Yukinari also succeeded at using physical reconstitution to create the metal wire. But that was when the problems started.
“Where’s its core? It’s not in its head...!”
During their previous battle, Yukinari had worked on the assumption that the core was located in the demigod’s head, but that had clearly been a mistake. That was how the creature had escaped right when he’d thought it was dead.
The demigod was also unmistakably larger than before. Presumably, after it had fled, it had attacked humans, or at least other demigods and xenobeasts, increasing its spiritual power and attracting more birds and animals as familiars. It was possible that someone somewhere had become its victim, all because Yukinari failed to finish it off last time.
All the more reason to find the core now.
But where was it? Even Durandall lacked the power to pierce all the way through the massive body, and a “cannon” like the one he had used against the statue of the guardian saint would be for nothing if he mistook the location of the crucial shot. He didn’t have it in him to make more than one of something that large in quick succession.
“Maybe I could use physical reconstitution to break up its body a bit?”
“Yuki—don’t get distracted,” Dasa said, firing Red Chili repeatedly from where he held her under his arm. Her shots took down a familiar that had detached itself from the demigod’s body and tried to attack them.
“I know that!” He used Durandall to cut down an attacker here, shoot one there. But he still couldn’t figure out where his real goal, the core, was. Of course, it wasn’t impossible to just go on chipping away at the demigod’s body like this...
“Gyyyahhhh!”
The monster howled with frustration. It seemed to be starting to panic at its inability to shake off its tormentors.
“YoU! yOu! ImpERTinenT earth-CrawlErs!”
“Strong words from a birdbrain like you,” Yukinari said, giving the wire another tug. “You lost the minute we got this wire on you. You can’t fly away, and with your body, you can’t exactly reach up to scratch where it itches, can you? You’ll never get rid of us.”
“Graahh...” The demigod gave a low moan, and in the next instant:
“YOU daMNable fools!!”
The wire sank deep into the massive body. It hadn’t bitten into the flesh—it was being passed through.
“Yuki...!”
Yukinari didn’t reply; he and Dasa were thrown through the air.
The demigod had been able to pass the wire through its body by temporarily detaching familiars from itself and turning them back into a flock of birds. Perhaps it had gotten the idea when Yukinari had said “get rid of us.” Whatever bizarre forms they might take, gods were gods; they were more intelligent than regular birds and animals.
“Fall To Your Doom!” the demigod—or rather, the flock of strange birds—cackled in midair.
It was only an instant later that a gunshot rang out in the direction of the flock.
“I knew you were a birdbrain,” Yukinari laughed as he plummeted down. “Revealing your own weak point!”
Shocked, the demigod rushed to recompose itself, but Dasa fired one round after another from Red Chili, taking down members of its flock. Finally, the core in the center of the great mass was visible. Yukinari pointed Durandall at it, and the weapon belched flame.
“Graaahh...!”
The core bird took a direct hit from a .44 Magnum bullet and plunged out of the sky.
“Hrk!”
In contrast, Yukinari opened his wings to blunt the speed of their descent. Even with Dasa in his arms, he somehow managed to land on his feet. The impact produced a crater almost two meters deep, but miraculously didn’t break his legs.
“...Gah!” he gasped. “Ten meters is a long drop, even with a reinforced body.” He let Dasa down and rose up.
He had used his wings to kill their downward velocity, but of course, this was only possible because he was in the form of the Bluesteel Blasphemer. If this had happened to any normal person, even if they had managed to land on their feet, every bone in their lower body would have been instantly vaporized.
“Graahh...”
A lone crow lay on the ground just in front of Yukinari. This must have been the core of that demigod. It looked basically like any other crow, but its eyes were too large, more like those of a human, and its beak looked almost like a pair of lips. Its head was a disturbing shape, like a half-formed human cranium.
“Here I thought you’d be a bird of prey,” Yukinari said, hefting Durandall. “But you’re just some crow. Enjoyed yourself in my garden? Well, the fun’s over now.”
“Grah!”
The first gunshot had entirely broken its spiritual connection with its familiars—all the other birds had returned to their normal bodies and scattered, making no effort to protect the core.
“See you in hell,” Yukinari said, and pulled the trigger.
Explosive gases propelled the bullet—a soft-point hunting round—down the barrel. The .44 Magnum round entered the body of the bizarre bird faster than the speed of sound, and all that kinetic energy had nowhere to go but through the creature’s flesh. The core was sent flying, torn clean in two, leaving only a cloud of black feathers.
“They say crows are smart,” Yukinari muttered, “but I guess when they get too smart, they turn ugly.” Then he and Dasa looked over their shoulders.
Berta and Fiona had come running up and were there. Behind them, the townspeople were looking at Yukinari in a sort of befuddled astonishment. He saw Arlen and some of the other knights, too, carrying weapons.
As far as he could see, there were no dead townspeople around. Small blessings.
“Oh...!”
“Lord Yukinari...”
Some who saw him fell to their knees in prayer. Others raised shouts of acclamation. Still others simply wept to know they were alive. Everyone had a different reaction.
“I... I guess we made it in time, huh?”
“...Mn.”
That single syllable, a sigh, and a nod were Dasa’s answer.
Chapter Four: The One Sent by a God
Three days after the attack by the flying demigod, Friedland had a visitor from Rostruch.
“You see, ultimately, we could not determine what should be done with them.”
They were in the reception room of the house of Friedland’s mayor.
In the chair in the center of the room sat someone clad in garments the likes of which the Friedlanders had never seen. She looked like a ten-year-old girl, but her speech and behavior could be surprising; just when you thought she spoke like a regular child, she would say something that sounded exceptionally haughty or archaic.
It was Ulrike, of course.
Beside her were the two priests and two knights who had ventured to Rostruch—Luman and the others were standing with their hands tied. They were being treated like complete criminals, but considering that the crime they were being punished for was deceiving a god, this actually represented a tremendous mercy.
Had Ulrike and Yggdra’s other familiars escorted them here? The familiars were all connected to each other, and by using “intermediaries,” they could move even when at a distance from Yggdra. Even at this moment, there was a whole line of familiars standing at set distances, stretching from Friedland to Rostruch.
“...I’m getting awfully tired of the lot of you,” Fiona said, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.
As acting mayor, it was she who had welcomed Ulrike and invited her into the house. As she learned the details of what had happened with Ulrike and Yukinari, her face grew more and more rigid until, by the end, she was looking at the prisoners was absolute contempt. Especially the two surviving priests.
“So let me get this straight. You tried to murder Yukinari by getting him into a fight with this erdgod, Yggdra. But he showed up before you had poured enough poison in Yggdra’s ear, so you just tried to rush ahead with your plan?”
“It sounds like once they had Yggdra on their side, they meant to take Dasa or Berta hostage and force me to come to Rostruch,” Yukinari said, shrugging.
As far as it went, the priests’ plot to make the two fight had worked, and if there had been hostages involved, it was hard to imagine they ever would have sat down and talked.
“Master Luman...”
Berta stood beside Yukinari, looking sadly at Luman. He had been like a father to her. No matter what the facts might be, there was a part of her that couldn’t bring itself to view him with the distaste the others did, to hate him.
Luman made no move to respond, just stared expressionlessly at the floor. He appeared already resigned to his fate.
“What shall we do? Yukinari has interceded for their lives, and while I did fight with him because of the misunderstanding sown by these people, as a result I gained a new ‘friend.’”
“‘Friend’?” Fiona said, looking at Yukinari in surprise.
“Even gods need friends, I guess,” he said with a slight grin. Fiona didn’t say anything, but grinned back.
From Yggdra’s perspective, Yukinari could best be called not so much a “companion” as a “friend.” Both of them were technically “inhuman,” as they both had human form but stood outside of human society. Yukinari was no erdgod, and he certainly wasn’t a giant tree, so he probably would have objected to being called Yggdra’s kin, too.
“But we can’t very well not punish them,” Fiona said. “If we let them go free, they might just do the same thing again. And next time they might not pick a god who’s so ready to make nice.”
“Uh, on that note,” Yukinari said, scratching his cheek in embarrassment. “I’m sorry you had to drag these guys all the way out here, but could you take these two priests—and all the others we’ve got left in Friedland—back to Rostruch?”
Fiona was the first to offer a wide-eyed sound of disbelief. But it must have caught the two priests off-guard, too, because they looked at each other.
“To what purpose?” Ulrike asked.
“I’m not just trying to foist some troublemakers on you,” Yukinari said with a shrug. “Your town never had priests or shrine maidens or anything, because you never needed them. Familiars filled those roles, and as far as offering living sacrifices to Yggdra, it really was just an offering, so the people took care of it themselves.”
“What you say is true, but...”
“But now you’re going from living sacrifices to worship, the periodic collection of spiritual power from the townspeople, right? I think you should let the priests handle those rituals.”
Luman and his fellow priest looked at Yukinari in absolute disbelief.
“For better or for worse, they’ve got centuries of experience with that sort of thing,” Yukinari said. “They know how to handle it. I’m sure there’s a lot of little tricks you wouldn’t guess if you’d never done it before. I hate to admit it, but I sure don’t have any idea how to run a worship service.” Then he looked at Luman. “I don’t guess you really care which god you serve?”
“No, I... I suppose not.”
Erdgods weren’t replaced often, but it did happen. What the priests served was not so much a specific deity as the whole system of worship. It was an industry, in its own way, and the priests were specialists.
“’Course, you’ll have to figure out what it means to worship Yggdra, and how the people of Rostruch want to do it. But I guess all I can say on that score is, good luck. Even I’m not softhearted enough to let you off without so much as a slap on the wrist.”
At first Luman said nothing, looking at Yukinari vacantly. Then he managed, “Not at all. I would judge you quite generous. Very generous indeed.”
“Ah, come off it.”
“...Very well. We’re hardly in a position to refuse.”
Then... Luman smiled. It was probably the first genuine emotion Yukinari had ever seen from the priest. He returned a rueful grin of his own, then turned to Ulrike.
“Now, about trade between us...”
“Mm,” Ulrike replied, placing her right hand over her chest. “The mayor has given me authority to negotiate on that subject.”
“Earlier, you talked about how you could put familiars at set intervals—do you think Yggdra could leave a chain of familiars between Friedland and Rostruch all the time?”
Ulrike went completely silent. About the time Yukinari and the others were starting to worry that something was wrong, she clapped her hands and nodded.
“Ahh! This is one of those times, isn’t it? I’m supposed to laugh.”
“Sorry?”
“Ahhh ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
Yukinari watched the girl laugh for a moment in befuddlement, but her expression soon returned to normal, and she raised one hand as if making a declaration.
“Pardon—I mean, sorry. I am not laughing at you, you see. I had intended to offer such a suggestion myself. It amused me that we both had the same idea.”
“We did, did we?”
“If my offspring will be coming and going, it will be necessary to protect those who travel the roads. Sending them with bodyguards is one solution, but I think leaving familiars at set intervals will prove a better deterrent.”
Yggdra was an erdgod. To the extent that the familiars were a part of her, xenobeasts and demigods were unlikely to come near them, since these creatures possessed only a fraction of the familiars’ strength. And as Yukinari had discovered, although the familiars had once been humans, they now had superhuman abilities, including control of nearby plant life. Even if a trade convoy was attacked, if they could make it back to the vicinity of one of Yggdra’s familiars, there was a good chance they would be safe.
Suddenly, though, Ulrike looked questioningly at Yukinari. “But, Yukinari, are you sure this is all right?”
“What do you mean?”
“Might some not think that I, the erdgod Yggdra, am simply attempting to extend my control to Friedland? My familiars are a part of me. I am essentially planting my ‘seeds’ in this area, strengthening my connection to it, and—”
“What’s that? You say you want to take care of Friedland for me, too?”
This left Ulrike speechless, or perhaps dumbfounded.
“Well, you won’t hear any complaints from me,” Yukinari said. “Or don’t you guys like that idea?”
Yukinari looked back at Fiona, but the whole course of the conversation had proven so unexpected that she seemed to have her hands full just trying to follow along.
“I’ve got to admit, I’m not sure,” she said. “I guess... Personally, I think I want Yukinari to be the erdgod of this land. That’s all.”
“...Very well,” Ulrike said, raising her hand once more. “I harbor no thought of stealing what belongs to my friend. Yukinari is and shall remain the god of this land. I shall give him my aid, and no more. Objections?”
“None here. Thank you,” Fiona said politely.
“And that just leaves...”
Everyone turned their gazes on the two knights who stood to Ulrike’s right.
“We got back the weapons they somehow managed to take from the storehouse,” Fiona said. “But if these two set their minds to causing trouble, it could be a real problem.”
The missionaries—one young man and one middle-aged—predictably said nothing.
Perhaps they had already settled their resolve. Five of the knights who had accompanied the priests to Rostruch had been eaten by xenobeasts on the way, and if Ulrike hadn’t rescued them, these two would surely be dead as well. Begging for their lives at this point would hardly make sense.
“Missionary knights of the Harris Church,” Yukinari said. “I gather their friends did a lot to help keep the town safe. And it was one of their little toys that came and got me, right? Gotta admit, it’s kind of hard to be angry at them.”
“True enough,” Fiona said with a sigh. “And I guess the plan to make Yukinari and Lord Yggdra
fight was really all the priests’ doing. These guys were just along as bodyguards. Even if they probably did know what the priests had in mind.”
“I guess we could just leave their rap sheet at good old-fashioned breaking and entering. How about that?” Yukinari said.
“I don’t love having to compromise here,” Fiona said, “but that might be best.”
The knights seem to find this unexpected, because they looked at each other doubtfully.
“H-Hey, ‘Blue Angel,’” the younger one said, and Yukinari raised an eyebrow in response. “You’ll regret this! Our faith is stronger than a rock, our ideals higher than the clouds! If you think this will soften us—”
“I don’t.”
In the blink of an eye, Durandall, which had been holstered across Yukinari’s back, was pointed at the young knight’s nose. He had drawn it too quickly for anyone to see—even the knight at whom he was pointing it. It was almost as if a moment of time had simply dropped away.
“Frankly, I hate everyone in the Church. If someone said I could kill every last one of you and get away with it, I’d do it. I hate religion in general, and I especially hate the religion that killed the person I owe my life to.”
His pronouncement would have been a shock to Friedland at that moment. After all, he was their actual god. He was above all laws and all reason. He could kill anyone he wanted on a whim, and no one would object.
“Then... why?” the young knight growled.
During that first battle, Yukinari could easily have slaughtered all of the missionaries. When the Blue Angel had run amok in the capital, he had, in fact, murdered more than a few. And now he held back from killing them?
Why?
“...Dunno. I don’t think I could tell you myself.”
And with that, Yukinari put his weapon away.
●
“Worthless...” Arlen muttered, sitting in front of the hovel of a church and staring vacantly into the distance.
It had been three days since the demigod attacked, and so far Arlen and the other knights of the Missionary Order hadn’t been put back to work, perhaps because parts of the town were still in shambles. With Clifton and his accomplice gone, though, the work was likely to be that much harder when it did resume.
Bluesteel Blasphemer Volume 2 Page 16