Chapter 24
The Forest’s Minion (3)
“Aaargh!”
Rude was also sent flying across the village.
He had layered a Flame Shield over Kaspar’s Shield, yet somehow met much the same fate as Kaspar.
After sending Rude flying with a single kick, the minion laughed savagely.
Crush!
It tightened its grip, pulverizing the lieutenant’s severed head.
“Lieutenant!”
“Kill it!”
“You son of a bitch!”
Perhaps the lieutenant had been greatly respected, because the mercenaries charged forward with furious screams.
A cruel sneer appeared on the minion’s face amid the rain of spears and blades.
What followed was an overwhelming massacre.
Boom!
Kaspar was sent flying across the village once more, this time crashing into the bell tower at the rear.
Crash!
After disposing of every mercenary atop the palisade, the minion landed on the ground.
It entered the village.
Awooooo!
Kaspar’s Shield shattered.
The barrier that had protected him until the very last moment broke into countless fragments and slowly disappeared.
“Urk!”
The minion threw back its head and howled toward the sky.
The horrifying cry spread throughout the village.
The Silver Wolf and Aezk mercenaries, who had been fighting the clones, trembled as a numbing sensation swept through their bodies.
Then the minion vanished.
Another earthshaking impact erupted.
The minion had charged straight into the center of the square and struck Kaspar.
Terrible pain spread across Kaspar’s back. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
Through his fading vision, he saw the village’s mercenaries charging forward.
Robens and Rude joined them in attacking the minion.
“You bastard! How dare you kill Leonard!”
Robens’s fury was particularly intense. Shouting what was presumably the lieutenant’s name, he unleashed a vicious barrage of attacks.
—Heh. Hehehe. How absurd.
The minion calmly endured the attacks before swinging one foreleg and striking Robens.
With the sound of crumpling metal, Robens was hurled into a palisade post.
Crack!
The post shattered.
A section of the palisade collapsed on top of the fallen Robens.
The others met similar fates.
No matter how many attacks they unleashed, the minion drew strength from the forest and regenerated without difficulty. It then began striking down the mercenaries one after another.
—You entered the domain of my master and me without even preparing yourselves for death. Your arrogance is truly astounding.
Kaspar tried to deploy a Shield to protect the mercenaries, but his arm would not rise.
Had his muscles been damaged?
It did not feel serious. It would probably recover with time.
Unfortunately, the situation isn’t leisurely enough for me to wait.
After disposing of the mercenaries around it, the minion gave a vicious grin.
The ghostly flames in its eyes were aimed directly at Kaspar.
Danger.
“…Ugh.”
He forced strength into his unresponsive legs and rose.
His arms still refused to move.
“Fire Breath!”
Taking advantage of the opening, Rude summoned his spell with a desperate cry, engulfing the minion’s side.
Startled by the sudden heat, the minion retreated diagonally.
The flames missed their target and formed a barrier between Kaspar and the minion.
Unintentionally, Rude had bought Kaspar some time.
“Kaspar.”
A voice came from beside him.
When Kaspar turned his head, he saw the Aezk mercenaries. Allen was calling to him.
The stench of blood was thick around them.
It appeared they had finished off the minion’s clones and joined the others.
“Is everyone all right?”
Allen remained silent for a moment before nodding.
“…More or less. How are you? Are you all right?”
“My arms won’t move, but they should recover shortly.”
“That’s fortunate. Then flee to White Eagle Citadel immediately.”
“…?”
“Use every spell and every means at your disposal. Run without looking back.”
Bewildered by the unexpected order, Kaspar asked again.
“To White Eagle Citadel?”
Allen turned toward the minion.
It was waiting for the flames to die down.
Was it deliberately taking its time despite being able to rely on its regeneration and pass through the flames?
Or did its instinctive fear of fire remain unavoidable despite its seemingly limitless regenerative ability?
“I’m not blind. I know there’s no way out of this situation.”
Allen readjusted his grip on his sword.
“I discussed it with the others a moment ago. We decided to select one of us as the Ashen Messenger and buy enough time for that person to escape. We drew lots, and your name was chosen.”
The North was a barren land filled with dangers.
Even under such harsh conditions, mercenaries fought for enormous rewards and honor.
Skilled mercenaries frequently achieved valuable victories despite the terrible environment, but some unlucky groups suffered bitter defeats instead.
Sometimes, they were completely annihilated.
Victory and defeat were both common occurrences in war.
But who would survive to report the final wishes of mercenaries who had been wiped out?
Who would carry their identification tags home?
Who would provide proof that they had not fled or deserted like cowards, but remained and fought until the bitter end?
There had to be someone who could attest to their final moments and deliver their last wishes—and the compensation paid for their blood—to their bereaved families.
In the North, those who carried such final messages were called Ashen Messengers.
“You’re deciding something like that by drawing lots at a time like this?”
Kaspar asked, sounding slightly dumbfounded.
“What’s wrong with that? It’s the fairest method.”
Allen looked back at him as though he could not understand the objection.
A battlefield was filled with unpredictable factors.
Consequently, every mercenary who lived on the battlefield believed in luck to some degree.
And drawing lots was the most widely accepted method of letting luck decide.
“Whatever the case, go and inform the lord of the citadel. Tell him that the Black Druid Order and a forest minion appeared here. Bear witness to the final moments of the Aezk and Silver Wolf Mercenary Companies and deliver our identification tags. That is your duty.”
“But…”
Kaspar fell silent when he looked at the minion.
It was shaking its body again, creating more clones.
The clones rose throughout the village.
There were twice as many as before.
“Skreeee!”
The situation was truly hopeless.
“What an utterly ridiculous monster.”
Allen muttered in a hollow voice, seemingly unable to believe what he was seeing.
Then he looked back at Kaspar one last time.
“I’d hoped we might share a drink someday. It’s a shame.”
Allen rose with a calm smile.
Zrek stood beside him.
“Yaaaaah!”
“Let’s coordinate our attacks with that old man, Allen.”
With those final words, Allen and Zrek ran to help Robens.
Kaspar was about to say something when someone raised a hand to stop him.
It was Ellasen.
“Kaspar.”
Her expression was unusually calm.
“The truth is, we didn’t draw lots.”
“…What?”
Without speaking, Ellasen pulled aside her armor and exposed her shoulder.
A large wound marred her left shoulder.
With a furious roar, Robens rose from the wreckage of the palisade.
His eyes had rolled back with rage as he charged at the minion once more.
Blood streamed continuously from Ellasen’s wound.
It was a severe injury. Even if it was not immediately fatal, leaving it untreated would undoubtedly place her life in danger.
“I suffered this when that thing howled earlier and the clones attacked us. We didn’t tell you, but Allen and Zrek are in similar condition. Even if we tried to escape, I don’t know whether we’d make it to White Eagle Citadel.”
Under Kaspar’s gaze, Ellasen awkwardly ran a hand through her hair.
“Well, there’s that, and I also owe you for what happened with Gerfert. So I think this is fair.”
Ellasen smiled gently and gripped her sword.
“Go. We can’t buy you much time.”
Then she followed Allen and Zrek, charging toward the minion.
Kaspar silently watched them go.
“…Fallen Throne.”
He called to her softly.
Until then, the Fallen Throne had been sitting atop what remained of the village bell tower, absorbing every trace of vitality from the magical beast corpses scattered throughout the area.
She acted as though she had no interest whatsoever in what was happening around her.
Yet even she turned her head when Kaspar called.
[What is it?]
“I think this is where our covenant ends.”
Kaspar took one deep breath.
His fingers had finally begun to move again.
“Thank you for everything.”
[That sounds as though you have no intention of fleeing.]
“There wouldn’t be any point.”
Even with the Aezk Mercenary Company’s consideration, the situation was not so favorable.
The minion’s speed was terrifying.
Kaspar himself had been sent flying without even being able to react to it.
How far could he possibly flee on his feeble legs?
The minion would catch him before half a day passed—perhaps in less than an hour.
Even if he fled, the outcome was effectively predetermined.
If this is going to be the end anyway…
Kaspar spread his hand toward the night sky.
Stars shone between his fingers, glowing as beautifully as magical patterns.
If the ending has already been decided…
Rather than die alone after an undignified attempt to escape—
He wanted to meet his end amid the dazzling display of magic that had given meaning to his colorless life.
Surrounded by the endlessly fulfilling sensation of magic.
Beside the people who had accompanied him, however briefly.
“This truly is the end. I enjoyed the time we spent together. I hope you find a covenant partner who pleases you and finally fulfill your long-cherished wish.”
After speaking, Kaspar turned toward the minion.
Strangely, he felt relieved.
His fear of death disappeared, and his mind filled only with thoughts of which spells he should use and how he should cast them.
Ferrous Stream.
Ignite.
Swamp Fireball.
Magmalite.
And all the other precious spells he had learned with such joy.
As he walked forward, he recalled every one of their patterns.
Patterns of all shapes and forms appeared within his mind.
Each possessed a distinct radiance and scattered faint particles of light.
The sight was truly—
“So beautiful.”
His gaze softened.
A faint smile unknowingly formed on his lips.
Which spell should he cast first?
Then—
[Are you really going to be like this?]
A sharp voice came from behind him.
Kaspar flinched and turned his head.
The Fallen Throne stood directly behind him in her youthful form, wearing a slight frown.
“…?”
[Are you telling your bride to abandon her covenant partner so easily?]
“What? No… I’m not telling you to abandon me. It’s just that the current situation—”
[Enough.]
The Fallen Throne pressed a slender finger against his lips.
Her sea-blue jewel eyes stared directly into his.
Her delicate lips moved.
[Do you remember the terms of our covenant?]
Why was she asking this now?
Nevertheless, Kaspar answered.
“How could I forget?”
He still remembered them vividly.
—At times, I shall become a guide upon the path of your pursuit of magic.
—At times, I shall become a compass for your choices among other people.
—At times, I shall become the knot in your lifeline when peril stands before you.
“You said you would become my guide, my compass, and the knot in my lifeline.”
Only after hearing his answer did the Fallen Throne’s frown disappear.
A tranquil smile appeared on her face.
[Yes. You remember.]
She extended both hands and caressed Kaspar’s cheeks, which were a full head above her.
It was the sort of gesture an adult would make toward a child.
[I will not let you go.]
The currents of vitality converging upon the Fallen Throne from every direction intensified.
[Rejoice, my covenant partner.]
[The knot has now been tied.]
“Huff… Huff…”
Allen breathed heavily.
This damn thing is truly overwhelming.
It was an absurdly unfair battle.
No matter how many attacks they unleashed, the minion simply recovered as though nothing had happened.
We won’t even last ten minutes.
And that prediction was already filled with as much optimism as he could muster.
The magical tool carried by Zrek beside him had grown red-hot from overheating.
The device, which had deployed Shields several times, had also reached its limit.
It might manage one more.
After that, it was over.
No matter how he considered it, Allen could not imagine surviving the minion’s attack without a Shield.
“Ah, what a shame. This isn’t how I imagined my final moments.”
Beside him, Ellasen spoke in an intentionally bright tone, pretending nothing was wrong.
The bleeding from the deep wound in her shoulder was growing increasingly severe.
“What did you imagine?”
“Dying happily in the arms of a blond crown prince, inside a harem palace filled with handsome Imperial men.”
Allen chuckled at her joke.
“True. Eternal life wouldn’t be so bad.”
He raised his sword, then slowly lowered its point toward the minion.
It’s a shame to die, and I still regret the dreams I never fulfilled…
But if this truly had to be his end, perhaps it was not such a terrible one.
“All right, everyone! Let’s struggle as disgracefully as possible until the bitter end!”
No one answered.
When Allen looked around, both Zrek and Ellasen were lying limply on the ground.
What?
“Huh?”
A sudden wave of drowsiness struck him, leaving him bewildered.
“…What is this?”
Even Rude, who had been supporting them from the opposite side, collapsed.
This was not something he could resist.
What was happening?
Had he lost too much blood?
He stabbed his thigh with a dagger, but it had no effect.
Irresistible drowsiness began weighing down his entire body.
“Ah… Wait.”
There was more than one.
Roses filled with pitch-black darkness, as though they were not flowers from this world, were blooming throughout the village—across the ground and over the buildings alike.
Dong… Dong… Dong…
As Allen succumbed to sleep, the ominous tolling of an ancient bell echoed in his ears.
I’m going to fall asleep like this? After acting so damn heroic in front of Kaspar, I’m going to end up snoring pathetically?
“Don’t… screw… with me. Seriously…”
Thud.
A strange sight appeared before his fading eyes.
What is that…? Roses?
Black roses were blooming everywhere.