Chapter 31 - What Is a Duel Meant to Protect? (3)

The pristine snowfield restored by that single flash of light held everyone’s attention only briefly. A fleeting instant later, it returned to gray, leaving nothing but clouds of dust and swirling snow.

"..."

Everyone fell silent. It was a silence that permitted not even the faintest breath. In that space, where only crumbling gravel and settling dust made a soft patter, the living looked at Alon with differing emotions in their eyes.

Awe filled the soldiers’ eyes, and hope filled the knights’. Yet Alon, the recipient of those gazes mingled with awe and hope, merely kept his face expressionless.

More precisely, he was praying fervently.

'Pleasepleaseplease—'

He sincerely hoped this strike would destroy the Outer God.

But—

"Ah."

At someone’s low, sorrowful exclamation, Alon realized his prayers had failed to reach the heavens.

The giant still stood there. With both arms raised as though making a show of it, his face radiant with joy, he stood facing the sunset head-on.

With an enormous hole through his chest.

["Powerful."]

His voice was low. The sight of the giant smiling brightly despite his pierced heart now inspired in the soldiers and knights an awe that transcended even terror.

'Ah.'

For Alon, however, it inspired boundless despair.

'It’s over.'

His attack had certainly succeeded in dealing Ultultus a solid blow. The problem was that it had merely blown away his heart, rather than his entire body.

'... Was the firepower insufficient?'

Objectively speaking, there were several reasons why Alon, whose magic had only just reached the third tier, had been able to unleash such firepower. This time, however, the constraints had played an especially significant role. Using Babiloia’s phrases and hand seals imposed clear constraints, but those he had imposed this time were even more restrictive than his usual ones.

Even in the game, constraints that specified a race or a particular enemy increased raw spell power by more than 100% and 200%, respectively.

On top of that, he had been given time to impose those constraints, as well as chant for dozens of seconds—something ordinarily impossible when casting an offensive spell. He had also added a support spell that allowed him to produce firepower one tier higher by setting the coordinates before the spell began to manifest, usable only when his opponent was guaranteed not to dodge. Only with all of that had he managed such firepower.

In short, the spell he had just cast was both the strongest card Alon could currently play and his only one. Now that the attack had failed to do its job, his defeat was certain. It had blown away the Outer God’s heart, but destroying that heart alone would not annihilate him.

As if to prove it, Ultultus still stood proudly in place, wearing a broad smile. Burns covered his body, and a hole gaped where his heart had been, but that arrogant smile remained.

["Heh—so that is it. Indeed, you have been carrying on the will."]

At the giant’s cryptic murmur, quiet enough for only Alon to hear, Alon lowered the hand with which he had formed his seal.

Even now, the top-grade potion continued healing his body. He had recovered enough to move about, albeit with some discomfort, but that meant little. His spell had already exhausted every last bit of mana in his bracelet, leaving him with none to continue the fight.

Despondent behind his expressionless face, Alon looked up with some puzzlement at Ultultus’s next words.

"?"

Then he saw it.

Ultultus’s body was slowly beginning to disappear.

Alon looked bewildered as the giant vanished from the feet upward, shining brilliantly in the reflected sunset.

'He’s...being annihilated?'

The thought had barely crossed his mind before he shook his head slightly and dismissed it. He had never seen an Outer God’s destruction take place like this. His puzzlement, however, lasted only a moment.

["Remarkable, noble one. I never imagined you would already possess ‘stature’ as well."]

The Outer God’s words left Alon bewildered.

THUD!

Smiling with utter contentment, Ultultus dropped into a seated position, then rested his chin on his hand and spoke.

["Noble one, though we exchanged but a single blow each, it was magnificent. Indeed, you are worthy of the ‘black one’ and the ‘blue one’ watching over you."]

"...?"

Alon was puzzled both by the voice suddenly sounding inside his head rather than aloud and by its incomprehensible words. Of course, his face remained expressionless, betraying no change whatsoever, so Ultultus continued.

["Having lost the duel, I shall give you a gift as well. And I shall grant you authority."]

He grinned.

["You who remember the hand seals and mysteries of the forgotten great god—you who remember us and carry on our will."]

By the time nearly half of Ultultus’s body had vanished, its disappearance began accelerating. Yet he spoke with a smile full of deep goodwill.

["When the ‘usurpers’ crawl free of their bonds, call upon me. Speak my true name, rather than that derogatory name steeped in falsehood."]

He continued.

["For you have earned that right."]

Then came his final words.

["Call upon me—"]

["The God of Strange Powers and Untamed Spirits."]

The ornament tied at the Outer God’s waist fell to the ground, and he vanished completely.

... Leaving behind a deep laugh filled with anticipation.

And so,

"...?"

Having witnessed the Outer God’s disappearance before his very eyes, Alon stared blankly at the ornament left behind, bewildered. To the soldiers and knights, however, he appeared to be gazing expressionlessly at the spot where the Outer God had vanished, with the sunset at his back.

"..."

Awe spread among the living.

####

After the giant vanished, the biting wind replaced the voices of the dead that had filled the frigid land only moments before. All those who had struggled, unable to die, found rest at last, and the living gathered their bodies.

About a day later, having accomplished their objective of defeating the Outer God, the expedition set off to return to Callivan.

Roughly two days into the journey, Alon, traveling with the knights just as he had on the way north, had experienced three major changes.

"Loyalty!"

The first was that most of the knights now saluted whenever they saw him.

Generally speaking, mages and knights did not get along particularly badly, but there was still a certain rivalry between them. In particular, the existence of mages who used magic purely for combat, unlike those who were more akin to researchers, meant that although the two groups remained civil, they did not truly respect each other all that much.

Despite that, Alon now received salutes from everyone whenever he so much as walked outside his carriage or tent. Soldiers and knights alike, regardless of their affiliation.

That was the first change that had befallen him.

The second was...

"Deputy Tower Master."

"Y-yes...?"

"There’s something I’d like to ask you."

"A-ask me anything...!"

Penia’s misunderstanding had grown bizarrely stronger.

"..."

Alon looked troubled as he watched her tremble like a leaf now at the mere sound of him addressing her.

"I think you’ve misunderstood something—"

"I haven’t misunderstood anything...! You’re a second-tier mage, my lord, aren’t you?!"

Penia spoke with exaggerated emphasis. Even then, the slight trembling at the corners of her eyes was pitiful.

This time, however, Alon grew dejected for an entirely different reason.

"... Third tier, actually."

"R-right!! Third tier! Of course! I was mistaken...!"

Penia nodded frantically, horrified by his calm voice, though inwardly he was feeling oddly sulky.

"... But why would the deputy tower master of the Blue Magic Tower speak so formally to a mere third-tier mage?"

"Oh, d-do I, my lord—no, do I? Then I’ll speak casually—from...now on!"

Alon watched her begin speaking informally, stiff and awkward as a broken doll.

"... Speak however you feel comfortable."

"U-understood, my lord. Thank you...!"

Penia immediately returned to polite speech and bowed her head gratefully.

"..."

Being thanked for permitting her to speak respectfully made Alon feel like some cruel mastermind. At last, he spoke.

"Do you happen to know anything about the black one and the blue one?"

"No? I—I don’t know anything."

"... Really?"

"Yes, I really don’t know anything."

Penia shook her head as though she genuinely knew nothing at all.

"If you know anything, tell me."

"I really don’t know. I don’t know anything. I’ve never seen the black one or the blue one."

"..."

Her answer came so quickly that Alon wondered whether she had given it any thought at all. Speechless, he finally realized he was unlikely to get an answer from her and nodded.

"Then I’ll be on my way...!"

Was escaping this conversation really so delightful? Alon felt oddly hurt as he watched a curious little smile begin to curve her lips beneath her wary gaze.

The instant he nodded, Penia ran off into the distance. Watching her go, along with a mage looking on in awe, Alon recalled the key words the Outer God had spoken.

'The black one. The blue one. The hand seals and mysteries of the forgotten great god. The God of Strange Powers and Untamed Spirits. Stature. One who carries on the will. Authority.'

Among them, Alon could make sense of only one connection.

'The forgotten god’s hand seals and mysteries, and the one who carries on the will—those are definitely things I heard when I imposed constraints through the ring... But aside from that, I don’t understand a single thing.'

Alon idly touched his hair. In truth, there was much he could not understand. Fortunate though it was, he still did not know why the Outer God had been destroyed by an attack that should not have destroyed him.

And that was not all. He did not understand the ‘black one’ and ‘blue one’ Ultultus had mentioned, nor could he make sense of what he meant by ‘stature.’

'The only kind of stature I know of in this world is divine stature. Obviously, that can’t be it.'

Nor could he understand ‘the God of Strange Powers and Untamed Spirits,’ which Ultultus had offered as his true name.

'... Isn’t that far too different from Ultultus, though?'

He briefly tilted his head at the incongruous name, which seemed better suited to an Eastern god than the god of the northern barbarians he had known.

'... Maybe going there really will tell me something?'

Alon took the ornament out from inside his clothes. It was the leather ornament set with three amethysts in a row that the Outer God Ultultus—no, the God of Strange Powers and Untamed Spirits—had worn. In the game, it was an item obtainable after defeating him, and its effect was to multiply the wearer’s damage by exactly two.

However, equipping it also doubled incoming damage, so players had called it the Glass-Cannon Belt. Looking at the inside of the ornament, Alon found an inscription.

'You who carry on the will, make your way to Kahara, city of the old gods.'

Seeing words on the belt that should not have existed, Alon readily surmised that this was the gift the Outer God had left him.

'... Getting there won’t be difficult.'

As its designation suggested, Kahara, city of the old gods, was a city that no longer existed in the present age. Alon did, however, know roughly where it lay. After all, in the game it was one of the secret dungeons players could enter once they reached Coloni.

As Alon made his way back to his carriage, studying the inscription on the belt—

"... So this is where you were."

"Ah, Deus."

He looked at Deus, who had appeared at his side before he knew it.

Watching Deus begin to follow him, wearing an expressionless face that seemed no different from usual, Alon looked vaguely uneasy. Deus was, in fact, the last of the three major changes he had experienced on his return to Callivan.

Of course, seen like this, Deus did not appear to have changed very much. He seemed to carry himself with a little more tension, but even that was barely perceptible. Outwardly, there was no great difference.

And yet Alon looked uneasy because...

"... My lord."

"What is it?"

"Shall I kill the deputy tower master?"

"... Why...?"

"Did she not speak informally? To you, my lord."

... Ever since that day, Deus had been expressing his respect rather more violently.

"There’s no need for that."

"... Yes, my lord."

Alon wore a peculiar expression as he watched Deus, who seemed disappointed, though it did not show.

"Then, my lord."

"... What?"

"Shall I make an example of a couple of mages?"

"..."

What is wrong with you...?

Alon felt dizzy...