“My apologies. If I was just a little faster in getting here...”
“Oh my, how scary. So you say you’re too slow when you massacred near one hundred enemies in but an instant?”
She was smiling casually, but Kimaris could tell from her scent that she was getting impatient.
“They are overflowing even in the middle of town. This is clearly abnormal considering they are within Sir Zagan’s barrier.”
I wonder if it’s related to today being Alshiere Imera...
Alshiere Imera was a day of festivities, but it was also a day with a deep connection to death. It wasn’t all that unlikely for sorcery to be found there.
“Well, that cannot really be helped. In a manner of speaking, they are similar to lizards. Even when the tail is torn off, a new one will grow out immediately.”
Just as she finished mentioning it, a new shadow began crawling out of the corpse Alshiera was seated atop. And perhaps not having noticed it, she simply continued casually talking to Kimaris.
“So honestly speaking, you’re quite the big help, you know? As I am now, the most I can do is change my form and swing around my little doll like this. I’m but a frail little girl.”
Alshiera swung the creepy stuffed doll in her left hand directly behind her. A dull sound rang out, and the shadow struck by it was slammed into the wall of the church before one could even verify what it was, where it ceased moving.
Even Miss Gremory would be a ‘frail little girl’ compared to this person...
She herself claimed to have lost the majority of her power, but even so, she was tremendously strong when compared to the run of the mill sorcerer.
Alshiera then let out a chuckle.
“In any case, you sure are a whimsical one, aren’t you? You know full well that your lord shuns me do you not? And yet here you are helping me.”
“I told you already, that is a different matter from my desire to help you.”
Shortly after parting with Zagan, Kimaris happened upon this girl in an alley. He had heard about her from Zagan before, and even considered eliminating her if she proved to be dangerous. However, when he actually met her, he found that she was wounded, cornered and exhausted in an attempt to help Zagan.
She hid it using her stuffed doll, her gestures and her arm, but her left side looked to be damp as if it were bleeding. It was a wound severe enough that even a member of the Night Clan couldn’t heal it. It didn’t seem to be all that old a wound, but it also wasn’t something she had received in the last few days either. Even now, Alshiera’s existence was waning more and more.
She must not... have long left...
And even so, she came all the way here just to accomplish something. That was more than enough reason for Kimaris to be touched by her actions.
He then looked over to the dead carbuncle.
“So what exactly are these people? They seem to be undead, but they are clearly different from the Night Clan. They don’t seem to possess an ego.”
They didn’t seem like an existence capable of dealing a severe wound to Alshiera no matter how many of them attacked her. They also didn’t seem to possess enough intelligence to track her when she was capable of transforming her body into mist or bats.
Which must mean that something else was responsible for Miss Alshiera’s wound.
Alshiera languidly cast her gaze to the floor.
“You would be... correct. I suppose you could say that they’re complete failures who can’t even compare to vampires, zombies, or even skeletons.”
“Which means these are beings who failed to become undead?”
“That’s not quite right. They are more like failed puppets that were created in the process of trying to create a true undead. They are but empty vessels which imitate their forms from the olden days. There is something else out there who created and manipulates them.”
“In other words, the caster is trying to make up for such faults by using Miss Kuroka and yourself?”
Kimaris had never met Kuroka himself, but he was informed that she had become a cat and was being targeted. The only ones who were aware of this fact were, in all likelihood, Kimaris and Alshiera.
Alshiera didn’t appear to have any intentions of hiding this fact and honestly nodded back.
“The caster probably believes so.” She then tightly embraced her creepy stuffed doll in regret. “Most species that are considered rare have inherited a certain person’s blood. They believe that by collecting such a factor will allow them to bring back the true undead.”
“Bring back? It existed before?”
But the girl shook her head.
“Such a thing never existed. However, the sentiments of man overthrow the providence of the world from time to time.”
“It’s true that man often attempts to accomplish things far beyond their own power, but is this the same thing?”
Kimaris looked for confirmation, yet Alshiera shook her head again.
“Such things lie outside the providence of the world. You could even say that they change the very fabric of the world. Such power was called sorcery by sorcerers, mysticism by high elves, and miracles by the church.”
Kimaris doubted his own ears.
“Are you saying those three are all the same?”
Sorcery, mysticism, and miracles, which likely referred to the Sacred Swords, all had different structures and different driving forces. They were all powers completely within their own categorizations. But, Alshiera shook her head.
“The manifestation of power itself is surely all different. Nevertheless, the source which gave birth to all of them is the same.”
“And that’s... the sentiments of man?”
“Yes. Be it anger. Be it prayer. Or perhaps even despair. The commonality is that they possessed a will strong enough to change the very world.”
Her explanation already surpassed Kimaris’ understanding, but he wasn’t able to ‘smell’ deceit from her.
But... the saints that the church talk about in legends were supposed to have brought about miracles...
It was entirely possible that there were sorcerers among them. Tales passed down through legends and folklore were likely to change depending on who was passing them down. It was reasonable to guess that less than ten percent of said miracles were actually true miracles. Even so, if ten percent of the saints truly existed, miracles would be occurring repeatedly all over the world. But just what kind of miracle was being brought about now? Kimaris puzzled over the mystery as the girl let out a laugh.
“There’s no need to look at me like that. I’m not lying here, you know? Can you not see through everything with that nose of yours?”
Kimaris had not even opened up to Zagan that he was able to tell what someone was thinking to an extent based on scent alone. He wasn’t exactly reading minds, but he could sniff out whether someone was in agreement or not, lying or not, and friendly or not. Such distinctions came easily to him. This was not sorcery, it was an inborn ability of leonins, so even Zagan would be incapable of obstructing it. And precisely because of this power, Kimaris strongly believed that this girl had to be protected.
“In any case, this is some karma. That child doesn’t even know that the cat he’s carrying about is the girl he himself saved before, but he is still desperately trying to protect her. As for the girl... I would never have thought that she would throw herself into an organization called Azazel...” Alshiera muttered with a sigh.
Kimaris had heard that Kuroka was once a part of Azazel, but Alshiera’s little monologue sounded like there was some sort of karma to that as well.
It might be better to ask her about it...
However, asking her about it himself felt like he was trying to force her hand, so he simply asked her about what was relevant to what was happening now.
“By that child, you mean Sir Shax? Have those two met before?”
Alshiera didn’t respond immediately. And before long, she began speaking as if remi
niscing over the past.
“Five years ago, a certain settlement was destroyed by Archdemon Shere Khan.”
Kimaris felt his fur stand on end at the mention of that name, and Alshiera covered her mouth, noticing her slip of the tongue.
“Oh yes... that also happened to you... didn’t it?”
“...It’s already five years past. You know everything, don’t you?”
“Yes. I’m a naughty child who knows everything but does nothing. Now, and before,” she replied, as if praying for her own punishment.
“If you believe so, why do you remain a spectator? I’m sure that with your power, you should be able to change the course of events as you wish.”
Alshiera then replied with a strained smile as if it was a foolish question to ask.
“I do believe that some mere corpse that even death gave up on butting in on the fate of the living is absolutely absurd, though.”
Kimaris squinted his eyes. This vampire didn’t say that she had conquered death, or cast away death. Death had given up on her.
So she didn’t become like this by her own will?
In that case, wasn’t this far too cruel? It would mean that this girl had several hundred years, or even over a thousand years forced on her against her will. And just how did she interpret Kimaris’ pitiful gaze? Alshiera continued talking with a hint of penitence to her voice.
“Now that I think of it, the incident at that time was also my fault... That settlement was under the protection of Archdemon Marchosias. However, Marchosias’ attention wasn’t focused on the settlement... it was on me.”
“Were you... being targeted at that time too?”
“Tragedy comes with being a misfortunate beauty,” Alshiera playfully laughed, then her expression suddenly darkened as she continued, “...Marchosias said that he was unable to protect me. That’s why he sent a ‘certain something’ to me. However, I didn’t accept it. If I had just grumbled and took it... those children would surely have been protected too...”
In other words, that settlement that couldn’t be protected was where Shax and Kuroka had met.
“Would you mind me asking?” Kimaris began carefully, “What exactly was that ‘certain something’?”
He of course had no intentions of pressing the matter if she couldn’t answer. If he didn’t need to know about it to accomplish his work here, she could just remain silent. He implied this with his gaze, as Alshiera then firmly spoke its name.
“Seraph Hunter.”
It had been sixty years since Kimaris became a sorcerer, but he had never heard this name before.
Is it some kind of tool meant for killing something called a seraph?
He had no idea what a seraph was, though. He had never heard the term used when describing any of the races or even monsters.
Alshiera let out a deep sigh.
“It’s a power meant to kill god that myself, Solomon, and Marchosias created... It’s a power that should no longer be necessary anymore.”
An Archdemon, the progenitor of the Night Clan, and one other... someone else. Just what kind of power did those three create? Kimaris pinched his brow as he committed the important details to memory.
Miss Alshiera, Marchosias... and one more... what was the name she just said?
Kimaris didn’t mishear her. Alshiera also wasn’t trying to deceive him. He certainly did hear her say the name. But for some reason he couldn’t remember it. It may even have been his imagination that he had heard one other name. Alshiera looked over Kimaris with a hint of sorrow in her eyes, as she then changed the subject in a self-deprecating tone.
“How miserable of me, isn’t it? Trying to cling to a power that I threw away, I mean.”
Kimaris shook his head.
“I don’t believe so. If it is necessary for the future, then it is fine to use anything at hand, be it a power you once threw away or denied. At the very least, that’s what it means to be a sorcerer.”
Alshiera didn’t reply, and simply returned a quiet smile. Instead, she whispered.
“One day, I would like to hear your story too.”
“I’m more interested in your story, though.”
This girl was full of secrets. Just what kind of life did she lead? How did she spend her time after her last breath? There were mountains of facts about her that piqued his interest.
Not that I think she’ll tell me, though... Or so he thought, but Alshiera unexpectedly shook her head with a sincere expression.
“I am but a storyteller. A storyteller does not take center stage. That’s why my story does not exist.”
Her voice was full of grief, as if this was her atonement.
“Is that so?” Kimaris replied in comforting tone. “Even now, you are running about as we speak to try and save Miss Kuroka by your own will. Is that not the role of an actress on the stage?”
Such was the case, but Alshiera simply giggled to herself, knowing this full well.
“The storyteller should have died a little while ago. And yet, there was a troublesome child who wouldn’t let them exit. And now that the storyteller isn’t permitted to leave, I suppose they may in fact be standing on the stage.”
This may have been the reason that Alshiera began taking action on her own. Death had given up on her, but was now banging on her door. This finally permitted her to feel alive.
The vampire then rose to her feet.
“Now then, we’ve had a long enough break. Let’s chase after those two. If things go well, we may be able to save them from their regrets from five years ago too.”
“Do you mean Miss Kuroka? Or Sir Shax? Or perhaps...”
“Both. They may in fact be the only ones capable of saving each other... It’s more than sufficient for me to be the only one left living on with regrets.” Alshiera paused, then smiled. “For an undead like me to live on, oh my, how laughable.”
Kimaris once more transformed into a beast.
“You seem to be emphasizing that fact, but I don’t believe it to be true. You may not be alive, but you’ve never stopped being human, right?”
That’s what her scent was telling him.
Above all else, I believe you’re one of those that must be saved.
He knew that she would not accept his words, so he held them to his chest. And in an unusual turn, Alshiera’s façade crumbled with a grimace.
“...I really am poor at dealing with you.”
“How unfortunate.”
And as Kimaris return a sarcastic laugh, he bent down in front of her.
“Please get on. You’re in a hurry, right?”
Alshiera mounted on top of Kimaris with a complicated look on her face. After confirming that she was firmly holding his neck, the black lion began running.
“Judging by the direction... it seems Sir Shax is headed toward Archdemon Palace. His lab is there, and he could also borrow the help of other sorcerers.”
“Oh my, is it not abandoned right now, though?”
All the sorcerers at Archdemon Palace were rounded up to help Foll with her preparations for Alshiere Imera. Furthermore, there was no escape route there due to it being underground. In other words, Shax was being chased into a cul-de-sac.
To think the little lady’s plan would backfire on us like this!
It’s not like it was Foll’s fault. Nobody could predict that a new enemy would show up at such a timie. And yet, Alshiera nodded in admiration.
“This may in fact be a turn of good fortune. We’ll be able to take hold of that without worrying about our surroundings.”
“By that you mean... it’s in Archdemon Palace?”
“There’s nowhere else Marchosias would leave it behind.”
Just then, shadow-like undead once more appeared in their path.
“Black Claw,” Kimaris whispered, as his body was once more wrapped in light and transformed into a gale.
The undead trying to obstruct him were scattered to the wind-like scraps of paper torn up by a child
throwing a tantrum.
“Oh my, what dreadful power.” Alshiera said with a smile. “Moreover, you’re hiding an even more dreadful trump card are you not? Is it fine for me to be riding you despite that?”
Kimaris was unable to burn mana itself like Zagan could, but his sorcery gave birth to an abominable wind capable of crushing all who simply touched it. This was the sorcery he had mastered over ten years to take revenge. And with the power Zagan had granted him, this same power had entered an entirely new dimension of completion. It would not be all that difficult for him to strike down even an Archdemon as he was now. This of course applied to the target of his revenge as well. Nevertheless, Kimaris never did so.
Sir Zagan surpassed that easily in under half a year, anyway.
Kimaris’ Black Claw couldn’t come anywhere close to the Heaven’s Phosphor that the Archdemon wielded. Kimaris felt a certain sense of defeat from that fact. But even so, he understood full well just how Zagan was able to acquire power at such an exponential rate.
People grow stronger far faster for the sake of others than for themselves.
That was why even the other Archdemons couldn’t defeat Zagan, and it was also the reason Kimaris wanted to lend him his strength. And above all else, he was one who freely rewarded those who devoted such loyalty to him.
“A lion’s fangs aren’t meant just to show off one’s own power.” Kimaris muttered, as if to confirm his own resolve.
The reason for this was because a lion’s simple presence instilled awe in all living creatures. One who wielded power only for their own sake was nothing more than a monster. But lions weren’t monsters.
“A lion bares its fangs for its friends, the weak, or the strong that it deems worthy as their lord.”
That’s why Kimaris would not use his power to enact revenge.
I’m just mimicking Miss Gremory, though.
Nevertheless, this was the belief that drove Kimaris forward. And listening to his speech, Alshiera muttered in a somewhat envious tone.
“The living may be far stronger than I imagined...”
“Huh...?”
Both her tone and the atmosphere about her were clearly different from before. However, Kimaris had no leeway to question her further about it.
An Archdemon's Dilemma: How to Love Your Elf Bride: Volume 8 (Premium) Page 12