novelraw Chapter 50
Chapter 50
Chapter 50
I spun the revolver’s cylinder with my left hand.
Ex-Revolver.
The name the cube had shown just before I woke.
As expected, the magical tool had been born a revolver.
A black-gleaming revolver.
Electric current packed inside the cylinder pulsed blue, over and over.
Captain Shimena had struggled, but in the end the beasts’ destination was not Special Task Force Headquarters.
I ignored them and flew on.
From their point of view, Headquarters must be a tiger’s den; skirting it was only sensible.
I still didn’t know where they ultimately meant to land.
It didn’t matter.
My duty was not to watch where they touched down, but to stop them here.
“Not a single one.”
To keep them from slipping past me.
A vampire’s ashen wings drifted in front of my eyes.
The hybrid—she lifted off clutching a bundle of glittering fireworks.
The demon beasts’ eyes rolled when they saw her sparkling shape.
They fixed on her light, stabbed their gazes into her, and gave chase.
Like Captain Shimena’s dagger following a sigil, they trailed the hybrid.
Tail to tail, an unbroken chain.
They could learn language and obey orders, but something stronger ruled them.
Instinct could not be denied.
Forgetting everything, they chased the meteor-shower of fireworks.
The tighter they clumped, the closer her death hurried.
When I pulled the trigger she would die along with the winged beasts.
I would be the one to take her life.
Before we met the Ghost King in the red-light district, she had dozed off for a moment.
I thought—
She was dead.
No, no. She isn’t dead. She can’t die, not yet.
“Not yet?”
I want to fight too, Ms. Mago. Now that it’s come to this, I don’t want to run. I don’t want to use my wings to flee. Funny, huh?
“What... do you mean?”
I can fly now. But... I’ll die. My organs are ruined like everyone else’s. Just once before the end. I... for a long time. And I want to be remembered widely.
“To be remembered—how cruel. Remembering the dead, only remembering... I want to stop that now.”
Then let everyone know! Not just you, Ms. Mago—everyone! Wouldn’t that lighten your burden?
I rested my index finger lightly on the trigger.
I sighted as she wished, so I could kill the black beasts swarming her in a single shot.
I braced my shaking right hand with my left.
Held my breath.
Killed the tremor.
She was a star.
Spewing orange fireworks from her body, she became a single star.
Brilliantly bright.
As though she could hang in the night sky any season, any weather.
Her after-image burned so strongly I could summon it whenever I liked.
“The brightest star.”
I pulled the trigger.
Lightning tore the cloud and touched the star.
With a roaring clap of thunder, the star went out.
Blink—gone.
The beasts bunched beneath were electrocuted in an instant.
Tail to tail, every last one charred dead.
Just as I thought a few had escaped, the fireworks jammed in her vest exploded at once.
She fell wrapped in black smoke.
Her wing broken, limp.
I caught her in both arms.
When she opened her mouth, pitch-black smoke spilled out.
She tried to speak, but no sound came.
Empty space.
I filled the void and silence.
“You were... truly, truly magnificent.”
She gave a small nod.
“I’ll remember you.”
But she shook her head.
As if to say there was no need.
Her head swayed, then her eyes closed.
The rain kept falling.
* * *
“Oscar.”
No answer.
“Oscar Sita.”
He only clutched Lune’s ruined body.
“Ms. Lune had been critical ever since she drank vampire blood.”
“Her name...”
“By the time I reached the red-light district, it was already too late. The humans turned into hybrids were all dying. Any later and they’d have died at Madam Anne’s hand. Ms. Lune held out to the very end. Before she died, she found her courage and fought one last, brave battle—for us, for her hometown.”
“So you’re using her name... at last.”
“I always did. I told you names don’t matter.”
“Then why... why did you stop me?”
“Because you mustn’t grow attached.”
“Why... why not? Because Ms. Lune was going to die anyway?”
“No.”
“Because the rejection was so severe?”
“Because I was afraid you’d pity her.”
Oscar stuffed the sleeve of his uniform into his mouth.
“Ngh, nngh...”
He swallowed the sob.
“I was afraid you’d give her—ready to die—a reason to want to live.”
“Hk, hhh...”
“We have no right to pity her. No time to grieve. No meaning in it, either.”
There was no need to push his back any more.
No need to guide his hand.
“All we can do is answer her sacrifice with victory, so it won’t be in vain.”
Now Oscar reached out on his own.
“Mago... lend me your mage-weapon.”
He lifted his head.
* * *
The next day, the rain stopped.
Extra editions began to spread across the Empire.
Boys ran about tossing newspapers.
People started picking the sheets from the mud, one by one.
The demon beasts had swooped in, just like during the Second Invasion.
Everyone knew they’d soon be lying on the ground.
The next thing scattered would be good news—instinct told them so.
The refugees who had fled the capital realized it first.
They had waited for this victory more desperately than anyone.
SPECIAL TASK FORCE REPELS DEMON KING’S AIR RAID
The headline.
What followed mattered more.
WITHOUT MARCELLO ARNES
The refugees’ hands trembled, clenched around the paper.
THE EMPIRE’S FIRST VICTORY
They crushed the sheet in their fists, unaware it was wrinkling.
* * *
South of the capital, the red-light district.
News of the victory reached even those who had followed Anakonda and Madam Anne.
“That was Madam Anne’s lightning...”
“That white-haired Imperial did it. It really happened...!”
“Demon beasts, wiped out with Madam Anne’s mage-weapon...”
* * *
Southwest, Market Street beside Knights Headquarters.
A royal knight, meeting Mago at the Chief Instructor’s request.
He had declared he would teach no magic unless she joined the Imperial Knights.
When he saw the paper, his brows knitted.
Especially at Mago’s name.
Standing in the street, he hunted for a smithy.
“Welcome!”
The shopkeeper beamed.
With victory declared, everyone smiled.
“Looking for something?”
“Armor—strong enough to protect head and vitals... no, make that full-body...”
“Eh? White uniform, golden-lion crest... aren’t you Royal Knights? Don’t you get issued gear?”
“Yes, but...”
“I’m bound to get hit again today...”
The Knight Commander would surely slap him for failing to recruit Mago.
“Can’t wait for the new commander to arrive. Sigh...”
* * *
Imperial First Training Center.
“The whole Empire’s in festival mood.”
“Citizens feel such hope knowing another genius like Marcello Arnes has appeared...”
“Both prodigies passed through the Chief Instructor’s hands. He must be overjoyed.”
“We believe he’s become a star, watching how much more Mago will win and grow.”
The instructors laid the Empire’s first victory before the Chief Instructor’s grave.
“Rest in peace.”
* * *
“Mago, what are you thinking?”
“Feels like I wandered everywhere and came full circle.”
“Hm?”
Captain Shimena flinched.
“Right up to our first victory.”
“Yes... the first victory. We swore we’d seize it, and now it’s finally in our hands...”
“Congratulations.”
“You’re the one who should be congratulated, Mago. You’re already a hero.”
"That's high praise."
"Don't act modest."
"Actually, you're right. I did it all. It's all thanks to me."
"...Don't crawl any lower."
"Where should I aim, then?"
"What do you mean, where? The mission continues, Mago."
"Can't we rest a little?"
"I never thought I'd hear such weakness from you. Finally showing a human side, huh?"
"The Anakonda mission flipped my days and nights. Fatigue just kept piling up."
"Is that so. Then, Mago, take a trip into town."
"Town, ma'am?"
"Bring your fellow trainees. The 42nd Platoon."
"What are we supposed to do there?"
"Just... take a day off."
"Yes... understood."
"You don't sound thrilled."
"Not at all. Who'd turn down leave?"
* * *
"Where do you think you're going?"
That evening, just as we stepped out of Headquarters' main gate, we ran into Karasma.
"Heading into town."
"All three of you?"
He eyed me, Amon, and Belle.
"Yes, sir."
"Business? Doesn't look like a full platoon op."
"Oscar's stuck pulling an all-nighter, poor guy. Louise passed out cold."
Amon answered.
I added,
"No real agenda, sir. Captain Shimena gave us a 1-night 2-day pass, so we're just... going."
"Mago, did you just say 'just'?"
"Yes, did I misspeak—"
The word slipped out before I caught it.
"'Just going'... as in, free time fell into our laps... ha, hahaha..."
Karasma burst into slightly unhinged laughter.
"Six months without a single break, and you get to 'just' go... haha..."
"Sorry, sir..."
I snapped a salute and fled.
With Amon and Belle I headed downhill to the town.
It was called a town, anyway.
No sign of bustle.
Before the war there must have been a reason for the name: people hurrying about, trading with locals, neighbors sharing kindness.
Now it was barren.
Citizens sat along the road, only staring.
Even so, this was the livelier version—news of the Empire's first victory had reached them.
As they gazed blankly upward,
"White Hair..."
A voice drifted from the side.
"Is that man Mago...?"
"Yes, it's him! The Special Task Force's White Hair!"
Voices swelled and overlapped.
People leapt from their stoops.
"Mago, I've got a bad feeling..."
Belle tugged my sleeve, trying to pull me free, but it happened in a heartbeat.
"W-wait—"
Citizens rushed in and surrounded us—me especially.
"You're Mago, right? It is you?"
"Thank you, truly...!"
"They say you stood in for Marcello Arnes..."
I didn't like the "instead of Marcello" part, but I nodded to the question of whether I was Mago.
"Knew it!"
The ring tightened.
Bodies pressed, jostled, yet no one looked displeased.
"Hey, Mago...! Did you drag us here just for this? Needed to show off that badly?"
Amon's pitiful voice came from somewhere in the crush.
"What're you talking about? I had no idea...!"
"Amon, we're totally invisible..."
Even Belle's voice—only her voice—reached me.
She'd vanished into the swarm; I couldn't spot her.
Only a small right hand poked free of the throng.
It wasn’t Belle.
“Excuse me, coming through.”
Before the owner of that hand could be knocked down and trampled, I caught it and pulled him free.
A boy—no older than ten—swung his arm through empty air even after I had him.
I realized why at once: he was blind.
A scar at the corner of each eye said he’d lost his sight to the war.
I took his other hand as it groped for my arm.
Both hands now, clasped between mine, I knelt.
The press of bodies eased; the crowd gave the child a careful half-step of space.
“I heard you fight with your eyes closed,” the boy whispered.
“I do.”
“Could I fight like you... someday?”
The answer came without hesitation.
“No.”
I was born to this; I carry a gift the gods handed me, nothing more.
“Then... I can’t?”
“Not now. You’re too small.”
“When I’m bigger...”
“When you’re bigger—when your hands can close hard around a sword—then we’ll see.”
“Then...”
“Before that day comes, we’ll finish this war. I’m sorry, kid—there won’t be a battlefield left for you to shine on.”