Chapter 568 - Repetition (3)
Strong, yet endlessly trembling.
She had lost her balance.
The first impression Enette gave, once she had regained her senses, was like that of softened metal. The blade was firm, yet the hand grasping it was fragile.
Pushing herself into a corner, she gave a slight bow.
"This is the first time I formally greet you, Transcendent───one of the lords who rule the continent. I know your name, yet I think it would be discourteous to speak it lightly, so I hope you understand why I call you thus."
"Do you remember me?"
"Yes, I remember. Not only that you erased Elder Hiram, but also the entire unofficial laboratory itself, with black flame. I saw, heard, and felt everything about the experiments inflicted upon me when I was kidnapped to Bohemirn's magic tower... all of it."
Her tone was firm and resolute, like a stubborn knight. Just as he had heard.
'Fierce Valor, Enette.'
Her upright bearing, relying upon massive sword aura as her main force, was something he had already come across in knowledge. The source was Osgar, the Sage of Power.
The sheer quantity of information accumulated from the War Lords of the Arnak Empire was vast.
And yet... even her resolute spirit was not quite enough to conceal the faint tremor running through her voice.
Whether that stemmed from her resentment toward the experiments, or from some other experience, he could not tell.
'Not yet.'
So, he would come to learn it now, through mutual conversation.
Verden lowered his weight onto an empty chair.
Adrian, keeping his eyes on Enette's sword, stood guard behind his lord's back.
Verden spoke.
"Then you must know what it is I want."
At the time, Enette, bound within the magic circle, had witnessed Hiram, who had borne the brunt of Verden's 'venting', being engulfed in black flame until not even a trace remained.
Of course, she had her doubts, such as regarding "Experiment Subject 77"... but to her, they were not of importance, so she ignored them.
Grip.
Enette tightened her hold around the sword in her arms. Though the blade pressed against her skin, no blood flowed.
"...I know, my lord, that you spared my wretched life. I was taught, grace for grace, resentment for resentment. So I have no thought of repaying a life debt with mere words of thanks. Speak. If it is something I can answer, I will tell you everything."
Unyielding sincerity.
Enette declared her willingness to actively answer all questions. Similar in vein to Beldoran, yet wholly opposite in character.
'Then where to begin.'
There was no need to consider sequence. Each question pointed to the same topic.
The matter of Bohemirn's magic tower's secrets.
"Recently, I confirmed experimental subjects mentally brainwashed by Bohemirn's magic circle. What is their purpose?"
It was not a question of what unofficial experiments she herself had endured. What he wished to know was, for what purpose do they exist?
"They are...."
Enette's lips trembled faintly.
"They are a kind of magical weapon, created by Balrog Bessias, tower master of Bohemirn and omnipotent Transcendent."
***
Enette had been one of the victims subjected to biological experiments, sealed within Balrog's private laboratory, and like the other experimental subjects, she too had been targeted for mental brainwashing.
But it had failed.
For upon her, who had been excommunicated from her Transcendent Master, a grievous interdiction was laid.
The master's unique aura, which bound her beyond her flesh, permitted the engraving of Coercion upon her body.
But it completely refused any attempt to dominate her mind or interfere directly with her thoughts.
Thus the verdict was disposal.
Like Adrian, Enette was to be used until she had no value left, then neatly erased from the world.
Yet that plan had never come to fruition, thanks to Verden's intervention.
"The mental brainwashing you know of, and thought manipulation. I, along with eight other experimental subjects, were its targets. Seven succeeded, apart from me."
She drew in a deep breath.
"Their strength is not only power, but unrestricted utility. With specialized cognition, each one constantly maximizes their capabilities, carrying out given orders systematically, responding thoroughly to variables... and all without leaving the slightest trace of a link to Bohemirn's magic tower. Most of all, they can receive commands remotely, without any contact, leaving no opening."
Traceless living weapons.
By using mental brainwashing, the so-called brainwashing disease, Balrog could destroy cities, massacre citizens, abduct people, and still none could prove Bohemirn's magic tower responsible.
Just as it had been in Daunt.
"And in connection to that, there was one order I heard unconsciously..."
"What was it?"
"The destruction of the underground prison, Kernadel."
...!
The destruction of Kernadel had already spread swiftly through newspapers and other media. Verden himself had only just heard the news not long ago.
And that was only natural.
The report that a prison, supported by the Church of Luas and neighboring nations, had collapsed artificially, was hardly an everyday occurrence.
Moreover, with death-row inmates and long-term prisoners regaining freedom, the loss of life was certain to mount, making the situation gravely serious.
'So it was Balrog's doing?'
Why?
Verden folded his arms.
"What was the purpose?"
"I did not hear. Immediately afterward, I was moved to another laboratory... but apart from this, there is one existence my lord should beware of. Unlike me and the other subjects, it was specially sealed alone───"
His instincts stirred.
"You mean a Transcendent?"
"...You knew?"
"I encountered it by chance not long ago. There was even a brief battle. Not with me directly, but still."
Verden jerked his chin backward, indicating Adrian.
"In any case, despite the clash, its identity remained unknown. Apart from being a spear-wielding Transcendent, there were no clues. So let me ask, do you know who that is?"
"Yes... I do. Along with sensing a presence similar to the lords, I had once heard of that figure's outward appearance."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Jinyeon, Sandir Paen."
A name unheard of before.
Both to Verden, and to Adrian, it was utterly unfamiliar.
Enette added.
"He was a Transcendent active roughly a century ago."
***
"Sandir Paen's active period was quite short. At the time, his infamy was great, yet with so many decades passed, I was told he is little known now. Records do exist, but unless one searches deeply, one would never know, kh-cough."
Enette suddenly raised a hand to her lips, a dry cough escaping. It had simply been far too long since she had last used her voice so much.
Slide.
Adrian offered her a glass filled with cool water. With a wordless nod of gratitude, she accepted it quickly and drank.
Allowing her a moment to catch her breath, Verden continued.
"What kind of Transcendent was Sandir Paen?"
"Then, let me begin with his life... When Sandir Paen was young, during the days when slavery was rampant, he was made a slave, then sold as entertainment to the arena. That was his beginning."
The desperate struggle of slaves, thrown into the stage with the promise of freedom if they killed their fellow competitors and survived.
It was the public's amusement, and the noble's refined pastime.
Yet, an anomaly arose.
The young Sandir, picking up a crude spear, pierced through the lungs of the other slaves in the arena, annihilating them all.
With bare, uncalloused hands, without ever having awakened any aura.
"Though the arena's promise meant Sandir could have gained freedom at any time, he did not choose it. He did not seek to leave his gladiator's lot, nor avoid the battles that came. He simply killed, again and again, whenever the stage was given to him."
"Was it for the pleasure of killing?"
"No. Quite the opposite. Sandir Paen was bereft of most emotions. Common feelings were faint, and guilt was absent."
A congenital mental affliction.
"And thus, he instinctively craved the emotions he lacked. He took pleasure in killing when his fellow gladiators burned their lives in the desperate struggle to survive. When parent and child were both thrown into the arena, he slew the child first, to draw fury from the parent."
"..."
"Then, one day, Sandir suddenly massacred all the arena's handlers, and vanished. When he reappeared... he had awakened, and become a Transcendent. And he continued, in earnest, the deeds he had once committed."
Sandir wandered the continent, seeking out lives that stirred his interest, contriving reasons to make them challengers, and drawing out their truest emotions.
Until those emotions burned brightest.
And before that fire could fade, he killed them, pouring water into a bottomless jar, filling his voided craving.
Ever more, and ever more intense emotions to witness, to vicariously feel, to extinguish by his own hand.
That was the ideal carried by the Transcendent known as Sandir Paen.
At Enette's succinct, clear explanation, Verden tilted his head slightly.
"...No matter how I look at it, you seem to know far too much beyond what history records. And about a Transcendent from a hundred years ago, at that."
"That is because, the one who put an end to Sandir Paen's path, was none other than my master, no, the one who once was my master, a Transcendent."
Master.
A Transcendent said to be capable of freely wielding countless weapons existing in the world.
Yet, the title Master was not simply a reflection of power, but a natural transformation of the term, born from reverence for every aspect of character as well.
Her original epithet was Weapon Master.
She resided in her domain, 'Temple', not acting openly on a grand scale, but quietly nurturing disciples, while subtly extending her influence upon the world.
"..."
Adrian too had often heard stories of Master circulating in the world.
In the past, he had even encountered one of her disciples, and trouble had almost broken out. Though in the end, it never escalated into direct conflict.
Adrian, a commoner who had beaten down arrogant nobles and even dared to speak rudely to a king, was truly reckless.
At any rate.
'Sandir Paen. I thought it would take quite some effort to identify what kind of Transcendent he was, but this is fortunate. More than I expected.'
With this, the variable was confirmed.
It was still a massive obstacle, but knowing who it was meant he could now devise a way to counter it.
He moved on to the next question.
This one was as important as the information about Sandir Paen.
"Do you know where Balrog Bessias' private laboratory is located? Even the smallest clue will do, tell me anything."
"Hm, I've seen quite a number of hints, but with my insight, it is difficult to say. So I suggest that you look directly into my memory, my lord."
She proposed
"Very well."
Enette carefully laid her sword upon the bed, and stepped out from the corner.
Remaining seated, Verden extended his arm and gently placed his hand upon her head.
"Focus on recalling the memories related."
"Yes."
The memories Enette summoned flowed calmly, like a stream through the forest.
Enette confined within a test tube, then, with her experiment deemed a failure, being moved to the unofficial laboratory that Verden had later destroyed.
Although spatial teleportation had been used, the complex magic circle employed was one she had never before seen.
'A unique circle of Balrog's, pinpointing only the coordinates of his private laboratory. Extremely intricate. It will take some time to fully analyze and reproduce.'
Verden, with his peculiar magical insight and persistence, had spent years deeply, ever more deeply studying and devising ways to break the Transcendent's circles.
In the process, he naturally grew to be able to more easily nullify or exploit other circles as well.
Even so, Balrog Bessias' newly created circle, considered the pinnacle of magic arrays, was formidable.
Destroying its nodes by force through opening his arcane might, perhaps, but carefully analyzing and replicating it exactly would be uncertain, even with all his strength.
Still, he had no worries.
He had done this many times before.
"Well then, Enette, I do have one personal question."
"Yes?"
"Why were you excommunicated?"
Enette swallowed hard.
Her reaction seemed less like embarrassment, more like primal fear. Verden saw it in her eyes, the same inexplicable dread that Melard had sensed.
After a moment, choosing her words carefully, she slowly opened her mouth.
"...Master allows her disciples to decide their own personal creed, and empowers that will. She believes that to establish a creed, and live one's life upholding and venerating it, is both the path to becoming a Transcendent, and the truest direction for life itself."
Enette's creed had been 'spirit'.
The resolve never to yield, but to stand against any defined enemy to the end.
Indeed, she had grown stronger in heart than steel itself, and her sword's intent had become ever sharper.
"If one violates their creed, they are automatically excommunicated. The standard lies solely in what one has established. And I violated the standard I had set. As a result, the aura that had once been my strength from Master transformed into a horrific interdiction, and I was left unable to ever again wield my sword art."
It was after that she had been kidnapped by Bohemirn's magic tower.
Having lost her direction, she was a ruin of herself, unable to mount any real resistance, unable even to swing her blade properly, and so was captured.
"You don't seem weak in spirit. So what exactly did you see?"
"...The great city, Gargant."
Gargant?
At the sudden word, both Verden and Adrian sharpened their focus. Enette gripped her trembling hand tightly.
"Gargant is dangerous. More precisely, what is there is..."
"You mean Ignacia?"
"Ignacia is indeed a capricious and fearful being, yet even if I had made her my enemy and been brutally slain, I would not have laid down my sword in surrender. But this was different."
Enette's mind began to tremble, unstable, shaken.
And as her recollection of the private laboratory came to an end, the scene shifted. An image of a great city appeared, of a dark alley between tightly packed buildings, within Verden's sight.
"...A man, of towering stature, yet with a pitiful appearance."
A beggar sat in the alley.
Wrapped head to toe in rags, but his frame, wholly unlike that of any ordinary man, could not be concealed.
A white beard, spilling outward, offered a clue to his age.
"A zealot, proclaiming the faith of the Church of Luas."
───Oh, Luas.
The old man endlessly muttered the name of Luas, praying. The golden cruciform pendant at his neck jingled.
"By chance, as I walked by and saw him, for the first time...! I do not know why. Not even when I faced the unfathomable sword arts of Master did I feel it, but I felt despair."
The old man slowly turned his head.
At the instant when the shadow beneath his hood fell upon Enette's eyes───
"...!!!"
Verden's eyes flew wide, and he instantly removed his hand.
A foreign sensation trickled down his spine.
'...What is this?'
He could not understand why he had halted
It was a reflex even Verden had not perceived.
Enette's throat bobbed.
"That man, I do not know. It is certain he is something far beyond my ability to describe. There is only one thing I can say for sure."
Their eyes met.
"I tell you, my lord... my savior. Beware of Gargant."
Enette spoke firmly once more, engraving the warning upon his mind.
***
As the war with Black Hour resumed, the Magic Tower Alliance of the Western Continent was on high alert.
For no one knew when, or where, the sorcerers of death would appear.
The mages stationed at the front line trembled in fear day after day. The presence of a Transcendent directly engaging in war brought severe mental anguish upon many.
Even if one was mad with magic, the fear of being killed was hard to shake.
Yet, there were those whose battle spirit swelled all the more.
Rovellin, in charge of the fourth squad among Balrog's personal unit formed to oppose Black Hour, was one such.
But despite her heart, she could not act as she wished.
For rumors abounded, that Black Hour was targeting Balrog's disciples.
"Sigh."
Rovellin found herself virtually imprisoned in the magic tower.
The superiors claimed it was for thorough protection, and to carefully examine her magical abilities overall.
It was nothing unusual.
As a Transcendent's disciple, it was commonplace to have to prove one's achievements.
Yet, today was different.
"Rovellin, the tower master says he has something to bestow upon you."
The High Elder, Tilon Narger, summoned Rovellin to the upper floors of the tower.
Reunion, was close.