Chapter 170 - Magus Kailas (2)

The Dark Leaves.

Their sole purpose was to protect the current elven queen—the only high elf remaining since the forgotten age of the gods.

Since their founding, they had never guarded anyone else.

No, they never had.

Not until today.

"..."

Two carriages stood side by side beside an unpaved road in the pitch-black darkness. Draim, head of the Dark Leaves, watched them closely and let out a quiet sigh.

'Why on earth am I protecting a human...?'

To be honest, Draim could not make sense of this situation at all. The Dark Leaves existed solely to protect Magrina, the elven queen.

Of course, he knew that his personal feelings must have no bearing on his duties. The Dark Leaves served directly under the queen and acted according to her will. He had not the slightest intention of refusing his great queen's orders.

Even so, he could not help harboring a sliver of doubt. Half the Dark Leaves had been deployed merely to protect a human noble.

'No, he isn't an ordinary human noble.'

Draim lowered his gaze to Marquis Pallatio inside the carriage. Though they knew little about him, every member of the Dark Leaves guarding him here had realized something the moment they first saw him.

That something always lurking behind him, never emerging from the world beyond—it told them the marquis was far from normal.

'The queen ordering us to guard him is already proof enough that he isn't ordinary, but...'

His questions had not all vanished, but the queen's orders were absolute.

'Whew...'

How much time had passed?

As the campfire near the carriages began to die out, a man stepped out of the carriage ahead of Marquis Pallatio's. It was Deus Makalian, who had joined the marquis in the previous village. Despite the late predawn hour, his eyes shone with alertness.

Suddenly, a very quiet command left his lips.

"Come out."

A brief silence followed.

"If you won't come out, I'll force you out."

The moment he spoke again, Draim saw it.

"Ghk—!?"

One of his subordinates was silently dragged out, bound by purple threads that had appeared from nowhere.

'He saw through our concealment!?'

Draim was stunned despite himself.

Everyone who joined the Dark Leaves possessed above-average talent to begin with. The secret arts they mastered through that extraordinary talent granted them concealment that no one could easily detect—a level of mastery perceptible only to someone on par with the Five Exalted Ones, famed as the mighty of the nonhuman lands.

And yet the knight before him had detected the Dark Leaves' concealment at once.

'Impossible—'

Draim's brow furrowed sharply.

But Deus, who had captured one of the Dark Leaves without so much as disturbing his calm expression, sought the others.

"Five besides this one, then. I'll give you another chance. Don't run. Come out. If you do run, I'll kill this one first."

After a moment's deliberation, Draim let out a low sigh, dropped his concealment, and stepped out. It was useless anyway. He judged there was nothing to gain by holding out under these circumstances.

"... So you're their leader."

"I am."

Even after confirming that his opponent was an elf—a rare sight indeed—Deus Makalian's expression barely changed.

"Who are you?"

"... Let me make one thing clear first. We are not enemies."

"I'll decide whether you pose a threat to the marquis."

Draim fell silent for a moment at that firm response before continuing.

"I haven't lied to you."

"Why are you following the marquis?"

"... We were simply ordered to guard Marquis Pallatio."

"By whom?"

"I cannot tell you that."

"Then get lost."

The dismissal came without a moment's hesitation.

"... Unfortunately, that is impossible. We, too, have our orders."

"You must want to die."

"Hardly. Aren't you the one hastening your own death?"

"What?"

As Deus voiced his confusion, he suddenly felt a chill against his skin. A black blade was already poised at his throat. Dozens of blades, sprung from his shadow through Draim's ability, lay in wait to slice into his body at any moment.

"As I keep telling you, we have no need to oppose each other. We came only to guard Marquis Pallatio, not to harm him."

"That changes nothing. Get lost."

"... Do you think you're in any position to say that?"

As Draim frowned in incomprehension, Deus casually raised a hand and pointed to his neck.

And then—

"!"

Draim realized that purple thread had already wound itself around his own neck.

He was not the only one. Purple threads also encircled the necks of the remaining Dark Leaves, who had yet to drop their concealment.

"It doesn't matter. Not if I can kill every one of you who might harm the marquis."

"...!"

At the madness flashing unmistakably in those purple eyes, Draim involuntarily swallowed.

CREAK!

At the faint sound of a carriage door opening, the purple threads Deus had created vanished. Draim was bewildered by the abrupt change as Deus released every member of the Dark Leaves in an instant, but a quick nod from him sent Draim and his subordinates straight back into hiding.

A little later, Alon stepped out of the carriage, suppressing a yawn. His eyes were unfocused, perhaps because he had just woken.

"Deus."

"My lord."

"What were you doing?"

"Meditating."

"... Meditating?"

"Yes."

"... I thought I heard voices."

"You probably heard me murmuring quietly to myself."

... Wasn't meditation supposed to be silent?

Alon scratched his head once.

"... I see."

"Yes."

"Get to sleep soon. The later you stay up, the more tired you'll be."

"Yes. Sleep well, my lord."

"All right."

Still looking disheveled, Alon went back inside the carriage.

His carriage fell quiet once more. His waking must have been brief; he seemed to have slipped back into deep sleep in an instant.

Deus fixed his gaze precisely on a spot in empty air and spoke.

"Come out."

"..."

Draim appeared again, but puzzlement clouded his face.

Of course, since Draim had to guard Marquis Pallatio without being discovered, this was hardly a bad turn of events. Yet it was strange. Deus had no reason to accommodate the Dark Leaves.

"... Why go out of your way to hide us?"

His question was full of bewilderment, and the answer he received went far beyond anything he had expected.

"Because the marquis must not be made uncomfortable."

"Hm?"

"If he knew people like you were lurking nearby, he might lose sleep."

"..."

"Even if I disposed of you before his eyes, he might not sleep peacefully once a threat had arisen."

In other words—

'He released enemies he already had in his grasp so Marquis Pallatio could sleep soundly?'

Draim's mouth fell open in a daze.

"I'll give you one last chance. Leave. If you don't listen, I'll kill all of you this time."

"... Do you think you can?"

The arrogant declaration that followed brought Draim back to his senses.

But—

"Do you think I can't?"

"..."

Draim's mind reeled again.

'Those eyes again...!'

Those fanatical eyes were so strange and dangerous that meeting them sent chills through his entire body. Faced with their burning determination to achieve their aim no matter what was lost, Draim took an involuntary step back.

"Remember what I said."

Before Draim could even compose himself under the belated surge of shame, Deus turned away without hesitation.

... It was the late predawn hour.

And the following day, Deus could no longer sense anything nearby.

####

About a week later, Alon arrived in Lartania and met Rine at Merd, which had grown somewhat familiar to him by now.

"It's been a while."

"Hello, Godfather. And it's been a while for you too, Deus, hasn't it?"

"Indeed."

"By the way, what brings Deus here?"

"He said he had a little business to attend to."

"Mm, very important business."

Deus nodded, then bowed to Alon.

"Then, my lord, I'll be off to the labyrinth for a while."

"Your business is in the labyrinth?"

"Yes. There's something I need to obtain inside."

"... Hmm."

Behind his unchanging expression, Alon wondered whether Deus needed something from the labyrinth to make his gift.

Well, all sorts of miscellaneous goods did turn up in the labyrinth, so he soon let the matter go.

"Don't push yourself too hard, and be careful."

"...! Understood! I'll be sure to take care!"

"...? All right."

Deus's fervent response nearly left Alon bewildered once again.

After Deus left for the labyrinth, Alon sat in the office and chatted with Rine for a while.

"Have you been well?"

"Yes, of course. And you, Godfather?"

"Nothing of note has happened to me either."

"That's a relief."

Then he recalled what he had written to Rine before coming to Lartania.

"Rine, were you able to find the place I mentioned?"

"If you mean the place in your letter, I've found it."

"... You have? That's a relief. Thank you for always taking such trouble for me."

"Don't mention it. Not between you and me, Godfather."

Rine gave a serene, bright smile, then asked another question.

"But why do you want to go there?"

"I have an item that can only be used there."

Alon had taken the trouble to write ahead and ask Rine to find a particular location somewhere beneath Lartania for one reason: The Foot That Runs Through the Past could only be used at that specific place in the city.

"I see."

Rine nodded in understanding.

"It's late today, so get some rest. I'll come see you tomorrow."

"Let's do that."

The two agreed to meet the next day.

####

In the great tribe of Kalmak, which ruled the lizardmen's land beside the elven land of Greinif—

["Is this true?"]

"... I have passed on Kurak's letter exactly as written."

The incarnate god revered by all lizardmen, who bestowed imprints upon them all to grant them its own power, spoke.

["... He really might still be alive?"]

Beneath its veil, its mouth twisted with unmistakable anticipation.