Chapter 35 - A Night of Counting Stars (9)

“Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace!!”

“Stop spouting nonsense and focus!!”

Eugene was still hacking down at the elves, his eyes blazing blue. Judging by the bursts of pure white light exploding from his sword tip with every strike, his “god” seemed quite pleased with his prayers, too.

But however talented they might be, they were still students. Being exceptionally skilled for their year did not change the fundamental difference in their experience.

“They’re pushing us back! We’re losing ground!!”

“I know! Hold on!”

Oswald and Yuri gritted their teeth, their hands constantly in motion. Their attacks were blocked at every turn, and they could see no way to break through the troops advancing in a tight defensive formation.

These soldiers had served through the war against the demons. Peace had arrived a mere four years ago. However lax they had grown, they were still soldiers who remembered their days of active combat.

In short, they were far too elite to serve as the first opponents of twenty-first-century Possessors with almost no combat experience.

Had the goal been to kill them from the outset, the battle would have ended long ago. The boatswain chuckled and called out.

“Students? Why don’t you call it a day and put down your weapons?”

“When the hell is Ivan getting here?!”

Just as Yuri’s tearful screams were growing shriller, the deck began to shake.

RRRRUMBLE...!

“What...?!”

“The wheelhouse! Get to the wheelhouse! What’s happening? Watchman!”

“Where’s the captain?!”

The keel groaned and creaked beneath them, and an impact powerful enough to suggest the hull had exploded slammed into the deck.

Soldiers and Possessors alike staggered or fell, tumbling across the floor.

“What is this?”

“Did Ivan do that...?”

Oswald was bracing himself against the floor when his head suddenly shot up. He could see an immense flow of mana... No, a flow of mana manipulated with extraordinary finesse.

Dark-green mana swirled into the cabins in a torrent. The booming explosions drew steadily closer.

“No, it’s not Ivan. This is...”

Oswald narrowed his eyes. A moment later, dense mana gathered in the middle of the deck.

“Get away!!”

KABOOOOM!!

Yuri hurled aside Eugene, who had gone wild under the courage buff, grabbed Oswald by the scruff of his neck, and leaped backward. A huge crack split the middle of the deck, and something shot out.

The object twisted in midair, righted itself, and landed beside the Possessors. The landing was so clean it might have been measured with a ruler.

“Ivan!”

“Mm.”

An acrid, scorched smell rose from Ivan’s body. Axe in hand, he calmly looked straight ahead.

“Excellent! To have honed your will to this degree in a world where peace has been preserved under glass!”

“L-Lord Veolgrin?!”

The sailors’ eyes widened as though they might pop out. Ivan narrowed his at their reaction. What was this? Had he deceived even his fellow elves?

Why bother? If the Kallion archipelago had intended to support Alexander as a nation, there would have been no need for such a pointlessly underhanded approach.

“Uh, Ivan. Could you explain what’s going on here...?”

Oswald stared in confusion at Veolgrin floating in the air. As an elf, he had met Veolgrin several times. He was an incredible... a truly overwhelming mage.

And that very being was now hovering above their heads, preparing offensive spells.

“Was I a little short?”

“You almost succeeded.”

Veolgrin looked down at Ivan with amusement on his face. He had lost one arm. He owed Sir August an apology for that. With a rueful smile, he spoke.

“Your appearance was unexpected, but, well... I seem to have provoked Princess Elizaveta more than I intended. I had meant to slip in and out under friendlier circumstances.”

As he raised his remaining hand, dark-green mana swirled thickly around it. Ivan watched steadily, readying his axe for a throw.

If even one of the Possessors could draw Veolgrin’s attention, he might have a chance of victory.

But neither the battlefield nor the circumstances favored him.

“We will meet again someday. Circumstances are unfavorable at present.”

“Veolgrin.”

“How much do you know about Crown Prince Alexander? Do you remain loyal to your sovereign even knowing ‘that’?”

“... What?”

Veolgrin waved his hand. Powerful mana coalesced into the shape of a grasping hand and lifted the carriage lodged in a corner of the deck.

A commotion arose inside the carriage, followed by screams. Soon, the door clattered open.

“Come out.”

“W-What is all this commotion...! W-We came to conclude a secret agreement...!”

“Shh, shhh. Quiet.”

Veolgrin swept his remaining arm through the air. The middle-aged man who had poked his head out of the carriage was pulled aloft by mana.

“So he didn’t come in person after all. What is your name?”

“N-Nikolai Slapanovo Rurik...! I-I have been granted full authority to act on behalf of this nation’s Foreign Ministry!! Y-You cannot harm me!”

“Oh, you seem not to know whom you are addressing.”

Veolgrin chuckled and slowly approached the man. Placing his right hand on the man’s head, he spoke in a near whisper.

“Tell me. Where is Crown Prince Alexander now?”

Dark-green mana swirled beneath his hand. It coiled like a snake, burrowing into the man’s ears and eyes.

Expression gradually drained from the man’s face. He murmured blankly.

“His Highness is waiting at the Foreign Ministry...”

“So you knew nothing. A waste of time.”

There was a crunch, and the man’s head drooped. Veolgrin flung him aside like a piece of garbage and slowly descended onto the deck.

“What is all this? Veolgrin, what were you planning?”

Ivan narrowed his eyes. Veolgrin had said he provoked Elizaveta to make contact with Alexander, so naturally Ivan had assumed that the Kallion archipelago was attempting to meddle in domestic affairs by supporting the Crown Prince.

The circumstances had allowed for no other conclusion.

Yet Veolgrin had abruptly killed the envoy. And he was asking where Crown Prince Alexander was?

“The crown prince currently in this city is not the man himself. Hmm... There is so much left for us to discuss, but it is difficult to put into words.”

Veolgrin opened and closed his mouth several times, then frowned.

“A binding. Unless you discover it yourself, I cannot tell you. Sadly, are we mages not those who weave the laws of heaven?”

“Why didn’t you say so from the beginning? If you never meant to sign a secret agreement with Alexander, if you had told me beforehand...”

“Then I could not have tested your worthiness. Nor could I have learned which side you stood on. I thought you were dead, remember? It was necessary.”

Veolgrin shrugged. His mana was slowly subsiding, growing faint.

“There is little time left. Come to my tower in Kallion someday. You probably won’t be able to meet me in person... but Ivan. Our scout. You are worthy.”

“Worthy of what?”

“Of turning the final page of the truth. Of seeing the hands above this game board. Ah, damn it.”

A crack split Veolgrin’s face. He felt his face once, then sighed.

“Not allowing me to tell you even this much is too cruel. Mages are talkative by nature, you know.”

“What should I do?”

“Prepare. The board for this game seems to be that university beneath our feet. Many warp threads are spread out down there.”

“Prepare...?”

“Those youngsters aren’t bad, but they weren’t pieces laid out from the start. They appeared suddenly on the chessboard... Yes. Playing cards, shall we say? So pay attention to the chess pieces as well. Look after my daughter.”

Veolgrin’s face gradually faded. Just before he vanished entirely, he looked straight at Ivan and mouthed something.

No voice reached him, but Ivan instinctively read his lips.

“Maximilien did not disappear.”

With a small smile, Veolgrin’s mana faded completely.

* * *

The citizens of Prizhenkaya remained unaware of the commotion on the deck. To them, the ship merely seemed to float quietly in the sky as usual.

With the terrified captain seeing them off, Ivan and the Possessors were able to return to the ground. Leaving the half-wrecked carriage in a corner of an alley, Ivan surveyed the Possessors.

A game board.

Cards on a chessboard. Was he to take that as games with different rules being mixed together?

What stories did these people need? What stories had been prepared, and what course was being steered?

Who was the hand above the board?

God?

Ivan looked at Eugene, who could use divine magic. Perhaps because the [Bestow Courage] buff had worn off, he wore a vacant expression on his utterly exhausted face.

“Those divine spell slots. Do you still have them?”

“Huh? Oh, yes, yes.”

“Mm.”

Unlike magic, divine spells were a kind of blessing bestowed directly by God. They enacted His will through a human body.

In other words, the existence of divine spell slots was tantamount to saying that Eugene’s “Status window” had God’s approval.

No, perhaps God... the personal deity of this damned premodern fantasy world, had created it as a means of communication.

Especially considering that it even included something as verbose as a Quest window.

“You all worked hard tonight. Go back and rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Uh, Boss. That’s it? We’re just done?”

“Tomorrow.”

Ivan glanced over the departing Possessors, then turned away.

He could hardly bring them along to make his report. Especially in this case, they must not become any more deeply involved.

Had this merely been a matter of being caught in the political struggle between the Princess and Crown Prince, it would have been better to choose a side and secure a decisive victory.

But now that he had heard the crown prince in Prizhenkaya was not the real one, this had gone beyond anything students could resolve.

All the more so for children only four years into possession.

How many years had it been?

Ivan pondered the question as he walked through the nighttime streets.

Recalling the last time he had seen Colonel Kirillovna, Ivan headed for Counterintelligence Command.

It was time to face the Princess.