Chapter 32
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Chapter 32
[I wonder if Yurien is doing the same thing? No, wait—he participated in this monster subjugation before I turned back time, so he'd know exactly what happened then! So you can just rest, can't you? He'll handle it himself, that big oaf.]
The Demonic Sword grumbled. Echinacea had no desire to think about it, so she didn't respond. At least she had something to focus on—a small mercy.
Then, in an instant, something shifted. She turned only her head, silent as a beast, and stared in that direction. Beyond the sentries standing watch in the downpour, everyone else was barricaded in the tents. Yet she sensed movement outside them. It wasn't from Baraha's direction. Yurien had left his tent.
Since her tent sat directly beside his, she could see him through the slightly parted entrance. He walked out into the rain without an umbrella, wearing only a hooded cloak, and gazed intently toward where Baraha and the vice-commander's tents stood. Then he turned and headed elsewhere.
[Where's he going?]
"I told you not to call out to Yurien carelessly."
[Hey, is that really the priority right now? He's heading somewhere weird! What are you going to do?]
Echinacea wrestled with the decision in a brief, intense moment. Should she follow Yurien into the downpour as he went somewhere alone, telling no one? Or should she keep watching to see if danger befell Baraha?
Time was scarce, so her deliberation was short. She rose, seized her sword, and drew out a smooth-textured cloak to drape over herself as a makeshift rain cover. Then she took up a deep violet umbrella.
[So we're following him?]
"Yurien clearly knows something. The fact that he's leaving his tent now means he's acting on knowledge of some kind."
[But what if something happens at camp while we're gone?]
"I don't intend to follow him far. ...Somehow, I don't think he'll go far either."
Mana surged from her core throughout her body. Echinacea erased her presence. While she couldn't match professional hunters or assassins in their specialized training, mastery in any discipline granted competence in related fields. At least, she was confident Yurien wouldn't detect her.
'Good thing I wore dark colors.'
She concealed herself in the rain and quietly followed Yurien.
His silver hair and white uniform were hidden beneath a blue-green cloak now soaked through by the downpour. He slipped past the cadets standing guard and left the camp. Yurien moved without hesitation, as though he knew his destination with certainty.
The entrance to White Raven Gorge lay at a distance that would be clearly visible from camp on a clear day. He headed straight for the gorge. As he drew closer, an ominous mist grew denser. Yurien vanished into the fog.
Echinacea hesitated briefly, then checked the camp once more. It lay quiet beneath the torrential rain. Finally, she too stepped into the mist.
Yurien didn't venture deep into the gorge. He approached the right cliff wall near the entrance and swept his hand across the wet rock and earth. Slowly, he extended his right hand. A white holy sword flowed from his palm into his grasp. In the darkness, the holy blade emitted a faint luminescence.
[Hey, he looks like he's searching for something.]
The Demonic Sword murmured with bewilderment. Echinacea shared the same question.
'He's using mana, it seems.... What is he looking for?'
She hid behind a jutting tree and watched him quietly from beyond her umbrella. The faint light from the holy sword illuminated his profile. Lines drawn with geometric precision. His lowered brows cast shadows across his blue eyes.
He extended his hand to the wall and began probing slowly. His hand became filthy with wet earth, but he paid no mind. Then his hand stopped at one spot. He felt that place with his fingertips for a moment, then withdrew. Immediately after, he raised the holy sword and drove it into that point. The white blade pierced the earthen wall as smoothly as cutting through tofu. In that instant.
Kiiiiiiiieeeeeeee!
A bone-chilling shriek tore through the sound of rain. Thunder rolled at precisely the right moment, half-burying that piercing cry. As the shriek erupted, the wall where the holy sword was embedded cracked, and a heap of decomposed corpses tumbled down.
And above those corpses, formless pale smoke-like entities surged forth. At positions that might be called eyes, vivid crimson lights gleamed like beads. Those things without mouths shrieked as they poured out like a swarm bursting from a rat hole.
'Specters!'
Echinacea recognized them instantly. Typical phantom-type monsters. Those ethereal things that shimmered like smoke, lacking physical form, couldn't do anything through physical means. Yet they ranked among the most dangerous of all monsters.
Specters attach themselves to humans. A human possessed by a Specter attacks those around them like a monster. A Master-rank knight could resist, but those unable to use mana were helpless.
'Now I understand how Senior Baraha died.'
If Specters had swarmed the camp without warning, many cadets and cadet officers besides the knights would have been possessed and run amok. Countless casualties would have resulted from subduing them. Possessed comrades rampaging on a night of thunder and lightning—it was a nightmare. Even a powerful force like the Changtian Knights would suffer massive losses.
And now she understood why Yurien came here alone. Anyone who couldn't resist Specters would be a burden rather than help. And it would be difficult to explain how he'd detected their presence beforehand.
'Among the Giosa Owners, only Yurien has the memory.'
That realization struck her suddenly. If another Giosa Owner had retained the memory, they too would have come to eliminate the Specters preemptively. The fact that only Yurien was here meant he alone among the Giosa Owners carried the memory.
Relief mingled with a resentment she couldn't direct at anyone—why, of all people, did it have to be Yurien who remembered? The sensation of her heart crumbling made Echinacea bite her lower lip hard.
[Wow, disgustingly numerous.]
The Demonic Sword muttered with distaste. Even she, with no intention of revealing herself, found herself briefly wondering whether to help—the number of Specters pouring out was formidable.
Specters pour forth from the mist. They circle around Yurien de Harden Kirie, the closest human, emitting bone-chilling shrieks. Eerie crimson eyes drift through the fog. A probing, deliberate movement continues—as if they were taking his measure.
Yurien de Harden Kirie stands motionless, his hand gripping the holy sword embedded in the wall. Water drips steadily from his silver hair, darkened to gray by the downpour. Rainwater pooling at his jaw swells, then falls in a single drop.
The moment that droplet touches the puddle below, the Specters suddenly surge toward him. His entire form is swallowed in an instant by murky shadows. Even though they are translucent, hundreds layer upon hundreds, clumping together until Yurien de Harden Kirie is nearly invisible.
[Hey... isn't that dangerous?]
"...No, it's fine."
Echinacea Loaz whispers her response, shaking her head slightly. The moment the Specters surge forward, she releases the tension in her hands—hands that had unconsciously gripped her sword. There is no need for her to intervene.
Yurien de Harden Kirie draws Rangiosa from where he had driven it into the wall.
White mana flows along the white blade. It layers upon itself, again and again, until the very form of the sword is obscured by mana. Then the golden patterns hovering around the holy sword burst with blinding light. Mana expands explosively. And the blade moves.
Kiiiiiiiieeeeeeee!
A shriek sharper than before tears through the air. The agony of annihilation is felt. White mana sweeps across all directions like the moon itself. The Specters vanish without a trace as they are touched, leaving nothing behind. The mist is caught in that terrible edge and driven back like a wave.
Echinacea Loaz relaxes and leans her back against a tree.
"It becomes strongest when facing evil."
[That's Rangiosa's ability, after all.]
"Rangiosa, yes. And him as well."
She smiles faintly. Surrounded by white mana and the golden light of the holy sword, he appears noble. Unlike the dark stains clinging to her own palms.
It will not take long for all the Specters to vanish. Echinacea Loaz does not wait to see it through to the end and leaves the place. She slowly makes her way back toward the Camp. As the tension drains, fatigue settles in. Now she can rest without worry. Baraha Islaf will not die. No one will. With that thought, she emerges from the mist.
And the moment the Camp comes into view, every hair on her body stands on end. Space is warping. Like refracting glass, or spreading water. A small distortion grows larger and larger. It is being generated in the empty air above the Camp, extending downward. The Camp, submerged in rain and darkness, belatedly notices it and rings the emergency bell frantically.
Echinacea Loaz runs the instant she sees it. If she is pulled into that, it is over. Even a Giosa Owner cannot easily guarantee survival. Before her return, Echinacea Loaz had willingly entered such a thing to obtain a single Giosa, but she had nearly died escaping from there.
'Why is a Knot forming here of all places!'
A Knot. A node created by cutting space. A space separated from the existing world. The trace left by Lakia Giosa, the divine sword of space, carving through space.
Unlike Kairos Giosa, the divine sword that observes time from a fixed position, Lakia Giosa—the divine sword created by a god using space as its material—drifts through space according to its nature. The form of that blade is scarcely known. It has never revealed its true appearance in any record. The existence of Lakia Giosa, which no one has ever seen, is proven by the Knots it leaves behind.
Lakia Giosa wanders, carving through space. And those carved spaces become Knots.
What kind of space exists within a Knot, what lies inside—no one can be certain until they enter. Yet there are ways to make educated guesses. Lakia Giosa does not create space; it cuts and separates space that already exists. Thus, the environment where the Knot forms influences what the Knot becomes.
For example, sometimes a Knot forms near children playing in a peaceful village. The interior of such a Knot is a fairy-tale world filled with fairies as children would dream. The children pulled inside go missing for a time, but none are harmed and they return. And they chatter about having seen fairies.
But such fortunate circumstances are extremely rare. The world is far drier and murkier than fairy tales. Most Knots are grotesque and dangerous. In this case, a Knot formed near a Monster Lair like the White Raven Gorge—the probability that its interior is hell is high.
'If Yurien de Harden Kirie had known, he would never have pitched Camp here. This Knot did not occur before. Damn it, why...!'
Echinacea Loaz clenches her teeth and runs. The speed at which the Knot swells is not constant. For now it moves at roughly the pace of a walking person, but it could suddenly burst open.
Then it will swallow everything within its range and separate. When it will return to normal, whether those swallowed inside can survive until the Knot disappears—no one knows.
Below the warping space, the members of Changtian are frantically gathering their belongings and fleeing. She quickly takes in the sight of the escaping people.
Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org