Chapter 237 - No Compromise

Luri entered the inner castle and found herself in a dark room. Even a fool would realize after moving a little farther that this space had been created by magic.

Her silver, feline eyes faced forward. She briefly set her feet on the floor and rested her axe on her shoulder. It did not seem that continuing in one direction would ever bring her to the end. Had she been restricted to walking, she would certainly have said so.

"Tormenta."

"Yes."

The high-ranking wind spirit, capable of human speech, answered her obediently. It was a rare sight that spirit summoners never got to see. The spirit remained wrapped around her body as a precaution against their connection being severed.

"Space seems to be distorted here."

"Indeed. This appears to be a realm created by death."

"Can you find its source?"

Spirits were mysterious beings made of magic. They could sense things that even dragons, let alone humans, struggled to perceive.

"I will gladly be your eyes."

At those words, Luri rose into the air again.

"Do not dawdle."

The mobile brigade Silver Wing. It had been not only the strongest, but the fastest. At this moment, Luri became a silver comet, a wind that cut through everything in sight.

She did not cut things down indiscriminately. Her reflexes and vision were keen enough to distinguish coalition troops from Demons. Countless kingdom troops and stragglers could only stare down at the dead Demons and demonic creatures, unaware that they had been rescued.

'Those are...'

Even so, one group gave Luri pause. Two women were walking calmly through this space. One wore a ragged robe; the other's eyes were so narrow that it was hard to tell whether they were open.

'Were there people like that among us?'

She had seen many people while remaining at Ferda's side, but... More importantly, they felt powerful. Were those two enemies or allies? After a moment's consideration, Luri decided to pass them by.

The silver comet kept moving without rest, fast enough to travel from the far east to the Empire in five minutes. Maintaining that speed, she rounded corner after corner until she finally reached the source. Finding it had taken three hours.

Mages were gathered in one place, churning their Red Circles and generating mana. Their gazes were all fixed on a single spot. Seeing their reactions, Luri reflexively shut her eyes. There was a Trauma here.

A seasoned warrior, she could perceive her surroundings as clearly with her eyes closed as with them open. She pictured the place where their gazes converged and swung her axe toward it in a great arc.

SPLAT!

It sounded like a juicy fruit bursting. Luri avoided the shower of bodily fluids and landed on the floor. The reaction was immediate.

"Aaaaah!!"

"O King!"

"Such torment! Such toooorment!!"

Their ecstasy crumbled, and the humans screamed in agony. Their cries sounded as though they had fallen into hell itself. Luri could sense the mana that had blazed through their Circles fading and breaking apart. Those who had been wailing and screaming began coughing up blood and collapsing.

Some, seemingly unwilling to die for nothing, set their bodies ablaze and hurled themselves at Luri.

"May the king know emptiness!!"

Their eyes shone red as they turned their bodies into bombs. Against Luri, of course, these were futile gestures, and she swiftly dealt with them.

A moment later, she felt the space collapsing. Luri opened her eyes. A sickening scene of carnage greeted her within the red space. Her heart was heavy. But it had to be done.

'Master Ferda.'

She had to find him. Before leaving, she had promised Valdrova that she would bring him home unharmed. As Valdrova's servant, she could not disappoint her.

Yet despite those thoughts, it was not duty that drove her. Luri was genuinely worried about Ferda. She did not want to lose him.

'Keep moving.'

Luri steadied herself and moved. But as always, an obstacle stood in her way.

"Just what I would expect of one of Silverwind's people. To think you would force your way through by sheer physical ability."

It was Gokma. He tore through space and stepped out in front of her. In that instant, Luri's body moved reflexively, before she could even process what she saw. She had resolved to kill Gokma the moment she saw him, with no intention of talking and no room left for the possibility.

That single-minded resolve made her move with incredible speed, but she failed to cut Gokma down. More precisely, her strike landed true, but his body was replaced by another human's. Gokma, too, was part of Legion. His body had become immortal.

"I understand perfectly well that you have no intention of talking. This is hardly a matter that requires conversation anyway."

Space twisted around Luri. As the affected area contracted and expanded, the resulting shock waves threatened to blast parts of her body away. But she had the vision and judgment to detect them, and the speed to evade them.

Even so, she could not muster the aggression she had shown in their first encounter.

'Trauma.'

The fear that one of those eyeballs might appear anywhere, at any moment, was lodged in her mind. She had vowed to break free if she faced one again, but actually confronting it would be no different from offering her neck on the execution block. She had to avoid it at all costs.

Despite that, Gokma continued to fall beneath her axe. Each time, he reappeared, and Luri cut him down again and again.

The battle heavily favored Gokma. He already knew the weakness that could break Luri, and he was skilled at the tricks needed to draw her in.

Just as Luri grew accustomed to the human forms she had cut down ad nauseam, just as she assumed this next one was another of the countless sacrifices, Gokma struck at her weakness.

"Ugh!"

Where a head should have been sat an enormous eye. It burrowed into Luri's mind, plunging her into memories of regret in an instant.

'Damn it, not again...!'

Luri staggered. But unlike the first time, she tried to resist. With something precious to her here in the present, she tried to cast off the past. Yet the past could not be escaped. That was what it seemed to whisper.

Soon, countless eyes surrounded Luri, hemming her in so she could not escape.

BOOM!

An explosive report rang out. Every illusion before Luri vanished, leaving only liquid and fragments. Beside her was an object that looked like two long tubes bound together: a magical engineering shotgun. Unlike the ones the knights used, however, this shotgun was gold.

Only one man could wield the golden shotgun. Alberto, the Moving Fortress.

"So it's you, Alberto. I almost didn't recognize you without that armor."

"..."

He wore heavy cavalry armor rather than his usual suit, but the enormous club in his hand was practically a part of him.

"I have dropped countless humans and other creatures into my space. Nine out of ten—no, ninety-nine out of a hundred—feel helpless and give up."

"..."

"Yet no matter how many times I drop you in, I cannot shake you off. How very ironic."

"..."

"Why are you so obsessed with me?"

Alberto said nothing. Instead, he raised his shotgun.

BOOM!

A human body disintegrated into bright red blood and flesh. Gokma reappeared some distance away.

"Having come this far, you deserve a reward."

The look in Gokma's eyes changed. The aura that had drifted loosely about him in his ease was sucked into his center, seeming to leave a vacuum. His red eyes gleamed strangely, and the air turned cold.

Luri continued weighing her options. At first, she had considered leaving him to Alberto and searching for Ferda. But the look in his eyes forced her to reconsider.

'We have to keep this man here, whatever it takes.'

She adjusted her grip on her axe and unleashed Dragon Fear at him. Gokma was no longer smiling.

"I shall make an exception and indulge you both."

* * *

Ureas had returned to life. Within Gamigin's domain, the power of a Necromancer had restored his form. Death had freed his body from its constraints. His shape could no longer be called human. Something like tentacles writhed where his legs should have been, extending at will to toy with his opponents.

"Aaaaagh!"

The green flames possessed horrific power. The slightest brush against skin or even armor sent them swelling uncontrollably, devouring everything. The battle, which had overwhelmingly favored Count Ruster, reversed in an instant.

Since losing his flesh to the ashes, Ureas would no longer die, no matter how often silver swords cut him apart. One knight charged in heedless of death and once again drove a sacred relic of the Order into his heart.

"In Alte's name, I shall purify you, you filthy monst...er?"

Ureas's body seemed to scatter into ashes, but instead of collapsing as before, it took shape again.

"Hahahaha!! What a pathetic little trick!!"

Ureas burst into laughter, mocking the knight. Then, as if to make a point, he grabbed the relic and drove it into the man's own heart.

"Th-the Order's sacred relic...!?"

"What in the world is this thing...!"

Even Count Ruster's once-relaxed gaze had changed. Now he would have to risk his life to fight this thing.

This was his chance. Ferda tried to slip away through the opening.

"Do not let the regent escape!"

Even now, Count Ruster would not leave him alone.

The relic driven into Ureas's chest was not the only sacred object they had brought. One by one, the soldiers brought out items prepared for another plan. It was oil—holy oil blessed by Alte. As the oil-soaked torches caught fire, golden flames rose. Ferda's shadows lost their power entirely.

'Damn it.'

This was the problem with Barbatos's Shadow Art. It was tremendously powerful when used covertly, but far too weak in a direct fight. Once it was used openly and the enemy prepared countermeasures, it became utterly helpless.

But Ferda was a mage. As long as they could move their fingers and mouths, mages had ways to escape. Besides, he had survived to the very end despite all the malice directed at him.

Ferda concentrated the Magic Aura surrounding his body in front of him, forming a shield. Then he shaped the mana stored in his staff into an enormous bomb and slammed it hard into himself.

BOOM!

The blast hurled Ferda backward, allowing him to shake off the pursuing soldiers. Using one's own offensive magic for propulsion was foolish. A mage's body was not as sturdy as a knight's; just three tumbles would cost a broken bone somewhere.

But Ferda did not have to suffer that. The moment he passed beyond the holy oil's flames, his body melted into the shadows.

"Regent Ferda used dark magic!!"

"The regent of Valdrova is a Demon Follower! Show him no mercy!"

Everyone could see him, but he had no choice now. With the holy oil's fire neutralizing his power, escape was his only way out. Ferda had to keep moving and evade pursuit.

'At a time like this, what I need is...'

Luri came to mind instinctively. What was she doing now? He remembered the resolve to fight in those youthful eyes. She was dependable, certainly, but he worried that the weight might crush her.

'Zed and Arwen...'

Those two had decent swordsmanship and abilities as well. Zed in particular, with the Red-Eye Clan's unique eyes, could do more than anyone to break them out of this situation. If only he had even those two here.

'I've grown weak, too.'

Was he really the same Ferda who had believed there was nothing in the world he could trust?

Ferda steadied himself. He alone could overcome this situation, and he had to believe that. Relying on luck would lead to death. He moved.

'Where should I go once I'm clear of here?'

Should he kill the sacrifices to weaken the king of Heinkel? Or charge straight into the audience chamber and attack?

'The latter would be suicide.'

He would need at least Luri, Zed, and Arwen with him before he could even glimpse a way through. Weakening the king of Heinkel as much as possible had to come first.

Just as he reached that conclusion and was about to leave, someone recognized him and called out.

"R-Regent Ferda...?"

He turned to find a knight leaning against the wall, barely clinging to life.

"Who are you?"

"A kingdom knight... with the coalition..."

"Your companions?"

"All dead... And soon I, too... will join them..."

"I see."

As Ferda tried to leave again, the man grabbed his wrist and cried out desperately.

"The king of Heinkel is dead... We used every sacred relic... and won. But... but the problem is...! His death did not end it!"

"What do you mean?"

"Please save the king... In the audience chamber... they... If you are too late..."

The knight died before he could finish. To prevent him from rising again, Ferda placed the religious emblem the dead man carried inside his mouth.

'The king of Heinkel is dead?'

Was he truly dead? Ferda could not believe a man who had turned every person in his domain into a battery would die so easily.

'But he said something was happening after his death...'

Could the king of Heinkel be bait? As Ureas had demonstrated, Gamigin's dark magic became more powerful and vicious after death.

'I can't afford to be complacent.'

He had to take the risk.

Ferda headed toward the audience chamber. Demons and demonic creatures moved to block him, but they were no match for him. At last, he reached the chamber and opened the door.

Just as the knight had said, the audience chamber was riddled with signs of a fierce battle. Those once called elite soldiers lay smashed into walls, torn apart, or sprawled across the floor, their bodies growing cold.

They had probably all come here to protect their kings and fight for their kings' ideals. Did they know? Did they know their deaths were fading into nothing on that discolored carpet?

"Die!"

"The book is mine!"

"Do you think I'd hand it over to worthless scum like you!"

The kings who had survived to the end were stabbing daggers at one another. There was no swordsmanship, no combat technique to exploit an opponent's opening. Eyes wild, they simply drove their daggers into one another's bodies, over and over.

Four king pieces.

One square between them.

No compromise.