I checked my surroundings with the light. I seemed to be in some kind of small room. There was one entrance, and everywhere my light didn’t reach was steeped in darkness. I could hear the low howl of wind blowing through from somewhere.
I had no idea how long escaping was going to take. Resting will be the problem, I thought. I had no one here to stand guard for me when I needed it. To rest in circumstances like this required strong nerves and a number of preparations.
You had no problem being alone in your room before, I thought bitterly. For the past ten years, Blood had always been there, and Mary, and Gus.
“Being by yourself makes you so lonely and... anxious,” I mumbled. I’d forgotten that.
Blood was probably testing my all-around practical skills: the robust physical strength needed to endure the intense circumstances of a real battle, the flexibility to find the right technique to handle any kind of situation, and the mental fortitude to stay composed in the face of constant loneliness and danger.
Ensuring that I could make use of everything I’d learned from the three of them, even when none of them were around—that was the point of this exercise.
I was thirteen now, soon to be fourteen. Adulthood was thought to begin at fifteen in this world, so the time for me to stand on my own two feet was near.
I wanted them to see me perform at my best. I wanted the three of them to know that the things they’d taught me were coming to fruition, that it had been worth their time to teach me. If possible, I wanted them to feel proud that I was their apprentice.
Resolved to make full use of my capabilities, I walked into the maze.
◆
Using my shield, I deflected the spiked tail swinging at me from the edges of my vision.
“Tacere, os!” Without faltering, I spoke the Words to enforce silence. The jaw of the skeletal monster in front of me locked shut, and the Words it was trying to issue were interrupted.
Not intending to miss my chance, I stepped in toward it, but a storm of wild swings of its short spear forced me to a very sudden stop, followed by a retreat. I glared into the congealed blackness in its eye sockets, and it seemed to glare back.
I was in a wide, open area of the city underground. The thing in front of me was a skeleton that had once belonged to a demon. To summarize its appearance in a few words, it was was a blend of human and crocodile.
It was about two meters tall, and its skull reminded me of a dinosaur. It had a thick spine to match its physique, with a dramatic series of bony projections running down its length, and its spindly, bizarrely long tail had spikes on the end. It was gripping a short metal spear, untouched by rust, in its human-like hands.
I remembered learning about this demon from Gus. It was called a vraskus.
I’d been told that a bite of its jaws could crush metal armor, while the strikes of its tail were like those of an assassin, coming from unexpected angles. It was relatively high-ranked, being proficient in the use of all kinds of weapons, and even capable of wielding the Words of Creation.
Its tough scales, rubbery skin, and thick muscles were said to frustrate its opponents to the same degree as a warrior’s full set of armor. Fortunately, since it was now a skeleton, that protection had been lost. I felt a little lucky.
Gus had told me during his lessons that if you sent ten warriors to fight this demon, you’d end up with nothing more than ten dead bodies. He might have been exaggerating, though. After all, this guy was really sluggish compared to Blood.
I waited for the right moment, and closed in as fast as I could. As it thrust its short spear forward, I deflected it with my shield. I heard the shield and spear scrape against each other. I drew right up close. The vraskus came at me with jaws that could no longer use magic, trying to bite me instead. I’d been anticipating that, too. I ducked low and rolled forward to avoid it, leaped up, and thrust the point of my longsword in somewhere around its tailbone. I immediately twisted it hard. The tail was swinging at me again from a blind spot. I destroyed the part connecting it to the rest of its body, and felt it lose strength and collapse.
The vraskus stalled for an instant in apparent surprise.
I wasn’t going to let up. I raised my round shield, and attempted a shield bash.
This should go without saying, but ordinarily, a boy of 160 cm would never be able to shake a huge beast two meters tall just by tackling it. But my opponent was no more than bones, and the loss of its long tail had upset his balance. I slammed my body and shield into it with all the strength I could muster. There was a forcible impact, and the next instant, the vraskus was down on the ground.
I stepped down on the grip of the spear.
But the vraskus was quick to think and act. It released the spear immediately and sprang at me with outstretched arms, trying to bite me.
Just as I thought it would.
I already had my sword gripped in both hands, held high over my head, waiting to intercept its attack.
“Y-Yaaaaaaghhh!” As the vraskus dived for my windpipe, I smashed my sword down onto its skull with all of my energy. Fragments of bone flew everywhere, and the huge skeleton collapsed onto the floor facedown.
The broken tip of my sword flipped rapidly through the air. It clanged against the floor and spun to a stop in the corner of the room.
“Ah...”
The vraskus had started turning to dust, but I was more concerned with the state of the trusty longsword I had never given a name. As if in exchange for felling that strong foe, it was now impressively broken.
I felt my blood run cold.
This... was bad.
The undead were prowling this place, and I was here with no main weapon. This was very bad.
I’d certainly been shaken up, but I was soon distracted. My eye caught the short spear the vraskus had been holding. It wasn’t turning to dust. I picked it up and had a look. It didn’t look demonic. If anything, this was a dwarven spear.
I hummed thoughtfully. Maybe this was the work of the dwarves that used to live here?
But in that case, how could it have lasted so many years without rusting? Wondering this, I inspected it more closely, and noticed that Words of Creation had been engraved on it in numerous places. According to Gus, in the era of the warring gods, the gods engraved all kinds of Signs onto all kinds of items, and created a great many divine swords and legendary treasures. The dwarves had in part inherited these skills, and possessed a secret technique for imbuing their weapons with the Words.
Then this rust-free spear was a magical weapon, made by the dwarves who had peopled this land.
As a general rule, these kinds of weapons were extremely durable, and could have an effect even on specters like Gus, who couldn’t be touched by normal physical attacks. There were even some that had powerful additional effects such as spouting fire or stunning the opponent with a shock wave. The only problem was, I had no way of determining that here. I was afraid to swing around a spear whose magical effects I didn’t know.
But being without a main weapon was scarier still.
Given that the vraskus had been swinging it around perfectly fine, I figured that whatever these Words were, they probably weren’t harmful to the user. I decided to have Gus evaluate it later, and borrow its strength for the time being.
I grabbed the shaft, and practiced some jabs and thrusts to get a feel for it. It felt wonderfully easy to use, as if it was clinging to my hand.
“Right.”
Let’s see if I can’t do something with this, I thought, and no sooner had I put my foot forward when a shivering chill ran up my spine.
I spun around. Gus was there. He was staring at me, and there was murder in his eyes.
◆
“Gus? That... is you, right?” I couldn’t help but check. His aura was that foreboding.
I knew Gus as a stubborn and slightly eccentric old ghost who was intelligent and knew everything, and had a hooked nose and unfriendly eyes. Unlike Blood and Mary, he kept a li
ttle distance in his interactions with me, but if I asked him repeatedly to teach me, and had a serious attitude about it, he was conscientious enough not to dismiss me out of hand.
That was the usual Gus. I believed that deep down, he was a very good-natured and kind person. But he wasn’t like that now. There was a clearly murderous intent in his piercing stare, and his hands, held in a firm stance, felt full of mana, likely sufficient to use magic of considerable power.
The back of my neck shivered, as if someone had blown a cold breath on it.
Gus said nothing.
He was like an entirely different person. Just a menacing look and a threatening pose made him this frightening?
It didn’t look to me like this was some kind of illusion or disguise. It was definitely Gus. But what had made him so deathly angry? Why was he even here at all?
“Ah...”
— I’ll supervise, of course, but if there’s an accident, you’re seriously gonna die. So, uh, try not to end up dead.
I remembered Blood’s words.
Saying, “I’ll supervise, but there’s the danger of accidental death,” meant that I probably wouldn’t die unless said accident really occurred. In other words, no matter how arduous the lesson was, it was still a lesson. Unless I bumped straight into an enemy unprepared, somehow died instantly, or made some horrendous mistake, I could expect help to come if the situation became more than I could handle.
How would they get that help to me? If anyone was to be tasked with helping me here, in this city underground, surely it would be Gus, who, as a specter, could pass through walls. The job of tailing me would be impossible for Mary, and no doubt very difficult even for Blood. Gus had almost certainly been constantly watching me as I wandered around this underground city, battled, and searched for the exit. Which had to mean...
“This is... part of the lesson?” I asked, with trepidation in my voice. Maybe this was another part of the lesson, where Gus would be my opponent. I wanted to believe that it was.
My instinct was blaring all its warning sirens at full volume, screaming at me that I was wrong.
“It is, right? Are you going to tell me what I’m su—”
He started drawing a Word in midair in place of an answer. I could tell by looking at it. That was an attack Word.
Magic for killing someone.
The instant I recognized it, I turned on my heel and chose to run. I didn’t have a clue what was going on. But I could sense it. I needed to run, as fast as possible! While being wary of what was behind me, I ran as fast as I could toward the room’s exit.
“Expergisci,” Gus said, spinning a Word from his lips in a bone-chilling tone.
Near the exit I was just about to run through, the pile of rubble shifted and stood, taking the form of a nearly three-meter-tall giant that scraped the ceiling.
“Wh—?!” It was a golem, made with the power of magic! Gus had engraved a complex Sign into the rubble ahead of time, and had now incanted the Word to awaken it.
The character he’d drawn with his finger was for show. He’d drawn it to make me choose to flee. Which meant... that Gus had already sectioned off this place, and turned it into his own meticulously prepared kill zone.
By the time I realized that, the golem’s fist was already closing in on me. There was no way I could fully block the overwhelming mass of that fist with my little, circular shield.
Waiting until the last possible moment, I shifted my body and dodged the blow. Then, as if to counter, I thrust forward with the magical spear I’d just obtained. I was aiming for its stomach—specifically, the Sign that was sustaining it.
The point of the spear sank into the rubble golem like a skewer into meat. I swept it sideways, and scraped off the Sign. The golem turned back into individual chunks of stone debris and crashed to the ground—but barely a moment later, something grazed the side of my face and shot past it, making a hard impact with the wall and shattering there.
I immediately leaped to the side. The exit receded.
Barely an instant after I wondered what had just been shot at me, several more pieces were flying my way. Rubble! I looked back at Gus to see a large Word drawn in midair, around the circumference of which were floating countless tiny pieces of rock.
He fired them at me one after the other, like bullets from a handgun. This magic was Stone Blast, and what’s more, a very advanced version!
“Uhh—Wahh—Ahh—?!” I rolled across the floor, trying to avoid them.
I couldn’t block all of those fine fragments of rubble with my shield. They hit me in places and stung like fire. Fighting to control my breathing, I prepared to speak the Word of Negation for the next pellets that had just been cast at me, but then—
“Cadere Araneum.”
I felt a chill of fear. I was familiar with this magic. It was the Word of Web-making. I had used it in my training with Blood, so I knew firsthand how dreadful this magic could be.
I quickly flung a Word of Negation upwards. The web vanished. I put up my shield and tried to make a dash for the exit, but slipped right over on the grease that had run under my feet without any warning.
What— What was going on? He was casting this magic way too fast. Even Gus shouldn’t be able to chain spells one after another as fast as this! I turned my eyes to him, and realized the truth. He was performing verbal incantations and written inscriptions in parallel.
“Double casting!” I knew it was possible in theory, but making even the slightest mistake while using the Words could lead to the caster’s own destruction. To speak and write different Words at the same time, while also correctly allocating the mana for each—I could tell without even trying it. It wasn’t simple.
“Khhh—!” I madly rolled around, avoiding yet another rubble barrage. I tried to escape out of the greased area, but down came another web.
Paralysis. Weakening. Slowdown. Cloud of Sleep. An endless number of brutal enfeebling techniques overwhelmed me.
If I stopped moving for even a second, I would fall victim to the hail of rubble. Using the Words of Negation and my own body movements, I somehow avoided taking any lethal hits. I made a number of unsightly attempts to escape, but all to no avail. I was desperately trying to manage, but I was slowly but surely being cornered...
Expressionless, but presumably tired of my resistance, Gus spread his hands apart.
“What?”
The Signs being drawn in the air glinted with mana. Two of them—different ones for each hand.
He was still incanting Words nonstop from his mouth.
Triple casting.
“No... way...”
There was no more hope. Simple mental calculation told me that this proved Gus was capable of unleashing a whole additional person’s worth of firepower. There was no possibility of escape. I couldn’t get away. I was going to be killed.
Gus was looking down on me mercilessly, preparing to activate his magic without the slightest hesitation. He was serious. He was really going to kill me.
Why? Why?
“Gus...” I was going to be killed by the parent who had raised me, without even knowing why.
No, I thought.
No, no no no.
I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die! My eyes filled with tears. Thoughts raced through my mind.
I don’t want to die. I have to run. But I can’t run. I’ll never be able to get away.
I don’t want to die.
I don’t want to die.
If I don’t want to die...
What do I have to do to not die?
This spear has Words engraved on it. It works on specters.
Use it like a javelin. Throw it at him. Impale him. My own voice whispered calmly to me inside my head.
I might be an instant faster right now. If I impale Gus... If I strike him just right... If I kill him, I can live.
He was the one who tried to kill me. He’s getting what he deserves. So—
Impale him. Just impale
him. Impale him. Impale him.
KILL HIM!
As I listened to the insane screaming echoing inside my head, I forced a smile, and, with tense hands... I cast the spear aside.
The sound of it rolling away echoed awfully loudly. Surprised, Gus stopped activating his magic.
“Gus? Hey, Gus?” What was I meant to say? I didn’t know. But there was something I did know. “If you have to kill me, that means... you must have some good reason why, right?”
He would never do it otherwise. Even now that things had come to this, I could still believe that.
I loved him. I really loved him.
“Gus? Old Gus?” I spread my arms. I tilted my head back, and exposed my throat, to make it an easy target. “It’s okay. You don’t have to give me a ‘chance to fight back.’”
He swallowed, and seemed like he wanted to reply, but choked on his words. When was the last time I saw Gus this surprised? It might not have been since I answered that question about words when I was young.
“I get it,” I said.
If Gus had been serious, this whole farce would have been completely unnecessary. I was the only living being in this space underground. All he needed to do was blast Ignis around enough, and he could have killed me, and only me, by depriving me of oxygen and poisoning me with carbon monoxide. Even more simply, he could have just used a shock magic to collapse this large room’s ceiling. Since Gus was a specter and could pass through walls, he could also pass through a collapsing ceiling. Again, I would be the only fatality.
Yet Gus had tried to kill me with a drawn-out method like Stone Blast. As if he was giving me a chance to fight back.
“I get it... I understand what you’re doing, but...”
I could tell that this was the best compromise Gus could afford to give me. But even then—
“I don’t want to kill you, Gus...”
Tears spilled from my eyes. Of course I didn’t want to die. I was scared—very scared. The memory of having died once already didn’t change that in the slightest. But even so—
The Boy in the City of the Dead Page 9