[747] Age of Upheaval (3)
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The Kingdom of Tormia.
A month had passed since the Great Purification began.
A state of emergency had already been declared nationwide, and in Creas city even nobles couldn't enter the aristocratic quarter without a pass.
The demons that had appeared when the Spirit Zone expanded had been nearly annihilated.
But small remnants — things like agwi — still lurked in shadowed places, preying on women.
"Those agwi are getting unbearable."
Mages from the Magic Association's Creas branch and royal special investigators patrolled the lanes.
"They don't eat flesh. They eat the act of eating. If there's something in front of them, they'll cram it into their mouths even if their bellies burst."
The noblewoman's body found three days earlier had been hideously mutilated.
"Stronger beings absorb weaker ones. In other words, the act of eating is proof of superiority."
Humans eat almost anything.
"A heavy star swallows a light star. The problem is that the living world runs on pleasure. That's probably why the agwi dismember corpses."
Nations around the world had already cataloged the demons' numbers, combat capabilities, and persons of interest.
The investigator's cold analysis was part of that, but the accompanying mage set his teeth.
"Humans aren't so different, you know."
The investigator gave a faint smile.
"Surprisingly sentimental. I heard mages were cold."
"Well…seeing the world like this, I think keeping a cool head isn't always the answer."
Everything humanity had built was collapsing.
A sudden thought — maybe the answer lay in the heart — flashed through his mind.
"Of course, we know demons are an aspect of humans. They say they're a Law born from powerful desire. But demons are still demons. Most humans don't go around raping passing women or stealing from those who already have."
The investigator added in a low voice.
"...though who knows what they're thinking inside."
Why do demons exist?
As he turned the corner with that thought, the mage suddenly stopped and raised an arm.
"Hold."
The mages behind immediately formed their Spirit Zone, and the investigator narrowed his eyes and stepped back.
"Who are you? Identify yourself."
There was no answer from the figure approaching out of the dark, but the heavy footsteps alone carried an oppressive weight.
"Shining."
When the mages chanted in unison, the gloom brightened and a blood-smeared swordsman stepped into view.
"My goodness…"
From the congealed blood it looked like he hadn't washed in at least a week, but his eyes were chillingly bright—eerily newborn.
Rian, who had crossed the Akard Desert to reach Creas, frowned.
Clots of dried blood fell away with a dull patter.
"What are you lot?"
The capital and major strongholds had prepared for altars, but altars set out on deserts wider than many kingdoms had drawn countless demons.
He had swept them all away and was on his way home; Rian's mind was razor-sharp enough to cut.
"Demons?"
The investigator sounded deadly serious; the mage's hostility flared as he spoke.
"We're mages from the Magic Association, Creas branch. On territorial patrol. No one gets through without a pass."
"Territorial patrol?"
Rian lifted his head and stared at the stars.
"Tough work. I'm Ozent Rian. I'm on my way home — mind stepping aside?"
"O-Ozent Rian?"
The Ozent house was well known in Creas.
But the mage's surprise wasn't for the family name so much as the name Rian.
"Knight of Maha. Are you really Shirone's sword?"
Few knew Shirone's face, but the world knew Shirone, the five-star resident of the Ivory Tower, and the name of his sword: Rian.
Tired and unwilling to answer, Rian took a slow step forward. The mages raised their implements.
"Stop! You can't pass without identification."
"If I'm Rian, there's no such thing. Come to the main house and the family will vouch for me."
It sounded reasonable, but most impostors used the same line—hence the passes.
"Then wait here. We'll go to the Ozent main house to verify. The situation's bad—demons and all."
Rian walked unhesitatingly into the Spirit Zone five mages held together.
"I killed thousands of demons crossing the desert."
The desert tribes had been wiped out by the demon onslaught; their ends were too horrible to speak of.
"But after cutting and cutting, I started to find humans more repulsive than demons."
The closer he came, the faster the mage's heart hammered.
"I don't want to waste time."
'I can't win.'
If anyone tried anything, their neck would be cut before they could move.
"So please be quick."
The mages' tension vanished as if by enchantment.
The young man with a greatsword strapped to his back, who simply tilted his head up to the sky, had never seemed to radiate any murderous intent at all.
'I was mistaken. He probably never intended to fight us...'
They had been intimidated beforehand by how overwhelmingly strong he was.
"Step aside."
On the mage's command, his subordinates opened a path and the investigator made a low sound and leaned against the wall.
"Thank you for fighting for humans."
The mage bowed politely; Rian nodded and passed between them.
'Is home safe?'
The blood had been wiped off, but the walls were mercilessly scored with claw marks from the agwi, and the sight weighed on him.
"Rian! You're safe!"
Guided by steward Temuran, Rian returned to the main house and Reina came running out barefoot.
The scent of blood clung to him; since it wasn't hers, Reina breathed out in relief.
"I thought something had happened to you! So careless. Not a single letter—what's that about?"
Rian was the one puzzled.
"Why are you at the main house?"
Even aside from fighting, she had mountains of duties as a court musician.
"I brought her here."
Ozent Klump descended the stairs.
"Grandfather."
"What happened? I heard Shirone passed the Ivory Tower test…"
Reina cut him off.
"Go wash first. I'll have dinner ready soon. Head steward, use the remaining ingredients—get something out quick."
"As you wish."
Head steward Louis bowed, his right forearm bandaged where it had been severed below the elbow.
A demon had done that damage.
Rian showed little emotion as he asked Klump, "What about eldest brother?"
The Ozent house's eldest son, Ozent Gai, had passed the official exam early and taken a key post in Tormia's government, but his zealous patriotism had turned him into a spy.
"I don't know. He's been out of contact for three years. Either still operating abroad or he's dead."
Gai was a painful name in the Ozent family.
"I see…"
Klump, who had been watching Rian as he headed for the bath, asked, "Do you plan to wander the world again? Into this hell?"
"Yes."
The grandfather felt proud, but he also wished Rian would stay in Tormia and watch over his sister.
"You two were inseparable. You weren't always like this, were you?"
"...That's why I left."
Rian didn't know exactly what 'attainment' meant, but he understood he couldn't bear Shirone's suffering for him.
"If I stay close, it'll only make things harder. I'll find a way to help Shirone in my own way."
Klump realized he couldn't stop his grandson.
"Come to the training ground."
Rian and Reina turned, puzzled, but Klump strode out of the mansion with his broad back.
Rian's private training ground.
With Reina watching anxiously, Rian and Klump faced each other ten meters apart.
'It's been a while.'
The place where Swordmaster Kite had beaten him within an inch of his life and forced him to run a hundred laps every day.
The place where he'd lost a real duel to Shirone—the man who had since become his reason to live.
'Why would grandfather choose this spot...'
It was probably to make his grandson take one last look back before hurling himself toward an irreversible future.
"Ready?"
Klump exhaled a fighting aura.
"Yes."
Rian had faced countless swordsmen while serving as a squire, but this was his first time against a publicly certified Level-3 swordsman.
In military terms, that was a divisional commander; above him were only two corps commanders and a supreme commander.
"Why do the men of this house duel all the time?"
Reina, long used to it, still couldn't stand still this time.
'Grandfather means it.'
Even in the dim torchlight, Klump's heat-haze of fighting intent seemed visible.
"You've crossed many battlelines too. For your grandson's sake, I'll do my best to kill you."
Rian's expression didn't change; he assumed a stance so slow it could put watchers to sleep.
"..."
Klump, staring like a tiger, suddenly lowered his sword and reached out his hand.
"Hand it over."
"Hand over what?"
"The . It was mine originally; we'll fight with it."
Rian narrowed his stride and replied in disbelief, "Why is that grandpa's sword? You gave it to me—so it's mine."
"But we're fighting now, aren't we? Then of course I should use it. Why should you?"
"Seriously, just grab any old sword! You're a general and you want to take your grandson's weapon?"
"Nope, I'm not doing it! I won't! If you don't give it back I absolutely won't fight!"
Not only Reina, but Louis and Temuran standing nearby gaped.
"Don't be ridiculous. You dragged someone out tired and are making nonsense demands."
Rian sheathed his sword and walked toward the mansion's entrance. Klump's gaze softened.
"You've grown, Rian. Really grown."
A man who won't cling to victory even before a general is someone who's already free of the cycle of winning and losing.
"Those who know what they have don't covet what others hold."
"Save the lofty words. As long as everyone's safe, that's fine. We'll eat and leave right after."
Reina was taken aback.
"Tonight? Without sleeping?"
"I'll sleep on the carriage. Leaving now won't change the world immediately, but…"
It was the secret of time Shirone had taught him.
"The enemies don't rest either. In a race where everyone runs the same time, not a single minute is small."
When Rian slept, enemies slept; when he fought, enemies fought. Whoever saved a minute gained the advantage.
'Shirone.'
Rumor had it Shirone still wandered the world without rest, dismantling Spirit Zones even now.
'He's probably saving one unrelated person.'
He couldn't stay at Shirone's side, but this was the only way he could lighten his burden.
'You really never change.'
No one could know how heavy the load on Rian's shoulders had become as he walked back into the house.
'Just a few years ago he was still a child I fed.'
The youngest sibling—no talent, thick-skinned, and willful.
'But there was one thing he had.'
Even if a man called "the Buddha" tried to annihilate the world, Rian would never give up until the very end.
"Go, my brother."
Reina watched her brother's back as he walked off into the distance and held out her palm.