Bean’s face lit up. “Yes, yes!” He nodded enthusiastically. “That’s right, as soon as you can. Bring back my wife. And then the three of us can share a joyous reunion as a family!”
Ferris didn’t respond to this but walked closer to the body on the bed. He reached out to the woman, who looked just as if she were sleeping, and let mana run into the lifeless body.
“When did she die? It looks like she’s been here a while.”
“More than two years ago. I’ve been periodically using magic to prevent the body’s decay… The smell is the only thing I haven’t been able to do anything about. But if you can bring her back, then there’s no problem. She’s not like the other corpses around here with their rotting flesh. The body itself is exactly as it was when she died.”
Two years ago. That would have been the year of the birthday celebration for Crusch that Ferris remembered so vividly. That year had been a turning point for him, and apparently it had been for his parents, as well.
He let his mana run through every inch of the body, and found that Bean had been telling the truth. Other than the lack of functions necessary for life, his mother was so well preserved one would never have thought she was dead.
She truly was just as she had been at the moment of her passing…
“Felix. There is much I want to talk about, but I will restrain myself. For now, concentrate everything on what’s before you. Is your mistress not precious to you? Don’t fail her now. Or else—”
“Can I ask just one more thing?” Ferris broke in, touching his dead mother’s forehead. He looked back at Bean, who had swallowed the rest of what he had been about to say. Ferris fixed him with a keen gaze.
“—Who was it who stabbed my mother to death?”
12
Crusch focused her attention as scratching footsteps came down into the basement. Her gaze found the cruel-faced slaver, eliciting a rasp from him.
“The poison should’ve worn off by now, hmm? Let’s have a chat, my little princess.” Miles smirked at Crusch where she was chained to the wall.
She sighed at his lascivious stare. “Not a very polite look you have.”
“I can’t stand arrogance. Many men enjoy seeing a prideful woman slowly brought to heel—myself among them.”
“Not a very polite hobby you have, either.” Her words gave no sign of weakness, but Miles seemed downright pleased.
It had been hours since Bean had left her in the underground room. By Crusch’s estimation, Bardok, her military adviser, should already have the mansion surrounded. But she couldn’t sense any such thing happening. Something seemed to have gone wrong.
“The Sacrament of the Immortal King—unbelievable. What better way to flout the kingdom’s laws?”
“Heh! That’s the duchess for you. Not many know about the sacrament.”
“It’s a secret spell that’s largely kept out of public view, but there are records of its use during the demi-human war… I doubt you’re the one who used it. It must have been Bean Argyle.”
“Goodness gracious me. How do you think so keenly in this reeking chamber?” He scrunched up his face at the stench that drifted through the room, but nonetheless, this confirmed her suspicions. Crusch, of course, had only the awful smell in the underground room to go on; she had no idea whether the sacrament had actually been used. The hint came with Miles: He had brought undead warriors with him, as if to display them to her.
“If you’re trying to intimidate me, then I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Crusch said.
“Shouldn’t a girl who sees a walking corpse just give a sweet little scream? Frankly, even I feel my blood run cold when I look at them.”
“I’m afraid I left my girlishness behind long ago,” Crusch said with the suggestion of a smile. Miles, accompanied by several of the zombies, looked at her in exasperation. But his expression soon changed, and he pointed to the ceiling above the bound Crusch.
“Well, my little princess, since you’re ignorant of what’s going on outside, let me bring you the news. A knight has arrived to save the captured princess. Though he hardly looked like one.”
“—”
Miles was probably talking about Ferris. He was supposed to be in the capital—but for her sake, he had come back to the Karsten lands after just a short time. And Fourier was involved in it, she was almost certain. She pictured herself telling him that he could use his judgment if things went badly.
“I just can’t outdo His Highness…” Her own ineptness had produced this situation. She hated her foolishness, but she was also overjoyed that the two of them would go to such lengths to ensure her safety. She heaved a sigh.
Miles continued his gloating. “Bean had some demand for that knight. I don’t know what he might do if the boy actually gives him what he wants, but I know it’s nothing I agreed to.”
“Oh, isn’t it?”
“Think about it. Only people of a very specific bloodline can use this spell to raise the dead. Do you think I would let it slip through my fingers so easily? The moment people die, they become laborers with unlimited endurance.”
“I see now. You were never in league with Bean philosophically. It was always about the slave trade for you. In fact…it’s not even slave trading anymore, is it? You’ve stooped to simple grave robbing.”
Miles only laughed, appearing unmoved by Crusch’s barb.
So they had been wrong to suspect the House of Argyle of slaving. What Miles had been bringing them over the months were not slaves but a vast number of corpses. His role had been to procure the bodies that would be used to test the Sacrament of the Immortal King.
“Incidentally, the kingdom has no laws against the selling of dead bodies. It may not be the most reputable business in the world, but it’s not a crime. You understand?” Miles said mockingly.
At first blush, it seemed like a good excuse. But for it to work, the country would have to close its eyes to one crucial thing.
“You’re right,” Crusch said, “we can’t get you on charges of slave trading. But how do you expect to explain away what you’ve done to me? Kidnapping and imprisoning a duchess, not to mention the use of forbidden magic. Those are crimes. Far more serious ones than slaving.”
“Yes, we do have a problem there. If I were to be arrested, I doubt I’d avoid the most terrible punishment they could pass down on me. So I have a request of you, my princess. I thought perhaps you and your knight could help see me safely back to my home country.”
Miles looked like he might lick his chops as he made this suggestion. Crusch could sense confidence in his words, a strong wind that said this was not a bluff. That meant he believed he had some way out of this net.
“Frankly, it’s not easy to take your word. You think you can get Ferris and me out through that battlefield?”
“Not easily, if you don’t agree to cooperate. I won’t do anything bad to you. Once I’m safely back in Volakia, you and your attendant can spend the rest of your days together. I’ll negotiate it, don’t you worry. I confess I fell for you at first sight, Princess.”
“A hobby that’s in very poor taste.” She didn’t believe his profession of love, but he was certainly looking at her with plenty of lust. She thought she could just glimpse a shadowy figure behind Miles’s forceful actions. If she could only get him to tell her who was pulling his strings…
“If you won’t do as I ask, I’ll have to resort to less pleasant methods to get you to come along. But I don’t enjoy hurting women, so I’ll have to find someone else… Yes, I think your little friend will do nicely.”
“—”
“That always works best with your type. Rather than hurting you, it’s best to hurt someone you care about. When I get a good, clear scream out of him, I’m sure you’ll—”
“Fool.”
“Hah?”
Miles had brought Ferris up as his last resort, but now Crusch spoke over him. Miles frowned as Crusch stood up. He looked at her feet, where she should have
been chained to the ground.
“Wait! How can you stand? You’re supposed to be bound hand and foot—”
“Looks like you got distracted. Are you surprised? You should have been suspicious the moment you noticed my clear vision!”
“Feh! Damn. So it’s straight to plan B, is it, Princess?” As Crusch shook her head, he sucked his teeth and set one of his undead warriors on her.
Crusch dodged the arms of the advancing creature. The last vestiges of the poison made her slightly unsteady, but her burgeoning anger made her forget her infirmity.
“There are still some questions I want to ask you, but my patience has its limits. I will overlook your incivility to me and even your violence. But threatening Ferris—my knight—that I will not forgive.”
“Oh, won’t you? And what exactly will you do with your thin, womanly arms and your hands chained?” Miles glared at Crusch, who he had backed up against the wall, and gave a hideous smile, seeing that he once again had the upper hand.
But as he spoke, Crusch raised her hands. The cuffs fell away with a click.
“Wha?!”
“It would have been no more of a problem for me if they had remained bound—But regardless, let me show you what I will do.”
Although her hands and feet were free, Crusch had no weapons—but she took up a fighting stance anyway. The underground room was dark and thick with stench. But to Crusch’s eyes, everything shone clearly through that fetid air. She didn’t miss the slightest gust of wind. She entrusted her swordsman’s spirit—her mana—to that breeze, and she lashed out with her vision.
“—”
She spoke no words, but the body of the undead warrior advancing toward her suddenly buckled. And not only the one approaching her; the same thing happened to all the zombies in the room. The same wound appeared on all of them, as though a massive sword had sliced across them, and their briefly resumed lives succumbed once more to death.
This was what had allowed her to deal so easily with the Giant Rabbits, the technique that had earned Duchess Crusch Karsten the nickname “the Valkyrie.” The technique One Blow, One Hundred Felled. After her exceptionally high-level attack, Crusch clenched her hand to dissipate the blade of wind she held and looked around the basement.
“That’s…the end for Miles, I believe.” Most of the corpses had already been dead when she used the technique, but she spotted Miles among them. He was soaked in blood and not so much as twitching. In an undefended moment, he had taken Crusch’s blow and shared the same fate as his zombies. Crusch closed her eyes, acknowledging her own inexperience and her failure to take him alive.
“When he mentioned Ferris, I lost my cool…” Remembering what had brought this on, she shook her head. But soon she recentered herself. She had to find Ferris; no doubt he was only a short distance away upstairs.
“—Duchess of Karsten, are you here?!”
She heard footsteps on the stairs, and a long shadow stretched into the basement room. It was followed by a man in the uniform of the royal guard, who blinked with astonishment and relief when he saw her. The moment she looked at him, she knew whose orders he must have come on.
“I’m fine. You’re a servant of His Highness Fourier, aren’t you? Good work finding this underground room.”
“Thank goodness you’re safe. I’m Julius Juukulius of the royal guard. His Highness told me of this room… He thought you might be confined down here.”
“I see. I shouldn’t have worried him so.” It was relief, more than surprise, that Crusch felt at Julius’s words. She smiled gently, and a look of empathy came over Julius’s face, but he quickly shook his head.
“I don’t mean to rush you when you must be exhausted, but getting you out of this mansion is my priority. We must hurry.”
“You seem impatient. Is there trouble above us?” She detected a whiff of fretfulness from him, and it suggested that all was not well. In response, Julius looked at the ceiling.
“—The building is on fire. We have to get out before it comes down on our heads.”
13
“—Who was it who stabbed my mother to death?”
Bean was visibly shaken by Ferris’s question. He had held himself in check as he descended into his world of madness. Nothing Ferris had said had made any impression on him, but this question drew out an obvious reaction.
“S-stabbed her? What are you…?”
“There’s no point trying to hide it. You’re actually pretty good at preserving dead bodies. Everything looks just like it did the day she passed…including the cause of death.”
It was impossible to defy the laws of healing magic. The basic principle of Ferris’s discipline was to encourage the body’s natural healing abilities, helping the body to become more capable of helping itself. But of course, a dead body had no natural healing capacity, which was why it was technically not possible to heal the wounds of a corpse—although there were exceptions.
“My mother was stabbed—repeatedly. Over and over, so many times. This… Even I feel bad for her.”
His heart hurt. Although Ferris felt nothing for her as his mother, no one deserved to die in such a cruel way. But another thought accompanied this one: Such a homicidal rage was unlikely to be the work of a passerby, a stranger. If there was anyone in the past several years who had hated his mother enough to kill her, it was…
“What’s that expression? …What a way to look at your father. What—what are you saying I did?!”
“I’m not saying anything at all.”
“You are! Your eyes say it! Do you think it was wrong of me? Do you, too, think I was mistaken? Looking at me with those critical eyes every day—! Who could blame me, knowing I’d been betrayed by the one I loved?! I swear it was not my fault!”
Ferris didn’t have to try to pry the truth out of his father. Bean confessed it practically of his own free will.
Ferris didn’t know what had happened in the Argyle household since the Karstens had taken him away. But clearly, his parents had had some kind of falling out. And things had been done which could never be undone. His mother’s corpse was proof of that.
“Is it guilt that makes you want to bring her back? Because you want to apologize?”
“Do you mock me?! I want the one I love to live, to live and live! Doesn’t everyone?!” Bean was frothing at the mouth. He tore at his head, ruining his carefully styled hair. “When you lose something precious to you, you’ll understand! No, your mother is dead! Do you feel nothing?! You must want her back…! Don’t you want her back? Can any child abandon the love of his parents? Quickly, now! Return her to life! Or—or don’t you care what happens to your beloved mistress? Do you need her to die before you understand—understand how I feel?!”
“—”
In the face of Bean’s onslaught, Ferris realized talk would do no good. A faint blue light shimmered around his hands, and he quietly transferred it to his mother’s corpse. Somehow, the moment looked almost sacred. And then the corpse’s eyes drifted open.
“H—Hannah! Oh! Hannah!” Bean was ecstatic as the body shifted, sat itself up. He nearly shoved Ferris out of the way as he took up a place at the bedside. Ferris watched as his parents shared a reunion, even though one of them had been dead only moments before.
“Hannah! I’ve been waiting for this moment! For us to be like this again—”
“—”
With tears in his eyes, Bean supported his wife as she sat up, but she said nothing. She stared into the face of her husband. She gently raised her hands and placed them on Bean’s cheeks. He smiled at the feeling of them, and Hannah, too, smiled faintly. It was a reaction that would not have been possible for a mere moving corpse, like one of the undead warriors.
And then…
“H-Han…nah…?”
Suddenly she was wringing the surprised rasp out of Bean. Her hands were around his neck, which creaked under a strength that the dead woman’s thin arms should not have had.
�
�Whh—at is-s…? Feeli—x…!” He looked to his son, his eyes begging for help.
“Go see the person you love, wherever she is. That’s what I’m going to do,” Ferris responded quietly. Bean’s face went rigid with shock, but Ferris showed not a hint of a reaction. “I won’t let anyone take her from me. Especially the people who stole everything from me. She gave me something, and you’ll never have it from me. I’ll never give you any of the things I got when I became a person.”
“Hrk… Hrrk…”
“Laying a finger on Lady Crusch was your first mistake—If you hadn’t, I…”
He had his hand to his chest, but he couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. He closed his mouth.
Even if he could have said the words, Bean wouldn’t have heard them. The strength had already left his arms and legs, the light was gone from his eyes and the soul from his body. This was death, the absolute separation about which even Ferris could do nothing.
“…You should’ve just sent a letter.”
Ferris spoke into the limitless emptiness, and it was the truest thing he said. Maybe he would have torn it up. Maybe he never would have accepted it. But just maybe, he wouldn’t have done either. Just maybe, they would have had a chance to talk to each other.
With a gentle sigh, Ferris looked at Hannah. She looked back at him, still holding the limp form of the husband she had strangled, and smiled again.
Then her smile fell—literally—as she crumbled into a pile of powdery dust. A moment later, all that remained was a mound of his mother’s ashes, the corpse of his father buried among them.
As Ferris looked at his father, dead, and his mother, vanished, a voice devoid of emotion spoke to him.
“—Master Felix. Is this what you wanted for them both?”
It was the maid, who had remained with them throughout everything and kept silent until the very end.
Ferris shook his head. “…It’s not just that the spell book is incomplete. It was never a question of power as a spell caster. Using an awful spell like that—forcing a body that’s stopped to start again—of course it was going to break down right away.”
The Dream of the Lion King Page 17
