[415] The Second Purgatory (2)
Shirone and his group headed toward the mainland.
Riding Julu's summon would have been faster, but since they didn't know the state of conflict in Purgatory, it wasn't a good option.
Heaven's skies were full of angels, mara, and drones, so they wanted to avoid being detected beyond Etella's Spirit Zone radius.
But contrary to their expectations, the Forest of the Profane was unnervingly quiet.
They had pictured angels patrolling the sky, hunting heretics and rebels, so this was unexpected.
Kangnan asked, "How do we read this? An unexpected change? Or proof the rebels were annihilated?"
"Either's possible." Sein's answer made Plu tilt her head.
"Could the forest be silent even if the rebels weren't wiped out?"
"Not logically. But if you think that way, then Miro's disappearance is the same—anything can happen. For now, assume both possibilities."
Sein felt again the same dissonance he had felt in Miro's space-time.
No—rather, the fact that even Purgatory's situation differed from expectation only deepened his unease.
This had been something he'd planned and held his breath for twenty years. Why was it going so wrong?
Could he trust his instincts now? Maybe it was coincidence. Anyone could check results and then fit causes to them.
Sein made a simple decision: don't overthink it. Calculate for both outcomes. I can do that.
"Someone's here." Etella stopped and looked to the right.
Of course she hadn't sensed it nearby. Various feeds were coming in from a Spirit Zone with a two-kilometer radius.
About twenty people were moving with mobility beyond the normal range.
Sounds of armaments colliding and explosions came through the synesthetic feed.
"They're in combat. Roughly eight hundred meters." Plu glanced at Gaold and asked, "Shall we confirm?"
She meant permission to increase their movement. Since the forest's state differed from expectation, staying hidden was an option, but Gaold chose the direct approach.
"Confirm."
The order given, the whole team flashed and vanished.
Julu took care of transporting Kuan and Kangnan, and since everyone except Shirone was a pro, cutting through the dense woods posed no problem.
Shirone had also mastered movement control at the master level back in his graduating class, but rank made a difference.
Especially the lead four—Gaold, Sein, Julu, and Armin—their movement ghosted through complex terrain like aircraft evading obstacles.
How much training did it take to move like that?
When they arrived, the earlier silence was gone; loud noises filled the forest.
"Chase them! Rip out their hearts!"
"Kyaaaaah!"
Kergor warriors in black armor screamed and pursued the Meka.
Running as one with their mounts, their movement was like a gale, but the Meka weren't easy prey.
What was that?
The Meka's mobility came from mechanical devices attached to their bodies, linked to gaunt skeletal frames.
The frame crossed the shoulder line behind the back, connected to the arms, ran down along the spine from the neck, and spread into the legs.
As it synced with the wearer's motions, joints clicked and whirred, and every time they struck the ground their leaps extended five or six meters.
"A strength-assist device called Piper. Meka combat troopers, then."
The Meka tore through the forest as if springs were under their soles.
But the Kergor were excellent hunters too.
Having unknowingly driven the Meka into an encirclement, one Kergor sprang from the undergrowth and swung his sword like an ambush.
"Hngh!" A Meka trooper thrust out an Exd. A holographic shield unfolded and produced a shockwave, but the schema's brute force had the edge—the trooper staggered and collapsed.
The Meka soldiers gathered around their fallen comrade and looked about.
Kergor had already sealed off their retreat and were appearing from all sides.
The Meka squad leader, a short-haired woman, brought a wrist-mounted drone to her mouth and whispered, "This is Recon Team Two. We're surrounded by Kergor. Requesting support."
There was no response.
But given the nature of radio waves, they couldn't rule out that the call hadn't gone through.
Please, please…
Twenty meters away, Shirone's party watched the scene.
Although the Kergor prided themselves on superb pursuit, they couldn't do much against Sein's Equilibrium.
Sein's Equilibrium ground even their breaths into silence; with their senses neutered, they were useless.
Kangnan looked at Gaold. "Where do we go? Kergor or Meka?"
It was the first branching point since they arrived in Heaven.
The inhabitants were split into Kergor, Meka, and Nor—each with different combat styles, cultures, and mindsets.
Which people they started with would change the whole path to Miro, so they had to choose carefully.
A rustle. A Kergor warrior patrolling the edge of the formation appeared.
He froze, eyes wide as if his heart had stopped.
It was natural—ten people had suddenly materialized in a place where even the sensory schema had registered nothing.
He snapped his head toward his comrades and puffed his chest, shouting, "He—"
Gaold's hand lashed out. With a sickening smack, the Kergor's face flew off.
Shirone and Plu stared at the faceless, trembling body, then collected themselves.
If suppressing emotion, making rational judgments, and acting were normal human responses, Gaold's move had been purely mechanical.
"If, in any situation, you judge someone must be killed, kill them. I'll deal with the aftermath. Even if it was the wrong call, nothing is worse than losing a teammate."
It was Gaold's license to kill.
Necessary, even ruthless, for team survival—and something only a person who could press any situation down with force could say.
It was nearly the only reason he'd been chosen commander.
Kangnan glanced at Gaold. "Given that, do we choose the Meka?"
To humans, some values are weightier than another's life, but the Kergor were an organization bound by divine law.
They'd already killed one; the barrier to compromise with them was higher than with the Meka.
"For Anke Ra!" Gaold's eyes twitched unpleasantly.
"We go to the Meka." The words dropped, and Kuan shot forward. A hitman was perfect for this kind of work.
"Squad leader! If we keep this up we'll be annihilated!" The Meka were barely holding on.
Piper adjusted their strength, but its effect was limited to major muscle groups; beating Kergor whose whole bodies were weapons in close quarters was almost impossible.
"Retreat! I'll hold this position!" The squad leader threw herself into the fray.
She knew what happened to those captured for heresy hunting, but they had to buy time to hope for reinforcements.
"Cut that woman's limbs off and bring back only the torso!" The words made teeth chatter.
They wanted to run, but Kergor warriors had leapt above the woman and were swinging short blades to sever her arms.
Whiiing!
A powerful sliced wind rose and a faint afterimage brushed a Kergor's side.
"What—!" The woman's eyes shook.
The Kergor warriors' faces were coming off their bodies as if corks being pulled.
Seven left. Spinning in midair, Kuan located the remaining enemies.
No one knew he'd killed six with a single slash, nor that there had been a dozen tiny adjustments in that cut's flow.
"They're attackers! Kill them!" Only after losing half their force did the Kergor notice the assailant and strike out.
Kuan's body was bound to strands of external gravity stretching three directions as he continued his odd movement.
Oscillating like a pendulum and then snapping outward, blood sprayed from the four bodies he passed.
Three forward. Another warrior's neck was cut.
Two. The enraged Kergor captain's eyes widened.
They used external gravity too, but only as an auxiliary means to cut enemies. They'd never seen movement like Kuan's—so strange it felt like mockery.
"Do not insult Kergor techniques!" the captain bellowed, swinging his glaive. Kuan's path bent as if like poles of a magnet repelled and flew past the captain.
"Ha! Caught you!" The basic Kergor trap. A mane-haired warrior hidden in ambush swung down at the flying Kuan.
"Huh?"
There was no feeling of contact.
Looking up, Kuan—who should have been within the sword's arc—hung motionless in midair.
He glared irritably at the mane-haired warrior, then slowly shifted his gaze aside.
His body spun like a top and, as if a skein were winding, was pulled toward the captain.
"Captain! Behind you!" Before the captain could react, Kuan's blade took his neck.
As the external gravity vanished and he landed, he spun and threw his sword.
The blade flew faster than an arrow and impaled the falling mane-haired warrior through the chest, lodging in a tree.
When the Kergor were annihilated, the forest fell silent.
It had been a dazzling fight, but it lasted barely five seconds.
Only then did Shirone and his group enter the scene.
They were inwardly impressed by Kuan's rumored skill, but his face was twisted in irritation.
Damn it. What a piece of trash I've become. In the past he'd have cut them all down in a single breath of external gravity. Now only one remained, and the final finish had been an improvised thrown blade.
"Kuan, are you okay? Are you injured…?" Shiina approached. Kuan hastily wiped his expression; he wanted no one's pity.
"Sorry. My balance isn't perfect yet."
Shiina tilted her head. What Kuan had done wrong was something she, a mage, couldn't know.
After a moment's thought, she said what she'd prepared. "That was incredible. I haven't seen much swordsman technique, but this broadened my perspective."
To Kuan it was an embarrassing compliment.
He gave a bitter smile and passed by; Shiina looked back. Did I say something wrong?
Meanwhile, the Meka gripped their weapons tensely as Gaold approached.
Their lives had been saved by the newcomers' arrival, but in Purgatory it was still hard to tell friend from foe.
Above all, if a single swordsman had annihilated the Kergor unit, they were clearly outmatched.
"Who are you? Heretics?" Gaold looked to Sein.
Some on the team knew Heaven's language, but more than half needed translation.
Sein's mental-plane magic finally made the woman's words understandable, and Gaold took another step.
At the same moment the Meka flinched back. The Piper units on their bodies clicked; their joint actuators tightened as the mechanism adjusted to the shorter stride.