[422] Second Headquarters (1)
Shirone headed for the 2nd Headquarters with Plu.
Clove and Gadrak acted as guides, and as they closed the distance riding the light spot, they picked up various bits of information.
"According to research, the angels' 'bending gaze' doesn't make an observer's vision wander; it drags the place it wants right in front of you, like opening a drawer and rummaging through it. So how did the rebels avoid the bending gaze?"
Gadrak's words were relayed through the drone they'd been given at headquarters.
The drones made in Heaven didn't include the languages of the lands, but items from Yamaeng had been programmed with the tongues of many border peoples.
"Hm—lock the drawer?"
Plu suggested, and Gadrak nodded.
"That's the Meka way. They scramble the landscape with a self-made magnetic field so you can't lock onto a focus."
Shirone said, "Then the other option is to make lots of drawers?"
"Correct. The 2nd Headquarters we're heading to operates as a scattered network of nodes. It's a classic concealment strategy, and that lowers the risk considerably."
Plu asked, "What kind of place is it? The 2nd Headquarters?"
"I've never been to the headquarters myself. I served in the 13th Battalion and was later attached to the 1st. Compared to the Meka, who value chain of command, the Nor prioritize individual ability. They believe the strong should be commanders."
Shirone said, "Then the commander there must be very powerful."
"That's what I've heard. A woman named Leysis—rumor has it her Spirit Force is as high as thirty-two percent."
Spirit Force is an index of affinity for jeong (the emotional/spiritual element), a mental state much closer to essence than the Spirit Zone.
Plu asked, "How impressive is thirty-two percent? If someone had a hundred percent, could they control jeong at will?"
"That'd be asking too much. It's just affinity. Thirty-two percent—how to put it—maybe a single drop of water could supply a hundred people drinking water? Typical Nor affinities are only seven or eight percent. Even a one-percent difference multiplies magical power exponentially."
Shirone formed a vague image of the 2nd Headquarters commander in his head.
"In any case, I'm for this mission. The Meka are strong against giants but weak against fairies. The Nor are strong against fairies. If we want to survive, an alliance is essential."
As they talked, Shirone's group reached the light spot.
Above a stream that sparkled like diamonds, shimmering particles of light drifted.
Gadrak waded into the stream, put his fist into the light spot, and prepared the light magic Elizer.
Plu watched the light seeping into his fist and asked, "Do we go further from here? This is already the third one."
"This is the last."
He'd been holding those words back because if they'd been ambushed on the way, information could leak.
Plu nodded and moved closer to Shirone.
It was less nerve-wracking than when a constellation of senior comrades stood guard, but now it was entirely her responsibility to protect Shirone.
She recalled what Gaold had said when they left the bunker after the negotiations with Krud the previous night.
"Plu."
"Yes, Chairman."
Gaold called Plu, glanced at Shirone, then said, "I'm worried. Other teams have veterans mixed in, but you and Shirone are different."
Plu accepted that without resistance.
Of course she knew Gaold's worry wasn't about their safety so much as the project failing.
"I know. I'll risk my life so I don't disgrace the seniors."
"If, by any chance, things go wrong—"
Gaold stopped.
To Plu, who could be likened to a machine with a broken brake, his hesitation was astonishing. The very fact he faltered felt like a reward.
She let a small smile slip and said, "Don't worry. If a life must be lost in this project, it will be mine. As a supporter, whatever happens I will make sure Shirone comes back alive."
Shirone, who'd joined the team as the Terminator, was the task force's master key—he had to survive to the end even if most teammates died.
For a mage to weigh the life of someone with such a grave role against that of the supporter was shameful.
Gaold stared at Plu for a moment, then split his mouth into a wicked grin and turned away.
"Heh heh, I'll trust you."
Those words sank deep into Plu's chest.
She stared at Gaold's broad back with a blank expression, then broke into a grin and returned a salute.
'I'd die for it. I'm on the best team.'
"Um—"
Krud, who'd been watching the two from a distance, cleared his throat and walked over. He believed that even in wartime, people should remain human, and he cautiously showed some emotion.
"If something uncomfortable happens—"
"There won't be."
Plu wiped the smile from her face as if nothing had happened and turned cold.
Shirone kicked at the small minnows in the stream and goofed around.
If this weren't a mission, he was unmistakably nineteen.
She would do her utmost to protect him.
But in actual combat, words like "doing one's best" meant little. Only completing the objective by any means mattered, and Shirone would have to steel himself for that too.
"Listen. Up to this point, you're a mage. You haven't graduated yet, so you're an unofficial mage."
Shirone looked at Plu, puzzled.
"So from now on I'll treat you like a pro. Don't be swayed by emotion—be faithful to the mission. I'm not telling you to do something unreasonable. You might not even be able to tell what's unreasonable. War's like that. If confusion arises, devote yourself only to the mission."
No one would claim not to know Shirone.
Even without a mage license, seniors from the skies would gladly give their lives to protect him.
What made it nerve-wracking was that knowing that, they could still be sent into the abyss without hesitation.
'I must live. That's the mission.'
Shirone nodded, determined.
"All right. Don't worry."
No one wants to shoulder hated tasks. If you can't do it, someone else will.
Shirone decided—no, he prayed. Whatever comes, don't let me hesitate.
"Move out."
A massive flare from the Elizer shot into the sky.
* * *
Warm light bathed the world, and the forest panorama shimmered.
When the light cleared, the valley where the stream had been had changed into the heart of a dense forest.
Plu looked around and asked, "Is this the Headquarters?"
"No. The gatekeeper will lead us in. We'll probably have to go much deeper."
It was a measure to avoid being followed. They could see how thoroughly concealed the place was.
Gadrak put a finger to his lips and whistled.
As he cast the sound spell Perri, hundreds of birds' chirps rose and scattered through the forest canopy.
After a moment, a man stepped out from behind a tree.
"Where did you come from? There was no report today."
He wore a cold expression.
Blue hair swept up; the left side of his head was shaved. The right side hung down to his shoulder, covering one eye.
Gadrak pointed at Shirone and said, "We came from the 1st Headquarters. You've heard the rumors—this boy here—"
"Oh, is that so."
The man raised a hand and cast a spell.
Forest magic Oprica.
Trees behind him trembled, then countless vines shot up with rapid growth and flew toward Shirone's party.
"Gah!"
Frightened, Clove and Gadrak lost their balance and landed on their backsides, but Shirone and Plu didn't move.
The incoming trajectories weren't aimed at them.
Anyone who kept a little composure could see that.
The vines struck the ground and rooted, then burst upward into arches from those very spots.
In an instant, Shirone's group found themselves trapped inside a prison of arcing, interwoven trees.
'This is ancient plant magic.'
From the afterimage of the duel with Bosun in Kazra, not even a certified Grade-4 mage had produced growth this fast.
That didn't mean the man was stronger than Bosun, but the advantage of ancient magic that used affinity for jeong was undeniable.
'This won't be easy.'
Shirone was bothered—groups that opened with a show of force rarely negotiated properly.
The gatekeeper cast Oprica again, drawing more branches to target them.
"Traitors to the Nor—what business do you have with us?"
Clove grabbed the prison and shouted, "What are you doing? Do you know who's here? The Light of District 73—Shirone!"
In hostile times, intelligence runs rampant. The gatekeeper also knew Shirone had returned.
"So?"
"So? Are you saying you won't fight? Don't you know how much the rebels' morale lifts when Shirone is around?"
A spear-sharp branch pierced a gap in the prison and stopped right in front of Clove's nose.
"Ugh!"
Clove recoiled and slammed his back against the opposite side of the prison.
Oprica couldn't be cast without at least ten percent affinity.
With only around seven percent, he could do nothing against the man's authority.
"What's so great about the Light of District 73? One moment you denounce the Nor, and now you ask to fight with us? We don't need the Meka's help. How can those who depend on machines face angels?"
"How would you know that?" Shirone said.
"We came to see your commander, not you. I don't think you have the right to decide the fate of the entire Nor people."
The man shifted his gaze to Shirone.
Shirone's exploits had been talked of until ears were numb, but the Nor have an absolute standard of strength and aren't easily swayed by legend alone.
If they thought felling a petty minister like Igirin would be enough, then the Light of District 73 must be either a hopeless fool or a kid drunk on his own power.
"That may be. But as gatekeeper I have authority. Whether Nephilim or the Light of District 73, in war power is what matters. Maybe the Meka are different, but if you're stuck writhing in a tree prison, Nor people won't even snort at you."
"Is that so?"
Shirone slapped his palm against the prison.
Light concentrated in his hand, and the gatekeeper flinched.
They'd heard Shirone could wield light regardless of affinity, and with it he could even destroy things.
"Hmph! Even so—!"
The gatekeeper was also a formidable ancient-magic wielder entrusted with guarding the rebels' approach. He drew in every nearby plant, twisted vines into spears, and prepared to counterattack.
But the counter never came.
The light in Shirone's hand darkened little by little, and the wooden vines began to writhe grotesquely.
A dark void.
Thick trunks contorted; the gatekeeper could only stare dumbfounded, his hand going slack.
Crack! Grind!
With sounds like bones being crushed, the hemispherical prison they'd been tangled in was ripped from the ground.
Screeeetch!
It warped toward a hole opening in space and everything began being sucked away.
Like a glutton swallowing a living creature whole, the wood writhed from the roots and was force-fed until not a trace remained.
Clove and Gadrak went pale.
Even when Shirone had shattered rock with light before, they hadn't been this shocked.
"W-what magic is that, Master?"
"..."
Gadrak couldn't have known. The gatekeeper probably didn't either.
All the Nor stared at Shirone dumbstruck.