Archdemon Zagan... can he really be defeated? Even Valjakka, who’d served as an Archangel for over ten years, had his confidence shaken by what he saw. As Ginias’ elder, it was appropriate to encourage him while he was down. And just as he’d cheered himself up with that sense of responsibility...
“Oops, my bad.”
It seemed some drunk bumped into him from the side.
“It’s fine. Be more care...ful?”
Just as he replied, he realized something was out of place.
How did this man get so close to me...? Even if he was drunk, someone managed to step within the range of an Archangel without him noticing. And as he was about to turn to face the man, he sensed something out of place in his abdomen.
“What... Huh?”
As he looked down, he saw a dagger deeply planted in his stomach.
“U-UWA—OMPH?!”
Just as he tried to scream, a piece of wood was jammed in his mouth. Standing before him was a young man with a sickly face. He had a countless number of amulets dangling from his neck. Valjakka could tell that this was a sorcerer at a glance.
“Shut your trap. I’ve got a headache from a lack of sleep. Don’t squawk like that. If you get it, then blink. Just once.”
Who is this man...?! Valjakka tried to resist, but he suddenly realized the situation he was in. The thing that defined him, his Sacred Sword, wasn’t at his side. It was jammed in his mouth by the hilt. The dagger that he usually carried wasn’t on his belt. It was lodged in his stomach. And above all else, even though he could feel something stabbed into his abdomen, he terrifyingly couldn’t feel any pain.
And now, having come to a full understanding of just how cornered he was, he began to tremble violently. After blinking once in a panic, the man before him stifled a yawn.
“Ah, how’d it go? Oh yeah... You’re the one who isolated the crybaby and leaked information to Shere Khan, right?”
Valjakka shook with a start, and the sorcerer continued speaking while languidly scratching his head.
“Frankly, I think it’d be way easier just to kill you. But my employer requested we give you a simple warning. Well, I guess the crybaby will be suspected if I kill you here.”
Valjakka had no idea who this crybaby the sorcerer kept referring to was. And ignoring his confusion, the sorcerer pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket. It seemed to be some sort of memo, and he began reading it aloud while clearly finding it tiresome.
“Anyways, here’s your warning. Umm, let’s see... First. You’re prohibited from taking any action that would put Chastille at a disadvantage. Second. You’re prohibited from taking any action that would put the other Archangels at a disadvantage as long as you don’t violate the above. Third. Devote yourself to the people, as long as you don’t violate the above. So it says.”
The sorcerer cackled.
“Well ain’t that nice? All you gotta do is live a nice and clean life. Just be a nice little church boy. Oh yeah, one more thing. This is just a warning, so you got no obligation to follow along. Meaning it’s fine for you to ignore it.”
Valjakka had no idea what was so funny. The sorcerer began laughing heartily and slapping his thighs as he tightened his grip on the dagger.
“Anyway, this here is my sorcery. This dagger is passing through your stomach. It both exists and doesn’t. Oh, looks like you don’t get it. Basically, it only half exists in this world. Kinda like a ghost.”
With that, the sorcerer twisted the dagger and pushed it up toward Valjakka’s heart. There was no pain, but he could feel a foreign object moving through his body. The feeling was driving him mad.
“Whoa there, don’t move a muscle. This is quite the delicate sorcery. Messing it up will mean death. For you. Get it?”
The dagger went from his heart to his neck, and from his neck to his face, where it stopped, piercing into his head through his brow.
“So, here’s your problem. This thing sticking outta your head will materialize just from me being in a bad mood. The same goes if I croak. The moment the sorcery is undone, your head will split in two. So if you go and ignore the warning I went outta my way to give you... well, I won’t be in a good mood.”
Valjakka couldn’t even breathe from the sheer terror. A shamefully wet feeling spread out from his crotch, and a nasty smell shrouded over him. The sorcerer plainly grimaced upon noticing this.
“...Don’t piss yourself. How pathetic. Well, you do get it then, right? So, next.”
There’s more?! He almost wanted to beg this man to kill him if this were to continue. However, at the same time, he knew that if he opened his mouth now, he’d be begging for his life.
And as the sorcerer coldly looked down on Valjakka...
“Hey, you’ve known the crybaby for a while, right? Oh, you can talk now.”
The sorcerer pulled the Sacred Sword from Valjakka’s mouth. And holding back his urge to vomit, Valjakka replied.
“C-Crybaby? Wh-Who’s that?”
“I’m talking about Chastille, you idiot. You don’t even know that?”
There’s no way he would. Valjakka trembled in anger from the irrationality that was thrust before him.
“Th-That’s right. I’ve known her... since we were children!”
The sorcerer nodded in satisfaction.
“...Then answer me. Um... she got... a favorite food or something?”
The sorcerer making a villainous expression seemed to be setting Chastille as his next target. He was telling Valjakka to sell out the girl that he thought of as his own little sister.
I’ve already sold her out once! Like that matters! So Valjakka spoke of everything he could think of.
“Sh-She really cherishes stuffed bears! A-Also, the food in her house was terrible! So even slightly good food gets her excited! And... and... she’s extremely open around children! She especially likes anything cute!”
Even Valjakka was wondering what on earth he was saying, but the sorcerer took out a pen from his pocket in a hurry.
“H-Hang on! I need to write this down. Uh, she has stuffed bears? Huh? Never seen any... Also, good food? Guess she likes sweets... Shit, what a blind spot. And cute things, huh? As for kids... Well, whatever.”
He was talking like a man trying to buy a present for the girl he liked for some reason, but Valjakka believed this to be some dreadful scheme of a sorcerer and didn’t suspect a thing at all. The man then pulled out some sort of metal ornament. It was likely some tool of sorcery, though it looked like a hair ornament modeled after a butterfly wing.
“Last question. Do you think this matches the crybaby’s taste?”
“I-I don’t... Wait! I mean, I think she’ll like it! I’m sure it suits her!”
“Th-That so? She’ll like it? Mmm... Looks like my choice was right. Mmm...”
The sorcerer began nodding his head repeatedly in relief for some reason. He then looked at Valjakka as if he had forgotten he was there.
“Oh, I’m done with you. You can leave now.”
He let go of the dagger, and it fell to the ground with a clunk. Though, the handle had no blade, and Valjakka could still feel a foreign object in his head.
I-I’m being spared? He fell to his knees, while the sorcerer began sinking away into his own shadow.
“P-Please wait! I was threatened by Shere Khan! Wh-What do I do?!”
It began five years ago, during the rare species hunt. The company of Angelic Knights Valjakka led encountered Archdemon Shere Khan and was annihilated. That was also when Chastille’s older brother died. However, as the wielder of a Sacred Sword, Valjakka was kept alive at Shere Khan’s convenience in exchange for delivering him information from within the church.
After five years, he thought Shere Khan had died and he was released from his obligation. And yet, he appeared once more. That’s why he’d guided the twins who called themselves his emissaries into the treasury, and why he’d worked to isolate Chastille to weaken Zagan’s influence. The sorc
erer looked completely exasperated, almost as if he was looking at trash.
“Like I care. You’ll die either way, so just pick whichever way you wanna go.”
“Wh-Why?! Why is Raphael forgiven while I have to go through all this?!”
That’s what he couldn’t understand the most. Even though he was being reduced to such a miserable state, why was Raphael trusted like he was the right-hand man of an Archdemon? Both of them were defeated by an Archdemon, so why were they treated so differently?
“It’s a difference in... what’d you guys call it? Chivalrous spirit, ain’t it? Not that I’m one to talk about that crap.”
And with that, the sorcerer vanished without taking another look back at Valjakka, who was left sobbing in shame.
◇
Back to the present, there was one other thing that had Barbatos exhausted.
I got intel on her tastes, but how do I hand this over? He had the butterfly hair ornament in his pocket. Over ten days had passed since he’d gotten it. There was surely something wrong with him for worrying over this to begin with. And the more self aware he was of it, the harder it got to hand it over.
With no way of knowing of Barbatos’ suffering, Chastille gazed at the clock as she muttered.
“I think it’s about time for Kuroka’s treatment to start. I hope it goes well...”
“Aah, Zagan and his elf are doing the healing, was it? Well, won’t it just work out?”
To put it bluntly, Barbatos didn’t really care what happened to the cat lady. She was brimming with bloodthirst any time she saw him, so he would even prefer if she just stayed over at Zagan’s castle while she was there and settle down. Nephteros was over there with her too, so the church was rather quiet today.
In short, this was the best opportunity to hand Chastille her present. That’s why Barbatos had come out of the shadows and was in a fluster.
“You’re right. I need to believe in her as her friend.”
Chastille seemed to be trying to persuade herself, but she looked restless and fidgety while sitting at her office desk.
“Hey crybaby, if you gotta take a piss then you’re better off going now.”
“Even I’ll get angry you know?”
“Hah? You don’t have to? Then what’s got you all fidgety?”
After having that pointed out to her, Chastille’s face suddenly turned red.
“Th-That’s, um... haven’t you... noticed anything?”
“Huh?”
Barbatos sat up on the sofa and straightened himself up. He then took another look at Chastille.
“You’ve got a new medal on your lapel?”
“Huh? Yeah. It was for my deeds during the defense of Raziel the other... Not that!”
Apparently, his guess was wrong. He couldn’t see anything else about the way she was dressed, so he stood up and took a closer look at her face.
“Then... the string you’re using to tie up your hair is different from usual?”
“The one I usually use just happened to snap this morning, so... W=wait, why can you tell?”
“I mean, I can tell that much from being stuck with you every day, right?”
If Zagan, or any of the Angelic Knights for that matter, were around, they’d surely answer, “Like anyone could tell.” However, they were the only two in this room, so Chastille simply touched her hair in a fluster.
“I-I see. So you can tell because we’ve spent so much time together...”
It was like she was relieved, and surprised. Her tone was quite complicated. She then suddenly shook both her hands in front of her.
“Ah, wrong! Why don’t you notice the scent when you can tell stuff like that?!”
“Scent?”
Chastille stood and bent over her desk, and Barbatos got even closer. Her eyes were twirling about in circles as she raised a shrill voice.
“I-I mean, when I asked you if I smelled sweaty last time, you brushed it off in a weird way! S-So, um, I borrowed perfumed oil from Nephy, and, and...”
“Huh? Now that you mention it, you kinda smell sweet, huh?”
“D-D-D-D-D-Don’t sniff me, you idiot!”
“Ugh!”
Chastille thrust him back with all her strength, and Barbatos tumbled back over onto the couch.
Why’d she flip out on me?
Seeing Barbatos flip head over heels so splendidly, even Chastille turned pale.
“Oh, uh, s-sorry... I didn’t mean to.”
He didn’t really get it, but this likely meant there was still some female sensibility left within this amazon. That was surely something to be happy about. Probably. Barbatos let out a sigh and sat back up.
“So, you’ve been trying to up your charm?”
“I-I haven’t thrown away my sense of being a woman or any— Huh?”
Chastille averted her gaze and tried to make an excuse when a metal ornament was placed snugly in her hand.
“If you’re trying to look more charming, then at least wear something like this.”
“What...? Uhhh, you’re giving it to me? Why?”
“Huh? Well, ’cause I saw a real hottie wearing one the other day!”
“Why are you getting angry?”
Chastille was confused by his unreasonable anger, but the flow of their conversation was the same as usual. She then put the hair ornament on where her hair was bundled up.
“How is it?”
“...Not bad, I guess?”
“If you’re saying that, then I’m sure it suits me. Heehee.”
“Quit twisting my words!”
The season had completely passed, so he couldn’t get Chastille to notice that this was a present for Alshiere Imera, but she took out a hand mirror and smiled as she looked at it.
Well, whatever. I managed to hand it over. Looks like she likes it, too... Seeing that smile of hers was reward enough in his mind.
◇
“I’ll be in your care.”
Around the same time, in the throne room of Zagan’s castle. The day to treat Kuroka’s eyes had come. Shax was standing by her side, and the two of them were tightly squeezing each other’s hands. Other than them and Nephy, who was doing the treatment, Zagan, Nephteros, and Raphael were all present in the room.
Nephy quietly took a few deep breaths and sat down in front of Kuroka. In the end, she was unable to find any other means than to depend on mysticism.
It’s all right. Master Zagan even took me out for a change of pace. Nephy’s body stiffened up from the tension.
“...Are you okay? You’re white as a sheet.”
“I’m fine, Nephteros.”
Zagan was of course right next to her watching over her attentively. She was in peak condition. All that was left was to believe in herself. Nephy suppressed her rapidly beating heart and gathered her resolve.
“Then let’s begin.”
The essence of mysticism was prayer. It was a technique where one prayed to the countless spirits and waited for them to be granted. That was why Nephy threw away all hesitation and earnestly prayed. And yet...
Will the spirits really answer me? This power wasn’t one she acquired because she wanted it. That’s why she never tried to properly face it. And yet, if she only relied on it at times like these, would the spirits truly answer her so conveniently? Such doubts welled up within her for but an instant. Nephy drove out her weak self from her heart in the next moment and focused on her prayer.
However, that instant of hesitation gradually encroached on her mysticism. Her chest grew cold, then...
“That’s not how you do it. You need to direct your prayers within yourself.”
A voice like a tumbling bell resounded in the air. Nephy was taken aback by this and opened her eyes when she noticed a girl with white hair was right there next to her. The girl wearing the armor of an Angelic Knight placed both her hands atop Nephy’s.
“There is no god in the world. If there is, it only exists within you. That’s why you direct your pra
yers within yourself. Believe in yourself. That’s the way to use mysticism.”
This girl was someone Nephy had only met once or twice, and this one instant was the first time she’d seen her face. And yet, her words resonated within Nephy’s heart to a surprising extent.
“Right!”
I need to believe in myself... Nephy stayed by Zagan’s side, she made friends with Chastille and Manuela, she gained a daughter in Foll, and she even had a sister, Nephteros. She was loved by many. And so, she prayed. She prayed that she wouldn’t feel shame in being loved and faced forward.
I see. That’s the part of me that I want to believe in... Nephy wanted to be someone suitable for all the love she received. Surely, that Nephy would not stumble over something like this. She would surely heal Kuroka’s eyes perfectly without leaving any after-effects. The mysticism that was beginning to waver stabilized and became calm like the surface of a lake. The throne room sank into silence.
“I-Is it over?” Shax timidly asked.
And after Nephy nodded, just as Kuroka was about to open her eyes...
“Oh, please wait a moment.”
Nephy stopped her, then turned Kuroka toward Shax.
The first person Kuroka should see, and the first person she should have see her, is this man... He looked flustered for a moment, but he immediately worked up his courage. Then, he kneeled before Kuroka and lined his sights with hers.
“Okay, Kurosuke.”
Kuroka’s cat ears quivered with a twitch. Her red eyes were then slowly revealed. And upon reflecting the exhausted young man, large tears formed within them. Unable to bear it any longer, Kuroka covered her face.
“H-How’d it go...?”
“I can... see... It’s still a little blurry. But I can properly... see your face,” Kuroka said as she returned a small nod to Shax.
“Ah—! Thank goodness.”
“Eep?”
Faced with Kuroka’s heartfelt smile, Shax embraced her without hesitation. And as a scruffy feeling scratched against her face, she timidly wrapped her arms around his back. Behind them, Raphael seemed to be trying his best to endure something and was gripping his arm so hard it felt like he would tear it right off. However, Nephy didn’t have the spare energy to ask him what was wrong.
An Archdemon's Dilemma: How to Love Your Elf Bride: Volume 9 Page 21
