Chapter 144 - The Mask

Shaperia roared and swung her sword. Its brilliant white arc swept sideways, and Maphel’tan immediately retreated to put distance between them.

'W-wait.'

He had clearly moved beyond her reach, yet the translucent killing force was still bearing down on him.

'No way!'

Sword energy extended from Shaperia's blade. Maphel’tan immediately raised Turabak, and it struck the fell spear.

CLAAANG!

A clear metallic clash rang out. The tremendous recoil drove Maphel’tan backward, sending him straight through the tent and out into the open.

In the dark night, the pitch-black Demon skidded across the snow, gouging a deep furrow in his wake. He regained his stance and looked ahead. Shaperia was slowly emerging from the tent.

His red eyes wavered as he watched her.

'She's already capable of projecting aura?'

It had not even been three months since Shaperia awakened her aura. No human, however talented, should have been able to launch sword energy already. Even someone who progressed quickly could, at most, learn to circulate aura within their body in three months.

Shaperia was different. She could not only imbue her sword with aura, but also project sword energy beyond it. Everything Maphel’tan knew had been overturned.

'... Is that even possible?'

He could scarcely believe it.

As Maphel’tan struggled to deny reality, aura seeped into Shaperia's sword once more. Its translucent radiance shone alone in the night. Her eyes blazed like the sun.

"White Horn!"

She swung her sword. A sharp ripple surged toward Maphel’tan.

He immediately spun his fell spear like a windmill, intending to use the spear-spinning technique he had learned from Hakain. The weapon traced pitch-black arcs in every direction. Wind pressure howled around it, sending snow flying.

The instant the sword energy touched the fell spear, Maphel’tan vanished.

'This won't work.'

He abandoned the spear-spinning technique and took flight. With its target gone, the sword energy cleaved empty air. Snow billowed in every direction.

Maphel’tan looked down at Shaperia from the night sky. It was time to accept reality. She truly was a knight capable of projecting aura. Her overwhelming talent belonged to a realm beyond the greatest.

"Ha!"

An incredulous laugh escaped him. The card he had once considered discarding had turned out to be a joker. Had he discovered her talent too late, he would have regretted it for years to come.

'Shaperia, you're mine forever.'

A satisfied smile spread across Maphel’tan's face.

Shaperia spoke with contempt on her face.

"White Horn, what's that revolting grin for?"

Maphel’tan's mouth stretched into a wide smile.

"To think a treasure like you would fall into my hands. You've made me very proud."

Shaperia bit her lip.

"You damned Demon. Wagging that wicked tongue again."

She assumed a sword-drawing stance.

Maphel’tan waved his hands with feigned innocence.

"Wait, wait, Shaperia. Cool your head. I haven't come to fight you."

Shaperia would not listen to a Demon's voice. No one taught by the Church would.

The First Principle of the Church of the Great Saint: Do not heed a Demon's whispers. Listen to their words, and you will find yourself heading into the Abyss.

That precept had taken root in her heart as an unshakable conviction. Shaperia gripped her sword hilt tightly.

"I do nothing but strike down the evil before me. White Horn, I have no interest in your purpose."

Just as she was about to swing, a chilling voice slipped from Maphel’tan's lips.

"Even if it concerns Yohan Miyatro, the Watcher of the Abyss?"

Shaperia stopped short. She frowned and glared at him.

"... What did you just say?"

Maphel’tan gave a sinister smile.

"Your master, Yohan Miyatro, is in danger."

Shaperia's face twisted like an evil spirit's. An enormous roar burst from her.

"Don't you dare speak of my lord with that filthy mouth!"

She kicked off the ground and leaped into the air. Her blade slashed upward, trailing transparent aura. Maphel’tan suddenly vanished. Instead, her sword split the hem of night in two.

Shaperia frowned in midair. Every trace of Maphel’tan's presence had disappeared, leaving her thoroughly bewildered.

She landed and looked around. Maphel’tan was nowhere to be found. Not even a high-ranking knight's keen senses could detect him.

Shaperia bit her lip. At that very moment, the aura she had spread around her caught a presence. She whirled around to find Maphel’tan standing there, looking surprised.

He spoke with admiration.

"It seems it would be difficult to ambush a warrior of your caliber even with Night Immersion."

The instant Maphel’tan released his power, Night Immersion, Shaperia had reacted to his presence. Her senses and reflexes far surpassed anything common sense allowed.

Had he emerged from Night Immersion to ambush her with a spear thrust, she would have blocked his attack the moment he attempted it. Night Immersion did not make him invincible. Maphel’tan had learned another lesson today.

Shaperia quickly put distance between them, her face guarded.

"... How in the world?"

Maphel’tan's presence had vanished completely, then reappeared. Had it been mere concealment, her senses would surely have detected him. Yet she had sensed nothing, for Night Immersion allowed him to merge completely with the night.

Maphel’tan chuckled.

"Well, like this?"

He vanished again. This time he appeared beside her, then immediately disappeared once more. He kept appearing and disappearing behind her, above her head, and in the sky.

Shaperia's eyes kept following his afterimages. Irritated, she muttered,

"Such pathetic little tricks."

His chilling voice echoed from every direction, from all manner of places.

"You can't kill me anyway. Why not stop wasting our strength and have a conversation?"

Shaperia shouted as though she were coughing up blood.

"I do not converse with Demons!"

The Demon's mocking laughter rang out.

"You are no longer a holy knight. You are a knight who serves one man alone: your lord. What is your duty as a knight? Merely to refuse all compromise with Demons? If you think so, you are wrong. A knight must be prepared to sacrifice anything for their lord. You must be willing to abandon even your convictions to keep him safe. Did you become a knight without even that much resolve? No, are you truly a knight at all?"

The whispers burrowed into Shaperia's mind. Groaning, she swung her sword wildly.

"Filthy Demon! Stop your whispering!"

A sinister laugh rang out.

"The Watcher of the Abyss faces an unprecedented danger. The Apostle Beris has set his sights on him. That vicious lingering will circles the Watcher, bringing him misfortune. If you are truly a knight, shouldn't you strike down the evil threatening your lord? Wouldn't slaying the Apostle Beris be the right thing to do?"

Shaperia's gaze wavered.

"... The Apostle Beris."

She had encountered Beris before. It was none other than Shaperia who had awakened as an angel and cut him down. She still remembered that horrific malice. His bottomless evil remained etched in her mind.

Maphel’tan kept talking.

"Yes, Beris. He inscribed a contract spell on the worldline to ensure your lord suffers misfortune all his life. You must punish him. You must tear every fragment of his soul to shreds and prove your loyalty to your lord."

Shaperia's thoughts were hopelessly tangled.

"White Horn! Why are you telling me this?!"

Maphel’tan walked slowly toward her.

"Because I, too, desire Beris's annihilation. In short, your lord's interests align with mine. The problem is your lord himself. He wouldn't listen to me. I alone know where Beris is, yet the Watcher of the Abyss refuses even to speak with me."

Shaperia sneered contemptuously.

"Of course he does. My lord does not compromise with evil."

Maphel’tan nodded.

"Indeed. He is far too inflexible. That is why I came to find you. Won't you persuade the Watcher of the Abyss on my behalf? It's a very simple task. All you need to do is tell him to hear me out."

The transcendent being who governed every contract in the world had engraved Yohan's misery upon the worldline as an inviolable law. Unless that contract spell was undone, Yohan would inevitably be ruined.

Shaperia understood this. During her time in the Church, she had read many ancient books about interdictions. If everything Maphel’tan said was true, then as a knight, she had to strike Beris down.

She glared at him, her gaze trembling.

"... What exactly are you after?"

Maphel’tan shrugged.

"Well, world peace?"

"... What?"

"Ask your lord for the details. I've already told him."

Maphel’tan spread his enormous wings and suddenly took to the air. Shaperia cried out urgently.

"W-wait! Where are you going?!"

An ominous voice filled the night sky.

"My business here is done. What you decide now is entirely up to you. I do hope you choose wisely."

Maphel’tan's form vanished. He merged with the night and dispersed. Left alone, Shaperia stood rigid for a long time.

* * *

Several days flew by. Riding day and night, Shaperia reached the lord's castle in the Miyatro demesne. Without even removing her arms, she went straight to find Raguel.

The office door burst open.

"Young mas—!"

Startled, Shaperia immediately dropped to one knee. Instead of the young master, Raguel, Yohan was seated in the office. He spoke in a rather listless voice.

"Shaperia. It's been a while."

Shaperia bowed her head low.

"I greet you, my lord. But what brings you here?"

Yohan should have been in the royal capital, yet here he was at the castle. An inexplicable unease swept over her.

Yohan spoke.

"Something came up. More importantly, why have you returned?"

He had expressly ordered her not to return until she had cleared the entire frontier. Yet Shaperia had disobeyed her lord's command to come back to the castle. To her, the matter was far too urgent to delay even a moment.

"W-well..."

Yohan frowned.

"I believe I asked you why."

For some reason, he was much more irritable than usual. Deep shadows lay beneath his eyes, and his expression was pitch-dark. Anyone could see he was consumed by worry and misery.

Shaperia's heart pounded. Had White Horn really been telling the truth? Was Beris making her lord waste away?

She could not hide her agitation. Looking close to tears, she said,

"My lord, a few days ago, I encountered the Thirteenth Apostle of the End."

Yohan's face contorted at once. He clenched a sheaf of papers on the table, crumpling them in his fist.

"... That wicked bastard dared to get his claws into even my knight?"

His hatred and fury toward the Demon were plain to see. Shaperia felt utterly wretched. Now she had to persuade this devout lord of hers.

How could she possibly do it?

She had no confidence that she could.