Ch.84Diminuendo (4)

“…quite fast.”

In the darkness, there was a light clearly visible. Looking at that light, Biltaine murmured softly.

If they came here, it would likely cause problems with the ritual itself. He needed to bring Evan Fried alone.

To use him for the ritual, and to separate the Crown Prince and Theorad from Evan Fried.

Was there any need to fight all three of them? Though victory was assured,

Roman’s principle had always been to only fight battles he was certain to win.

“What will you do, sir?”

At those words, Biltaine tilted his head slightly.

If asked what to do, there weren’t many options in this situation, were there?

It was dangerous… truly a precarious situation. Though it didn’t feel that way at all.

In any case, they didn’t know he was the Master.

Even if they knew he was the Master, they knew nothing about the domain he possessed.

The only variable would be Evan Fried… but hadn’t he already prepared a way to make him come alone?

He was somewhat surprised that the Imperial Family had discovered his connection to black magic faster than expected.

Seeing how confidently the Crown Prince had stepped forward, they must have physical evidence as well.

Given the circumstances, there weren’t many moves left to make.

A move that would allow the ritual to proceed while simultaneously obtaining the sacrifice needed to complete it.

“…Yuris must be empty.”

As Biltaine muttered, the shadows arrayed before him began to move.

Did Evan Fried know that his most precious person was in danger?

Finding this thought rather amusing, Biltaine quietly smiled in the darkness.

At dawn, a red moon would rise instead of the sun.

Biltaine’s eyes closed quietly. Not much time remained. The annihilation of everything. The achievement of 300 years.

#

Theorad’s domain lay in enhancing his own strengths.

In a space covered with blue mana, he did more than just control the black space being wielded.

He could wield space, tear it, and even use those tears to leap forward.

As if proving he hadn’t become the Imperial Knight Commander for nothing,

Theorad was displaying movements lighter than ever before.

‘That last fight helped quite a bit.’

While cutting down a black magician, Theorad glanced briefly at Evan fighting in the distance.

Their previous duel—he’d thought there was nothing more to improve, but

when he was cut by Evan, he felt a subtle sensation.

Though he had utilized more mana than Evan, he was the one who got cut first.

Beyond swordsmanship, it meant Evan’s sense was superior to his own.

Unfortunately, sense was something innate, difficult to improve no matter how much effort one put in.

So he focused on refining what he already possessed.

His sword was slow. That had been his weakness since childhood,

and he had put considerable effort into making his slow sword faster.

But he never reached Master level.

After lingering at a mediocre Expert level for 20 years, he realized something:

that slow sword itself was his strength. It was slow, yet not slow.

Paradoxical as it was, Theorad’s sword demonstrated this reality.

At first glance, it seemed like one could defend against it with a sword, or even avoid it.

But those facing it directly couldn’t even consider such thoughts.

Because the space where the sword passed became distorted, limiting the very space one could move in.

A sword that couldn’t be avoided, nor even defended against—that was his sword.

“Hoo!”

With a thud, Theorad landed on the ground and exhaled roughly.

The physical toll of swinging his sword was beyond imagination.

Sharpened senses meant, to put it negatively, becoming more sensitive.

His body was gradually growing heavier from processing information at more than twice the normal rate.

But there were results to show for it—

looking at the nearly hundred black magicians he had cut down beside him made his heart feel somewhat lighter.

Looking up at the sky, he saw clouds that had grown slightly darker. No, could those even be called clouds?

The dark clouds that not only covered the duke’s mansion but made its form disappear entirely were surely black mist.

Within it, his senses didn’t work. Neither mana nor his meager swordsmanship could be properly utilized as usual.

“…It’s black mist.”

As Evan muttered, Theorad nodded quietly while regulating his breathing.

Black mist—perhaps there was only one way to break through it now.

The dragon blood possessed by the knight beside him had purifying properties.

Perhaps… he and His Highness might not be able to go that way.

With that thought, Theorad looked at Evan, but Evan wore a surprisingly calm expression.

“I can’t break through it. Completely removing black mist is something I can’t do unless I’m a dragon.”

Evan shook his head slightly. Black mist—he had experience erasing it when eliminating Maloric before,

but the black mist surrounding the duke’s mansion was of a concentration incomparable to what he knew.

To erase it, he would need to envelop the entire mansion with his mana.

It was something he couldn’t do now, not being a Master,

so he would have to find another way to enter. Or enter alone.

What were the odds of success if he entered alone?

Risking his life might be one thing, but it wasn’t easy to stake his life in the current situation.

Airin was waiting for him.

The annihilation wouldn’t end completely with Roman’s subjugation, and above all, his own family had many problems.

With a self-deprecating smile, Evan slowly drew up his mana.

Remaining mana… still plenty. His stamina was fine, and he had no wounds.

The black magicians who would have given him trouble before were now mere trifles.

He had grown that much, and he thought he might be able to defeat Duke Roman without much trouble.

The top.

The top of the duke’s mansion, rising like a spire, seemed to be piercing the moon.

Was it planning to stab the moon and make it lose its light? The sky, now completely covered in black mist, no longer shone with light.

As he gazed at the moonlight faintly seeping through the gaps, the surroundings began to brighten with blazing white flames.

“Seems like we’ve dealt with most of them. Now we just need to enter?”

Kaisel frowned as he removed flesh stuck to his body.

He didn’t know the condition of Theorad or Evan, but he himself was quite exhausted.

He didn’t want to be a hindrance, but if things continued like this… he didn’t want to harbor negative thoughts.

But he cursed this body of his. If he pushed himself here, Lord Theorad would say: You mustn’t strain yourself any further.

Strain? No, this wasn’t straining. As Emperor of the Empire, as one born with the glory of Evangelium,

didn’t he have the rightful authority to draw his sword against black magicians?

He knew he couldn’t cut down Biltaine directly. But he wanted to help.

Beyond being the Crown Prince or anything else, he wanted to at least support the two knights who had risked their lives.

A bitter taste rose from within. A little… he could still move a little more.

After all, he had only cut down a few dozen black magicians.

It wasn’t as if he had captured Maloric like Evan had, but he could at least capture as many as he had so far.

With a sigh, he smiled as usual, and that’s when Theorad’s gaze finally fell on Kaisel.

“Are you alright?”

“Of course, I’m perfectly fine.”

As Kaisel smiled slightly, Theorad, who had been staring at him, slowly turned his head.

Evan continued to keep his gaze fixed on the duke’s mansion.

The firmly closed castle gate—hadn’t all the black magicians coming from inside already fallen?

Only those remaining inside were left. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how to enter.

With a whoosh, the white flames touching the black mist began to fade.

He could create a temporary gap, but it might not be enough for all three to enter.

He needed to completely remove the black mist from the gate area.

The only concern was what might come out the moment the gate opened.

Despite killing so many black magicians, there had been no attack from inside the mansion.

Neither Adel Roman nor Duke Roman himself had appeared.

The sense of foreboding grew. Why were they so quiet?

Looking around, Evan suddenly remembered something and took out a brooch he had kept in his pocket.

Like the sapphire necklace he had given to Airin,

the still brilliantly shining blue brooch brought peace to his mind.

His mouth tasted bitter. The inexplicable anxiety remained.

It had been fine so far, but entering the duke’s mansion was just the beginning.

After that… he couldn’t know now. He would have to face it somehow.

What Count Kasim had given him was still with him.

He thought of it as a last resort, but he might need to use it.

And at that moment, the color of the brooch in Evan’s hand began to fade.

The once brilliant color lost its hue, turning gray, and eventually the shattered brooch turned to powder and scattered.

Evan’s face turned deathly pale. In an instant, flames surged, and thoughts raced rapidly through Evan’s head.

It was clearly a reaction indicating something was wrong with Airin. But why? Her location couldn’t be determined.

The mana quickly enveloping the surroundings began to sense the area.

Not just nearby, but the expanding mana was sufficient to reach Yuris Duchy.

And the darkness that touched the end of that mana. Evan’s eyes widened.

“Ha.”

His heart sank at the realization that what he had feared most had happened.

It was a reality he didn’t want to think about, but he couldn’t deny what had already occurred.

The only fortunate thing was that the brooch itself would have protected her from the danger that befell her.

It was still alright for now. But he couldn’t continue this subjugation, could he?

“Lord Theorad, it seems the lady has—”

Thud.

Evan had opened his mouth to head to Yuris, but

something suddenly falling from the sky drew everyone’s attention.

Evan’s eyes trembled slightly as he looked at whatever had fallen from the sky—from the duke’s mansion that had shown no reaction until now.

It was a familiar object. A golden chain with a broken sapphire in the center.

It had been around a woman’s neck, and that person was…

“…Airin.”

Evan murmured blankly. There was no strength in his voice.

What was he seeing now? A fantasy? An illusion? That would be preferable.

If this necklace on the ground was what he knew it to be…

He couldn’t think of what to say.

The flames subsided. He closed his eyes. And even when he opened them again, the scene before Evan remained unchanged.

Carefully kneeling, Evan picked up the necklace.

…It was a familiar necklace.

The necklace with traces of the magic he had inscribed, with Airin’s initials engraved on it… was before his eyes.

Laughter escaped him. Because he didn’t want to believe this situation,

didn’t want to believe that those damned black magicians had finally touched Airin.

With a whoosh, flames rising from his heart soared toward the sky like wings.

Blood seeped from his bitten lips. The hand holding the necklace turned white,

and the flames surrounding him were burning the surroundings more brilliantly than ever before.

The hot air consumed the cold air of dawn. The corpses of black magicians began to burn in the flames.

Theorad could feel that this very space was being covered in flames, making it difficult even to breathe.

“……Lord Theorad.”

The voice that came out was different. Theorad stopped his approach toward Evan.

To be considerate of him, no. He simply felt fear.

It was ridiculous that he, a Master, felt fear toward Evan, but the chill emanating from Evan’s eyes was colder than anything.

A sharp killing intent like a well-discarded blade enveloped the surroundings. The blazing flames were his anger.

The white flames didn’t disappear into the black mist. They devoured the black mist,

eventually clearing away the mist from the gate area.

Evan looked at the top of the duke’s mansion.

Faintly… he could feel Airin’s mana.

Despite being hidden by the black mist, her breathing was clearly audible to him. She was still alive.

And she was at the top of that mansion. A purple twilight flickered beneath that shadow.

Shadows writhed like monsters, and a gaze that had devoured light turned toward him. Biltaine, Duke Roman.

The moment his gaze met that presence, Evan realized. That he was calling to him.

“I need to go.”

“It’s dangerous. I understand the situation, but even so—”

“…I’m going. Even if you try to stop me, I’ll cut you down and go.”

Evan quietly raised his sword. The sword that had been emitting pure white light no longer sparkled.

The light had disappeared in the darkness enveloping the surroundings, leaving it merely white in color.

Evan quietly looked at the gate of the mansion where the darkness had cleared. Laughter kept escaping him.

He didn’t want to laugh, but he couldn’t believe this situation.

Blood seeped from his twisted lips. His mouth was in tatters from biting down so hard.

But what hurt more was his chest. His heart ached. Silence flowed through his empty chest.

He couldn’t hear anything. Not Lord Theorad shouting something at him,

nor what the Crown Prince looking at him was saying… he couldn’t hear.

He didn’t want to hear. If there was a time to stake everything, it was now.

He knew they couldn’t all enter. But he couldn’t avoid this place either.

Even if alone, he would go to Airin.

Evan’s eyes were colder than ever before.

Kaisel didn’t even dare to touch Evan.

Despite being an ally, the killing intent he emitted made his body tingle.

It was the same for Theorad, who simply looked at Evan with tightly sealed lips.

“…Evan, no matter what!”

“Your Highness. We cannot stop him now.”

Theorad blocked the one he served. He wanted to stop Evan the most, but

he couldn’t stop him now. If he tried, he might suffer great damage right here. Besides—

“The enemy isn’t just inside.”

In the distance, the statues surrounding the duke’s mansion quietly began to open their eyes.

Monsters with yellow eyes in the darkness opened their eyes, and a horrifying screech that could tear one’s ears apart swirled.

Gargoyles—realizing the name of these beings, Theorad gripped his sword again.

“…For now, we have no choice but to trust him.”

The possibility was low. No matter how he thought about it, he couldn’t imagine capturing Biltaine alone.

But they had to take the chance. At this point, when he was so close to becoming a Master, if he reached Master level…

there might be a possibility. That’s what dragon blood was.

A being that brings miracles. Recalling the story in the founding myth, Theorad quietly inhaled.

Once again, hoping for that miracle to occur, he could only extend his sword-holding hand forward.

#

Darkness enveloped his body.

Where the darkness had clawed past, wounds remained, but they began to heal slowly, covered by golden flames.

It didn’t hurt. His empty chest could no longer feel pain.

Evan cast an empty gaze into the void. The corridor, with no one, not even a candle, was quiet. Airin’s face came to mind.

The face of a woman who had cried for him to return, who had wished him well in his arms.

She was alive. That much was certain. And she was up there.

And what that meant was that they were either humiliating him… or perhaps she was needed for their plans.

Maybe they were offering him as a sacrifice.

What about Rofena, Lord Chris? Many people flashed through Evan’s mind.

What kind of escort was he? In the end, he couldn’t protect even one precious person. Again, he regretted.

If he hadn’t participated in the subjugation as she had said, if he hadn’t come out with the flimsy excuse of doing it for Airin…

“Damn it.”

It was meaningless self-reproach. This was how it had ended up.

His job now was to fix this reality that had become like this, and ultimately to save Airin.

He closed his eyes. Among the cool breeze, he smelled blood. Useless thoughts came to mind.

Still, Airin was alright. He could tell because he was connected to her.

Even if he couldn’t see her directly, he knew Airin wasn’t hurt.

…It was because of him. That fact hadn’t changed.

That’s why he had to fix it, didn’t he?

Like his brother, he had no intention of losing everyone.

This time was different. This time had to be different. Light once again rose in Evan’s eyes, which had lost their vitality.

He gripped his sword. He recalled the oath he had made when gripping the sword.

With a whoosh, blazing flames began to envelop the surroundings.

The space stained with shadows gradually began to regain its form.

Collapsed stairs, the interior of the duke’s mansion where countless people had died and become corpses, there was a man.

A man sitting alone in a spacious living room where no one would come.

It was familiar mana, and so Evan could immediately recall his name.

“Adel.”

Airin’s fiancé… Evan’s brow furrowed slightly. Not anymore.

One thing was certain: he would be hostile to Evan.

The purple eyes he had seen when they first met sparkled in the void.

And the power felt from him. Evan quietly swallowed.

Adel’s power was stronger than he had anticipated. Perhaps time might be wasted here.

While thinking this, a thin voice reached his ears.

“Isn’t it Lord Evan… my, I didn’t recognize such an esteemed guest first.”

“……”

Adel Roman no longer retained his previous appearance.

His pale skin had cheekbones tearing through flesh.

Was this why he hadn’t appeared at official events?

As Evan quietly looked at him, Adel giggled and bowed while laughing.

His sparse hair fluttered. The noble knight seen at the hunting festival was now gone.

Evan realized this fact and slowly began to erase his hesitation.

Adel laughed for a long time. Perhaps enough to run out of breath from laughing.

Coughing up something black, Adel proudly exclaimed while drawing the long sword at his waist.

His thin arms swayed in the void. Could he even be called human?

No, he was a monster. His emaciated body was strangely twisted,

and there was no longer any intelligence to be found in his eyes.

“Heh… isn’t it funny? I, the next sword of Roman! To be like this! Lord Evan, didn’t you say you would teach me a sword technique? Then why… why are you standing there like that?”

“Shut up.”

Evan quietly murmured. He had no intention of engaging in lengthy conversation.

What was important now was Airin, and he couldn’t waste time with Adel Roman.

Evan’s eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of him muttering like a madman.

A way to quickly pass through here. When his ongoing thoughts recalled something,

Evan smiled faintly and carefully placed his hand near his heart.

What Count Kasim had given him was a crystal refined from a fruit said to have been inhabited by a light spirit.

A kind of stimulant that only those with dragon blood could use,

Count Kasim had handed it to him with a worried expression and added:

-Moderate use is fine. But… if you use that power for too long, you could really die. The power of spirits is not something to be casually used.

He had replied not to worry.

If a situation arose where he needed to use it, it would surely be a situation worth risking his life for.

Evan, clutching the small crystal, brought that hand to his heart.

The pain he had felt before—was it the reaction of mana combining with the light spirit?

Radiance was added to the blazing flames. Under the brilliant light,

white flames as splendid as that light began to flutter.

His hair fluttered upward with the flames.

Light enveloping his body, and white flames. Despite coughing up blood from pain that felt like his heart was being torn apart,

Evan moved forward with his sword drawn. He felt irritated by the presence of Adel Roman muttering something.

He was in a hurry. He couldn’t waste time in a place like this.

Even at the risk of his life, he wanted to save Airin.

With a whoosh, Evan’s hand that had been clutching his chest fell away. His golden eyes turned to Adel.

“Move.”

Quietly, Evan’s hand raising his sword aimed for Adel’s neck.

“Because I have to keep my promise.”

That promise to go to your side first, wherever you are.

Evan had never uttered it frivolously.