Chapter 28 - Isn't This a Little Excessive? (4)

Three days after obtaining the Ring of the Arrogant and immediately beginning preparations to head north, the knights and soldiers were finally ready to march. The expedition set out for the north as soon as preparations were complete.

Only a few hours after their departure, a man approached Deus.

"Deus Makalian."

With long blue hair and a vertical scar on his face, he was Piola, one of Callivan's Master Knights and the man known as the Fourth Sword.

"You laid hands on my disciple."

Piola's expression was utterly cold, and he made no attempt to hide the anger in his eyes. Deus answered without emotion.

"Your disciple behaved insolently toward my benefactor."

"Ha! You think that justifies beating someone else's disciple senseless?"

"And you think it doesn't?"

"..."

Piola scowled at his reply.

Anger was plainly written across his face. The mana pouring from him quickly engulfed their surroundings, bringing cold sweat to the knights' faces. Yet Deus, who bore the full brunt of that mana and killing intent, merely said,

"Consider yourself lucky I didn't kill him, Piola."

Then he unleashed even more chilling purple mana, bearing down on Piola.

The tension was so palpable that the first sword drawn seemed certain to trigger a bloodbath. But after a moment, Piola turned away first.

"Tch."

Clicking his tongue, he averted his gaze, then looked at Count Pallatio behind Deus.

"... Don't think this is over."

With those final words, he returned to his resting troops.

Watching him leave, Alon thought,

'Scary as hell.'

His hands tingled as he watched Piola retreat into the distance, and he unconsciously clenched and unclenched his fists.

'So that's a Master Knight.'

Merely releasing mana in a surge of emotion had been enough to leave Alon momentarily breathless. As that thought crossed his mind, Evan swore beside him, cold sweat trickling down his face. He, too, seemed to have felt the Master Knight's power.

"Holy shit... What a monster."

Alon glanced at him, then turned his attention back to Deus.

Even from this distance, the mana had made Alon's entire body tingle. Seeing Deus endure it head-on without so much as a change in expression reminded him anew that Deus was a Master Knight.

Not that he usually forgot, of course. But Deus had been so deferential toward him lately that seeing this side of him felt rather refreshing.

'... Well, he does seem to act like an asshole to everyone except me.'

He really was born to be one of the Five Great Sins. Alon gave a small nod, recalling both the rumors he had heard a few days earlier and Deus telling Evan, ["Keep it down, old man."]

'Was saving his little sister the right answer after all?'

At first, Alon had not understood why Deus was so willing to do everything he asked. Now, however, he had a vague idea.

Actually, there was hardly any need to guess. The way Deus treated his little sister made the answer obvious.

'Well, well. If I get into trouble later on while living as a count, would he come running to help the moment I call?'

Alon found himself inwardly grinning at the thought, though his face remained impassive. Still, even he knew Deus would hardly go that far for him. He gave a light shrug and returned to the carriage.

The expedition north continued.

####

Two weeks and three days later, the expedition crossed the border between Callivan and the north and reached the first outpost established beyond it. There, they received three pieces of news.

The first was that Delman, the Third Sword, was dead. Nothing had been heard from him since reports arrived that Callivan's eastern outpost had fallen and an Outer God had appeared.

The second was that Kyriana, the Second Sword, had suffered grave injuries fighting the Outer God. She had set out on her expedition before the other two and was stationed at the western forward base.

And the final piece of news...

"... The undead?"

The Outer God was approaching the outpost with an army of the dead.

"Yes. The Outer God is turning the soldiers and knights it kills into undead and taking them along."

At the messenger's words, Piola let out a deep sigh and muttered,

"This is troubling."

"..."

Deus, who was listening alongside him, also chose to remain silent.

If the messenger's report was true, the military situation decidedly favored their enemy.

"..."

"..."

Silence hung over the conference room. Neither the Master Knights nor the nobles commanding the soldiers dared speak rashly.

"... Perhaps we should retreat for now?"

One noble cautiously offered his opinion, and in an instant, suggestions began pouring forth.

"Are you serious? You want us to turn our backs on the barbarians and flee?"

"That's not what I'm saying! The situation is against us, so we should bide our time! Even the Second Sword is reportedly in critical condition, and Reinhardt hasn't returned from seclusion. What chance do we have of winning?"

"With this many wounded, do you honestly think they can escape the barbarians advancing on the outpost!?"

The conference room became an uproar in moments. In the end, however, the nobles' opinions carried little weight.

The expedition's leaders were the two Master Knights.

After debating for some time, the nobles finally turned to Piola and Deus.

"... Let us think this over. We will reconvene shortly. For now, everyone should take some time to cool their heads."

With that, Piola rose from his seat. Deus likewise stood without a word, turned, and left the tent.

Outside, the land appeared as gray as ever.

"..."

Yet to Deus, who had reached a level as a Master Knight where he could perceive mana's tangible forms, that gray landscape looked entirely different.

A crimson snowfield.

At least, that was how the gray world appeared to Deus.

Ominous red mana ate away at the sky. He silently surveyed that strange world, beautiful yet horrifying, which made even him shrink back inwardly.

After glancing at Piola, who would be witnessing the same sight, he turned his attention elsewhere.

There stood Alon—the Great Moon.

Despite having this horrifying world before him, Alon's eyes betrayed no change in emotion. He was absently warming himself by a fire and eating a sweet potato.

Unlike Deus, whose gaze was drawn to the crimson world whenever he turned his head, Alon spared it not a single glance. Instead, he ate and muttered something to himself.

"Diffraction, condensation, single point, annihilation—"

The Great Moon murmured words Deus could not understand, as though he had seen worlds like this countless times before.

As Deus stared blankly at him, curiosity stirred—not only about the words Alon was muttering, but also about his purpose in coming north.

Of course, he had some inkling that the Great Moon had come to deal with the Outer God. Even so, that did not dispel all his questions.

After all, judging dispassionately, the Great Moon before him did not appear to possess particularly great power, either now or in the past.

'Perhaps he simply cannot see any of this...'

Deus glanced up at the crimson sky.

Only those who had reached the necessary level and awakened their sight could see this scene. The horrifying view was enough to make him instinctively frown.

But what if Alon simply could not see it?

Then the Great Moon's behavior made a certain amount of sense.

Just as he was thinking that...

"Oh, just piss off already!"

Deus turned toward the sudden shrill shout. A knight and a mage stood facing one another in a standoff.

"Please, we're asking you to do just a little more! You know how serious the situation is!"

"What does that matter? No matter how hard I try, there's nothing more I can do! And I have to go!"

"Still, just once more...!"

"I told you, I can't, you thickheaded idiots!!"

The mage screamed hysterically, yet the knights stubbornly continued to crowd around her.

Their armor made it easy for Deus to recognize them as members of Silver Shadow, the knightly order serving Kyriana, Callivan's Second Sword. At the same time, he recognized the woman facing them.

'... The Blue Magic Tower's deputy tower master?'

It was Penia.

"Seriously, I was dragged out here for research, and I've already got plenty to do! Why do you have to be so damn clingy?!"

"But surely a person's life comes first...!"

"I'm telling you, I've already finished treating her, and as far as I'm concerned, there's nothing more I can do! Don't you understand? It's not that I don't want to do it! I've done everything I can!"

Deus watched the girl's hysterics in bewilderment. She was hailed as the rising star of the magical world, a once-in-a-generation genius, a prodigy who had reached the sixth tier at a young age. Then it made sense to him.

He remembered that Callivan's outpost housed a facility established in cooperation with the Blue Magic Tower's mages to study the barbarians' "rituals."

'The deputy tower master... She's strong.'

As he recalled this, Deus took a moment to consider the extraordinary power emanating from her.

"Anyway, stop asking me for more and just keep an eye on her! And get out of my way! I have to go!"

Penia irritably shoved past the knights. Seeing Deus standing in her path, she scowled and began to speak—

"What are you—"

—but the words failed her.

"...looking at?"

"...?"

Deus regarded her sudden vacant expression with puzzlement. Then he realized she was not looking at him, but at someone behind him.

"W-why...?"

Her voice was unmistakably bewildered, and stark fear began to show in her eyes.

She looked as though she had seen something that should never exist. She was even trembling faintly.

Deus naturally followed her gaze.

There was Alon.

"...?"

Having been chewing on a sweet potato until moments ago, he was now staring in confusion at Deus and Penia's contrasting expressions.

A moment later...

"It's been a while, Deputy Tower Master."

"Y-yes, yes! Hello...!"

"Have you been well?"

"I-I've been very well...!"

Deus stared blankly. The hysterical manner of Penia, whom he had clearly recognized as powerful, had vanished without a trace. Now she stood with her head bowed low, shrinking into herself like a cat abandoned by the roadside.

'Was I simply ignorant?'

... Deus quietly reflected on his own shortcomings.