Rain (4)
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When the magnetic shield sent from the Ark fell away, the Jincheon army finally advanced on Gustav's capital.
The army had no words, and there was nothing to say.
"So this is it."
Where the world had been flattened by particles of light, there was no trace of demonic influence left.
A crushing, absolute victory.
"What are we even—!" Victory over what, exactly?
A phenomenon that transcended human physics and arithmetic left them only helplessness.
"All the soldiers we fought! The innocent people of Jincheon who died! We—"
There was no one left to blame.
"What are we even living for?"
If one man's rage was enough to end the world, what were the survivors supposed to feel?
Yahweh's fury erased the Gustav Empire from the map, leaving the world hollow and stunned.
"Commander! The storm is getting worse!"
A storm of Category Six strength had risen over the continent, but there was nothing left for it to tear apart.
Clack! Tat-tat-tat!
Far beneath the ground, Shirone—still asleep—heard the sound of rain bleeding through into his dream.
"Ugh!"
Though his memory failed him, his body knew: Sojeonghwa's droplets of light had destroyed the world.
"You okay?"
Rian's voice came from the darkness.
"Where am I?"
Shirone asked without bothering to locate himself. A torch flared to life on his right.
In a space of over thirty pyeong that Rian had clearly dug out, dozens of people sat huddled.
Their faces, watching Shirone, mixed fear with reproach.
Gustav had been a place protected by demons; now even their homes were gone.
Rian looked up at the ceiling. "A typhoon's blowing. Let's stay here for a while."
He said the wind was unlike anything he'd seen before, but since nothing had been built on the surface, it should pass soon.
"I want to go out."
Shirone said weakly.
"Let's leave." Rian watched Shirone, who kept his head bowed in gloom, and fell into thought.
Shirone had been the prime mover in their victory, but Rian understood the desire to get away from the people of Gustav.
"All right, let's go."
When Rian rose, an old man muttered, "You're crazy. You'll be swept up and blown away."
"If the rain starts cutting into the ground, collect water. If we hold out a couple of days, the typhoon should pass."
Since Rian had carved this shelter underground with a few flicks of his blade, nobody tried to stop them anymore.
"Get on my back."
Rian offered his back, but Shirone shook his head.
"I can go alone. And crossing the typhoon will require casting magic."
"No, rest a bit longer. You're exhausted. I'll cut a path with Axing. Get on me."
As the world's strongest mage, Shirone would recover his mental strength after a few hours' sleep.
But what was wounded in him was his heart.
After a moment's thought, Shirone made up his mind and climbed onto Rian's back. Rian stood.
'Is he really this light?'
Rian could lift boulders, yet his friend's body felt astonishingly weightless—almost shriveled.
"Let's go."
Rian braced the large board he carried against the ceiling and slammed it upward with all his strength. With a bang, a hole opened.
While the people watched in daze, Rian leaped once and burst out of the shelter.
Kuuuuuu!
A tremendous wind struck them, but with Deny on Rian's body, he didn't budge.
Rain poured down, the droplets driven nearly horizontal.
"Whew."
Rian held the board before him like a shield against the wind and moved forward slowly. "Where shall we go?"
Shirone clung to Rian's neck like a child who'd lost somewhere to lean.
"...Rian."
After ten minutes of walking aimlessly, Shirone spoke up.
"Aren't you resentful of me?"
Rian thought.
'If I say I'm not resentful... would Shirone believe me?
Even if it couldn't be helped, is it possible to feel not even a speck of hatred toward the one who killed your family?'
"My brother's death made me sad too."
The wind swallowed their voices, but Shirone heard it through Rian's back.
"I wanted to talk more. But Shirone, I don't resent you."
"Because you made the knight's oath?"
"That could be..."
Rian answered honestly.
"But a knight's oath is nothing. There are countless knights in the world, and many betray their lords. The reason I don't resent you isn't because you swore an oath—it's because you are my lord."
Shirone was too exhausted to immediately grasp the difference between those two reasons.
"It's not your fault. If you chose to do something, I'll believe there was a reason so big and so deep I couldn't imagine it."
"For the cause, then."
Shirone hugged Rian tightly.
"Would your family feel the same?" Rian couldn't answer.
"Would Reina, Grandpa Klump, Bishop—would they trust me?"
"Let's go to the Ivory Tower."
The mages of the Ivory Tower might ease Shirone's heart.
"Tormia."
"Shirone."
"I'll go to the Ozent family and beg forgiveness. Until then I don't think I can do anything."
Rian fell silent and slowly changed direction.
Kuuuuuu!
The typhoon slammed into them with a roar like a blaze.
There was nothing left on the land.
The sea of Jincheon burned brightly.
"Kraaaa!" Mitura, commander of the Eighth Legion, fought with all his might inside the flames, but he could not stand against three of the Five Greats.
"D-deepest realm... Shouldn't we open it now?"
"You idiot."
Minerva, who had climbed a hundred meters into the air, inhaled from her long pipe and blew smoke.
When flammable gas triggered a chemical reaction, an explosion that could have swept the sea erupted.
"Wooooooo!"
Through the steam, Mitura—burning—threw himself wide and roared.
"I'll kill them all!"
Amanta of the Balance Division took command. "It's bluster. Keep going."
As he'd predicted, the demon realm did not open, and the remaining three pressed a full assault.
"Krak! Krak!"
Mitura fared miserably.
"Why... why can't we open the demon realm?"
Even with the resolve to self-destruct, pushing his heart to the brink only converged on a limit; the destination never came.
"Mastery of the heart seems separate from strength."
Fried raised his sword and charged.
"But sometimes that's everything." Though they could not open the demon realm, the Five Greats were beings whose convictions had transcended death.
"Want to know why you can't open it?"
Bound by Sing's Law, Mitura looked up at Fried, who floated aloft.
"You can't open it because you can't."
The heart is a strange thing.
"M-demon realm—!"
Mitura screamed; the demon realm did not open, and Fried's blade slit his throat.
With a splash, Mitura fell into the sea; his face, frozen in shock, sank into the abyss.
"That's the end."
Fried sheathed his sword as three of the Five Greats quickly flew about.
"The demons are fleeing. What happened?"
Mitura had been a fool, but the legion scattering against orders was unusual.
"It must be connected to Gustav. Shirone went there—whatever happened, it was probably resolved."
They would only be shocked later when they heard the news about Sojeonghwa.
Sing said, "Leave this to Jincheon and return to the Ivory Tower. We need to plan further action."
No one objected. The four Greats soon crossed the sea and headed north.
Jincheon had survived.
The Eleventh Legion, which held the south, was locked in fierce combat with a party of only three.
Their commander had already been wiped out by Gaold, but they still commanded a force of over ten million.
"There! Kill them!"
Gaold, coat open, strode into the advancing host with Gangnan at his side and Julu summoning a cougar.
"Leave this to us. Rest a little," Gangnan said.
Gaold's condition was dire—his hair had gone white and his face gaunt.
"Rest?"
Once he'd refused eternal rest, there could be no rest for Gaold's life.
"What is that?"
As always, Gaold charged straight at the surging army.
A realm-shattering power would annihilate the demons, but Gaold's magic exacted pain as its price.
'I can endure.'
After coming this far, to give up now would make all the years he'd borne feel like waste.
"Miro."
Gaold's eyes rolled back.
'Air Press.'
The sensation of pain...
"Huh?"
When he opened his eyes, the air smelled unlike the demons surrounding him.
'What is this?'
Monstrous demons with blades where their arms should be rushed him.
"Die—?!"
He fired the Air Gun reflexively; the grotesque bodies were torn to pieces.
'Where is this place?'
His mind in chaos, Gaold felt the brigade commander raise his hammer behind him.
"Danger!"
Gangnan kicked off the ground and leapt, driving her knee into the brigade commander's face.
The monster's face crumpled under the power of divine transcendence. Gangnan landed and turned her head.
"What are you doing!? Open the exit, quickly!"
"Time—"
Muttering, Gaold asked, "What day is it today?"
At the sudden question, Gangnan frowned, but there was no time to argue.
"The 16th! Why are you asking that?"
"The 16th?"
Four days of memory since Gaold had cast Air Press at the host had been erased.
"Damn it."
He'd experienced short-term amnesia since a self-reinforcing mutation occurred, but he'd never lost this much time.
"Everyone attack!"
Demons with bat wings in the sky rained fireballs down on Gaold and Gangnan.
"Gaold...!"
As Gangnan shouted, Gaold's eyes flashed and the atmospheric pressure spiked.
"Uaaaaa!"
He clutched his head and cried out. Gangnan and Julu—who'd been walking on a white beach—turned back.
"Does it hurt? Isn't this happening too often lately?"
Gaold looked around.
'A sea. The edge of an island, maybe?'
He could see Gangnan's clothes were singed.
"When did you get burned?"
"In the morning, when we were breaking out of an encirclement. It was nothing. You were with us. Why are you like this?"
This time the gap was about six hours.
Julu, noticing Gaold's strange state, finally spoke. "Tell us why. If we're going to keep fighting, we need to know."
"I..."
His memory had been cut off.
"Uaaaaaaa!"
When he came to, pain overwhelmed him and demons surrounded them on all sides.
"I'll avenge the legion commander!" Cylindrical columns of Air Press slammed into the demons, but Gaold felt utterly unfamiliar to himself.
'Who am I?'
Why was he fighting?
"Retreat for now! There are too many of them! They said the realm-shattering power is weakening!"
Was that so?
'The power's waning?'
He couldn't bear the pain.
"Wait a moment."
Gaold put a hand on Gangnan's shoulder, resisting her pull on his coat.
"Why again? Why now?"
"I—?"
Gaold asked with a baffled expression. "Why are we fighting?"
"For Miro. Because she wants you to fight. Is that enough?" Gaold's pupils trembled.
"Miro."
...Who was that again?
Gangnan ground her teeth. "Be honest. Is there something? Are you hiding something from us?"
"Oh—Miro."
He remembered.
"It's nothing. I've just had a lot on my mind lately. Anyway, get us out of here."
As Gaold tried to move, Gangnan grabbed him.
"Really?"
"I told you."
Gangnan's eyes widened. "Do you realize? You asked me the exact same question two hours ago."
Gaold could not answer.