Chapter 275 - What Lay Inside the Cavern?

Esther had seen Encrid's gaze sweep over Kaisella from head to toe. She had spent so long watching him that the glance did not escape her. Kaisella wore clothes that plainly displayed her figure. Her face wasn't ugly, either, but that was all. She might measure up in a Frog's eyes, but not in Esther's. She fell short. 'No, that Frog called Meellun simply had exceptionally low standards.' Encrid had told her about it in casual conversation on the way here, so she knew what the Frog called Meellun had said. She also knew what sort of place this village was. That was why she had detected the prepared spell in advance and finished making her own preparations within. Esther regarded her opponent with indifferent eyes. Her looks were one thing, but what was she playing at with that vicious spell? So she had meant to burn that man's hair, or whatever else, with it. In truth, the lightning spell could not have killed Encrid. It was prepared magic, but his body could now withstand it. Above all, Esther herself had placed several safeguards on his new armor. Did that mean she should forgive someone who had done such a thing? Esther had never had much use for the word "forgiveness." Whatever her opponent tried, she interfered with each manifestation of the spell world, dismantling and scattering it. Mana gathered, only to disperse. Kaisella's insides were already twisted from having to unsummon a spell reflected by Banna's Mirror. As her spells failed one after another, her face grew pale. When Esther reached her, Kaisella drew a dagger hidden at her waist and thrust it at her, shouting, "Shoot her!" The crossbowmen who had been standing in indecision reacted. Without a trace of concern, Esther struck Kaisella's dagger hand at the wrist. She revealed the most useful thing she had gained from her curse: a knife-hand strike backed by a panther's strength. As the straightened edge of her hand struck the wrist, the crack of breaking bone rang out clearly. Under a force those slender hands should never have possessed, Kaisella's wrist bent and hung limp. "Aah!" The woman who had ruled the village through terror screamed, and Encrid was already moving to block the bolts the startled crossbowmen fired. He knocked two aside with his sword and caught a third in midair. The watching bandits turned deathly pale at the sight of him plucking a projectile out of the air. How could they possibly take on someone like that? "You'd better stay put while I'm still letting you live." Encrid spoke quietly. Trembling, the bandits all dropped their weapons. A few of the quicker-witted ones slipped away. There were too many to chase down individually, so he let them go. Esther took the dagger from Kaisella's hand and made it a brooch over her heart. The blade sank deep, piercing and tearing her heart, and Kaisella choked out a question. "Why, why?" Why was a mage of her caliber here? That was what she meant. "That is none of your concern," Esther murmured with a smile. She felt a little satisfaction. Encrid, who had been watching, approached. "You're good in a fight, aren't you?"

"I am." At her matter-of-fact answer, Encrid nodded and looked around. The mage had appeared, and just as he had gritted his teeth and prepared to fight, Esther had shown up and done everything herself. That wasn't a bad thing. There was nothing wrong with her stepping forward because she wanted to. Encrid considered Esther another member of his command. Whatever she did, she would be better than Rem. Some had lost the will to fight, some were in shock from being burned by lightning, and some simply stared blankly. Then, from farther back: "Everyone, drop your weapons!" He saw the Fairy Company Commander's troops enter the village, surrounding the area as they moved in. As he wondered how they had known to arrive at this moment, a man who looked to be a Platoon Commander hurried toward him. The man kept glancing around, visibly bewildered.

"Everyone, uh, everyone... Huh? Er, hmm. You've already dropped your weapons?" He blurted out whatever came to mind as he passed, utterly baffled. Bewildered or not, did he expect an answer from the enemy? "... He told us to." Apparently, he did get an answer. A man charred black down his right arm and beyond muttered it. His eyes darted about desperately, looking for a way to survive. "You dropped them just because he said so?" the Platoon Commander asked. Encrid wondered what sort of exchange this was. He simply stared at the side of the Platoon Commander's head, where the hair was cropped short enough to show skin. From the Platoon Commander's perspective, it was utterly baffling. He had been watching the village from a distance when the number of torches suddenly increased. Judging that something was wrong, he had advanced his troops on his own initiative. On the way, several flashes of what appeared to be magical lightning struck within the village, prompting him to hurry. Yet when they finally entered, everything was over before they had even begun. A mere handful of people had turned the village upside down. There seemed to have been a bandit who used magic, but the suspected mage lay dead with a dagger in her heart. In any case, the survivors had lost the will to fight, and everyone else was dead. That was everything he could see. The Platoon Commander did not know the full story, but he knew one thing.

'They're terrifying.' He had always found his own Company Commander surprisingly frightening. But there were people here who frightened him even more. "Shall I pluck out your eyes?" The words came when his gaze involuntarily strayed to a glimpse of skin between the folds of a robe. Black hair, red lips, blue eyes. An air of mystery, moonlight falling over her, a curving figure. Everything about her caught the eye. Any man would have looked. But even that brief glance drew a murderous response. "He's on our side. You can't pluck them out."

"Then may I burn them?"

"You can't do that, either."

"Then I'll only blind one eye."

"Couldn't you just cover yourself properly?"

"How disappointing. You're saying his eyes aren't the problem?" In truth, Esther was awkward with human affairs, and just about everything else. As they spoke, Encrid thought that taking her in and teaching her would be hard work, too. In any case: "I looked, too. Are you going to pluck out my eyes?"

"You're an exception."

"What?"

"Nothing." Esther pretended to think for a moment, then shook her head. After that, she nodded her agreement to leave his eyes alone. With a small sigh, Encrid gestured with his eyes toward the Platoon Commander.

"Clean this up and tie them all up."

"... Huh? Yes, sir. But where are you going?"

"Farther in." Neither Pin nor Jaxon nor Sinar had returned. They would have gone inside. The village chief's house at the center of the village was quite large. It looked like a good place to hide things. "I smell spells." Esther said it, and Encrid also felt that something lay there. She strode forward confidently, and he moved to her side. "Do you know where you're going?" He asked just in case she was like Ragna.

"Do you take me for a witless idiot who can't even find her way?" So that was what she thought of Ragna. Keeping that thought to himself, Encrid answered, "No, you're not that sort of idiot." The two headed farther into the village, while the Platoon Commander surveyed the remaining enemies and shouted, "Try anything, and I'll start by plucking out your eyes!" Having brought the area under control, he and his soldiers began binding the remaining bandits. By then, Sinar, Jaxon, and Pin were already inside the burrow dug beneath the village center. A few things the mage had prepared remained inside. Ghouls and wolf-men, for instance. Naturally, they were no match for the three, and all were sliced, slashed, hacked apart, and killed. When the three reached the interior, they found a scene of horror almost beyond words. "Grrrrr. Drugs. Give me drugs." One of the people who made up that scene murmured. There was someone whose fingernails had all torn loose from scratching at the wall, blood streaming from their hands. There was a child collapsed among them, drooling. There was nothing to call it but a scene of horror.

* * *

There were Ghoul corpses, wolf-men with their heads and arms severed, and a couple of human-faced hounds. From the collars around their necks, it seemed the people here had used them as guard dogs. Those hounds, too, had been cleaved neatly in half. A trail marked by monster blood, perhaps. The village chief's house had an unusual layout. Inside was a sloping passage: a tunnel leading underground. It felt like a huge cave. There was no airflow, but the interior seemed quite spacious.

'A large cave with no way through.'

An ideal place to do strange things. Encrid and Esther entered. Torches along the walls made it easy to see. Examining the monster corpses, he recognized signs of Sinar's and Jaxon's handiwork.

'Looks like they cut their way through nicely.' They arrived at a fairly large cavern. Sinar, Pin, and Jaxon were already inside. "You're here early," Jaxon said.

Encrid sensed something slightly unnatural in his tone. Several more tunnels led off the cavern, and he noticed sections blocked by iron bars. He also saw the people behind them. They looked half out of their minds. Encrid approached. As he did, he noticed an unfamiliar older man muttering to himself. He had a stubborn-looking face: a hooked nose, sunken cheeks, prominent cheekbones, and small eyes. He looked as though he would be difficult to deal with. "I told you to shut up." Pin stood right in front of him, her dagger gleaming menacingly in the torchlight, yet he merely stuck out his lips in a sulk. Little light reached the interior. Encrid took a torch from the wall and shone it inside. "Drugs, drugs, do you have drugs? Huh? Give me some. I'll, huh? I'll be good to you." The woman was so emaciated that her chest looked caved in. One look at her eyes told him everything. She was not merely high; there was no reason left in her at all. Left like this, she would spend the rest of her life searching for drugs until she died. "Huh? Do you have any?" Hers was one of the better cases. A man was scratching at the wall despite his broken, torn fingernails and the crusted blood on his hands. Someone had gouged out his eyes. A child lay beside him, drool trailing from its mouth. Encrid knew the child was already dead. He could feel none of the vitality that marked a living person. The chest did not rise or fall. He could hear no breathing. "That child was alive just a little while ago," Pin murmured behind him. Sinar was busy searching the surroundings. She was a Fairy; horrific scene or not, she faithfully did her work. She found things hidden here and there. "Hey! Do you have any idea what that is? Don't touch it!" the hook-nosed older man shouted. All the while, Encrid continued examining the tunnels. Every one of them, silently and without a word. "Leave it alone!" Sinar ignored him. Seeing Pin's eyes turn cold, the older man could go no further. However stubborn he was, how could he lash out when a blade might come flying at him? Still, he seemed to have something to fall back on. He gave a quiet snort, folded his arms, and turned sharply away. Sinar continued handling one thing after another. Encrid saw something strange in the next tunnel. It was a person, but half of its eyes were an odd color. Dull, colorless eyes without pupils. Black eyes, and thighs with distinctly separated strands of muscle. "What is this?" he asked without looking away. "Ah, that's a failure," the older man answered indifferently. "A failure?"

"It stopped halfway."

"It was originally human?"

"Why even ask?" Encrid watched it in silence, then swung his sword. Passing between the bars, the blade killed the wheezing human that was half Ghoul. There were several such things in the tunnels. "The wolf-men we saw on the way were much the same." Jaxon's voice was indifferent, and therefore sounded colder than usual. Encrid turned his head back. His feet moved, too. He showed neither anger nor grief. Pin watched him. Was he not angry because it was already done, and could no longer be undone? Or was his reaction like the Fairy's? Was he keeping what had happened separate from himself, refusing to see it as a horror? This incident had shown Pin particularly clearly how Sinar differed from humans. She had displayed no emotion at the gruesome sight. "The bastard deserves to be torn apart." After that single remark, she had gone about her work. She checked each detail of their original purpose here: the drugs, and whether any nobles were connected to them. Finding clues here would be good. Then they would know whom to punish. Though Pin did not know whether finding them would mean they could simply kill them as they pleased. Encrid walked over with steady steps. Pin watched him, blade in hand. Jaxon stood behind her, but he had no intention of killing the man. On arriving, he had asked a few questions, listened to the answers, and stepped back. He seemed to consider it none of his concern. Pin's heart ached. It had ached at the sight of the dead child, and at the drug-addled woman. Imagining the screams that must have echoed here and the terrible things that had happened tormented her. She wanted to cut down this so-called alchemist, but it was not her decision to make. He was quite famous. His name was known throughout the kingdom. Raban the alchemist. A man who could not create gold from nothing, but who was said to have practically no equal in making reagents. "Listen, I was forced into it, too. Black Blade made me do it." Raban muttered the words. What had he sensed? He said it as Encrid came right up to him. Esther, transformed from panther to human, watched Encrid silently. No, it was not just Esther. Everyone turned to him. Jaxon, too, and Sinar, who stopped what she was doing. What would he do? Merely taking the man into custody and handing him over to the kingdom would count as distinguished service. His value lay not just in his body, but in his mind. Why not use this opportunity to put him in their debt? He was an alchemist, after all. He might give them healing potions, which were as good as spare lives. He had experimented on humans, but was that wrong? How many of the continent's foremost alchemists had never used human bodies as test subjects? Besides, hadn't Black Blade made him do it? If someone died by a blade, then, should vengeance fall upon the blade? Or upon the person wielding it? Encrid looked into the man's eyes. They were rotten to the core, without the slightest trace of guilt.