“Oh! Wouldn’t the store I bought this from have the information you require?!” Nephy exclaimed as she clapped her hands together.
“Hm... I see! A store should certainly have a grasp of how to use their own goods. Well done, Nephy.”
“You honor me,” Nephy replied as her pointy ears quivered about in joy. Then she shyly smiled at him and continued with, “If it pleases you, would you like me to go ask them?”
“What? You’d go so far for me? Aren’t you busy?”
“It’s something I gifted to you, so I must confirm such things myself.”
Zagan’s chest became hot from hearing such praiseworthy words. However, he wasn’t sure whether it was right to simply accept Nephy’s kindness when the issue was his own ignorance. And, as he racked his brains over the conundrum, Nephy pushed him further into the corner.
“Besides, I would like to be the one teaching you once in a—”
“Okay, I’ll leave it to you.”
“Hwah?” Nephy let out a small scream at his immediate reply.
Hmph! Like I could refuse Nephy wanting to focus all her attention on teaching me! She didn’t say as much, but that was how Zagan interpreted it.
“I-In any case, preparations for breakfast are complete.”
“O-Oh... Right.”
“Should we call Miss Alshiera to join us?” Nephy asked as she peeked up at Zagan’s face. That was the name of the vampire he’d met near the eastern island of Liucaon several months ago. She had been living in his castle since the incident on Alshiere Imera. However, Zagan found that vampire extremely disagreeable, and Nephy knew this full well.
I guess I’m the one who invited her to stay... It also pained him to turn down Nephy’s suggestion. And as such, Zagan rose to his feet.
“Okay. I’ll go get her.”
“I could call her for you... if you wish.”
“No, she’s making use of that room, so I’ll go.”
It was the one room in the castle that even Nephy was not allowed to enter.
◇
Zagan headed towards a room directly below his throne. It was a large grotto located a couple dozen meters below ground. All sorcery made from Heaven’s Phosphor was innately dangerous, so this was a space he’d prepared, modeled after Archdemon Palace, precisely for such a purpose. He both researched and made trial runs of his forbidden spell here, so the risk of it running wild or a curse breaking out was fairly high. As such, even Nephy was prohibited from entering without permission.
It’s only this big to begin with because I miscalculated the amount of restraint I have to put into Heaven’s Phosphor before.
It happened just around the time Gremory, Kimaris and the other sorcerers fell under his employ. Back then, the room was only the size of a slightly large laboratory, but after an accidental discharge of Heaven’s Phosphor Fivefold Grand Flower, it ended up expanding to the size of a lake. He had both Kimaris and Gremory on standby just in case the worst were to occur, which is why the two of them were so frightened during his fight with Orias.
He at least installed supports and such to make sure there wouldn’t be a cave in, but it was uncertain what kind of effect the accidental discharge of Heaven’s Phosphor had on the stratum below or the air within the grotto itself. There were no visible signs of danger now, but he didn’t know how it would be after ten, twenty, or a hundred years.
A clear ringing sound resounded throughout the dangerous grotto. It sounded like a bell, but it wasn’t one. It was a glass filled with wine. Just from shaking it slightly, it let out a ring. And at the center of the ringing was a small girl.
The wine glass was being supported by a long and narrow iron construct. The rectangular lump of iron had a grip like that of a crossbow and was about the same length as an adult male’s forearm. And the little girl had such a boorish construct in her hand. It was a weapon called a Seraph Hunter, built a thousand years ago.
Strangely enough, each time the ringing echoed through the grotto, the lump of iron changed from black to white, and from white to black. Zagan could tell with his eyes that she was in fact stowing and drawing two different weapons from her sheathe — though she herself called it a holster — under her skirt.
And at a terrifying speed too...
She held the tip of the weapon up slightly and balanced the wine glass in the air. And before gravity could take its course, she put away her weapon and drew the other one, returning it right underneath the wine glass. In a manner of speaking, that’s all that was happening, but with such a large mass of metal colliding with such flimsy glass, it would normally shatter.
What was truly terrifying was that the weapon came to a complete stop right before touching the wine glass, and she repeated this hundreds upon thousands of times without it being perceivable by the eye.
Zagan himself had witnessed the power of the Seraph Hunters. Would he even be able to win against her if she used those?
No, it’d be futile... at least, for now.
Zagan had already defeated three different Archdemons, but he was capable of honestly admitting his weakness. If his preparations beforehand were perfect, then it might have been possible to challenge her. But going into battle assuming one’s preparations were perfect was the act of a fool. In this very instant, Zagan possessed no means of defeating this girl. That’s all there was to it.
The power of the Seraph Hunters was certainly menacing, but that in and of itself wasn’t impossible to handle. In fact, handling such unreasonable powers happened to be Zagan’s specialty. The problem was their wielder. She was faster with them than Zagan was at using sorcery.
Zagan was capable of replicating a magic circle in a fraction of a second, and she was even faster than that. Even with the reaction speed of a sorcerer, he wouldn’t be able to put up Heaven’s Scale in time. She was fundamentally faster than the activation of sorcery itself. The speed and precision of a vampire’s movements far surpassed the realm of humanity. Zagan himself specialized in reinforcing his own body, and even he would surely be incapable of keeping up.
In other words, this was an art. Even among the Archdemons, there likely didn’t exist a single one who could cope with it. Even Andrealphus, who could stop time, wouldn’t be able to do anything before his sorcery activated.
Archdemons, demons, Sacred Swords, celestial mysticism. Of all the powers Zagan stood against, they all used techniques which manipulated a massive amount of mana and aura. That’s why he possessed no means of overcoming such a pure art.
I’ve never had an opponent who wields such powers to begin with.
Zagan was capable of using simple arts to an extent, but it was nothing but child’s play compared to what was before his eyes. Above all else, relying on arts as a sorcerer who had gained power already was the very height of shame to him.
Nevertheless, if she ever opposed him, he required a means of fighting. He realized full well that he still lacked the power to dominate the world. And at the same time, a certain thought crossed his mind.
Perfecting arts to such a degree is worthy of admiration.
This was an accumulation of tens, hundreds, and thousands of years of discipline. It was impossible to accomplish in a normal lifespan. It did seem weird, though, considering she was a girl who only looked slightly older than Foll, on the outside, at least.
Suddenly, the girl’s eyes opened wide. Something seemed to have caught her attention, and the wine within the glass jostled greatly. Even though the glass itself didn’t fall, the wine spilled onto the floor.
“Oh my, I’m honored to have attracted your gaze, my Silver-Eyed King.”
The vampire Alshiera’s voice was shamelessly stating, “I noticed it and it ended up throwing off my concentration,” but this was just her usual behavior. She was an enemy two months ago in Liucaon, and by some whim, she was now being sheltered in Zagan’s castle.
Vampires didn’t sweat or breathe, but seeing her so composed after such an intense drill truly mad
e Zagan realize that she was a monster. Her golden hair swayed in the air as she took the wine glass from atop her weapon and licked up some of the spilled wine. As for her hand holding the Seraph Hunter, it was now suddenly holding onto her usual creepy stuffed doll. Zagan didn’t overlook the fact that her shadow split apart and slid away from beneath her feet as she kept up her theatrical motions.
Is she capable of splitting her body apart?
She previously spoke as if the clothes Kuroka was wearing were a part of her body. Though she wasn’t currently hostile to him, it was becoming more and more apparent that he couldn’t be careless around her. Zagan kept the corner of his eye on the shadow as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Does the Night Clan even require such training?”
Vampires existed on an entirely different dimension from other undead like zombies and skeletons. In a sense, they were the ideal form that all sorcerers aspired to be. And precisely because of that, sorcerers referred to them as the Night Clan out of respect.
Alshiera did not immediately reply but instead put on a self-deprecating smile.
“I haven’t held these in several hundred years, after all. My skills have at least dulled to the point where I would panic a little.”
Taking a closer look, the glass had cracks along its base and was dripping liquid ever so steadily. In the last moment, though her concentration was thrown off, it seemed that she hit the glass lightly.
This is dulled? Zagan thought with a grimace.
The Seraph Hunters’ powers were much like Zagan’s Heaven’s Phosphor in that they were unheard of powers which could obliterate their target with just a simple touch. And here she was saying that it was possible for her to use them with even more speed and precision. The reason that Alshiera was now forced to seek Zagan’s aid was because she was wounded to the point where she was on the verge of “death.”
“Is Shere Khan that fearsome an enemy?” Zagan asked, while remaining fully on guard.
The one targeting Alshiera was one of the Archdemons, Shere Khan. He was ranked directly after the Eldest Marchosias before the latter’s untimely demise and was said to surpass even the current head of the Archdemons, Andrealphus. Such was the case, but Alshiera stood there blinking with a blank gaze.
“Shere Khan...?” She cocked her head to the side with a “who’s that?” look plastered on her face. “Oh, now that you mention it, we must put a stop to that boy, now, mustn’t we?”
This left Zagan puzzled.
What’s going on? Is the enemy she’s preparing for not Shere Khan?
Judging by her reaction, she had forgotten about his existence completely. She was fully focused on her training, but there was a saying that one should think of their enemies when preparing for battle. In other words, the enemy on this girl’s mind was such a threat that even Shere Khan was worth ignoring.
Zagan crossed his arms and glared at the vampire.
“If Shere Khan isn’t your enemy, then what the hell has you so on guard? With your powers as they are, even in your current state, one or two Archdemons would be nothing to you, right?”
That was how Zagan assessed her power at least. And yet, the vampire simply replied by raising her eyebrow slightly.
“Are you saying I can’t ask about this either?”
“Yes. There’s no need for concern, my Silver-Eyed King. I won’t cause you any trouble. This is my problem to deal with.”
She really was hard to handle. Zagan combed back his hair with a sigh.
“Whatever. It’s my principle to deal with troublesome matters by myself. I’m not one to sit back and rely on others.”
“And that’s precisely what makes you the Silver-Eyed King,” Alshiera replied with a giggle.
However, Zagan looked down at her menacingly.
“But I’m not so whimsical that I would shelter someone without compensation.”
This was not a notice for her to get out. Alshiera required the facilities within Archdemon Palace to maintain her Seraph Hunters or manufacture ammunition or something. Yet it ran contrary to Zagan’s principles to throw someone out after saving them. If he were to do so, he wouldn’t have saved them in the first place.
But I’ve got my subordinates’ viewpoints to consider.
It surely wasn’t amusing for Zagan’s subordinates, who exhausted themselves for his sake, to have a sudden visitor be given the VIP treatment without having to do anything in return. In other words, this was him telling her, “If you aren’t going to provide me with information, compensate me with something else.” She surely understood this as well. Her face stiffened up, and she held up her cracked wine glass.
“Oh my, what a conundrum. Do I even have anything to compensate you with, I wonder?”
“Yeah, you do. If you won’t speak, then you can just use your body, right?”
Alshiera didn’t seem to have expected such a reply, and she stiffened up.
“Meaning...?”
“So you don’t even understand such things without it being spelled out for you?” Zagan said in astonishment with a sigh. He then thrust his finger towards her. “Isn’t it obvious that I’m telling you to help Nephy with her chores?”
This was fundamentally the job of all residents of this castle who weren’t sorcerers. Thinking back on it, this was also Foll’s first punishment, but it was unexpectedly quite useful for Nephy. This was also the path the Archangel Chastille took when she was temporarily staying at the castle. Selphy was also given the same job. And so was Lilith, who also served as a mediator with Liucaon.
Alshiera simply stared back, wide-eyed, having no idea what she was being told.
“Huh? Chores...? You mean... cooking, cleaning, and such?”
“Exactly. Having said that, the kitchen has enough hands. So you’ll be left with cleaning.”
The vampire was still having trouble swallowing the situation and was just standing there blinking and staring. Her expression was one truly befitting her childlike appearance.
“What’s that? You’re not planning on claiming that someone as noble as you is incapable of cleaning, are you?”
That’s how Lilith had resisted at first.
“No, that’s not the case, but... um, is that sufficient?”
“You won’t tell me anything. You possess no knowledge of sorcery. So what else can you even do?”
“That’s... certainly true. But... are you not an Archdemon?”
“Is it that strange for an Archdemon to order you to clean?”
“According to my intuition, quite so...” Alshiera said, but she shook her head upon thinking it over. “No, I suppose it’s strange for an Archdemon, but not for the Silver-Eyed King. That’s just what I would want you to say.”
She smiled with a somehow nostalgic expression, leaving Zagan with a strange sense of discomfort.
It’s the same as that time during Alshiere Imera.
It felt like this girl was overlaying someone known as the Silver-Eyed King with Zagan, and she had a tendency to phrase things as if she was hoping he would become more like someone else.
“Hmmm,” Zagan said with a nod, “let me ask you one thing. How many people out there have you called Silver-Eyed King?”
The expression she made at the time wasn’t one that he would forget quite so easily. It was happy, sad, shaken, anguished, and yet it looked like she was saved. Her expression was filled with emotions. He’d only seen this expression from her once before, back when he had asked her about Azazel. Her reaction back then had been a little different, but her expression now was nothing like her normally flippant attitude.
I guess it really is something she doesn’t want to answer?
Zagan wasn’t so insensitive that he would continue to forcefully pry into the private lives of others, no matter how much he disliked them. Well, it was somewhat laughable for a sorcerer of all things to worry about being sensitive.
“I don’t really mind if you don’t want to answer.”
&nbs
p; Just as Zagan offered to withdraw, Alshiera tightly squeezed her stuffed doll and shook her head.
“...No. It’s something... that I would like you to hear.”
It was the first time she’d ever said anything like that. This was unexpected for Zagan, too, and he nodded back to her, even as he stared in wonder.
“Up until now, there have been three people worthy of being called the Silver-Eyed King by me.”
“Three?”
One would be Zagan, and another was the Silver-Eyed King passed down in Liucaon’s legends.
So who’s the last one?
This vampire had lived for hundreds of years now. It was only natural to think that there was another during the time between the Silver-Eyed King of legend and Zagan. In any case, was that last Silver-Eyed King the source of the discomfort that Zagan felt? Alshiera simply smiled in a lonely manner, and didn’t speak any further.
“Whatever,” Zagan replied with a shake of his head. “I’ll keep that in mind. In any case, it’s time for breakfast.”
Quite some time had passed since Nephy had come to get Zagan. If they were to linger any longer, the food would get cold. What’s more, Zagan had other business to attend to today. And with that, Alshiera picked at the hem of her skirt as she curtsied.
“All is as you will, my Silver-Eyed King.”
And giving her a glance from the side, Zagan recalled another certain individual.
Does Marc also possess this level of power?
He was once Zagan’s childhood friend, the one who had taught him arts as well as everything he needed to survive. He was also the man Alshiera had identified as the one who would lead him to Azazel. Zagan had heard that he’d once possessed the Seraph Hunters. He had simply received that clue, and he’d yet to get more information from the man who was most familiar with the details.
◇
Alshiera unexpectedly seemed to enjoy her meal. Though, Raphael had a somewhat stern look because she was constantly requesting refills for wine, which was a poor influence on Foll’s upbringing. The butler was making the expression of some man-eating fiend, but the residents of the castle had already gotten fairly used to it by now. As for the little girl in question, Foll was simply staring fixedly at Raphael and observing him.
An Archdemon's Dilemma: How to Love Your Elf Bride: Volume 9 Page 2