by Ryota Hori
That thought filled Ryoma’s heart with new sorrow and further hatred towards the old man, and towards the empire of O’ltormea. Ryoma Mikoshiba may not have been one to show mercy to his foes, but he was still a human being— a common man who knew pain and sorrow as well as any other.
Suddenly, a loud banging resounded from the room’s iron door.
“What the hell?” Ryoma reflexively tensed up at the sudden change, straining his ears to pick up on what was happening.
“Is something the matter, Lord Gaius?”
There came another knock on the door. A man was hurriedly knocking from the other side, calling into the room.
“The guards informed us that they heard a loud sound from this room. I understand you are in the middle of your summoning rite, but please, show your face for but a moment!”
“Tch... Figured this would happen.” The voice on the other side of the door prompted Ryoma to click his tongue in annoyance.
Apparently those on the other side of the door were soldiers, much like the ones he slew, who had noticed the disturbance inside. This wasn’t an unpredictable development, but an inopportune one nonetheless.
Do I have a way out of this? Ryoma thought to himself. There’s gotta be something. Some kind of method.
But try as he might, he couldn’t come up with anything. There was no window in this room he could reach. The only way out of the room was the door with soldiers waiting on the other side of it, and that didn’t feel like a usable escape path. But at the same time, he couldn’t afford to do nothing.
There’s no smoothtalking my way out of this, either. Maybe I shouldn’t have killed that geezer so quickly.
That regret crossed Ryoma’s mind for a moment.
No, I couldn’t keep the old man alive. There’s no telling what kind of trick he might have pulled. It’s a good thing I finished him off.
True, there was the option of taking Gaius hostage, but he was more than just an old man. He was capable of firing lightning from his hands and kicking up powerful gusts of wind. No amount of caution would suffice if it came to handling him.
But that just made getting out of here all the more difficult. Ryoma had killed Gaius and four soldiers, which meant negotiation wasn’t an option. No, even if it was, Ryoma would never choose to negotiate with them. His dignity as a man wouldn’t allow it. Yielding to these bastards? Never.
Deciding he would need to secure a weapon, Ryoma turned over one of the soldiers’ corpses, lying face down on the ground, to procure his sword. As he did that, an idea popped into his mind.
It was a fairly dangerous gamble, with a less than fifty percent chance of working. Or more pessimistically, thirty percent, if not even less. But he had no other options. After a few moments of pondering, Ryoma came to his conclusion...
“It’s worth a shot...”
Another strong knock resounded on the door. The iron door was secured with a metal bolt as well, but if the people on the other side were adamant on getting it open, it would only take them a few minutes to do so; this world had people capable of firing lightning from their hands. He didn’t have much time.
Ryoma rummaged through the corpses’ pockets. This was another world, after all. Escaping this castle without any money on hand meant he would either have to go on to rob people for theirs, or steal food. Even if he considered finding employment, there was no telling at this point if this world had any jobs a high-schooler was capable of doing.
In a typical light novel, now would be the time when a helpful character who supports the protagonist and provides him with food and lodging would show up, but Ryoma didn’t intend to rely on that kind of convenient development.
For the time being, he fished five leather bags filled with coins from the corpses’ pockets. This money was his hope and lifeline. At the very least, he would have to find a way back to Japan, or some kind of work, before this money ran out; otherwise he would be forced to stoop to thieving in order to survive. He didn’t know the exact value of these coins, or how long he’d be able to live off this amount, but this was all he could do for now.
“Lord Gaius! Lord Gaius!” There came another knock on the door.
The shouting from behind the door grew louder. The ones outside were becoming confident something happened. Ryoma didn’t have any time to hesitate.
Ryoma took off his school uniform and, after removing his leather belt, fastened it around his chest. It was a ridiculous sight for sure, but that didn’t matter right now. After tightening the belt, he bound the leather sack containing the money to it tightly.
Next, Ryoma removed the armor from a corpse that was close to himself in size, then dressed it in his own uniform and burned off its face using a torch, in order to make it unrecognizable. He then put on the clothes and armor he had taken from the soldier.
“Phew. I put it on, somehow...” Words of relief escaped Ryoma’s lips.
He’d never put on armor, after all. But while it took him a bit of time, he’d managed to do it. Fortunately for Ryoma, this armor wasn’t a single suit, but made up by affixing several parts onto the body.
Another loud banging came from the door.
Ryoma had been so focused on donning the armor that he’d briefly forgotten about the people behind the door, but it seemed like they were just about ready to force their way in.
Ryoma approached one of the soldiers’ corpses and slashed the carotid artery on his neck. Of course, since it was a corpse, the blood didn’t squirt out, since it wasn’t pumping through the veins. Rather, the blood from the wound gradually spilled over the floor; more than enough to fool whoever would walk into the room. Ryoma then lowered himself gently onto the floor and lay down in the pool of blood.
“Not the wisest gamble, but it’s better than trying to force my way out...”
Ryoma waited patiently for the moment the door would open.
While Ryoma was lying down on the floor, a crowd of soldiers were clamoring behind the door.
“Commander, the assistant court thaumaturgist, Lady Celia Valkland, is approaching!”
In line with the soldiers’ reports, a woman with red hair appeared.
“What is the meaning of this, Sir Rolfe? What has happened to my grandfather?”
The first words to leave her lips were that harsh inquiry, directed at the man the soldiers referred to as commander. Skilled as she may have been, she wasn’t much of an amicable person.
“Calm yourself, Lady Celia.” Rolfe said, a glint in his single eye.
“How do you expect me to keep calm?!”
It appeared she had come in a hurry. Her red hair, usually well-kempt and perfectly done, was ruffled and messy, and her sizable breasts bounced with each step she took. There wasn’t anyone foolish enough to blush at her appearance at this place and time, though. Everyone present was intent on resolving this unusual situation.
“I said calm yourself!” This time, it was Rolfe who raised his voice in anger.
He was a veteran who ran through many battlefields as a member of the imperial guard, and once even blocked an arrow meant to claim the emperor’s life with his own body, a feat which cost him his eye but earned him the title of “The Emperor’s Shield.” The story of his lost eye echoed throughout the continent.
He had earned the Emperor’s trust, and was now charged with the palace’s security as the commander of the Order of the Imperial Knights. The words of this man, who had lived through the mud and blood of the battlefield years before Celia was even born, struck doubt into the heart of the talented assistant court thaumaturgist. Taken aback by his angry shout, Celia seemingly calmed down and took a deep breath to compose herself.
“My apologies, Sir Rolfe. That was a pitiful failure of composure on my behalf.” Celia said, lowering her head sincerely.
She seemed to have realized how agitated she was. If nothing else, she had the presence of mind to try and comb her tangled hair and adjust her disturbed outfit.
“No, I apol
ogize for my own boorishness. ‘Tis only natural you would be disturbed when it concerns your own flesh and blood. I am most sorry for raising my voice.”
Seeing Celia’s attitude, the gaze of Rolfe’s lone eye softened, and filled with the compassion a father looking down on his daughter might feel.
“With that said, Sir Rolfe, what of the situation?” Celia’s tone regained its calmness.
Her face was filled with the cool-headedness and cold-heartedness of the young genius who came to be known as the “Queen of Blizzards” by the neighboring countries.
“We presently know very little.” Rolfe shook his head at Celia.
Rolfe himself had only recently rushed over after hearing the report from his subordinates, and didn’t quite have a grasp on the situation either, but still knew a bit more than Celia, who had only just arrived.
“That is fine. Whatever you do know will do; please, speak.”
“Very well,” Rolfe nodded. “In order to perform the summoning rite, Lord Gaius entered this room with four soldiers. That was some three hours ago now...”
“Three hours...” Celia’s expression clouded over. “It takes two hours to prepare for the summoning rite, and the spell’s incantation takes roughly thirty minutes. Even allowing for some error, hearing no word for over three hours is most unusual indeed...”
A feeling that something had gone terribly wrong nudged at Celia’s heart.
“Yes. According to the report the guards gave me, they heard a tremor coming from the room some thirty minutes ago. I ordered the guards to contact you and headed here myself.”
“I see. And then?” Nodding at Rolfe’s explanation, Celia urged him to continue.
“Upon coming here, I found these soldiers waiting in front of the door. Apparently they’ve been forbidden from letting anyone in or from making any noise during the rite, so some of them went to make the report while they remained here on standby... Isn’t that right, men?!”
Rolfe suddenly shouted, turning his gaze to the two soldiers standing behind. Their expressions were thick with despair, standing as proof that they were uneasy about whether they had handled the situation correctly.
“I see... Your judgment was quite sound.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Celia looked to the soldiers, who stood in attention to her words of encouragement. Receiving her smile made the soldiers’ expressions relax. They had confidence they had done their job as palace guards properly, but there weren’t many nobles who would see it as such. At worst, they might demand to know why they did not barge in at once, and punish them for it. But since they realized that wasn’t the case, their expressions softened.
Rolfe ignored the two soldiers’ demeanor, and continued his explanation. Now wasn’t the time to concern himself with their actions.
“But the fact remains that too much time has passed. So I’ve taken it upon myself to try and knock a few times since I arrived, but...”
“No response?”
“Aye, milady.”
“The preparations for the rite and the incantation for the spell shouldn’t take three hours, even at the longest.” Celia worded her thoughts after hearing Rolfe’s explanation. “And if a practitioner as skilled as Grandfather hasn’t come out after that long... After all, Grandfather has conducted over a hundred summoning rites...”
“Quite right,” Rolfe nodded at Celia’s doubtful words. “Lord Gaius has conducted the summoning rite one hundred and twenty one times, and has never once failed it.”
Rolfe’s expression stood as evidence of his deep bond and trust in Gaius’s skill as a thaumaturgist. The rite of summoning from another world was well known in this world. The existence of otherworlders was documented in the ancient myths of other countries as well. But while the rite’s existence was well known, it wasn’t something which was regularly performed. Few thaumaturgists were capable of performing it, even if one were to search the western continent up and down.
The summoning rite was the greatest, most difficult secret art of all. The fact that Gaius Valkland had performed it with a success rate of one hundred percent stood as proof of his fearsome skill. But that was only to speak of his past achievements.
“Yes, so far there haven’t been any problems.” Celia said, doubt hanging behind her words.
“So you think Lord Gaius may have failed the ritual, Lady Celia?” Rolfe’s expression clouded over.
“It is hard to discern at this point. But if we assume nothing happened, it becomes hard to explain the tremor the soldiers sensed. There is no aspect of the summoning ritual which would cause such a disturbance.”
“So you’re saying there was some kind of... accident? Should we have His Grace evacuate the palace at once?”
Rolfe wasn’t foolish enough to naively assume that there was zero probability of an accident occurring simply because none had ever happened until now. And he also knew that thaumaturgical accidents could have long lasting consequences.
A thaumaturgical calamity. The image of the worst possible conclusion flashed in Rolfe’s mind. If anything were to happen to interrupt the summoning rite and the spell were to go out of control, there was no telling what could happen. Having just an entire ward in the palace be blown away was optimistic. At worst, the entire country could be wiped away, just as had once befallen an ancient kingdom of old.
I may be just assuming the absolute worst. But if that presumption proves to be true, we must secure His Grace’s safety, for the sake of our nation...
The emperor’s safety, if no one else’s, would have to be secured. That thought spurred Rolfe to action. But Celia shook her head, denying his concerns. Had there been a thaumaturgical calamity, some signs of it would have already manifested outside the room by now. Even if its effects were limited to just the room, Celia excelled at detecting thaumaturgy and would detect any disturbance at this range. Which left only one conclusion.
“No. In all likelihood, Grandfather must have made use of his thaumaturgy.”
Rolfe’s single eye glinted at Celia’s suggestion. Gaius may have used attack thaumaturgy while fighting someone.
“Attack thaumaturgy... That’s certainly possible. But if that’s the case, why wouldn’t Lord Gaius leave the room?”
That was the main reason Rolfe couldn’t discard the possibility of an accident. Few in the entire continent could survive a spell fired by Gaius, the O’ltormea Empire’s court thaumaturgist. The idea of something happening in the middle of the rite to immobilize him seemed more probable than that. Of course, Rolfe knew there were no absolutes in battle, but Rolfe couldn’t imagine Gaius being slain by someone.
“Maybe he can’t leave the room.”
“Impossible.” Rolfe’s expression changed at Celia’s words. “Surely a man of Lord Gaius’s caliber...”
Celia had pointed out the one possibility Rolfe was deliberately trying to ignore.
“If we consider the worst possible scenario...” Celia’s features tensed up.
That was the expression of a person realizing the possible death of a relative.
“My apologies!” Rolfe suddenly lowered his head to Celia.
“Wh-What are you doing, Sir Rolfe?” Celia became flustered at Rolfe’s sudden apology.
“Lady Celia, I have erred in my judgment.”
I should have broken in as soon as I heard the report. Had I entered the room as soon a possible, perhaps I could have saved Lord Gaius’s life.
That thought crossed Rolfe’s mind, but Celia shook her head.
“No, Sir Rolfe. It is law that no one may interrupt the summoning rite while it is in progress. If you’d have broken into the room on your own discretion, that on its own may have caused a catastrophe. I believe that no matter what happened, your waiting for me was a wise decision... So please, stop this at once.”
Soothing Rolfe, she had him raise his lowered head. True enough, no one was allowed entry to the summoning room in the middle of the rite, for fear of a secondary
disaster. Such was the level of cautious attention that summoning required.
“I do doubt the possibility of an accident. Had that occurred, its influence would have been made visible to us by now.”
The meaning behind Celia’s words was an all too cruel premonition.
“Lady Celia...” Rolfe noticed Celia’s shoulders were trembling.
She was desperately trying to restrain her emotions towards her one and only blood relative.
“Of course, this is just assuming the worst possible scenario. For now, let us go inside and confirm the situation for ourselves!”
Rolfe could only watch over Celia as she clung to the last strand of hope.
“Since the door is made of iron, it is bolted from the inside. I’ll have a battering ram brought over to bash it open, so please give us some time.”
Rolfe quickly prepared to order his soldiers, but Celia seemingly had no intention of abiding by Rolfe’s suggestion.
“No, Sir Rolfe. We haven’t the time to spare. I’ll break through it.”
Those words made Rolfe panic. The door to the summoning room was rather thick and sturdy, and a normal thaumaturgist wouldn’t be able to break through it. Of course, Celia, being the assistant court thaumaturgist, would be able to; but the problem was what would come after that.
“Th-That’s...” Rolfe mumbled in a flustered manner.
But there was no cutting into Celia’s incantation.
“Spirits that govern over fire! Grant me your protection and abide by my will!”
“Lady Celia, no! Men, take cover!”
Ignoring his attempts to stop her, Celia completed her incantation.
“Crush the foe that stands in my way! Flame Blast!”
A globe of flame swirled in the palms of Celia’s hands, who stuck out her hands towards the iron door. The moment she did, the door distorted, and the thundering sound of an explosion echoed through the castle. The shock and noise of the explosion robbed Rolfe of his eyesight and hearing for a few moments. Heat and the charred smell typical of a fire filled the corridor. The strength of the blast ran minute cracks through the castle walls.