WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Order

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Chapter 89: Dickens (1)

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Sonia let out an admiring breath.

"Wow. That was insanely good fighting."

The Ghost Knight, wrapped in darkness, riding its ghost horse down the wall.

And Elbridge and Rombel, who'd leaped up the steep rampart on foot and cut the Ghost Knights down.

The kind of feat you'd expect from an old hero's tale. Short enough to feel almost disappointing.

"..."

But the faces of the two who'd just pulled off that impressive feat were stiff as stone.

Marcus's expression turned even grimmer than theirs.

'What happened?'

In the past year, Marcus had never once seen Elbridge and Rombel look this serious.

Even in front of the black giant, even in front of the stampede, the two of them had kept at least a shred of composure. But right now, there wasn't a trace of ease on either of their faces.

Unlike Marcus, though, Sonia still hadn't caught on to the mood.

"What's wrong? Is there some kind of problem?"

"Yes."

"What kind of problem?"

Elbridge's gaze fixed on the traces left by the Ghost Knight.

"Ah, is it about the seal? Hold on a second..."

Sonia's movements, as she went to prepare the seal, came to a stop.

Only now did Sonia spot the half-broken orb inside the Ghost Knight's armor.

The shape and size of that orb was somewhat familiar to her, and it was gushing out ominous black smoke besides. And not just one. Two of them.

Sonia cursed without meaning to.

"Oh my god."

The Ghost Knight's seal didn't matter anymore.

Sonia's voice trembled.

"Elbridge. You're clearly good, but could you take down a demon too? I can enchant you up nicely, you know..."

Rombel answered in Elbridge's place.

"No."

Every demon carried its own variable.

And when the variables doubled, that didn't just mean twice the danger.

The moment two or more demons gathered in one place, neither the direction nor the outcome of a fight could be predicted.

That was exactly why avoiding combat was the basic doctrine when facing two or more demons.

It didn't matter how much force you had ready, how skilled the knights were, or what kind of demon it was. Unless irreversible damage was already guaranteed, the rule was retreat, no exceptions.

That had held true even in the past, when paladins had been far more capable than they were now.

And here, right now, there were only five people.

Elbridge thought it through.

What were the odds that both demons were like the black giant, with almost no variables to worry about?

'Low.'

What were the odds they had an extreme advantage, like the demon they'd seen beneath the Central Magic Tower?

'Slim.'

The conclusion had been set from the start.

Combat doctrine didn't exist for nothing.

'Rule out the fight.'

And yet Elbridge still couldn't shake his lingering hesitation.

'Is retreating really the right call here?'

He had no way of knowing exactly what information remained inside Viscount Dickens's castle.

But one thing was certain. If they retreated now and came back later, the odds that clue would still be there were low.

Ssss-

While Elbridge kept weighing his options, the smoke leaking from the orb began gathering into shape, bit by bit.

Still hazy, but the silhouette of a demon was already recognizable.

'That one looks humanoid...'

Humanoid demons came in vast numbers, so a silhouette alone wasn't much of a clue.

But the other demon was different. Its silhouette and size alone were enough to guess at what it might be.

Rombel muttered, "...Starwave."

Most demons had no fixed name. Like the black giant or the flower demon, the best they usually got was a simple nickname from whoever fought them.

But every so often, there was one that earned a proper name.

The giant serpent, Starwave, was one of those.

Scales as beautiful as the Milky Way in the night sky, a size that ranked among the largest of any demon known, a temperament gentler than most, and yet the sheer scale of devastation Starwave's presence brought about...

Watching the two demons slowly finish taking shape, Marcus shifted his weight restlessly.

"Sir Elbridge. Heard you're something of a specialist at buying time for a retreat. Sounds like your moment's arrived."

A proposal to retreat, right now.

But Elbridge thought it over briefly and shook his head.

"Dangerous or not, I need to check the lord's castle."

Who had gathered the seals. Who had broken them. Who had set Viscount Dickens up.

All the clues might be sitting inside that castle.

He knew it was only a possibility. But Elbridge couldn't let that possibility slip away.

Marcus shouted at once.

"That's insane!"

"It probably is dangerous. But I doubt I'm the only one who thinks we need to get inside that castle."

Elbridge's eyes met Sonia's.

Even after seeing the two broken orbs, Sonia had asked whether Elbridge could fight and win against a demon.

She clearly wanted to go into the castle, danger or not.

Sonia asked, "Can you do it?"

"No guarantee I'll come out alive."

Sonia squeezed her eyes shut.

Sonia's goal wasn't simple survival anymore.

"...Damn it, if it comes to that, I'll die watching. Let's go!"

But before Sonia and Elbridge set off, Rombel spoke up.

"Sonia! Set fire to that building up ahead!"

"Fire?"

"It's not enough for just us to get out! If we want to save the crows and get everyone out, that's what it takes!"

"Wait, what does fire have to do with that... Starwave thing?"

"Starwave senses its surroundings by temperature. It hates fire, and it tends to lose its bearings in burning places."

The plan was to set fires and throw off the giant serpent's senses.

Two hundred years ago, whenever Starwave appeared, setting fires had been the first step of any response.

And if fire rose up in the dead of night, the crows scavenging through ownerless valuables would realize something was seriously wrong.

Sharp-eyed people might pull themselves out ahead of time.

Sonia chanted a spell and swung her staff, and flames rose up from the wooden roof.

Rombel shouted, "Elbridge, Sonia. See you alive! Marcus, Walter! You two, follow me!"

Rombel tore off a piece of the burning roof and ran with it held up like a torch.

He didn't forget to stop here and there to set fire to other buildings along the way.

Precise division of labor. Seasoned judgment under pressure.

Elbridge smiled faintly.

'Moving with Rombel really does make things easier.'

Elbridge walked over to Sonia. Sonia spread her arms as if asking for a piggyback ride.

"Here."

But Elbridge didn't carry her on his back.

Instead, he scooped Sonia up and tucked her under his right arm.

"...?"

"Let's go."

Elbridge kicked off the ground. Sonia, carried like a sack of goods, stared straight ahead.

The Inner Rampart rushed closer fast, and her body shot straight upward.

He didn't need stairs or a ladder. A small jutting stone, a space just wide enough for a toehold, a gap big enough for his fingers... that was all Elbridge needed to scale the outer wall without much trouble.

And he moved incredibly fast doing it. To Sonia, it felt less like climbing and more like flying.

Swung about like cargo, the view atop the Inner Rampart unfolded before her eyes in an instant.

The ground looked dizzyingly far below. A height several times a person's own.

Sonia blurted out, "Wait, wait a second...!"

But Elbridge didn't give her even a moment to catch her breath before he jumped.

"Eek!"

The ground rushed up at her face. A sharp wind cut past her ears. Chilling.

Her fingertips and toes went numb. Sonia's thick hair whipped wildly in the wind.

Fast, violent, and utterly unfamiliar movement, unlike anything she'd experienced in her life.

Whether from fear or excitement, Sonia's heart pounded like mad.

Sonia forced her head up and looked at the lord's castle. She tilted her head back further and looked at Elbridge's face. Then at the night sky beyond him.

Even clouded over, the night sky was beautiful. A moment as rare as anything she'd get in a lifetime.

Some strange sense of exhilaration rose from deep in her chest.

There was no guarantee she'd survive the night, and yet, strangely, she felt good.

Thump.

A soft landing, despite how violent the motion had been.

Still carried like cargo, Sonia pointed toward the lord's castle.

"Let's go! That way, that way!"

Her voice, oddly upbeat for the situation.

'...Why's she so excited?'

Elbridge thought that to himself as he ran, following the direction of her finger.

The elaborately decorated gate of the lord's castle came into view. But there wasn't even time to spare for opening it properly.

No telling how much time they had left, so every second counted.

Bang!

Elbridge kicked the door open and stepped inside the castle.

"Left!"

He ran down the corridor, turned left,

"Last room!"

The last room at the end of the hall. He approached the lord's office.

He didn't kick that door open.

Elbridge finally set Sonia down, the one he'd been carrying under his arm.

Sonia stumbled for a moment before finding her balance.

"...You're fast."

For all the months of hardship Sonia had gone through just to get inside this castle, reaching it in the end had only taken a single night.

And yet, instead of feeling hollow about it, she strangely felt good.

Sonia and Elbridge took a deep breath at the same moment, as if they'd planned it, then opened the door.

They expected the creak of a hinge, the sound a long-neglected building always made.

But no creak came. Even the sensation of the door opening felt strange somehow.

Elbridge's instincts screamed a warning. He let go of the door, half-open as it was, grabbed Sonia, and pulled her two steps back.

And then, through the half-open door, he saw a bizarre sight.

The space that should have been the lord's lavish office had become something pale pink instead.

'Flesh.'

A space made entirely of human flesh.

Even Elbridge was seeing something this grotesque for the first time.

But it wasn't simply a space built out of some twisted taste.

That space squirmed, ever so slightly, as if to declare it was alive. So faint that even Elbridge, with his sharpened senses, could barely catch it.

"This is..."

Elbridge pushed the door open a little further and looked inside.

The office made of flesh had furniture half-covered in flesh scattered here and there, and the walls and ceiling were studded with a dozen or so orbs, large and small.

As if they'd become part of the space itself.

'So not all of Viscount Dickens's collection was broken. That's a relief.'

The two of them stepped into the lord's office.

Sonia looked around in silence, then spoke in a small voice.

"...Do you think Dad's in a different room?"

But there wasn't a question in Sonia's voice. There was a tremor.

Elbridge understood exactly what she was thinking, because he was imagining the same thing.

Both of them simply hoped it was nothing more than a horrible, disgusting figment of their imagination.

And a moment later, Elbridge found something he really didn't want to see, in the space beside a bookshelf half-covered in flesh.

"Sonia."

"Yeah?"

"What color were Viscount Dickens's eyes?"

"...Brown."

What Elbridge had found was a brown eye embedded in the wall.

The eye moved slowly, and every so often the eyelid blinked. A couple of hand-widths above it, there was even something resembling an eyebrow.

Sonia, who'd drifted up beside Elbridge without realizing it, stared at the brown eye.

The eye turned to look at Sonia instead of Elbridge. It trembled faintly, then blinked a few times.

'Still alive. He recognized Sonia.'

Sonia reached out and gently touched the skin around the eye.

"Dad. How could this... how did this happen..."

No tears fell from the brown eye.

But Elbridge was certain the owner of that eye was crying.

The skin around Sonia's own eyes reddened.

Still, she only clenched her jaw now and then. She didn't break down in tears, because she knew that if she cried, it would only cause Viscount Dickens more pain.

While Sonia and Viscount Dickens looked at each other, Elbridge searched every corner of the office.

He found the remaining eye beside the door, two small nostrils in one corner of the room, and finally, a mouth beneath a dust-covered carpet.

When Elbridge pulled the carpet aside, Viscount Dickens's mouth slowly began to move.

No voice came out. Perhaps his vocal cords were gone.

But the shape of his mouth was enough to communicate.

Viscount Dickens spoke with the shape of his mouth.

Sonia.

I love you.

Run.

And then, Elbridge and Sonia felt a massive tremor.

Footnotes:

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