Chapter 138: To Curse Someone, You Have to Dig Two Graves

“Wait. Something feels off.”

Risir narrowed his eyes at the Asking Left Hand.

“Off?”

Jane, still awkwardly frozen with his Holy Sword aimed at it, listened seriously.

“That thing stood its ground even with a Holy Sword at its throat. Now suddenly, for no reason, it’s changing its tune? There’s gotta be another agenda.”

The Asking Left Hand.

It was a monstrosity that had driven countless into ruin.

Even the heroes had nearly perished because of it.

Risir wasn’t about to lower his guard so easily.

Felix spoke cautiously to him.

“…From where I stand, maybe it’s because of that.”

“Because of what?”

Risir glanced belatedly at his own pale flame.

“C’mon, that can’t be it. Lord Pallarg just said, didn’t he? It’s like a golem, never strays from its rules. You think it’d change its stance over a threat like this? Even a Holy Sword didn’t make it twitch. Well, not that it has eyes to twitch with. Hahaha.”

The last joke was awful enough to be punished if it came from anyone else, but the rest of his words struck home.

I’m a hero…

I’m a Holy Sword…

I’m a former Tower Master…

Risir’s remark restored their wounded pride.

—He’s right! Remember, it didn’t flinch under the Holy Sword!

“Well said, Risir. That’s no benevolent fairy; it’s a monster scattering ruin. We can’t be too cautious.”

“Then we follow Risir’s advice. Let’s hear it out, but carefully. Felix, you okay if we don’t state a demand just yet?”

“Charging in headfirst after all this? That’s not bravery, that’s stupidity. Risir’s right. It has to have some scheme.”

They all backed Risir fervently.

“Oh…”

Risir was touched.

To get such fierce trust, freely given…

Nods all around.

Unspoken trust passed between them.

With their support behind him, Risir pressed the Left Hand.

“This isn’t a demand. I’m asking you a question.”

—Speak.

“Why the sudden change of heart? Why now agree to grant our demand?”

—I don’t know what you mean. I never said such a thing.

Aha!

Feigning ignorance the instant it was cornered.

They silently cheered. Risir was right, they’d almost been duped again.

And their pride, so close to being trampled by blatant favoritism, was spared as a bonus.

They looked at Risir with even more fervent support.

Well done! Press it harder!

Nods again.

Meeting their expectations, Risir said:

“You definitely said you’d grant nothing unless we paid the price. Then suddenly you agreed to hear us out. Explain. If I don’t find your answer convincing, I’ll destroy you here and now.”

—I never said I’d grant all of your demands. I said I’d grant yours alone.

“…What?”

Is it playing with us?

Risir wasn’t about to accept a monster’s goodwill blindly.

He pressed on.

“Why mine alone? Because I was the one who fulfilled your demand?”

—No. Fulfillment only harms me. Because of you, I suffered great loss.

“Then why?”

—Because you frighten me.

The words were flat, inorganic.

Risir’s response was grim.

A golem afraid? Whether a Holy Sword destroys it, or I do, either way it’s destroyed.

He didn’t believe it. Not for a second.

It had to be trying to trick them again.

He glanced at his companions.

Surely they saw the same thing.

Indeed, their faces were firm.

Pallarg spoke.

“Risir. Did you hear?”

“Yes. Such ridicu—”

“I think we can believe it.”

“…?”

Is he… senile?

For a moment, Risir entertained the very rude thought.

“Believe it? That?”

“Yes. From the way it spoke, it clearly has both judgment and understanding. For a thing of mere golem… who knows how long it’s gathered power. It must be quite a smart relic.”

“…?”

Did we even hear the same words?

Risir looked around.

All nodding.

Faces of relief.

They seemed ready to make demands again.

“…Unbelievable.”

He stared at them like they were the strange ones.

Anyway, once things calmed, Risir broke the silence.

“Even if it yielded to us, should we really make demands so lightly? From the way it works, one reckless wish could ruin a life.”

Everyone agreed.

It was a monster of curses.

A gentle demand wouldn’t guarantee a gentle fulfillment.

“Until we understand its true nature, best not to use it. Pochena, do you know anything?”

—No.

Felix’s sword answered bluntly.

—I know almost nothing of it.

“Neither do I.”

“Same here.”

“And the texts we relied on? They’re what got us into this mess, so best not to lean on them.”

Pochena. Pallarg. Verlotta. Tilla.

One after another, the learned all admitted ignorance.

They concluded it would take much time to uncover the Left Hand’s true nature and learn how to use it properly.

—For the record.

The Left Hand itself interjected.

—I am the source of curses. Every demand and every price flows through me as a curse. For example: once, a man wished for immortality. He became a walking corpse—neither alive nor dead—for eternity. If you plan to use me, keep that in mind. Direct your malice and enmity through me.

Its explanation was almost too polite, like a chef describing a dish to a guest.

Pallarg, unsettled, asked.

“Do you always explain yourself this clearly?”

—The ruin of contractors is my power’s source. Their ruin feeds me. So I usually deceive them, to keep them from understanding.

“And this time’s an exception?”

It pointed a finger at Risir.

—So he won’t blame me later.

“…I see. Well done, Risir. Without you, we’d have wasted ages trying to grasp this monster.”

“…?”

I didn’t even do anything.

Risir awkwardly accepted their respectful gazes.

“A relic that grants wishes through curses. I suspected, but this is worse than I thought.”

Drey’s eyes gleamed with interest as he studied it.

Pallarg turned to Felix.

“You were lucky to find it. And luckier still Risir was near. Could’ve been disaster otherwise.”

“I agree. Without him, we’d have…”

Do they think I’m some emergency medicine?

Risir grumbled inwardly as Felix turned to him.

“Risir. I think this belongs to you.”

“Wow…”

From the side, Drey looked at him with envy.

The Left Hand was dangerous, but powerful.

Its value was beyond price.

“After all you’ve done, and given you can wield it safely, it’s right that you keep it.”

A fair decision, though bold.

Relinquishing such a relic wasn’t easy.

Everyone respected Felix’s judgment, congratulating Risir with their eyes.

“….”

Risir hesitated, then asked.

“By the way, what demand did you plan to make of it?”

“Ah, that…”

Felix glanced at Tilla, then continued.

“…We’re being hunted.”

“Hunted?”

“Yes.”

He lifted Pochena, the Holy Sword at his hip.

“By someone after this sword.”

Seriously? Heroes really live on hard mode.

Risir remembered the Face Thief incident, his expression saying it all as he looked to Drey and Pallarg.

Drey gave a wry smile.

“More a treasure-bearer’s fate than a hero’s weight. Relics as famed as a Holy Sword are rare.”

“Then whoever’s after it isn’t ordinary.”

Pallarg’s words made Felix nod gravely.

Holy Swords were rarely targeted.

It was not worth the cost.

Defeating a Holy Sword’s wielder wasn’t easy, and even if stolen, the sword wouldn’t accept a master it didn’t choose.

Even the Face Thief hadn’t targeted the sword, but the hero themselves.

So… worse than a Face Thief?

Risir listened more seriously.

“Yes. We don’t know who, but someone’s using a mysterious power to track us.”

“Mysterious power?”

Pallarg asked again.

“Our shaman ally said, someone is stealing glimpses of our fate.”

“…Stealing fate?”

“Yes. Using that to track our movements. Thanks to the shaman’s countermeasures, they’ve been delayed, but he warned their power’s too great to escape forever.”

Felix glanced at the Left Hand.

“So we planned to use it to block the pursuit. But I didn’t expect this outcome.”

“Hm… May I take a look myself?”

Pallarg’s offer made Felix’s eyes widen.

Help from an Archmage.

“Please.”

Pallarg stretched out his hand.

Frosty mist coiled from his fingertips around Felix.

“…You’re right. A strange aura clings to you.”

Pallarg’s face darkened.

“What an unfair power. I can’t remove it. I can’t even discern its nature or source.”

Shock rippled through the group.

Felix’s companions grew visibly gloomier.

If even the former Tower Master of Blue Tower couldn’t help, where could they turn?

Then Risir stepped up, holding out his arm.

“Lord Pallarg, is it still there?”

“…Yes.”

“Ah. Too bad, it’s not black magic, then.”

Too bad?

Felix’s eyes wavered.

Does Risir… hold a grudge against me?

But Risir only looked away, toward the Left Hand.

“Then why not try this?”

He raised a finger toward it.

Offering to use the relic’s power for others, without hesitation.

A gesture worthy of respect, though their reactions were uneasy.

“Risir… good idea, but isn’t it too dangerous?”

Jane gave a bitter smile.

Elysia added.

—Risir. You heard it say, didn’t you? Its power is curses. If you try to remove Felix’s aura with it, who knows what might happen.

“That’s not what I mean.”

—What?

“I mean, let’s use it to curse the one pursuing them.”

“….”

Both hero parties.

Both Holy Swords.

All their companions.

They could hardly believe their ears.

That the wielder of a Holy Sword would propose using such a monster to curse someone.

Unthinkable for noble heroes.

“A curse…?”

Felix faltered.

—Felix…

Pochena warned him softly.

If a hero’s pure aura were tainted, it’d be a disaster.

And to wield curses at all would stain the honor of being a hero.

Practicality, or pride.

It tested him.

“….”

—Jane, you’re not considering this, are you!?

Elysia reacted much the same.

“….”

Risir studied the two heroes, then said.

“Don’t worry. I’m the only one it listens to.”

He stepped closer to the Left Hand.

“Risir!?”

“Wait!”

Felix and Jane cried out.

—No, Risir…!

—Zarak, aren’t you going to stop him!?

Even the swords panicked.

—Risir! You can’t! To wield such vile power, I could never acknowledge you as my master!!!

“Oh? Then I guess you’ll need a new one. Luckily, two fine heroes stand right here.”

—…On second thought, maybe it doesn’t matter. What counts is a heart willing to protect others!

The other swords were shocked.

—Zarak, you…

—Are you serious…?

Zarak looked away, avoiding their gaze.

Somehow, even if they were all still in their sword form.

“See? It’s all in how you use it.”

With the Holy Sword’s approval, Risir made sure first.

“Felix. You’re certain this pursuer is your enemy?”

“I’m certain.”

The malice was unmistakable.

Risir spoke to the Left Hand.

“I demand.”

—Speak.

“If I ask you to erase the aura clinging to Felix’s party, what will you do?”

—I will curse the aura’s owner.

“And the curse won’t rebound on us?”

—Correct.

Risir nodded, satisfied.

“Alright. Then…”

—I shall enact it.

Crack. Crack.

The Left Hand writhed, power swirling around it.

“Everyone, back!”

Pallarg shouted, and they retreated quickly.

Even knowing it wasn’t aimed at them, the aura was too dreadful.

Then the energy sank back into the Left Hand.

Crack. Crack.

It stilled.

—It is done.

“….”

Pallarg studied Felix closely.

Risir asked.

“Lord Pallarg? Has the aura vanished?”

“…No. Only weakened. It’s still there.”

“…So the pursuer resisted the curse?”

They gasped.

Even diminished, the Left Hand’s power was overwhelming.

And yet the enemy had endured.

—My god… If even that doesn’t work, what can we do?

Elysia spoke for them all, pale with shock.

Then—

“I demand.”

Risir spoke again.

“Hah… hah…”

A woman’s body trembled like a leaf, breath ragged as if she might collapse.

“You alright?”

Her rough-voiced companion asked.

She grit her teeth, ruled by tangled emotions, chief among them, fury.

Yet it was quickly covered by another.

“…I’ll live. Compared to the one who did this.”

“What do you mean?”

“To use curses like this… multiple times, no less…”

Her lips twisted into a venomous smile.

“He’ll be paying the price. Dying right now, in a way too horrible to imagine.”

“Lord Pallarg. How is it?”

“…Still there! Weakened further, but…!”

“Then— I demand.”

—Stop! The price first!

“I demand.”

—At this rate, my power—!

“It’s fine. No need to hold back when it’s for a good cause.”

…Was this right?

They found themselves pitying the monster that had once sought to ruin them.