Chapter 65 - It Was There, Though (6)

For a moment, Marquis Philvoid felt as though the chilling aura pouring from the beastfolk before him would suffocate him. He immediately pulled an artifact from inside his coat and turned to flee.

But—

"—!"

THUD!

The next instant, Marquis Philvoid realized he had fallen and looked bewildered. An odd, alien sensation from below made him lower his gaze.

He saw his own legs, both hideously twisted.

"Aaaaaaargh!!"

The moment he saw them, horrific pain belatedly struck, and the marquis screamed.

"!?"

"What's happened, my lord?"

The mercenaries outside the gambling den immediately flung the door open and began rushing inside, but—

CRACKLE!

Seollang vanished in a burst of electricity. By the time she reappeared—

"Ah, aaaah..."

—the mercenaries who had been flooding into the gambling den mere moments earlier had become nothing more than scraps of meat.

And then—

"Ugh, what a mess. I was going to handle this quietly, and now it's a nuisance."

Having crushed every mercenary nearby to death in a single instant, the beastfolk rubbed at the red blood spattered on her golden hair and gave Marquis Philvoid a sulky look.

Despite taking dozens of lives in an instant, Seollang wore an innocent expression, as though this were an everyday occurrence. Marquis Philvoid felt an instinctive terror.

"P-please spare me."

He began pleading, his voice trembling.

Seollang watched him in silence, then hummed thoughtfully.

"Do you want to live?"

Seeing a glimmer of hope in her question, Marquis Philvoid immediately seized that lifeline.

"P-please... I'm a marquis of the Kingdom of Asteria...! If you spare me here, I promise you a generous reward...!"

It was a desperate struggle to survive.

But Seollang merely gave a curious hum and crouched before him, staring into his face as she asked,

"Then tell me, why did you say that?"

"Wh... what?"

"If you want to live, why did you say that?"

"...?"

Marquis Philvoid looked utterly unable to understand. But then—

"Why did you ask someone to kill my Mentor?"

"... Ah."

At those words, he realized who the beastfolk with the flashing golden eyes meant by her "Mentor."

"Don't tell me, Count Pallatio is...!"

"Yes, my Mentor—or should I say my husband? We're getting married soon, after all."

As Seollang smiled and nodded, Marquis Philvoid's face went blank.

He simply could not make sense of any of it.

The existence of a beastfolk who had brutally killed a Proxy said to possess skills surpassing those of Master Knights.

The fact that this beastfolk had ties to Count Pallatio.

... Or just how deep Count Pallatio's abyss went.

Hearing about the relationship between the beastfolk before him and Count Pallatio, there was only one conclusion he could draw.

"... Baba Yaga?"

The beastfolk before him was Golden Flash, one of Coloni's Baba Yagas.

"Oh, how did you know?"

At Seollang's response, the marquis's mouth fell open involuntarily.

"... Why in the world is a Baba Yaga who's supposed to be in Coloni here...?"

He simply could not understand it.

Yet Seollang answered without a care, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why? Isn't it obvious?"

"You don't think I'd leave anyone who means my Mentor harm alone, do you?"

Seollang's golden eyes shone brilliantly. But they were filled with a murderous intent more thick and clinging than ever, and he guessed what would happen next.

CRUNCH!

After the sound of something bursting, the marquis never had another thought.

And then—

"Absolutely not. Never."

Having blown the marquis's head off, Seollang wore a brutally cold expression.

"No one gets to touch my Mentor."

Then she vanished, off to somewhere else.

####

The weeklong ball at the royal castle came to an end.

Critenia Siyan had made no further appearances after the third day. Though Count Pallatio had yet to receive his formal investiture from the monarch, he had effectively come to be called Marquis Pallatio.

'Just what does Siyan want?'

For roughly a week, Alon had endured the Count of Xenonia and the Duchess of Altia's barrage of "What do we do now?" and somehow bought himself time. Throughout that period, he had given some thought to why she had granted him the title, but he still could not fathom her intentions.

Honestly, he wanted to ask her outright, but that was impossible to begin with. In the end, although he was pleased to have risen to the rank of marquis, he felt strangely uneasy.

Still, he had to leave the capital immediately and review his upcoming itinerary.

'... There's quite a lot to do.'

'First, I need to visit the ruins and see "that" again. I also need to go to Laxas to activate the ring... I've worked out a strategy, so I should at least lay some groundwork for dealing with the Proxies first. Ah, while I'm in Coloni, should I visit the colosseum too?'

Didn't winning a certain number of matches in Coloni's colosseum event grant an audience with the king and a chance to obtain one of the relics in his treasury?

Remembering that, Alon calmly organized his thoughts. A short while later, he settled on his priorities.

'Let's lay the groundwork for the Proxies first.'

Strictly in terms of urgency, meeting that thing in the forgotten ruins was somewhat more important. Still, the place where he would lay the groundwork was on the way to Coloni anyway, so he settled on that order.

A few days later, he arrived at a small territory called Atla, on the border between grassland and desert, and headed east.

Then—

"My lord the count—or should I call you marquis now?"

"That's the tenth time you've said that. Call me whatever you wish."

"Then I'll keep calling you count for now. But, my lord, is this the right place?"

At Evan's next question, Alon glanced around.

The scenery was quite remarkable. On one side stood a forest, while on the other lay a desert of seemingly endless sand.

After quietly taking in that contrast, Alon rose.

"Yes."

"Are we going somewhere like that labyrinth we visited last time?"

Alon answered Evan as he climbed out of the carriage.

"No. There's somewhere I need to visit briefly. Wait here."

"Are you sure you don't need me to come along?"

"Yes."

He began walking into the forest. After walking for some time—

"There it is."

—a cave entrance hidden by vines came into view deep within the woods.

It looked like a natural cave untouched by human hands. But Alon knew that what stood before him was no natural cave, and he felt a little tense.

That was only to be expected. Inside this apparently natural cave was the leader of the Proxies he needed to eliminate: Al-Kamae, the notorious boss known as the Spine Severer in early Psychedelia, who had driven even somewhat experienced players to vicious swearing.

Even in the lore, he was powerful enough to take on five or more Proxies, each of whom could be considered Master Knight caliber. In the game, too, his strength was practically on par with the powerful foes who appeared around the midpoint.

Alon let out a quiet sigh.

'Just stick to the plan.'

With that thought, he cleared his throat and spoke.

"In accordance with the first covenant, fulfill a single promise by proxy."

A short while later—

"...?"

Nothing happened.

'What's going on...?'

Alon looked bewildered.

"In accordance with the first covenant, fulfill a single promise by proxy."

He spoke once more to summon the leader of the Proxies, who should have been inside the cave, but there was still no response.

'This can't be right...?'

Even after several attempts, the man who ought to have emerged failed to appear. Bewildered, Alon began walking deeper into the cave.

How long had he been walking through the dark cave?

Eventually, in stark contrast to its entrance, an enormous mansion built inside the cave came into view. It was large enough to rival the Pallatio estate where Alon lived.

He quietly marveled at its scale, filling the vast cavern, and its old-world elegance, seemingly befitting a Proxy who led such powerful fighters.

Of course, he had come here countless times to kill the Proxies' leader and loot his belongings, but seeing it in person was very different from seeing a game illustration.

That feeling was short-lived. Before long, he noticed something puzzling.

'It's all... smashed up?'

He hadn't noticed from a distance, but the closer he drew, the clearer it became that the mansion, which should have been perfectly intact, had been wrecked.

When he finally entered—

"...?"

—he stared in bewilderment at the mansion of Al-Kamae, leader of the Proxies, which was effectively half destroyed.

####

Over his three hundred years of life, Al-Kamae had killed more people than could be counted.

He had beheaded more than twelve Swordmasters. He had slaughtered a nation's king and every member of its royal family, bringing the kingdom to ruin. He had killed the master of the Purple Magic Tower.

Besides those feats, he had single-handedly massacred thousands of knights. A hundred and fifty years ago, he had waged war against a territory alone and consigned it to the annals of history. By anyone's reckoning, his power was unquestionable.

Every Proxy, all of whom possessed skills surpassing those of Master Knights, regarded him with fear and awe.

That was why he felt irritated by the insolent girl who had somehow found her way here, declaring that she would kill him.

He had been lying low for the sake of a greater cause. When that bothersome little fly appeared, he intended to use her as a trifling plaything, toying with her before killing her.

That was certainly, certainly what should have happened.

It should have—

"... Ghack!"

Al-Kamae coughed up blood and gazed at the being before him with trembling eyes.

A girl stood in front of him, dressed in black holy robes embroidered in red. In one hand, she held a staff that gave off an eerily desolate red glow.

At first, that sight had posed no threat at all.

Yet now, as Al-Kamae looked at her, he felt unmistakable fear.

And it was not fear alone.

Terror, despair, emptiness.

All those emotions tangled together and ensnared him.

Because of her, standing before him.

Because of her.

Because, of her.

Because of what was behind her—

'What in the world—is that—'

—the dozens of tentacles spilling out of that black space—

He realized that his own perceptions were repeating over and over.

Even consciously recognizing it did not allow him to think properly.

The same thoughts kept circling through his conscious mind.

Terror.

Despair.

Emptiness.

Fear.

Again and again, he felt those emotions driving him into a horrific pit of hell.

And then—

"Why in the world—are you doing this to me—!"

She stared at Al-Kamae, who had somehow managed to force out those words amid that awful terror, his eyes bloodshot red.

No, Yutia did.

"Because you tried to harm him."

With chilling red eyes, she pronounced his crime as he vomited blood onto the floor again and again.

Then—

"!"

Black tentacles seized Al-Kamae and began dragging him into the black rift.

It happened in an instant.

Desperate to resist, Al-Kamae forced himself upright and swung his sword. Yet the blade that had killed even Swordmasters was utterly powerless before a single girl.

"N-nooooo!!"

CRUNCH! CRACK!

With those chilling sounds, he disappeared without even leaving a corpse.

One week.

That was all it took for the organization known as the Proxies, which had operated in the world's shadows for roughly fifty years, to vanish entirely.

And then—

"Normally, I would have made you suffer plenty before killing you, but I have something to do now. It can't be helped."

Looking toward the place where Al-Kamae had disappeared, Yutia murmured,

"You should thank Seollang."

She gazed at the desert visible beyond the forest—more precisely, toward the desert city of Coloni.

"... I only killed you quickly because I need to get moving, too."

Then she turned away.

In her hand was a letter from Alon.

A letter in which he had written that he would likely visit the desert city once again.

"At last..."

A small smile played across her lips.