Chapter 70 - City of Demons

Hellob now survived only as a ghost story—the sort told to recruits seated together on a dark night to impress upon them just how terrible Demons were.

The story was simple.

A great city had been destroyed by Demons in a single night. The Demons had eventually been driven out, but there had been no survivors.

In the process, nothing but the city's foundations remained, and no one visited anymore. According to the story, anyone who happened to pass nearby would hear screams and laughter.

Then a landslide had buried it, wiping the city away entirely.

The problem was—

"Hey, rookie. I told you to sing something."

—a horror story worse than Hellob's was unfolding right beside Tom.

Adrianna's helmet turned toward Tom. Something about it conveyed desperation.

His hair stood on end.

"Um... didn't we tell you the rookie can't speak?"

"Oh, right. I'd just thought he was the quiet sort."

Tom was dumbfounded as Gilberton nodded. Gilberton left Damian and Gwen alone, but he kept picking on Adrianna, perhaps because he considered her his junior knight.

"I'll sing instead!"

Tom hurriedly pulled out his instrument.

'Thank goodness I learned to play.'

Murmuring under his breath, Tom plucked the strings. All his hard work had paid off; he sounded quite good. Good enough, in fact, to draw Gilberton's attention away from the rookie.

Tom began singing for dear life. Things quieted down a little, so Gilberton seemed satisfied.

Tom sang with even greater fervor—only to be forced to admit that he had underestimated Gilberton.

"Your immediate senior Tom is singing. The least you could do is dance, rookie. Can't you take a hint?"

At Gilberton's disapproving click of the tongue, Tom couldn't help letting out a long scream.

"What an incredible high note."

Gilberton applauded in admiration. Fortunately, his attention returned to Tom.

To keep it there, Tom shook his backside while playing and singing.

It was the finest performance Gilberton had ever seen.

This region was practically abandoned, and it would have been easy to lose their way, but Gilberton had no trouble navigating. The golden line stretching from the knife saw to that.

The thick line extended far ahead, as though marking their route. He couldn't have gotten lost if he'd tried.

"The Hero of the North can't be hidden by a thick helmet—or thick armor!"

With Tom singing and playing as well, holding the reins was a pleasure.

Gilberton chuckled as he drove.

Then the golden line suddenly wavered. It shrank in an instant, plunging their surroundings back into darkness.

He hadn't noticed before they had the line, but losing it now was terribly inconvenient.

Just then, Gwen screamed inside the wagon.

"N-no! I can't do any more!"

"Then there's nothing for it. Say goodbye to Damian! Bye-bye, Damian!"

"No! Bye-bye—no! No!"

"Don't worry! I'll file it as a workplace casualty! There'll be a generous severance payment too!"

"Severance...? N-no!"

The golden line grew bright again. It stretched even farther than before.

'What on earth are they doing in there?'

Gilberton stuck to holding the reins.

* * *

"Well done."

Galahad gave the thoroughly spent Gwen a few pats and climbed out of the wagon. The chill cooled his overheated body, and fresh, moist air tickled his nose.

'A city erased by Demons.'

Recalling Tom's explanation, Galahad surveyed their surroundings. Remnants lay everywhere, just as Tom had described. Broken pillars and walls were scattered about. Judging by their foundations, they had been thicker than those in the capital, but time had worn them away in places.

Here and there, a pillar still stood as though refusing to fall, faint testimony to the city's former grandeur.

They were only fallen ruins and bare foundations, but spread across such a vast area, they were truly majestic. A soft covering of snow made the sight quite splendid.

'A fine tomb.'

Galahad put a cigarette between his lips.

'It's been cut off.'

Galahad ran his fingers over the knife. Even when he fed mana into it, there was no response.

Something had clearly happened to the object serving as the link to their target.

"Where do we go now?"

Gilberton asked in a loud voice. Galahad lit his cigarette. Smoke mingled with his misting breath, tracing a long line through the air.

"We'll have to start looking."

"What?"

Galahad gave a small wave of his hand as he surveyed the area. The tracking magic had abruptly cut out. There had to be something here.

He scattered mana with a sweep of his hand. He sent it quite far, but got no notable response.

'To cut off my tracking magic...'

Tracking magic linking two objects was extremely sensitive. Even the slightest change to either object could easily disrupt it.

Experienced agents layered their spells to prepare for that possibility. Galahad's tracking magic had three layers.

'There was no response at all.'

Yet his tracking magic had vanished as though erased.

There were two possibilities: his opponent was a better mage than he was, or this was a Demon's authority.

'The latter, then.'

"Sir Gilberton, would you climb up there?"

Galahad pointed to a pillar towering amid the collapsed ruins.

"Pardon? Yes, sir."

Without asking why, Gilberton climbed the pillar. He was remarkably nimble despite his armor. From a distance, he looked like a beetle.

Standing atop the pillar, Gilberton looked around.

"Nothing here! Just ruins! Ruins!"

Abandoned though it was, the city still lay within the patrol area. Anything visible to the naked eye would already have been spotted by a patrol.

Galahad had only sent him up to confirm.

'Did they sever the link here and move on? No, then there should be traces of the linked object.'

Galahad quickly reviewed the situation. Since there was no trace of the object at all, Damian clearly still had it.

And yet he couldn't track it...

"Strange."

"What is?"

Gilberton had returned before he knew it, his forehead covered in sweat.

"There's no trace at all. Did they fly into the sky?"

"Oh, they're not in the sky. I checked."

Galahad narrowed his eyes at Gilberton's confident reply. Just as he was about to say something—

"I checked myself. They're definitely not in the sky. They might have vanished into the ground, but—"

'Vanished into the ground?'

Galahad murmured under his breath. That was surprisingly plausible.

If they had gone underground, it would explain the lack of traces.

"Of course. Underground."

"What? No, I was joking."

"I'm quite serious."

Gilberton made an odd face.

"Are we digging?"

"No, we need to find the hidden passage."

"How do we find it if it's hidden?"

"Oh, how careless of me to overlook something even you could think of, Sir Gilberton."

"... Are you mocking me?"

"Correct."

Galahad waved a hand to cut him off.

"If the Demons are underground and did something to erase my tracking magic, the mana concentration there should be high. Demons like abundant mana."

"Aha, I see."

"Do you understand?"

"Yes, more or less."

"Sir Gilberton, you wrinkle your nose when you lie."

Clicking his tongue, Galahad snapped his fingers. A Mana Arrow appeared, and he took mental note of its size.

If the Demons had a passage of their own, with something capable of nullifying tracking magic, the mana concentration there was bound to be high.

"But how long will it take to find it like this?"

Gilberton grumbled under his breath. Funny as it was, he had a point.

The ruins were too extensive to search by comparing mana concentrations with a Mana Arrow. And time was short...

Then a foolish-looking helmet caught his eye. Adrianna.

She was feeding the horses. Even with her gauntlets on, she touched them gingerly.

'Ah, I have Adrianna.'

Galahad recalled teaching her how to detect magic.

"Sir Gilberton, have I ever told you?"

"Told me what?"

"The rookie has a nose like a dog's."

"What?"

"An exceptionally keen nose."

* * *

CLATTER. CLATTER. CLATTER.

Adrianna ran busily about in her foolish-looking helmet, moving faster than most horses.

To think she could check mana concentrations while running at that speed...

Galahad gave a quiet murmur of admiration.

CLATTER.

At last, Adrianna stopped in front of the most intact pillar among a scattering of thick columns. The structures on either side of it had collapsed, leaving something resembling a doorway, though there was nothing behind it.

Ordinarily, he might have passed it by with no more than a thought about the unusual way it had fallen. But the Mana Arrow on Galahad's finger was ever so slightly smaller than before.

'She really found it.'

"Good work, rookie."

CLATTER.

Gilberton patted Adrianna's pauldron. The foolish-looking helmet turned urgently toward Tom, who discreetly steered Gilberton aside.

Galahad examined the inner face of the pillar. Something resembling a picture had been drawn there.

At first glance it looked like graffiti, but curiously, it had the structure of a magic circle.

'This is... impressive.'

To retain the principles of a magic circle while making it look like a picture... This was no mere magic circle. It was a work of art.

'Similar to the demon-beast tamer's magic circle. A remnant of the Imperial-Demon War?'

Its form resembled the tamer's, but its underlying basis was entirely different. It was a new kind of magic circle he had never seen before, and it piqued his interest immensely.

Apparently, this was what had cut off the tracking magic.

It was an ancient magic circle, made even harder to decipher by its pictorial disguise. Even Galahad struggled to understand it. He drew on his experience decoding the demon-beast tamer's magic circle to analyze it.

'A magic circle opened with Demon blood.'

This circle required blood of a higher concentration than the demon-beast tamer's. In other words, Demon blood.

'Those northerners would never get inside.'

The people of the North didn't even know what a magic circle was in the first place. Without Galahad, they would never have discovered it.

He opened one of the canteens Adrianna had given him. A crisp sound was followed by the revolting smell of blood.

THUMP! THUMP!

'Didn't you eat earlier?'

THUMP! THUMP!

'Keep that up and Adrianna will give you a scolding.'

Having silenced the Egg of agony, Galahad poured blood from the canteen onto the magic circle.

The Demon blood painted it red, and the circle began to vibrate faintly.

Galahad eased back. Adrianna took up a protective position in front of him.

"How reassuring."

CLATTER.

Then the space between the pillars shifted.

RUMBLE!

Stone scraped against stone, revealing a dark opening. It was—

"Found it."

—a staircase wide enough for four men to walk abreast. Shrouded in thick darkness, it looked like an entrance to hell.

Galahad flicked his cigarette into it. The cigarette bounced down the steps, shedding light into the darkness. It rolled a long way before its glow died.

"Looks like it really is a city of Demons."

Galahad murmured the joke, but no one could laugh.

Clicking his tongue softly, Galahad took out another cigarette and put it between his lips. A glance behind him revealed his stiff, tense companions.

"From here on, I'll be the only one speaking. You're all mute now. Honestly, Sir Gilberton, didn't I say you were mute? Close your mouth."

Once they were quiet, Galahad smiled and stepped onto the stairs.

How long had they been walking? Galahad sensed someone ahead. Gathering mana, he snapped his fingers without hesitation.

A faint snap was followed by a low groan.

Galahad released mana, identified the figure's shape, and advanced. A Demon lay on the ground with an Ice Spike lodged in its neck. Despite its pierced throat, its face was expressionless.

'A bottom-ranking Demon.'

Galahad pinned its arm beneath his foot and seized the back of its neck. Blood gushed out, filling the air with a foul stench.

The Demon looked up at him without the slightest fear in its eyes.

"Demon?"

The word came out in a leaking hiss.

"Wrong answer."

Galahad placed a hand against its temple and cast mental magic. The Demon's eyes grew hazy.

"Is this a city of Demons?"

"Th—"

Its eyes twisted. Another mental barrier.

'Quite thorough precautions against mental magic.'

But he had encountered this before.

Without hesitation, Galahad drove his finger into its temple. He felt an unpleasant resistance as his finger sank to the first knuckle.

The Demon let out a low, strangled cry. Pain surfaced on its face.

"Is this a city of Demons?"

It nodded.

"Are there humans inside too?"

It nodded.

"I see. Have you seen a group bringing in a scrawny boy?"

It nodded.

Galahad quickly assessed the situation. Once his calculations were complete, he pulled the Demon closer by the neck.

With its eyes directly before his own, he asked,

"Do I look like a Demon to you?"

... A nod.

It sniffed at him before nodding.

Then the Demon's head swelled. Clicking his tongue, Galahad stepped back.

A foolish-looking helmet appeared in front of him. Adrianna.

POP!

With a crisp report, flesh burst outward. Adrianna took the spray head-on as she stood between them, but she didn't so much as flinch.

"Well, this is interesting."

Galahad wiped blood from his forehead.

'It thinks I'm a Demon.'

Most likely because of the Egg of agony. Or, judging by the sniffing, because he had drunk Demon blood.

Either way, he could make good use of it.

And the presence of humans meant—

'Demons can bring humans inside.'

The foolish-looking helmet stared at him. Galahad took a deep drag on his cigarette and nodded.

His calculations were complete.

"It seems we've really come to a city of Demons."

A fragrant lemon scent drifted through the air.

The foolish-looking helmet rattled. Adrianna's character was so clear-cut that he could guess what she was saying.

"You're saying we should go back and request reinforcements?"

CLATTER.

Galahad glanced back. Gilberton gripped his sword steadfastly, Gwen was tense and on the verge of tears, and Tom held his shield.

Their expressions differed, but none showed any sign of retreating.

Adrianna's suggestion to request reinforcements was reasonable.

However...

"I'm sorry, but we don't have time to wait for reinforcements. Besides, I can't entirely trust the Grand Duke."

CLATTER?

He could sense her bewilderment through the foolish-looking helmet.

"Ah, to be precise, I can't trust the Grand Duke's eyes and ears. However careful the Demons may be, an entire city of them is another matter."

...

The foolish-looking helmet went still.

It was a somewhat dangerous thing to say, but Galahad trusted Adrianna's character. No—he understood it completely.

Just then, Gilberton raised his hand. Seeing him open and close his mouth silently, Galahad clicked his tongue and nodded.

"You may speak now."

"If there are guards this far out, security will be even tighter below."

It was an uncharacteristic concern for Gilberton to raise.

From the magic circle to the Demon stationed at the entrance, they were taking considerable precautions against intruders.

As for getting past them...

"I have a way."

"... You do?"

"Now, everyone, pay attention."

Galahad tapped the ash from his cigarette. Every gaze fixed on him at once.

"We're on the threshold of a city of Demons. Chances are it'll be dangerous. Anyone who wants to turn back may do so. Yes, Gwen. Speak."

"Is Damian inside?"

"Very likely."

"Bad Demons! Let's go right now!"

Galahad chuckled at her spirited cry.

"Now, hold out your wrists."

Galahad tilted the canteen over each of their wrists.

"Rub your wrists together, then rub them below your ears."

So the scent of blood would spread thickly around them.

* * *

Tom swallowed hard as he looked around.

A little distance away, a huge demon-beast passed with a growl. The problem was that he had to act nonchalant even with a demon-beast right beside him.

And it wasn't just the beasts.

'Are these all Demons?'

Beautiful women and handsome men were everywhere. They all had striking looks and neat clothes, but their faces were expressionless, as though they had no emotions.

All Tom could do was keep his eyes lowered as much as possible.

Gilberton's sword was half drawn. Even Adrianna had a hand on her hilt.

Everyone was wound tight, yet Galahad strolled at the head of the group without a care. He even exchanged greetings with Demons along the way.

The demon-beasts avoided him.

At last, they reached an enormous gate. Carved from thick stone, it was covered in bizarre patterns.

"I'd like to steal it."

At Galahad's perfectly serious mutter, Tom swallowed hard.

A huge, two-headed demon-beast stood before the gate. A Demon was tossing it something, apparently feeding it.

Chunks of flesh, dripping blood.

As the beast tore into them with relish, Tom desperately fought down his rising nausea.

The Demon feeding it turned toward them. It was neatly dressed like a noble, but skulls hung all around its waist, as though it were a noble showing off jewels.

Galahad approached it without a care.

Eyes fixed on them from every direction at once.

'It's over. We're really done for.'

Tom screamed inwardly.

Galahad and the Demon stood face-to-face. The beast beside the Demon sniffed at Galahad, then quietly backed away.

Galahad greeted the Demon casually.

"Working hard, I see."

As though greeting a guard at a city gate.

'... That's the plan?'

Screaming inwardly, Tom tightened his grip on his shield.

Gilberton eased his sword out of its sheath. Tom's heart felt ready to burst from the mounting tension.

Then—