Chapter 35
A Night of Counting Stars (9)
“Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace!!”
“Stop spouting nonsense and focus!!”
Eugene was still striking down at the elves with eyes blazing an eerie blue.
Judging by the way the pure white light gathered along his blade and burst with every swing, his “god” seemed rather pleased with his prayer.
However, no matter how talented they were, they were still students in the end. Even if they were exceptionally skilled for their year, the quality of their experience was fundamentally different.
“We’re being pushed back! We’re losing ground!!”
“I know! Just hold on!”
Oswald and Yuri gritted their teeth and repeatedly swung their hands and weapons.
Every attack was blocked, and they could see no way to break through the troops advancing in a tightly formed defensive formation.
These soldiers had survived the Demon War.
Only four years had passed since the age of peace began. No matter how complacent they had grown, they were still soldiers who remembered what it meant to serve on active duty.
In other words, they were far too elite to serve as the first opponents of twenty-first-century transmigrators with almost no combat experience.
Had their objective been to kill the intruders from the beginning, the battle would already have ended.
The boatswain gave a faint smile and shouted.
“Students! Isn’t it about time you stopped and put down your weapons?”
“When is Mr. Ivan finally going to get here?!”
Just as Yuri’s tearful scream grew increasingly shrill, the deck began to tremble.
Rrrrrrrumble…!
“W-What…?!”
“Get to the helm! Go check the wheelhouse! What’s happening? Duty officer!”
“What about the captain?!”
From beneath the deck came the grinding sound of the keel twisting.
Then a tremendous impact struck the deck as though the entire hull had exploded.
Soldiers and transmigrators alike staggered, fell, and rolled across the floor.
“What is this?”
“Did Mr. Ivan do something…?”
Oswald braced himself against the floor and regained his balance before suddenly raising his head.
An enormous amount of mana—
No, a flow of mana incorporating an extraordinary degree of technique—was visible to his eyes.
Dark-green mana surged into the ship’s interior like a violent storm.
Bang!
KWAANG!
The explosions were drawing closer.
“No. That isn’t Mr. Ivan. This is…”
Oswald narrowed his eyes.
A dense mass of mana gathered in the middle of the deck.
“Move!!”
KWAAAAAANG!!
Yuri hurled aside Eugene, whose mind had been driven wild by the valor enhancement, then grabbed Oswald by the back of his collar and leaped away.
A massive crack split open in the center of the deck, and something shot out from below.
The object spun in midair, reversed its body, and landed beside the transmigrators.
It was a flawless breakfall, as precise as though measured with a ruler.
“Mr. Ivan!”
“Mm.”
The acrid stench of burning rose from Ivan’s body.
Still gripping his axe, he calmly stared straight ahead.
“Excellent! To refine such conviction in a world where peace has been preserved like a specimen!”
“S-Sir Veolgrin?!”
The sailors’ eyes widened as though they might pop from their sockets.
At their reaction, Ivan narrowed his eyes.
What is this?
He deceived even his fellow elves?
Why bother?
If the Calion Archipelago had intended to support Aleksandr on a national level, there would have been no need for such unnecessarily secretive methods.
“Um, Mr. Ivan. Could you explain what exactly is going on here…?”
Oswald stared in confusion at Veolgrin, who was floating in the air.
As an elf, he had met Veolgrin several times before.
He was an incredible—
No, an overwhelmingly powerful mage.
And now that very being was hovering above their heads, preparing an offensive spell.
“Was I a little short?”
“You almost succeeded.”
Veolgrin looked down at Ivan with an amused smile.
He had lost one arm.
I owe Sir August an apology.
Veolgrin gave a bitter smile and continued.
“Your appearance was unexpected, but… it seems I provoked Princess Elizaveta more than I intended. I had planned to visit in secret under somewhat friendlier circumstances.”
When he raised his remaining hand, dark-green mana swirled thickly around him.
Ivan watched silently while preparing to throw his axe.
If even one of the transmigrators could diVer Veolgrin’s attention, Ivan might be able to find an opening for victory.
However, neither the battlefield nor the situation favored him.
“We will meet again someday. For now, the circumstances are unfavorable.”
“Veolgrin.”
“How much do you know about Crown Prince Aleksandr? Do you remain loyal to your sovereign even though you know about ‘that’?”
“…What?”
Veolgrin swept his hand through the air.
An enormous mass of mana formed into the shape of a hand and lifted the carriage that had been lodged in one corner of the deck.
A commotion and screams came from inside.
Soon, the door opened with a violent clatter.
“Come out.”
“W-What is the meaning of this uproar?! W-We came here for the secret agreement…!”
“Shh. Quiet.”
Veolgrin swung his remaining arm.
The middle-aged man who had poked his head out of the carriage was seized by mana and lifted into the air.
“So Aleksandr did not come in person after all. What is your name?”
“N-Nikolai Slapanovo Rurik…! I-I came with full authority from this nation’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs! Y-You cannot harm me!”
“Oh. It seems you have no idea whom you are speaking to.”
Veolgrin gave a faint laugh and slowly approached the man.
He placed his right hand atop the man’s head and whispered,
“Tell me. Where is Crown Prince Aleksandr now?”
Dark-green mana churned beneath his palm.
It coiled like serpents and burrowed into the man’s ears and eyes.
The expression gradually vanished from the man’s face.
With a vacant stare, he muttered,
“His Highness is waiting at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs…”
“So you knew nothing. What a waste of time.”
There was a wet crunch, and the man’s head went limp.
Veolgrin tossed him aside as though discarding garbage, then slowly descended onto the deck.
“What is all this? Veolgrin, what were you planning?”
Ivan narrowed his eyes.
When Veolgrin said he had provoked Elizaveta in order to contact Aleksandr, Ivan had naturally assumed that the Calion Archipelago was supporting the crown prince and attempting to interfere in Krasilov’s internal affairs.
No other conclusion had seemed possible.
Yet Veolgrin had suddenly killed the envoy.
And he had asked for Crown Prince Aleksandr’s location?
“The crown prince currently in this city is not the real one. Hmm… there are countless things left for us to discuss, but I cannot speak of them.”
Veolgrin opened and closed his mouth several times before frowning.
“A restriction has been placed upon me. Unless you discover the truth yourself, I cannot tell it to you. Sadly, mages are people who bind the laws of heaven.”
“Why didn’t you tell me from the beginning? If you never intended to sign a secret agreement with Aleksandr, then had you warned me in advance…”
“Then I could not have confirmed your qualifications. Nor could I have known which side you stood on. I believed you were dead, did I not? This was necessary.”
Veolgrin shrugged.
The mana surrounding him was gradually fading away.
“I do not have much time left. Visit my tower in Calion someday. You likely will not be able to meet me in person, but… Ivan. Our scout. You are qualified.”
“What qualification?”
“The qualification to turn the final page of truth. The qualification to look upon the hands moving the pieces on this game board. Ah, damn it.”
A crack suddenly spread across Veolgrin’s face.
He touched it once, then sighed.
“It is far too cruel that I cannot even say this much. Mages are talkative by nature.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Prepare yourself. It appears that the university beneath our feet is the board for this particular game. Many days lie spread out below.”
“Prepare…?”
“Those fellows are not bad, but they were not pieces prepared from the beginning. They suddenly appeared on a chessboard… Yes. Perhaps they could be called playing cards. So pay attention to the chess pieces as well. Take good care of my daughter.”
Veolgrin’s face gradually faded.
Just before he disappeared completely, he stared directly at Ivan and moved his lips.
No sound emerged, but Ivan instinctively read them through lip-reading.
‘Maximilien has not disappeared.’
With a faint smile, Veolgrin’s mana vanished completely.
***
The disturbance aboard the deck never reached the citizens of Pritchenkaya.
To them, the aerial battleship merely remained floating peacefully in the sky as usual.
Ivan and the transmigrators were able to return to the ground under the terrified captain’s send-off.
After abandoning the half-destroyed carriage in a corner of an alley, Ivan studied the transmigrators.
A game board.
Cards placed upon a chessboard.
Was he supposed to interpret that as different games, governed by different rules, becoming mixed together?
What kind of story did these people require?
What story had been prepared, and what course of events was being guided?
Who were the hands moving the pieces upon the board?
A god?
Ivan looked at Eugene, who had been capable of using divine magic.
Perhaps because the effect of [Bestow Valor] had ended, Eugene now wore an utterly exhausted and vacant expression.
“Those divine spell slots. Do you still have them?”
“What? Ah, yes.”
“Show me.”
Unlike ordinary magic, divine spells were a kind of blessing directly granted by a god.
They were spells enacted through a human body acting as an agent of divine will.
In other words, the existence of divine spell slots meant that Eugene’s “status window” had effectively received a god’s authorization.
No—
Perhaps it was a channel of communication created by a god.
By a personal deity of this damned premodern fantasy world.
Especially considering that it even contained elaborate systems such as quest windows.
“You all worked hard today. Go back and rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Wait, Brother. That’s it? We’re just ending here?”
“Tomorrow.”
Ivan watched the departing transmigrators for a moment before turning away.
He could not bring them to the place where he would make his report.
Especially after what had happened today, they could not be allowed to become any more deeply involved.
Had this merely been an incident caused by the political struggle between the princess and the crown prince, then choosing one side and securing a decisive victory might have been preferable.
However, now that he had heard that the crown prince in Pritchenkaya was not the real Aleksandr, the matter had gone far beyond anything students could resolve.
All the more so when those students were children who had only been transmigrated for four years.
How many years had it been?
Ivan wondered as he walked through the streets at night.
Remembering the last time he had seen Colonel kirillonova, Ivan headed toward Counterintelligence Command.
It was time to face the princess.