Chapter 29 - What Is a Duel Meant to Protect? (1)

Most members of Eclipse, the knightly order led by Deus Makalian, treated Alon with reverence. Naturally, however, they did so solely because he was Deus's benefactor.

In truth, most felt little more than indifference toward him. As far as Eclipse's knights could see, there was nothing particularly special about Alon apart from his being Deus's benefactor.

If any of them felt anything at all, it was the jealousy a few immature knights harbored after seeing how Deus treated him. Beyond that, they could scarcely be said to have any feelings toward him.

In other words, the knights' feelings toward Alon were hardly positive.

But at least at this moment...

"Deputy Tower Master, might I ask a favor of you?"

"Y-yes, yes... What sort of favor...?"

The knights could only gape blankly.

"Could you brew Remiteon's Potion for me?"

"Remiteon's... Potion?"

"Yes. Is that not possible?"

"N-no, of course it is! Absolutely...!"

Eclipse's knights looked astonished—and not only them. The Silver Shadow knights whom Penia had been berating just moments earlier wore the same expressions.

They knew that the deputy tower master before them had a personality every bit as appalling as her magical talent was brilliant.

And they were hardly the only ones who knew.

Any knight who had joined even a single expedition to the north could not possibly avoid hearing stories of "Hysterical Penia." For one thing, the Blue Magic Tower mages dispatched around the same time invariably began by lamenting her atrocious temper.

Knowing what a formidable personality Penia possessed, the knights watched as the exchange continued.

"Hmm. Then, just in case, do you happen to have any Reagent of Excellence, or could you make some?"

"Uh, um... I don't have any, but I think I could make it..."

"Then could you make that for me as well?"

"Um, but it takes quite a long time, and I have work of my own..."

"I really do need it."

"I-I'll do it. I'll absolutely do it...!"

They simply could not believe the scene before their eyes: Penia, deputy tower master of the Blue Magic Tower and a sixth-tier mage, obeying Count Pallatio so meekly.

No, it went beyond meek obedience. She was practically twisting herself into knots to avoid displeasing him. The knights could not believe it.

And naturally...

"Th-this is insane..."

The same went for the mages dispatched alongside Penia from the Blue Magic Tower, who had been suffering her constant harassment and shedding bitter tears of anguish.

"What... is that?"

"Am I hallucinating?"

"H-has the deputy tower master actually lost her mind?"

The mages stared at the scene, even gasping as though they were witnessing the end of the world.

"She made that once before and complained for weeks that it was so exhausting she'd never make it again... And now she's agreeing to make it?"

"I'm not seeing things, am I? Did someone cast an illusion spell as a prank?"

"Come on, man. We came here with the deputy tower master. We need to cast Silence on our ears, not waste time on illusions. Who has mana to spare?"

Their reaction went far beyond the knights' astonishment. Suspecting another mage might be playing a prank, they were even discreetly attempting Dispels with whatever mana they had left.

Then...

"Thank you."

"Not at all. Of course I should do it."

"How much will you need in payment?"

"P-payment?"

"Naturally, I should compensate you for the favor I've asked. Name your price, and I'll have it sent to the magic tower later."

"Ah, well—"

"Though if it's expensive, the payment may be delayed. My finances haven't been particularly good lately."

"Just... one gold coin, please."

"... One gold coin? Isn't that far too cheap?"

"No, it's fine...! Yes, it's perfectly fine...!"

"... In that case, I won't turn down your generosity."

As the crowning touch, Penia was still giggling despite being paid a mere gold coin for two potions that cost hundreds of gold coins to brew. The knights and mages stared blankly, then all turned their eyes toward Alon.

As surprise settled onto the knights' faces and something akin to awe appeared on the mages'...

'... She does seem to have misunderstood something after all, but at least it made getting the potions easy.'

With that thought, Alon returned to Evan.

"... My lord, since when have you been on such informal terms with the deputy tower master?"

"Hm? I simply speak that way because I'm a noble."

"What...? But... someone of a deputy tower master's standing is treated as a quasi-noble. I thought basic etiquette was to address each other formally...?"

"... Is that so?"

"Yes."

Realizing that he had been somewhat rude to Penia, Alon let out a quiet exclamation.

"Ah."

####

'That gives me all the cards I need to play right now.'

Not long afterward, Alon received the Leviteon's Potion and Reagent of Excellence he had requested from Penia. A few more hours later, Deus brought him news.

"We're retreating?"

"Yes."

Deus began explaining the current situation, and Alon gave a small nod as he listened.

'... They certainly didn't look fit to fight.'

Alon recalled the numerous wounded he had seen upon arriving at the outpost, along with the soldiers' faces steeped in terror.

'The knights seemed to be holding up better, but they didn't look particularly happy either.'

He remembered that the only people walking around with reasonably composed expressions had been the mages, who had come to investigate rituals rather than fight.

'And the mages... have already run for it.'

Alon glanced around. Unlike earlier, when mages had been bustling everywhere, none had been in sight since Penia delivered the potions.

As he thought of the mages who had hit the escape button as soon as they realized the outpost was in danger...

"What do you intend to do?"

At Deus's question, Alon answered without hesitation.

"Stay here."

The reason Alon had gone out of his way to visit Callivan, gathered so many items, and even secured the difficult loan of the Ring of the Arrogant from its royal family before coming north was to deal with the Outer God.

Unless he dealt with it before it became an incarnate god, the future he foresaw was utterly disastrous.

And so, as Alon reviewed the plan in his head...

"Aaaaaaah!!"

A horrific scream suddenly rang out in the distance. Alon hurriedly rose and rushed out of the tent.

"!"

He saw a mage screaming frantically, and other mages fleeing toward the forward base.

And behind them...

──■■■■■■■■■■!!

The walking dead were approaching.

"Th-the undead!"

"A-aaah!"

At the sight of the undead, soldiers screamed as though their recent nightmare had returned, while knights gathered at the gate and began drawing their swords.

Fear filled the soldiers' eyes, and confusion and alarm spread across the knights' faces at the sudden turn of events. Alon, however, had little difficulty guessing roughly what had happened.

'... An ambush...!'

Alon realized that the Outer God had moved faster than the fleeing mages expected and attacked them. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than Piola rushed out of the barracks.

"Everyone, draw your swords!"

With that shout, the battle began.

####

The undead, which blindly charge into battle without tactics or strategy, are inferior in combat to a well-trained army.

That was why, even when the continent's dark mages used necromancy to awaken the dead, their creations could never defeat well-trained soldiers.

But...

"S-save me!"

"A-aaaah!"

This army of undead was fundamentally different from those raised by dark mages.

"Die! Just die! Please!"

The soldiers drove their spears into the undead. Some pierced hearts, others heads, and others legs. Their spears pierced countless parts of the corpses.

Had these been corpses raised by a dark mage, the damage to their bodies was so severe that it would have been no surprise if they had already ceased functioning.

But...

"Grrrk..."

The undead kept walking forward with spears embedded throughout their bodies. The sight was more than enough to plant seeds of fear in the soldiers.

SHUNK!

"Gack—!"

A soldier died instantly when an undead's sword pierced his throat—and immediately attacked the soldier beside him.

"A-aaaaah!"

That was enough to make the seeds of fear planted deep in their instincts blossom.

The soldiers' ranks broke, and the battlefield descended into pandemonium in an instant. The mounting casualties rose as undead, creating the worst possible vicious cycle.

Yet even in that dire situation, the soldiers fought on with gritted teeth and wide, bloodshot eyes.

They did so because they still had hope.

The aura-wielding knights were cutting down the undead—which already numbered well into the thousands—at an overwhelmingly rapid pace. The mages who had belatedly joined the battle were reducing their numbers even faster.

And among them, Penia's magic was so extraordinary that "overwhelming" hardly did it justice.

"Icicle."

CRACK! CRAAACK!

Hundreds of undead advancing toward the soldiers froze in an instant and crumbled helplessly into fragments. It was a spectacular sight.

Yet the soldiers placed even greater hope than they did in Penia in the two Master Knights present: Piola and Deus.

And of the two, Deus's presence was truly overwhelming.

SWISH!

Dozens of undead swarmed around him. Some were soldiers with huge gashes in their heads; others were knights with holes in their chests.

Yet at some point, the hundreds of undead surrounding Deus all stopped walking at once.

As though time itself had frozen.

But then Deus gave the sword he had drawn a single light horizontal swing. The undead, motionless as though time had stopped, split cleanly in half.

Hundreds of corpses with a single strike.

At that overwhelming destructive power, befitting a superhuman who had transcended humanity, hope began to shine in the soldiers' and knights' eyes.

Then it—

BOOOM!

The Outer God dropped into the middle of the battlefield with a tremendous crash.

In an instant, the undead shifted their movements and the soldiers turned their eyes toward it.

The overwhelming, domineering power radiating from its mere presence brought unmistakable tension to Deus's and Piola's eyes.

Then the gray dust cleared, revealing a man, and everyone caught their breath.

It wore barbarian clothing, but its form could no longer be called that of a barbarian. Its body was too massive to be human, and its blue skin made it clear that the being before them was no longer confined within the bounds of humanity.

Then...

["Savages, do not recklessly ruin the punishment of those who know no honor."]

With the voice of that thing—Ultultus—the undead began to rise again.

The corpses Penia had shattered into fragments clung together like slime, regenerating their bodies. Those cut apart by Deus's sword regenerated as well.

At that moment...

SWISH!

Piola, who had remained silent until then, reached the Outer God in an instant.

It was a swift, decisive move, born of the instinctive realization that the moment the undead revived, they could no longer gain the upper hand in battle.

The fastest Master Knight in Callivan, possessed of the ability Godspeed, he thrust his sword in that fleeting instant before Ultultus could even react.

SHUNK!

The surprise thrust sank into Ultultus's heart.

"!"

Only the very tip did.

["Ha."]

Ultultus turned his gaze toward Piola. His face was filled with contempt.

["Savages lack even honor. One who does not uphold honor is no different from one who forsakes their own existence. And—"]

CRUNCH!

["They forsake even the nobility of their soul."]

THUD.

Piola's body, which had been holding a sword just moments earlier, collapsed to the ground.

There was no longer a head upon it.

Yet...

["I cannot grant an honorable death to something that disregards all those values."]

As those words followed, Piola's body, its head burst apart, began convulsing and staggered to its feet.

At that sight, everyone present understood how this battle would end.

Fear stirred on the soldiers' faces, and despair on those of the knights and mages.

The same was true of Penia and Deus, despite their having clearly transcended the realm of ordinary humanity. No, they had felt that despair a little earlier than the other knights and mages.

With their awakened sight, they knew: the being before them possessed even greater power than they had anticipated.

And so, amid the screams and lamentations of the undead, whose bodies had already been fully restored, they felt despair.

All except one man.

"Ultultus, great god of duels."

As everyone sank into despair, one man began walking between the living and the dead toward the giant.

His footsteps fell steadily. One step, then another.

Neither slow nor fast.

"In accordance with the covenant of the great Calgunias."

Even amid this hellish despair, the face of the man walking toward the giant remained utterly composed.

As though he had experienced this many times before.

And he—Count Pallatio—said:

"I, Alon Pallatio, to uphold the great covenant—"

"—demand the Duel of Babylonia."

With his bracelet gleaming a deep gray as he swung his arm, he stood face-to-face with the giant.