Chapter 191 - Say You Want to Live - 7

Only shadows remained in the street as the light faded. Amid the surging darkness, Wolfen lowered the hand shielding his eyes. Darkness had spread through them like ink.

"... I realized a little too late, magician. You won't fool me again."

At first, he had been wary.

Then he had followed his usual routine.

After that, he had sought to finish things decisively, without growing careless.

Finally, he had tried to avoid being deceived.

Throughout it all, his excessive caution had drawn him into the magician's mind games. That was why the magician had gotten one over on him.

"I should have poured everything I had into killing you from the start."

But he would not be fooled again. Tricks could not last forever. Once the magician exhausted his prepared hand, he would be all but naked and helpless.

The next time they met—no, if Wolfen simply extended his senses and found him right now, he would fall beneath the Shadow's blade.

'You've suppressed your presence and hidden yourself, but all I need to do is find you.'

Just then, a faint voice reached Wolfen's ears. From far away came signs of people, accompanied by several mingled voices.

Wolfen focused his hearing on that strange presence. Soon, his eyes narrowed.

It was as though Amitengrad itself were speaking to him.

Countless voices blended together and seeped through the air like mist. They struck buildings, spread from afar, and echoed. Dry, precise voices rang out like a song.

『This is Military State communications officer UL, warning all residents who hear this voice. Effective immediately, a Level 5 emergency, Pentagram, is in force.』

『This is Military State communications officer DK. A Level 5 emergency is now in force. All citizens must stop what they are doing and attend to this announcement.』

『This is Military State communications officer CN. No one will accept responsibility for any consequences arising from failure to obey orders.』

A chorus of dry voices. They came from a building's rooftop, from inside an oddly shaped streetlamp, from the clock tower and statues, and from the middle of a clothesline strung across the street.

Voices that would have been dry even before passing through the golems became still more lifeless as they struck concrete buildings and spread throughout the Military State.

『Warning to all citizens who hear this voice. Those currently inside their residences must not come outside under any circumstances until the situation is resolved.』

『Any citizens outside must immediately lie facedown on the ground with both hands above their heads. Do not show any intention of resisting. There is a risk of accidental shooting.』

『This is an emergency. Some of your rights as citizens are suspended until the all-clear is declared. If you disobey instructions, we cannot guarantee your life or safety.』

The Military State did not joke. Thus, the voices delivering this announcement spoke nothing but the truth.

The communications officers, the voices of the Military State, were warning everyone within earshot.

『Tonight is a period of time that officially does not exist. Forget everything that happens.』

『Cease resisting and lie facedown where you are. If you show any intention of resistance, you will be disposed of as an enemy of the Military State.』

『To the enemies of the Military State: cease your futile resistance and quietly submit to being shot dead.』

As though that were sufficient, the warnings ceased.

Then a single clear, bright voice joined them.

『Military State communications officer Captain AB reporting to Major General Historia. Five blocks ahead. Target located at the site where abnormal light levels were just observed. I will guide you.』

"Confirmed."

Then came footsteps.

STEP. STEP.

Hobnailed military boots rang against the concrete. Iron striking dry ground added a strong, steady beat.

A long braid of jet-black hair swayed behind her. A tall woman with a languid, exhausted expression strode along, stretching her long limbs, the only person moving in a street where everyone else held their breath.

In that silent night, time seemed to flow normally for her alone, as though the entire stage had been prepared for her.

Her military boots reached her calves, and her uniform hung on her with studied sloppiness. Her cap was nowhere to be seen—perhaps she had not even brought it—and a couple of buttons were undone. Without the uniform, she could have passed for some street thug.

But the single star gleaming on her chest proclaimed her power.

As she strode along, she suddenly pointed her gun at her own temple. Without a moment's hesitation, she pulled the trigger.

BANG.

The sound tore through the darkness. A flash flared at her temple. The bullet struck her head.

Even bullet-repelling energy was meant to stop projectiles coming from a distance; it did little against a bullet fired at point-blank range. Yet despite doing something tantamount to suicide, the woman looked not merely calm but languid.

"Ugh... Rushed over without even getting any sleep... I'm in terrible shape."

Speaking in a voice steeped in exhaustion, she swept her hair back, revealing a broad forehead and striking features. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her lips were dry and cracked, but even under that heavy fatigue, she looked anything but frail.

When she lowered the gun, the spent bullet fell to the ground.

TAP.

It was as pristine as a new bullet.

The woman who had shot herself in the temple was equally unharmed, aside from looking a little tired.

"Oh, my head. Shouldn't have guzzled that damn beer just because there wasn't any liquor. Hsss. They told me all I had to do was stand by. Knew it'd turn out like this. But..."

Whether lamenting or complaining, the woman narrowed her eyes as she drawled.

The youngest of the Military State's Six Generals.

The star of the gun, who had risen to general on strength alone, without any prior record of service.

Violence incarnate, born under the Overlord's star. The daughter of the Military State. A supernova.

The Musketeer, Major General Historia.

"The Beast King is a beast, so fair enough. But even the Progenitor is keeping quiet."

Roughly raking back her hair, she fixed her cold, ash-gray eyes directly on Wolfen.

"Why's some weak-ass fucker so desperate to act up? Because he isn't dead yet?"

Then the Musketeer pointed her gun at Wolfen.

Wolfen felt a strange sense of incongruity. He could not understand why a woman who was supposedly a major general of the Military State would aim a gun at him to attack.

As long as bullet-repelling energy existed, guns were meaningless. Even a powerful arrow could be stopped without trouble by a single layer of armor coated in energy. A short, light bullet could never overcome the bullet-repelling energy radiating from the entire body.

Perhaps that was why, at the sight of the gun, Wolfen let his guard slip for an instant.

A gunshot rang out, and almost simultaneously, his shoulder jerked violently back. Even with energy wrapped around his entire body, Wolfen could not withstand the impact and staggered back two steps.

Feeling the stinging ache in his right shoulder, Wolfen spoke with inward admiration.

"... Powerful. Worth showing off."

He had not been careless. Unlike when facing the magician, he was using his bullet-repelling energy to its fullest, yet the impact had been tremendous. He had almost dropped his short sword.

But.

"Still just a gun."

With that much power, it would be dangerous to let her fire at him unopposed from a distance.

But what fool would keep his distance knowing that?

He immediately unleashed his Black Shadow energy arts and raced along the edge of the road in a sliding rush toward the gun-wielding soldier before him.

With cold, composed eyes, the soldier fired in rapid succession.

BANG.

Perhaps because he had cloaked himself in darkness, the next bullet missed over Wolfen's head. It wasn't even powerful enough, and now it couldn't reliably hit its target either. Could that thing even be called a weapon?

BANG.

This one glanced off his bullet-repelling energy at an angle. That energy exerted a repulsive force. Unless a bullet struck head-on, it would usually be deflected.

BANG.

This time, it hit the ground in front of Wolfen. Shattered concrete fragments pelted him like buckshot, but even that was not enough to stop his charge.

And another shot...

CLICK. CLICK.

A hollow sound. Frowning, the Musketeer brought the muzzle to her eye and peered down it. After inspecting the inside, she muttered.

"Oh. Out of bullets."

What an idiotic thing to say. Was the Military State truly trying to stop him with a general like this?

'I'll finish her quickly and hide. Killing a general or two is easy, but making an enemy of a country would be a nuisance. I'll teach them that attacking me costs more than it's worth.'

As the darkness advanced like a wave, sweeping away the light in the street, a calm voice came from a golem, as though running out of bullets were no problem at all.

『Do you require resupply?』

"Nah. It'll be over before it gets here."

Muttering, the Musketeer grabbed the streetlamp beside her and tore at it.

The streetlamp bent sharply. Its dim light died in an instant as it plunged headfirst into the ground, as though a giant had seized and twisted it. With a sound that tore through the darkness, the glass that had held its light shattered and scattered everywhere.

Having destroyed the streetlamp merely by gripping it, the Musketeer clenched her fist, seemingly indifferent to its miserable end.

"Combat alchemy."

CRRRUNCH.

The low-quality alchemical steel crumpled like paper. The body of the streetlamp, which had served the Military State for nearly twenty years with a light hanging from it, was caught in the Musketeer's grip. With the grinding screech of metal rubbing away against metal, the soft alchemical steel was mashed like clay.

Low-quality and soft though it might be, it was still iron. Had it ever suffered such humiliating treatment anywhere else?

It had simply met someone who made a mockery of common sense.

CRUNCH.

After casually kneading the alchemical steel in her palm, the Musketeer opened her hand again. An unevenly compressed metal sphere sat in it.

The captain pointed out the problem.

『Query. Major General, the technique you just used cannot be called alchemy.』

"Tch. Picky, aren't you? Doesn't matter how I do it, so long as I make a bullet."

Grumbling, the Musketeer tried to force her newly made bullet into the muzzle.

It would not fit. Naturally. Kneading clay in your palm did not produce a perfectly even sphere. There was no reason it should meet the specifications...

Not yet.

The Musketeer muttered.

"If it goes in the gun, it's a bullet."

But with sufficient force, specifications were meaningless.

The Musketeer pushed harder. The parts that did not fit were ground away with a shriek. The crushed sections glowed red-hot as the sphere was trimmed to fit the muzzle perfectly, then rolled obediently inside.

Cut off what did not fit. If it would not go in, force it. If it resisted, push.

Having made a bullet in a thoroughly Military State fashion, the Musketeer spun her gun and aimed forward again.

"There we go."

It had taken barely five seconds to turn the alchemical steel into a bullet.

In that time, Wolfen had swiftly closed the distance. Concealed in darkness, he glided behind the Musketeer. Coldly honed, murky killing intent aimed for her neck...

Or so he thought, when a hobnailed military boot appeared in his vision. The last thing he had seen was her defenseless nape, yet now a boot had come out of nowhere and was growing larger before his eyes.

Wolfen hastily thrust his short sword. Since she had obligingly stuck her foot out, he intended to split her leg along with it.

It never reached her. The boot shot forward in an instant, shattering his short sword, snapping his arm back, and slamming into his head to send him flying.