[158] Clay Marsha (2)
The moment Amy shouted, Tess's short sword pierced Palcoa's heart. Then Rian's eyes went wide and blood burst from his mouth.
There was no mistake in Tess's swordwork. The short sword had cleanly gone through Palcoa's heart; his bodily functions would soon stop.
Palcoa sensed his death. He wasn't particularly afraid. Maybe death was the closest thing to a pleasure-inducing drug in this world.
"Marsha."
Surprisingly, the last word from Palcoa's lips was the captain's name. As if watching a life-flash, the corner of his mouth twitched into a faint smile.
'Take me back to the battlefield.'
When Tess pulled the short sword out, Palcoa's body toppled backward. With a thud he hit the ground, and Rian, unable to bear the pain, sank to his knees.
"Rian! Are you okay?"
Amy rushed over in a panic. Rian forced a smile as he turned to her.
"Hey, Amy. Did you finish him off?"
"Tell me. Where are you hurt? Tess! How could you two stab him at the same time?"
Amy snapped at Tess, sounding hurt. Tess was merely wiping blood from the short sword. Then she suddenly smiled and winked.
"Haha, what are you talking about? Who do you think I am? I'm actually good at judging distance. I only stabbed Palcoa's torso. Rian's fine."
Amy stared at Tess in disbelief.
"Um… there's blood coming from Rian's chest?"
"What!"
Tess's eyes went wide as she checked Rian. As Amy had said, a thin trickle of blood was seeping out.
"Rian! Rian! Are you okay? Snap out of it!"
Tess buzzed in his ear, face pale. Rian, who had briefly lost consciousness, waved his hand irritably and pushed himself up.
"Don't make such a fuss. I just stabbed him a little and came in."
"I'm sorry, Rian. It's my fault I'm not skilled—"
"Don't say that. If you'd been only a little shallower, Palcoa wouldn't have fallen. Both of us would have been in danger. Your call was the right one."
Rian truly believed that. Even worried for a friend's safety, he'd rather a wound be deep than insufficient. That was why Tess had been able to concentrate fully.
"Ha! This kind of wound is nothing. Let's go. Shirone will be worried."
Even amid the fight, strange noises and explosions had come from inside the building. They were clearly fighting the captain. Whatever was happening inside was probably more dangerous than Palcoa's fight.
At that moment the building's wall exploded outward and Shirone was thrown out.
"Shirone!"
At the last instant before he would have smashed into the ground, Shirone teleported ten meters back. As his photonized state ended and he took a landing posture, he skidded along the earth.
"Shirone, are you all right?"
"Don't come closer!"
Shirone shouted urgently. His friends froze as if nailed to the spot—Shirone, usually so calm, was unusually agitated.
"It's not over yet. It's sound magic—if you get close it's dangerous."
Marsha's sonic magic could switch freely between focused strikes and wide-area attacks. The three of them, exhausted from combat, would surely be swept up by a powerful sound spell if they approached.
"Not bad. To last this long against me—you've done well."
Marsha stepped out of the building, bowing slightly as she approached with a smile. But her smile faded when she saw Palcoa's body.
Palcoa was dead.
He'd been a twisted man, but among those living on the edge he had been wildly entertaining. The name Angmu, famous across the continent, carried a good measure of his blood and deeds.
'You won't have regrets, Palcoa.'
Marsha could tell without looking. He'd likely prefer dying in a blade fight to wasting away from drugs.
But that sentiment ended there.
Being taken down by a student was a bit of a surprise, but given Palcoa's body—worn down by five years of addiction—the result wasn't that strange.
Marsha refocused on Shirone. She'd guessed some things when they broke the first checkpoint, but facing him directly confirmed how balanced his magic set was.
His teleportation was top tier, and the power of his core attack—the Photon Cannon—was impressive.
The laser suited siege work, and although the defensive magic, photonization, required timing, it had the advantage of being convertible into offense when needed.
A single mage, after long thought and evolution, had tuned this balance.
Most of all, Marsha liked that it was a unique magic only Shirone could use—something no other mage could learn.
'An Unlocker's magic. Interesting. I want it.'
While Marsha thought that, Shirone analyzed the variables of being out in the open.
They'd suffered many penalties inside the building, so this was comparatively neutral ground. Above all, with no hostage risk he could unleash more power.
"From here on it's different. I will never forgive you."
"Haha, Shirone, you'll forgive me."
"On what basis? What you did crossed human decency."
"Well, actually—"
Marsha stuck out her tongue like a mischievous child and shouted,
"It was all a lie~!"
Shirone's group looked stunned, unable to parse her words. Marsha then called into the building.
"Yuna! You can come out now!"
Her amplified voice rolled toward the sea.
A moment later the building's door opened and a pretty girl walked out.
"No way—Is that Yuna?"
"Yep. That's Yuna. As you see, she's been safe and comfortable here. So, Shirone? Happy now?"
Shirone couldn't reply. Even with his keen insight he couldn't guess what Marsha was up to.
"Oh my, still don't get it? If your sister's going to be mad because I teased her little brother, what kind of sister is that? Everything I said was a lie. So forgive me, okay?"
Yuna bowed toward Shirone's party.
"My sister did nothing wrong. Actually, Marsha saved me."
Rian spoke, exasperated.
"What's going on? Someone answer me instead of standing there like idiots."
But neither Amy nor Tess said anything.
It was outright mockery. That much was clear. The problem was motive. Why had Marsha done this?
That was what Shirone wondered.
This wasn't something you could dismiss as a prank. The Angmu mercenary band had been smashed. Palcoa was dead. It was impossible to accept that all of that had been a lie.
"If that's true… send Yuna over here."
Rescuing Gis's sister came first. But Marsha shook her head with a teasing smile.
"Yuna, go back inside. I'll send you to your brother later."
Yuna nodded and went back into the building.
Shirone flared. What on earth did Marsha intend to do with this?
There was no discernible purpose or meaning. It only looked like a child's urge to cause trouble for the sake of it.
"What is this? What do you want?"
"Haha, why? Yuna's safe, isn't she? Isn't that enough? Oh—did you want to take her yourself like some crusader of justice?"
"That's not it, but—"
"See? Your sister did nothing wrong. You're the bad one, Shirone. You made me feel sick. So I'll never hand Yuna over to you."
Shirone entered the Spirit Zone. An offensive Zone, as sharp as Marsha's blade, had already aimed itself at his brow.
"Hmph! I won't fall for that."
He shouted boldly, but inside he was in turmoil. Marsha had removed his motive to fight, yet still radiated murderous hostility.
'Calm down. She's sending hostility my way. That's reason enough to fight.'
If her tactic was deception, he couldn't just accept it. Besides, with the hostage safe, if the fight began he wouldn't be at a disadvantage like inside the building.
But contrary to his expectations, Marsha released the Spirit Zone. Then, as if disarming, she spread both arms and said to Shirone,
"You may kill me."
Shirone's heart dropped. He knew exactly what those words meant.
It was the spell she said she used to recite whenever her stepfather beat her.
That was why Marsha was sincere. She truly was asking him to kill her.
'What the hell are you, Marsha? Who are you?'
* * *
Magic Association interrogation room.
Sakiri, a certified fifth-rank mage and investigator, wiped the sweat from her brow. Her sleeves were rolled to her elbows and more than half the buttons on her shirt were undone.
She looked exhausted. Yet the forearm gripping the iron club bulged with undiminished strength.
"Phew. Rested enough. Let's start again."
"Ughhh…"
Lucas moaned on the floor.
He'd been the deputy leader of the Angmu thieves who raided the Magic Association following Arkein. But Shiina's freezing magic—Absolute Zero—had severed both his legs.
He had no idea how many hours he'd been beaten.
If he hadn't protected himself with skima, he would have been dead long ago.
"Here I come. Grit your teeth."
Sakiri swung the iron club again. Under the onslaught, Lucas crawled on his stomach with his arms until he collapsed from exhaustion.
"Aaaah! Please stop! At least ask something before you hit me! I said I'd tell you everything!"
"Wait. Don't you have to reach a hundred blows?"
"You crazy—!"
Sakiri counted silently. Five left. Now four. Three.
At last she drove the final strike into his flank and, satisfied, tossed the club aside.
It clattered and rolled across the floor.
"Phew, that felt good. Workout's done for today."
"Ughh… why are you doing this…"
Lucas clutched his sore belly and wept.
He'd risen from recruit to deputy leader of the Angmu mercenary band-turned-thief gang on the strength of his skill. He hadn't been cowed even when facing Arkein—the sort of villain who intimidated most.
But in front of Sakiri he was like a piece of gum stuck to the floor.
Sakiri grabbed Lucas by the hair and hurled him toward a chair.
He landed roughly and clung to the chair as Sakiri sat on the opposite side of the desk and spoke.
"Sit up. Before I cut off the other arm."
Lucas hauled himself up on his arms and barely sat. Sakiri then studied the file of reports the investigators had compiled in silence for a long while.
"Investigator, send him back to prison. He'll tell us where Marsha is."
"No need. Do you think a woman like that would still be there? Do you think she'd stay put?"
"Damn it! Then why did you beat me up?"
Sakiri slammed her fist down on the desk, flipping the file's last page in frustration.
"Do you know the criminal I hate most? A murderer? A family-destroyer? No—an escapee. Do you think the state is that lax? Even if they have guts, a B-rank criminal isn't going to escape. Your life is over. You'll never see the sun again."
Lucas swallowed. Sakiri's words were not a threat but a statement of fact.
Her tendency to say she'd give a hundred blows—and then do it—made that clear.
"In any case, let's begin. It's better if you cooperate. My daughter's four. She's at the age where she shows off for her dad. I haven't been home for days! Let someone who's alive live a little, understood?"
"What do you want me to tell you?"
"Forget everything else. Tell me everything you know about a woman called Marsha."
That was all Sakiri wanted.
Clay Marsha. A political criminal—an A-rank offender who hadn't caused major public disturbances, which made her difficult to catch.
The biggest problem was that the intelligence was inconsistent. Sometimes she was called a fire mage, other times a frost mage.
That suggested an extremely cautious, meticulous operator. Even with investigators deployed to the fullest, her movements couldn't be pinned down.
So Sakiri had summoned Lucas. From the start she suspected the operation had been flawed.
What they really needed to know wasn't where Marsha was, but who Marsha was.