sister-in-law Nephteros who was freeloading there. After he muttered that, though, Kimaris looked clearly flustered.
“S-Sir Zagan! If possible, could you just pretend that you never heard about Alshiere Imera?”
“Huh? Is it something troublesome for me to know about? Isn’t it a church ceremony?”
“That’s... if you wish it to be, then I will definitely answer you. But, just today... just for one day, I would like you to avert your eyes from it.”
Zagan had not known Kimaris for all that long, but this was the first time he had seen the lion get so desperate and plead for something.
If this guy is going so far...
If it was something that posed a danger to Zagan or anyone around him, then this man would definitely not act in this way. And since it couldn’t be helped, Zagan simply nodded.
“I got it, I got it. I won’t prod any further. Is that fine?”
“...Thank you very much.”
An Archdemon's Dilemma: How to Love Your Elf Bride: Volume 8 (Premium) Page 4