Chapter 116 - 10-4
In preparing to kill Lucy Alish, Marvel Boony established a set of rules for herself. First, she would not cause suffering. It was desirable that the target expire the very instant after a single moment of pain. If that proved difficult and the use of poison became necessary, she would use the strongest drug possible, as she did not wish for the suffering to last beyond two days.
Second, Marvel did not want Lucy to meet an end that would make her doubt her faith.
Religion could be called a business that deals in death.
Lucy had already paid her irreplaceable youth to the religion.
She deserved a death that matched that payment. In other words, Marvel wanted to grant Lucy a peaceful death that ended in an instant.
It was not simply because she was the princess of this country. At the Euryas Convent for Girls, Marvel had spoken with Lucy and developed a favorable impression of her. Sister Lucy had been interested in Marvel. Those eyes had felt comfortable to Marvel. Those eyes that had gazed upon her, brimming with curiosity.
—You are an intriguing person.
Lucy's eyes had spoken. Being gazed upon entranced by that beautiful face, Marvel had spoken pleasantly of her knowledge of warfare.
Marvel wanted the princess to die without those eyes becoming clouded.
It did not seem like it would be easy. If killing Lucy proved impossible, she would give up cleanly and—
—I'll kill Yugis Necrat.
She had even considered revising her selection of targets. Yugis was a careless fellow, so there would likely be a gap somewhere to exploit.
However, for the time being, it was Lucy. Lucy was a woman of high rank. She required the care of other women. Men could not enter the princess's most private spaces. The one who could get closest to the center of the Western Army was not a man, but a woman. By disguising herself as a lady-in-waiting, a maid, or some other kind of servant, it should be possible to approach the princess.
However, it soon became clear that a mere woman could not get close to the princess's circle. It seemed the princess's surroundings were tightly secured through trusted introductions or connections.
If that were the case, she could revisit the princess as a nun, Sister Marvel.
They were acquainted from the Euryas Convent for Girls. It would not be unnatural to visit.
But Marvel remained cautious. A portrait of her had been drawn and was being circulated. It had been printed on cheap paper produced for free by the convent and posted all over the country.
—How amusing.
Marvel thought. The reason was that no one noticed her. She did not hide her face with a hood; she walked with it exposed to all the world. The quality of the portrait was not very good. Furthermore, Marvel had dyed her hair. Now, her beautiful black hair had grown down to her shoulders.
Marvel stood out in terms of her beauty.
Even so, no one looked at Marvel with suspicion. Occasionally, people spoke to her. She simply ignored the men and women who pitied her, seeing her as a woman left homeless by the war. She had business with the men who approached her, interested in her body.
She ignored the scum who simply tried to buy her for sex.
—I won't do those things anymore.
As she had declared to Rivet, Marvel could not bring herself to allow anyone but Geraha to touch her skin.
She had business with men who tried to make a profit using Marvel. Following the trail of such villains, Marvel made contact with a criminal who would do anything for gold coins.
She wanted to try poking the Western Army by hiring them.
Marvel was confident she could procure the funds for this through theft. However, Rivet did not look very pleased. Rivet withdrew a large amount of gold coins from the church and provided them to Marvel. Afterward, Rivet hid in a convent in Karnain City. Rivet had said that because her skin color stood out, she did not want to hinder Marvel.
"But you can rest easy," Rivet had said. "I will see to it that Marvel's most crucial moment is witnessed."
The black nun had spoken.
—Fool.
Marvel thought, gritting her teeth. You want me to believe that I am all alone. Indeed, she had been made to believe that. Suggested by the terror of loneliness, Marvel had clung to Rivet. She had been trapped in the worldview of the Valley of Cats that Rivet whispered into her ear.
But it was different now.
Marvel could return to Kosa. It would not be an exaggeration to say she had already returned. Kosa was the world, and she had been accepted by the world. From the world's perspective, the Roma Church was nothing more than a tiny religious organization.
—This country will also become Geraha's.
When that happened, Marvel's journey would likely end. "The last one I will bury is you," Marvel had told Rivet. In reality, it might be different. The last person Marvel would kill was the woman named Marvel Boony. The foolish daughter of Meira Boony who had become a pawn of the Roma Church.
By killing her, Marvel would return to Kohal. There was a place she could return to.
In response to the incident where six youths were murdered, the Western Army carried out a large-scale crackdown.
Throughout Aver City, soldiers checked the faces and names of the citizens. Friction and quarrels broke out in various places. The citizens' dissatisfaction was growing, which was exactly as Marvel had intended.
However, the efficiency of the Western Army's reaction bothered Marvel. First, their action was fast. Their methods were thorough.
The six villains Marvel had gathered had already disbanded. Though she had stolen the clothes of boy soldiers, she had no intention of using them to disguise the villains and infiltrate the army. It was dangerous, and they likely wouldn't gather any significant information anyway.
However, she kept one man among the villains, a man named Darzek. A woman named Karla, a former work associate of Darzek's, was apparently searching for Marvel in partnership with a mercenary named Hume Razor. She had also found out that Hume Razor had participated in the Western Army from the beginning and served in a role like a guard for Lucy.
She wanted to use Darzek to find Karla and first test if she would turn for money.
Marvel and Darzek weathered the Western Army's large-scale investigation by sneaking into the attic of a merchant's house that had escaped the fire. Directly beneath the two of them was the daily life of a noisy household with many children. Every time she heard the children's voices, the corners of Marvel's mouth loosened with tenderness. Once, the master of the house came up to the attic, but Marvel and Darzek escaped the danger by hiding inside a wooden crate. Marvel, of course, did not make a mistake, and neither did Darzek.
Timing it for when the Western Army's investigation was about to end, Marvel and Darzek slipped out of the attic. While hiding in the attic, they had exercised extreme restraint with food and drinking water, partly because of excretion.
Now that they could go outside, Marvel thought she should at least let Darzek let his hair down.
"You may go to a tavern. If you can be sufficiently cautious."
"I'll pass," Darzek replied in a low voice, blending into the darkness of the night road. "More than that, Miss. The target is too far. We're short-handed."
"No," Marvel stopped.
She looked up at Aver Castle, which cast a black silhouette against the starlight.
"I can sneak into that castle at any time. I could sneak in whenever I like, but it seems the enemy soldiers' posture is quite firm. It would be difficult to sneak in blindly and search for the target. At the very least, I want to know the room where the target resides. If I know only that, I can do the rest alone."
"I already know you're no ordinary person, Miss. But doing it alone—"
"Darzek," Marvel began walking the night road. "You are a pleasant man. You try to strictly keep only the things you've promised. But—"
"Miss, I want to be useful to you," Darzek said with a fervent voice. "I heard—I don't know if it's a lie or the truth—but that Kosans value strong people. That they cherish clever people. That birth doesn't matter much, and that those with talent who work hard work for the sake of the ordinary, good people who lack talent. I—"
"Stop."
Sensing that Darzek's voice was about to rise, Marvel threw cold water on him. "I'm disappointed. I'll be clear: I don't expect that much from you."
"That's, of course—" There was a lonely ring to Darzek's voice.
"I want to know the princess's chambers."
"Yes, I understand."
She thought she heard Darzek's self-deprecating laugh.
Marvel pretended not to hear. As long as Darzek worked in proportion to the amount paid, that was enough. At this point, it was an impossible request to ask for that much trust.
At the eastern foot of the Dwarf Mountains, Udoh Renne was perplexed.
Udoh had already led the Villen cavalry over the mountains. It had been a forced march, traveling day and night. Moreover, it was a march with spare horses in the midst of thick fog and cold rain. They had crossed the mountains without accident, but—
—The way back will be snowy mountains, I reckon.
Though the ridge they crossed was low, the summit had been freezing cold.
However, the eastern foot felt warmer than Siddim. It felt as if one might even sweat. The Villen cavalry hid within a coniferous forest. Udoh knew that this forest was the hunting ground of a hunting people called the Canine Tribe. At this time of year, they were apparently hunting further to the east. However, it was not a place to linger.
Udoh waited for a messenger from Siddim.
He was perplexed because it did not come.
Udoh sent scouts toward the Plains Nations, organized the watch rotation, and trained the soldiers. In these wide grasslands, there were spaces where such things could be done without anyone knowing.
Even while killing time like that, the order to deploy did not come.
The Villen cavalry would eventually begin to waver. There was also the issue of food. Since they had relied on hitting the enemy's supplies, once they ate through the food they carried, there would be nothing left.
—What are they doin'.
Udoh felt a bad premonition.
Had something happened in Ganlord?
Indeed, Ganlord was in a state of disgrace.
Laicanel Thora retreated from Saranti to Ganlord, looking like one of the defeated soldiers.
—I don't want to admit it, but.
Laicanel thought of himself as a defeated general. While heading for a surprise attack with the goal of crushing Pusiteto's soldiers, he had failed to achieve his objective. Even while keeping Pusiteto as a prisoner.
General Hilboro, the commander of the Siddim Army, had apparently been captured by the enemy army.
The northern road connecting Brazm and the East had been pushed back by Saranti's soldiers and settled into a stalemate.
Regardless of the progress, Laicanel had brought the rear guard to Saranti. While this could be called an achievement, it was exceedingly plain.
—I can't go back like this.
Laicanel had to become political.
At Ganlord Castle in Maslow City, Laicanel received a warm welcome. Those who hosted him were Haider Skyner, who was an ally of Yugis in the Fourth Army, and Aram Danforth, a vassal of the Thora family. There was an atmosphere of conspiracy between the two. Laicanel was blatantly consoled.
—Good work.
That was the meaning. It was as if they were saying, "Please, take your rest."
"I'm not going back," Laicanel declared.
Haider Skyner undoubtedly wanted to send Laicanel back to the West by ship.
"Now Geraha Wolf is aiming for the East. Our battle is not yet over. I shall be a nuisance for a while."
Just as Laicanel suspected, Haider feared this situation.
Whether he had heard it somewhere, this Prince, with hair as yellow as seaside sand, already knew about Aram Danforth's movements to become Marquis Kraff.
"In that case, wouldn't there be a need to organize various things?"
The Prince spoke composedly.
Haider braced himself.
"The Skyner family's seizure of Ganlord—the world seems to say various things, but His Majesty has acknowledged that it is not without reason. That is what I heard from General Hilboro. He may eventually grant forgiveness. To the Skyner family and their collaborators."
Laicanel gazed at Aram's face. Being the son of Sedias Thora, the Lion of the Thora family, there was power in his gaze.
"If that's the case, the position of Belgau Provost will become complicated, as it will have to bypass the Thora family once. How about it, Aram. Why not return the Provost position here and return Belgau to the Skyner family? It seems the Skyner family has been moving quite actively in this war, in various ways, in both the shadows and the light."
"With all due respect—"
Laicanel stopped Aram from speaking. He wore a smile that seemed to brighten the place instantly.
"There is more. Of course, the Thora family will not abandon the Danforth family. Why not declare yourself independently as Marquis Kraff and form a new feudal bond with the Thora family? From now on, it would be an equal position."
"Wh... "
A color of joy appeared in Aram's eyes.
However, perhaps conscious of Haider's gaze, that color quickly vanished.
"But—"
"On top of that, Marquis Kraff will form a new feudal bond with the Count of Belgau. How about it, the whole thing will be streamlined. It shouldn't be difficult. There has been a generational feudal relationship between the Gilmond family and the Skyner family, and this is merely following that. Is that not so?"
Laicanel's face turned toward Haider. It was a face that could only be called exquisite. It was a beauty that would make even a man catch his breath.
Setting the face aside, Haider was inwardly impressed by Laicanel's political skill. He intended to make the Danforth family subordinate to the Thora family to attempt a division of the East. By controlling Kraff with the Thora family's backing, he likely intended to sever the connection between Ganlord and Carossa.
But it would not go so smoothly. The Thora family's military power no longer reached the East.
If Sedias Thora were alive, perhaps it might have worked.
"As a diversion, it is interesting," Haider said.
"As a diversion, it is interesting, isn't it," Laicanel laughed.
"Even if I were to seriously consider that proposal, Yugis would not allow it."
Laicanel's face became one of lost interest. "The Necrat family has been abolished."
"If we can win this war, the story will change."
"I'm happy, Haider," Laicanel said. "You're inviting me to talk about the war, aren't you? I thought for sure I was being left out."
"With all due respect, General—"
Haider's "due respect" was blocked by Laicanel's natural arrogance.
"Since General Hilboro cannot carry out his mission, I shall become the commander of the Siddim Army according to the hierarchy. I have heard from Hilboro about the second Twin Forts recapture operation planned in the East. For now, leave that to me. Of course!"
"What are you saying!" Haider stood up with a loud voice that was unexpected even to himself.
"Of course! I won't let it go badly!"
"What are you saying! This is a hijacking!"
"Haider!"
"Is it too shabby as a souvenir for your losing war!"
"The East is the one—what are you saying. Was the siege of Malfa City not because of your defeat?"
"The East will not move with a Western general. Even wars we can win will become losses!"
"Wait a moment, who are you. In what position are you saying that. Aram, as the General of the Eastern Army, what do you say?"
"Don't play dumb with me!" Haider did not let Aram speak. "In this place, I am the only one who can represent the interests of the East!"
Geraha Wolf was coming.
In that emergency, both Haider and Laicanel were doing this. The individuals themselves were deadly serious. Confirming the chain of command was undoubtedly an important matter. Haider would not yield, and Laicanel seemed to be the same.
The conversation continued the next day, and the day after that.
At the final moment, the East's step became disordered. An uncontrollable chaos had begun.
Lucifont Nera and Alf Cedar idled at a boat inn. The monotonous sound of the long rain seemed to comfort Alf. Alf had begun to sleep well, exhausted from crying.
Whenever he woke up, Alf asked himself.
—Did I dream of Teacher?
Even if he had dreamed of something, nothing remained in Alf's mind.
Perhaps Teacher would no longer come even in his dreams.
Lucifont said something good, which was rare.
"Humans, you see, die when they face an event that is too sad. In reality, their breath does not stop. This death is more plain and boring. But, Alf."
Hmph, Lucifont laughed through his nose, acting pretentious.
"But a genuine life does not begin until after one has met such a death."
"Why can you say things like that?"
Lucifont frowned. "You understand, don't you?"
Alf had no idea what he was talking about.
"As you can see, I am a man who has accepted many deaths and started many new lives—"
For a brief moment, an agony that seemed pitiable ran across Lucifont's features, surprising Alf. However, Lucifont was a man skilled in the art of presenting himself meaningfully.
"Life persistently gives sadness. It demands our death. But all humans revive from that death. Though I don't know if they really should revive."
"You seem like you'd just pop back to life easily." He thought he shouldn't say something teasing. Yet, while hugging his knees and looking down on the bed, Alf let it slip.
"Don't rush, Alf," Lucifont was also hugging his knees on the bed. "People revive from this death. Becoming stronger."
The long rain was not eternal. Welcoming a chilly morning, Alf noticed. The sound of rain had ceased. The weather had recovered. It seemed the ship could depart that afternoon.
"Lucifont, I've decided," Alf said, narrowing his eyes against the morning sun. "I'm done with the sobbing. I'll do what I have to do, and then I'll make a grave for Teacher together with my senior disciple."
"More importantly, you, do you have any money left?"
"Of course I don't. Why?"
"Hmph," Lucifont gave a wry smile. "A woman I met here is pestering me to take her to Aver. I'm short on the ship fare."
"What the hell are you doing. What were you doing while I was crying?"
"Heh heh."
Lucifont eventually persuaded the woman, it seemed. He came to the port alone.
He thought the ship would leave Rodebisk Port and head immediately west. Instead, for some reason, it headed east. While keeping the land to the right, the ship eventually took a northern course, and on the first day, it actually anchored at a foreign port. The country of Skesia.
The next day, it seemed they would traverse the inner sea. Along the way, they entered the port of a large island, and the crew loaded and unloaded cargo. They arrived at Aver City at a time that was still early to be called evening.
They arrived in just two days. It was staggeringly fast.
"Alf, get an inn around here," Lucifont said immediately after disembarking.
"An inn, but—"
Alf lost his words. It seemed there had been a fire; buildings were charred black and collapsed on the ground. It was not just one or two, but the entire area was in that state.
Within a scene where the smell of burning still remained, Alf felt a sense of incongruity.
The scenery looked distorted. A thick presence of magical power was rising, distorting the scenery.
—Are they here?
Alf felt anxiety.
"Alf? What's wrong?"
"Lucifont. I'll part ways with you here."
"Are you going?"
"Yeah. We'll probably never meet again, but for now, my thanks—"
"We'll meet. Heh heh. Because I'll be in that castle."
Speaking with such excessive confidence was Lucifont's personality.
Alf raised his hand to Lucifont and ran away from the spot. He was gripped by a bad premonition. A premonition that it might be as Lucifont said. He felt like they would meet again.
—I'd hate it if I had some strange connection with a guy like that.
Regardless, Alf ran, searching for the direction of the dense magical power.
—Well, it'll be fine.
Lucifont thought about Alf.
He's a child, but he doesn't seem stupid. If he's in trouble, he'll probably come visit Lucifont at Aver Castle.
Lucifont headed for that Aver Castle.
His only pleasure was to meet the princess of this country, who was called an peerless beauty.
The one who came jogging to the entrance that served as the gateway to Aver Castle was a young man. He came with the sleeve of one arm swinging.
"Hey," the one-armed man said loudly. "Did that ship arrive? From the East?"
"It did, but—"
Lucifont answered.
The black-haired man beamed. "Good work. Sorry to be abrupt, but I want to talk."
He was led to the castle's courtyard. There was a wet long bench. There must have been a passing shower. The black-haired man sat down nonchalantly. Lucifont had no choice but to sit beside him. His backside was cold.
"So, what's happening in the East?" the one-armed man pressed.
"Huh?"
"Tell me the story of the East."
"Huh?"
"Are you slow? Are you stupid? What's happening in the East?"
"With all due respect—" as Lucifont began to speak, the black-haired man extended his right hand.
"I am Yugis Necrat. Has anything happened in the East?"
"Ah, you are."
Lucifont returned the handshake.
He had heard the name Yugis many times from Zeal Androsh.
"I didn't know you were one-armed. Where did you lose it?"
"In the West. I was pushed off a cliff by the Thora family people, and when I woke up, I was in this state. —What about Zeal?"
"He's doing well. He's riding his horse day after day, gazing at the Twin Forts."
Yugis smiled. He looked at Lucifont with a light in his eyes as if seeing a nostalgic friend.
"Riding a horse against Kosans, is he. I heard Rhythmdale fought alongside Kraff. Are you of that sort as well?"
"Heh heh. Just a knight of a tiny house. More importantly, I came to inform you of the Great Fire of Maslow."
"The person in charge has already been decided. Tell that person. First, I want to hear about the East."
Lucifont had not been doing nothing but wooing a woman in Saranti.
Going out into the city, he had gathered information regarding the defeat at Brazm to some extent.
Brazm had been taken by the enemy.
It was highly likely that General Hilboro had become a prisoner of the enemy army. However, it seemed they had also captured the enemy general of Brazm, Pusiteto.
Geraha Wolf showed signs of eyeing the East.
"What about Laicanel Thora? Is he safe?"
"Yes. It seems he is heading for the East."
Hearing this, Yugis began to rub his left shoulder with his right hand. Perhaps there was still pain. "I understand well. ...Lucifont, is the ship safe? How is the security of the road between Saranti and Ganlord?"
"Heh, there's no problem. The Eastern Army is guarding it, using Famana as the defense line."
"I think it's about time the Commander-in-Chief entered the East, don't you?"
"Commander-in-Chief... the Princess? Her Highness Luchentin?"
"That's right. It's finally time. I'll invite her to the East. What do you think?"
—That's it!
Lucifont Nera couldn't help but slap his thigh with his palm.
It had to be that way. That was the long-cherished wish of the East. To invite the Royal Family. Why did no one say it? Had the East not been unfortunate for so long? Needless to say, it was because it was far too awe-inspiring.
The East is a territory solidified by our feudal bonds, our own land, Lucifont thought. Our lives, our laughter, our history. We who were miserably ignored by the Royal Family, who were uglily jealous of the West, and who were lonely. We who were not treated with importance and were made to realize our own insignificance over and over. Our only reliance was the thin feudal relationship with the Royal Family formed by Ganlord and Kraff. The East was composed of people who merely clung to that. If the Princess would come there.
"If she would come, if she would come..." Lucifont whispered. "The East will collapse in tears... that's what I'm worried about."
Even if he had heard that the King was stopping by his shabby home, Lucifont probably wouldn't have been this surprised. She is coming to the East. To that utterly sulking East.
When Zeal Androsh spoke of Yugis, although it sounded like he was speaking ill, there was familiarity and expectation in his tone. He understood that feeling a little now. This man understands us. Come to think of it, it's natural. He is the son of the Count of Carossa.
"But—what will you do about the enemy in Malfa City?"
"I'll blast them away."
A light of determination flashed in Yugis's eyes.
"Heh heh. If that's the case," Lucifont let out a laugh. The prompt response was pleasant. "Heh heh heh. I shall accompany you."
"Will you stay? You'd see the joyful faces of the East."
"Yes. However, I am, for now, a knight."
"Just in time, the Princess is here. Let's greet her."
Looking where Yugis was gazing, there was a woman in men's clothing walking with a fluttering cloak in the courtyard's corridor. She walked with blunt, wide strides as if throwing out her long legs, fists clenched, shoulders squared. She was a woman with short hair. That person must be the Princess. She had a well-featured profile, just as the rumors said. She was accompanied by two ladies-in-waiting.
When Yugis went before the Princess, he dropped to one knee and bowed his head. After saying something, Yugis called Lucifont. Lucifont hurriedly ran over and dropped to one knee beside Yugis. Prompted by Yugis, Lucifont announced his name and spoke of the situation in the East. Soon, he heard a gentle voice above him.
"Laika may be on edge."
"It is unavoidable given the position," Yugis said. "However, I am worried if there is any friction with the East."
"Very well. I shall go."
Lucifont's body trembled. He was breaking into a sweat.
"Lucifont Nera."
"Yes!"
"Raise your face."
"Yes!" Lucifont raised his face and immediately bowed his head again. She was a princess so beautiful it felt like his eyes were being crushed.
"I am grateful for your work. The woman who set fire to Maslow is in this city. A person named Hume Razor is searching for her, so please lend a hand."
"Yes!"
"You said you knew the face of the Sister—that woman, did you not. What kind of conversation did you have?"
"Yes! We did not speak much. I have slept with her."
"...I see."
The Princess said, and Yugis was shaking his shoulders, holding back laughter.
Lucifont blushed with an awkward feeling.
As for where Marvel Boony, who had escaped from the attic of an ordinary home, decided her next residence, it was under one of the countless bridges in Aver City.
Marvel blended in among the disaster victims overflowing in the city. She sat on the ground and listened to the conversations of people who did not know what tomorrow would bring.
"I'm hungry, aren't I, Lina-chan?" Marvel had already become close enough with the girl sitting next to her to call each other with -chan. "I'll go look for food. Save my spot, okay?"
"Got it, Elmi-chan."
Elmi-chan was Marvel's pseudonym.
Clad in rags, Elmi-chan climbed the embankment on all fours.
Upon reaching the road, she casually checked the surroundings for safety.
At the foot of the bridge, a grimy old man with black skin was crouching. It was a face she knew.
"You could have become one of the people of the Serpent God," the old man said in a weak voice. "You chose to become the daughter of the Great Bird God. It was a wise choice."
"Manam, was it. We met near the valley of Siddim."
"Your features have changed. You have become reliable. You remind me of your Mother."
Marvel felt a nausea in her chest.
It was the same unpleasantness she had felt when they met in the desert ruins before.
"Old man, was the King found?"
"Now, all of humanity has discovered the Great King."
"Are you alone today? You had companions."
The old man shook his head sadly. "One died, and one became senile. Living a long life is not enjoyable once you try it. Lately, I too wish to go to Nirvana quickly and meet my friend."
"You say that. Your longevity is already not that of a sane human," Marvel sneered. "Attachment is leaking from your face."
"—Because there is something left to do." The complex, fine wrinkles all over his face became a smile.
Manam cast aside the pretense of being a timid old man. His eyes emitted light with an oily wetness, and his voice became bold and low.
"Did I mention the story of reading features? Before you say how my face looks, your goal is plain to see within your own face. Can you do it, that thing?"
Manam gestured with his chin toward Aver Castle.
"Your worry is unnecessary."
"This is the land of the Serpent God. Assume you have no protection. Well, there is no need for worry. I shall lend a hand."
"Don't make me laugh. Unnecessary—"
Manam, who had been looking down, raised his face. In his ink-colored pupils, something dark like a shadow was swirling.
Marvel's tongue stiffened. Strength left her body. Yet, she felt the illusion that the only reason she was still standing was because her legs had turned into poles. She didn't know if her whole body was tense or relaxed. She felt as if she were shaking, yet she couldn't even shake. It was a complete sleep paralysis; she couldn't move a single finger.
"Your will doesn't matter at this point."
Manam took on a bored expression.
"The story is simple. In exchange for lending you power, there is something I want you to do. There's a troublesome brat. With your specialty, the short sword—faaa, faaa."
Manam suddenly recoiled. He opened his eyes so wide it seemed the eyeballs would pop out, opened his mouth, and emitted a voiceless sound. While flailing his limbs, it did not form a single coherent movement.
At the same time, the spell cast on Marvel's body broke.
Being a bold woman who was strong in the final moment, Marvel was calm at times like this.
She pinched the small knife in her bosom with her fingers and looked back over her shoulder.
There was a boy with gray hair and gray eyes. He wore a long robe with a hood that was too big for him.
"What's this, a shadow?" the small boy said. "Well, whatever. There are two of the old man's faces lined up, but one is clearly a girl, and the other is apparently the real thing. Right?"
"Faaaa"
"It was a pain searching. Everywhere I went, the old man's face was there."
"That one, it's that one!" Manam pointed at the boy and said to Marvel, "Do it, now, quickly!"
"What is it?" While hiding the small knife in her hand, Marvel made a gesture of crossing both fists over her chest. "I don't know what story you're talking about."
"Old man, don't bully the girl. Besides, your actual body isn't here. Old man Persa wasn't cowardly like you, Manam. He came before me proudly and taught me various things."
"Shut up, Alf. Zarko died with a howling face!"
"Fine by me, old man. Take care of your body. Stay healthy until you meet me."
The old man groaned.
He glared at the boy with resentful eyes, and then he began to fade. His existence became thin, and he disappeared, becoming transparent as if assimilating with the air.
While she was stunned, Marvel felt a gaze.
The boy was looking at her. "Big sister, you were in a disaster, getting entangled with someone weird."
Marvel erased her bloodlust and nodded. "Yeah. Thanks. You saved me."
"Sorry, you've got something on your head."
The gray-eyed boy reached out and gave Marvel's head a single pat.
He was pinching a withered leaf with his fingertips.
"If you wear something like this, it ruins a precious beauty. Well then."
Saying that, he ran off with light steps.
When Marvel followed, the boy went to the gate of Aver Castle and began talking about something with the sentries. Marvel clicked her tongue and turned back. She immediately went to the bridge where Darzek was hiding and explained the situation.
"I will leave the city once. Gather information for me."
Waiting for night, she dove into the river and left the city.
It had been cloudy since evening, and the stars were not visible. Foreign fields were making sounds, blown by the wind.
—What should I do. Should I go back.
It was true that Mozu Wolf's army was nearby.
Marvel shook her head. She couldn't do that. If she went back here, she would probably loosen. She felt that she would want to meet Geraha and would never be able to return to her mission.
—Alf, he said.
That gray-haired boy had shown an expression of realizing something upon seeing Marvel's face. He must have noticed she was the woman in the portrait.
I won't forget the name. Someday, I'll make him pay the price for this.
In the completely lonely grasslands, Marvel searched for a place to hide like a beast.