[V10C33] Envoy from the Abyss
Translated by Jodas 10: A Job for a Con ManWith Wren and Ella in tow, Tia shuffled up to the top of a small hillock in the village. That hill provided them the right vantage point from which to watch the Spiremasters greet the arriving army.
Seeing the banner they raised, Ella remarked “So it is the Warmberg army.”
Wren counted the troops as he asked Ella a question.
“So Gerald’s hometown… Warmberg, I mean, is a march on the west side of the Empire, right? What are they doing coming all the way out east like this?”
“You’ve heard that relations with the Kingdom of Ridill to the west are relatively peaceful right now, haven’t you? That means the Warmberg army gets sent to shore up the southern front from time to time these days.”
“So you’re saying they broke away from the southern front to come out here? Even then, didn’t they get here way too fast? Mr. Hütter’s been off on the mission to Darwock this whole time, so how could he have possibly got in touch with them?”
“That’s a good point… I was wondering if maybe there’s some kind of illusion magic that let him do that.”
Listening to Wren and Ella’s exchange out of one ear, Tia focused her eyes and assayed the army’s commander.
Tia’s Harpy eyes allowed her to get a good look at his face.
Dismounting from the horse was a tall, lanky, sullen blond man. His eyebrows drooped, giving him an uncertain impression.
Beside her, Wren took a look for himself, whispering “Man, he looks nothing like Gerald.”
Definitely, he didn’t look much like Gerald. Although, for what it was worth, Gerald always hid half of his face behind those bangs of his, so it was hard to make a fair comparison.
Tia listened in. She could hear the man’s voice.
“I am the Margrave of Warmberg, Henrik Blanke. Having been informed of a crisis transpiring in the Eastern Autonomous Territory, I made haste so I may be of assistance.”
His voice lacked all sense of presence. From the looks of it, he didn’t really seem all that strong.
Yet something tingled on the back of her neck. Her Harpy instincts were telling her a different story.
— Would that work as prey? It’s a little lean, but there’s plenty of meat on its bones. It’s young and healthy too, so it would be a fine catch…
All of a sudden, Henrik neck twisted, his eyes staring straight at her.
Those piercing wolfish eyes aimed as if to ensnare her…
“—! Piu!?”
Before she knew it, Tia had fallen to the ground. Every hair on her body was standing at attention. Her legs refused to budge.
“Tia, what happened!?”
“Tia, are you okay!?”
Helped back up by Wren and Ella, Tia breathed rapid, hissing breaths.
In the distance, she could still hear Henrik and the Spiremasters talking.
“*My apologies, it felt like someone was watching us… looks like it was just the kids on the hill. I bet they’re wondering what’s going on when a big group like mine barges in… haha.”
The Harpy finally understood.
This was not the kind of man she could just capture and procreate with on a whim. This man would be the one hunting Monsters, not the other way around.
(That right there is an unbelievably strong creature…)
He may very well be on the same level as, if not even stronger than, Headmaster Möbius.
These reinforcements Hütter called in were a tremendous force that, without a doubt, would turn the tides of the battle.
“Pevuvu… We can’t let that guy see Sevil or Gerald. If he found them, they’d never be able to get away.”
Ella seemed to be troubled by Tia’s muttering.
“I guess… Sevil did mention that he’d slain a fire dragon with just his sword before.”
“No way, really? Damn, Sevil’s ‘darling’ is a real piece of work.”
“Yeah, that’s a really, really dangerous human.”
While the humans had been at an overwhelming disadvantage, that balance was shifting dramatically.
However, Tia still was not sure whether or not that shift would be in her favor.
The sun was slowly setting.
Finn, of the Werewolf clan, trundled up the stairs towards the roof in the form of a black wolf.
Grasped in his furry paws was the book that Sophie had picked out for him. He was sure that he’d be scolded if he read this in his brothers’ presence, so he planned to hide somewhere and read it in secret.
Just for reading, his brothers called him a weakling. A halfwit who couldn’t even get his fang back. A loser. A shame on the family. Not a single one of them complimented him now that he was able to read.
(I’m sure Julius would have complimented me.)
He hated himself for having such naïve thoughts. He was the one who had betrayed them.
No matter how sad, how lonely, how distraught he got, it was only while reading this book that he could forget about it all. But he had a feeling that he might feel even more adrift once he finished reading the book.
(I know Sophie said she liked happy endings… But humans and Monsters have different ideas of happy endings.)
A happy ending for a human would be a bad ending for a Monster.
A happy ending for a Monster would be a bad ending for a human.
So long as Monsters were creatures who obsessed over and preyed on humans, that would not change.
Even Finn, the weakest of the Werewolves, could feel the urge to hunt. When he laid his eyes on prey, he wanted to strike it with his claws. He wanted to chase it. He wanted to bite down on it.
(…Please, let Julius and the others get away safely. Let them live happy lives somewhere far away from here.)
As a Monster, Finn could not hope to live together in harmony with them. So, at the very least, he prayed that they could live happy lives somewhere far away from him.
Finn opened the door to the roof.
The orange light of the sunset refracted off of the crystal-encrusted roof, making it glow like a burning stone. Someone else had already arrived before him to admire this beautiful vista.
It was a girl with black hair and a Monster with white hair — The Daughter of God, Fiene, and the King of Monsters.
Finn immediately dropped to his knees and bowed his head.
The King of Monsters was an entirely different class of being compared to Finn. It would only take the King to let loose a modicum of its fear for Finn’s heart to stop cold.
“Raise your head.”
The King of Monsters’ voice demanded.
Trembling, Finn lifted his face. The orange light of the sky bathed the King in wondrous colors.
Unable to fully process the surreal scene before him, Finn noted that it was the same color as the woven bracelet on the King’s wrist.
“It would be unbecoming of me to monopolize this view. I welcome you; beauty ought to be shared.”
The King of Monsters’ eyes rested on the book pressed to Finn’s chest.
Finn shook, wondering if it would order him to dispose of the book, or perhaps to relinquish it to the King. Yet the King said:
“…Books. A fabricated story, printed on paper, and bound in a volume, requiring a vast array of human skills. Truly, it is a fantastic specimen. So that is your obsession, I assume?”
Maybe it is? It very well might be.
After all, none of the other Monsters had even the slightest interest in books. If that was the case, then this must have been Finn’s unique obsession.
An obsession that only Finn had. One that carried with it the memories of his companions from the Wedge Tower.
Finn held the book tightly as he stared out towards the evening sky.
Soon, two days will have passed since the Monsters occupied the Wedge Tower. The night after this one, just around midnight, the power of ‘Despina, the Chain of Fools’ will expire, and the Western Wall will disappear. Monsters will at last have true freedom.
Fiene held up her fingertips to stop her hair from billowing in the breeze as she turned to address Finn.
“Mister Wolf, do you perhaps remember anything about the Abyss from where you came?”
“…Unlike the Primordial Beast, I wasn’t born from the Abyss. I was born from my mother’s womb… So I don’t really know what the Abyss is like…”
“Then I will let you see as well. The font of the Abyss that connects all Monsters.”
Finn had trouble understanding the meaning of what Fiene had just said.
From the way she talked, it almost sounded like the Abyss was about to spring up out of the ground right here and now.
The Abyss was the mire of the world, born from the combination of negative human emotions and mana. Monsters were born from that Abyss — But now that mana was slowly disappearing from the world, most fonts of the Abyss had all dried up.
There was still a font deep within the Crystal Territory, but even that one was running dry. He’d heard that a new Monster was born from it only about once in a century.
Finn was skeptical, but the girl who was to be the Monsters’ god graced him with a merciful smile.
“There is no place better suited to birth the Abyss than the Wedge Tower as it is right now.”
The King of Monsters nodded along.
“There are no humans in the Crystal Territory. Even if there is plenty of mana, there is no accumulation of human works. Here, however, human works abound along with their tragedies and their malice.”
The Wedge Tower persisted to this day, maintained through the efforts of humans.
And with the crystal contamination, it now had tremendous mana density.
Negative emotions and mana. Both requirements have been fulfilled.
“Let this be where it begins.”
The girl lifted her arms to the sky, glowing in the light of the setting sun.
“The salvation of humans and Monsters is at hand. From here on, we shall be the Envoys of the Abyss.”
Winston Barrett, the Soaring Mage, called out to the man on his back as he flew through the skies at high speed.
“Hey, Frederik, are you feeling alright?”
The response he got was a groaning noise, too indiscernible to really even call a ‘response.’
Frederik was wrapped in bandages from head to toe. His bones were broken is multiple locations, and his body felt unusually hot to the touch. He must have developed a fever as a result of his injuries.
While it would obviously have been better for him to just stay still and rest, when he heard of what had transpired at the Wedge Tower, Frederik insisted on going and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
When asked if there was anything he could even do considering the state he was in, his answer was “There is.” He was a mage, after all. Besides, since Frederik was a flight magic user, he could still fly around even if his bones were broken.
That said, flight magic consumed mana at an alarming rate, so to conserve resources, Barrett offered to carry him on his back instead.
Barrett was a mage who excelled at long-distance flight magic, but anything battle-related was not his forte. If they encountered a Monster, he would always choose to flee rather than fight it.
“Brother!!”
Another voice called from somewhat behind Barrett. This was from a man who came despite no one asking him to, Frederik’s younger brother Oliver.
Using his two-stage flight magic of flying straight up, then in a direct horizontal line, he managed to catch up to Barrett.
He’d heard people say that the younger Lange brother was talentless, but he had to admit that, despite the looks, his flight endurance was nothing to scoff at.
While it was true that carrying Frederik on his back forced Barrett to travel a little slower than usual, it was still impressive that he was able to catch up.
Then, Barrett heard a tortured mumbling coming from his back.
“…Go home… You useless piece of…”
Barrett then projected his voice to reach Oliver behind him. When using flight magic, anything shy of shouting would be effectively inaudible.
“It sounds like your brother wants you to go home!”
“No need to worry about me, Brother!! I may have been out of it since you collapsed, but I’ve made sure to rest well! I’ve got plenty of strength, mana, and fighting spirit! Now it’s time to show off the true capability of Oliver, the ‘Red Rain’!”
Barrett chose to ignore the murderous groaning to the effect of “You piece of shit dumbass little brother…” coming from his back.