Bluesteel Blasphemer Volume 3

by Ichirou Sakaki

  Fiona was amazed by the lies that came fluently out of her own mouth, but she kept a gentle smile on her face. The trick when telling a huge lie like this was to pepper it with small truths. It was, of course, true that the Holy Mark device had been destroyed. Although it was Yukinari who had done it.

  “The missionaries later defeated the erdgod, but as so many of the townspeople were already believers, it was decided there was no need to rush the ceremony of the Holy Mark. Repairing the device and ordering new parts was put off while Mr. Lansdowne helped repair the damage the erdgod had done to our town.”

  “I see. That makes sense,” the woman said with a pronounced nod. “Well, our only business here was to deal with the escaped mercenary. If he’s not here, we’ll withdraw.” The woman—rudely never having given her name—calmly turned on her heel and made to leave. “Mr. Lansdowne, would you kindly see me out of town?”

  “Y- Er, um, yes, of course,” Arlen said with a strained smile. He looked back to see what Fiona was thinking, but she shot him a glance that silently said, Hurry up and get your nosy little friend out of here! He nodded eagerly and ushered the female knight from the room.

  For a long moment, Fiona listened to their footsteps recede down the hall, trying not to breathe. Only when she could no longer hear them did she let out a long exhalation.

  “Ahhhhh... What in the world just happened...?”

  The anger at the woman’s tremendous rudeness, as well as Arlen’s brainless way of handling the situation, didn’t bubble up until a few moments later.

  ●

  Both of them were silent after they left the Schillings mansion. They gathered up the three knights who had been waiting outside, Angela exchanging nods with them, after which they headed directly for the town gate. She had a soft smile on her face, but Arlen knew this was a permanent expression with her, even when she was boiling mad, and he honestly wasn’t sure he was going to survive the trip out of town. If she found out now that his unit hadn’t done their job, all the humiliation he had endured would be for nothing.

  Once they were past the gate, Angela stopped and turned back to him. “Mr. Lansdowne. I thank you for seeing me off.” Had they really managed to trick her? Arlen was just letting out an internal sigh of relief when Angela said, “If you don’t mind, there’s a few things I’d like to ask you before I go.”

  “Such as?” he replied, straining to appear calm.

  “Where are the other missionaries?”

  “They’re... patrolling the area right now.”

  “I’m sure they are. Yet I didn’t see a single other knight the whole time I was in town. Surely you don’t send every man out on patrol at once?”

  Arlen didn’t speak. That was exactly what they did.

  Of the personnel in Arlen’s Sixth Missionary Brigade, half had been badly wounded in the initial battle with Yukinari and were still recovering. Of the remaining half, some had flatly refused Yukinari’s proposal and were currently in confinement. The handful who were left over, including Arlen, had all been slated to go out on patrol today. Presumably they had gone ahead and started their sweep, albeit wondering why Arlen wasn’t at the meeting point. He had been careful to plot their route to the Schillings mansion so as not to run into the patrol, so it was only natural that Angela hadn’t seen any other missionaries.

  “And where is your guardian saint statue? And the wagon used to transport it? The only path around here large enough to accommodate it is the town’s main road. Yet I don’t see so much as ruts from the wheels.”

  Now Arlen was really stuck. The statue of the guardian saint was traditionally placed in the most eye-catching spot whenever a garrison was posted to a new town. From there it could gaze out over the entire village. Not to see it would certainly strike a fellow missionary as strange.

  “Don’t tell me it’s been damaged...?”

  “Y... Yes, I’m afraid it has. In the fight with the erdgod, part of it...”

  Come to think of it, Fiona had made up some nonsense about Arlen and the others losing much of their equipment when they were ambushed by the erdgod. If he drew on that, he might be able to get through this.

  She would never believe that the statue had been completely destroyed, but it was conceivable that a part of it might have been damaged. Even a sword, with enough use, might crack and need to be repaired. Weapons were always subject to wear and tear.

  “In that case, wouldn’t you request replacement parts from the Order’s headquarters?”

  “Well... there are utterly... c-complex circumstances... involved...”

  “Circumstances. Circumstances, you say?” Angela looked at him, still smiling.

  “Well, you see...” But Arlen’s wits weren’t quick enough to provide him with any further excuses. Sweating profusely, he fell silent.

  “...Really? Very well, then.” There was no telling what Angela thought of this, but she didn’t pursue the matter any further. Instead, with a smile, she said, “Let me give you this. Consider it a sign of my confidence that you retain your unwavering faith in our God.”

  She handed him a small leather pouch.

  Chapter Three: The Weak Ones’ Fight

  Yukinari hesitated.

  “Good. Next.”

  He was speaking to two people lying on their bellies. All three of them could feel a gentle breeze brushing their cheeks.

  They were back on the observation platform, where they’d been the day before. Yukinari, Berta, Dasa, and Veronika were there. And just as before, Ulrike had set up targets.

  Having confirmed that Derrringer worked and was basically accurate, Yukinari had decided to focus on improving the snipers rather than the guns. For that matter, Derrringer was so simple there wouldn’t have been much to improve even if he’d wanted to.

  “...Mn.”

  “Here goes...”

  Successive gunshots. Currently, Dasa and Berta were on the rifles. They had already gone through more than a hundred bullets each, adjusting their scopes and trying to get a feel for long-distance shooting. Veronika had joined them initially, but it simply didn’t seem to suit her at all, and she soon gave up.

  The targets were so far away that to the naked eye they looked like dots in the distance. You would take aim, steady your breath, and then gently—carefully, so as not to shake the gun—pull the trigger. It was a greater feat of nerves than it appeared.

  “Hm...” Yukinari squinted, holding up the simple binoculars he’d made to use during sniping practice.

  Dasa had missed. Berta had hit. In fact, her shots landed more often than Dasa’s.

  Dasa was much more used to handling the gun as such. She was much more confident, for example, in the loading, firing, and ejecting that made up a single shot. Sometimes, when taking out the ammo, Berta’s hand would slip and she would drop it. When using a gun, ideally you keep your eyes forward, readying the next bullet by feel alone, a difficult task if you’re not used to it.

  But for Dasa, who was used to Red Chili, Derrringer seemed confusing in many ways. That annoyed her, and her annoyance inevitably had an impact on her hit ratio.

  Berta, on the other hand, had never handled a gun, and if that meant she wasn’t used to it, it also meant she had no bad habits to uproot, and as a result could accept Derrringer for what it was.

  Actually..., Yukinari thought.

  It was Berta herself who had come asking to be allowed to participate in sniping practice today. He didn’t know the specifics, but Veronika seemed to have said something to her. Whatever the reason, it was an unusually proactive request from her. In fact, ever since she had expressed her desire to be a sniper, she had seemed exceptionally focused.

  It’s like this is all she has, he thought.

  Dasa had Red Chili and her knowledge of alchemy. Veronika, of course, had such great martial ability that she could stand against Arlen and his knights. The two of them had other ways and means of fighting. But Berta completely lacked any such ability. It only made s
ense; that was how she’d been raised. It shouldn’t have been a source of embarrassment for someone who was neither a warrior nor a mercenary.

  But Berta herself seemed to feel differently.

  She appeared to have an innate talent for the sniper rifle, but her absolute focus also allowed her to acclimate to Derrringer very quickly.

  At the moment of the shot, she would hold her breath. She would use only her finger to pull the trigger, bringing it straight backward. She was almost inordinately careful to employ these basics, which Yukinari had taught her, every time she fired.

  The rate at which she improved was, frankly, startling. But she had one fatal weak point as a sniper.

  “Ooh!” Through the binoculars, Yukinari spotted something moving at the edge of his vision. “Berta, do see that? Just to the right of the target. There’s a rabbit.”

  She turned the gun to the right slightly—such a subtle movement that an onlooker might not have seen it. “Wha? Oh, yes. There is.” She was probably confirming the creature’s presence for herself in the scope’s circular field of view.

  “How about rabbit for dinner? Take the shot, Berta.”

  “What?!” she yelped.

  She offered no further objection, though; after blinking at Yukinari two or three times, she put her finger back on Derrringer’s trigger. Yukinari could see that her entire body was stiff with tension, and he could see the tiny trembles of Derrringer’s barrel.

  Berta held her breath. But she didn’t shoot.

  Or perhaps more accurately, she couldn’t shoot. She couldn’t bring herself to pull the trigger before the rabbit disappeared into a nearby clump of grass.

  “Um, I— I’m sorry...” She let go of the gun and bowed her head so deeply it looked like she was about to offer an apologetic kowtow. “You gave me an order, Lord Yukinari, but I couldn’t... I’m so sorry...”

  “How many times do I have to tell you, don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault, and I’m not angry!”

  “Yuki...” Dasa was glaring at him over her glasses.

  “B-But Lord Yukinari...”

  “It’s all right. No kowtows! That’s an order.”

  “Er, y-yes, sir...” She nodded and sat up.

  This was her biggest problem. An obvious flaw in a sniper, or anyone who was planning to fight. Berta was simply too kindhearted.

  If sniping had been nothing more than a contest to see who could shoot a wooden target, she might have been nearly unbeatable. But Yukinari needed snipers who could be part of a battle. Snipers who could pull the trigger when their target was a living person.

  Could Berta do that? Could he make Berta do that? It was a failing as a warrior, but not as a human being. It could, in fact, be considered a virtue, true proof of her humanity. But to become a full-fledged sniper, she would have to get rid of it.

  That was why Yukinari hesitated. No matter how much talent she had, he didn’t know if it was right to make Berta use Derrringer.

  ●

  In the reception room of the Schillings mention. Yukinari, Dasa, Berta, and Veronika had returned from sniper practice. They, Fiona, and Arlen were discussing what to do next after the sudden visit of Angela Jindel.

  “A woman claiming to be a vice captain with a Civilizing Expedition from the True Church of Harris was here,” Fiona told them. “Veronika, I think she was looking for you.”

  Veronika’s brow furrowed slightly.

  “We were able to throw her off for the time being,” Fiona said, “but I’m not sure she completely believed us.”

  According to Arlen, Angela Jindel was the Vice Captain of the Ninth Missionary Brigade, stationed in Aldreil. In addition, there were two other missionary brigades posted in the city.

  “I think it’s about time you told me exactly what the connection is between you guys and this missionary,” Veronika said, glaring at Arlen. On reflection, Yukinari realized no one had ever filled Veronika in on the circumstances surrounding the missionaries in Friedland. He raised his hand.

  “Let me field this one. It’s kind of a long story, but basically... I destroyed this missionary unit’s ultimate weapon. They didn’t want to have to admit what had happened to Church headquarters, and we didn’t want word getting out that we’d defeated a unit of missionaries. It would only earn us a reprisal from the Church. So, publicly, this town was successfully converted by the missionaries.”

  “Ultimate weapon...? You mean one of those statues?” Astonishment crept into Veronika’s expression.

  “Er, yeah...”

  “And you defeated one? Alone? Those things can bury an erdgod!”

  “Yuki also defeated... this area’s... erdgod,” Dasa said quietly.

  “I’ve, uh, got a few tricks up my sleeve,” Yukinari said with a shrug. “I surprised them.”

  He had never actually used his powers of physical reconstitution in front of Veronika. Nor had she seen him transform into the black-armored body that allowed him to make fullest use of his abilities as an angel. There was no real reason to hide it from her now, but if he started trying to explain, the conversation would go on forever. Right now, they needed to decide how to deal with the threat from Aldreil.

  Veronika leaned forward and said, “I’m willing to forgo the specifics for the time being, but Yukinari, are you saying you can single-handedly take on the Missionary Order?”

  He was afraid he had a pretty good idea of what she had in mind. “Practically speaking, sort of. But even when I beat Arlen and his unit, it wasn’t easy. I had Dasa backing me up. I might be able to do it again if I were fighting a single unit. But two or more? It’d probably be hopeless.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do what you’re hoping.”

  No doubt she wanted him to help her comrades who were being held in Aldreil. If she went back there to face the missionary units alone, she would be lucky to escape with her life, let alone defeat them. Hence she was hoping for help from Yukinari.

  “But if you used this ‘Derrringer’ of yours to soften them up first...”

  “You know how much noise it makes.” He shrugged again. “If they had a group no larger than maybe ten people, you might be able to cut down their numbers by sniping at them while they were startled, but that’s the best you could hope for. If they shut themselves up in a building, it would be hard to shoot them. I might be able to build a device to dampen the sound somewhat, but that means the gun would be harder to aim, or maybe less powerful, or less accurate...”

  But above all, he doubted that Berta, their best sniper, would be willing and able to shoot a human being. There was an outside chance she would go along with it if they were only aiming at hands or feet, but of course, human extremities made tremendously small targets and were often in motion, making the shot that much more difficult.

  “You’re trying to get out of here and back to Aldreil, right?” Fiona asked. She seemed to have an idea.

  “Yes...”

  “Then let me make a suggestion: let Friedland hire you.”

  “...What?” Veronika asked dubiously.

  Fiona looked her square in the eye as she explained. “Stay here in this town. I’m not asking you to give up on rescuing your friends or forget about revenge. If anything, this could be the perfect opportunity for you.”

  Veronika shook her head. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “Frankly, I really doubt this Angela Jindel believes everything we told her about what’s going on in this town. I suspect that as soon as she gets back, the missionaries in Aldreil are going to find out that Friedland wasn’t really converted.”

  And that meant, most likely, that the knights in Aldreil would show up to convert the town at the point of a sword. It would be a matter of saving face for them. Chances were good that the effort would involve two or even three units of missionaries. In other words, two or three times as much power would be brought to bear on Friedland as when Yukinari had defeated Arlen’s unit. And there was no question tha
t it would be coming soon.

  “Assuming they don’t want to parley, and I doubt they will, we’re going to have to fight them.”

  “I see where you’re going.” Fiona didn’t have to spell out her entire idea before Veronika grasped the point. Whether for rescue or revenge, Veronika would have a better chance against the missionaries after they had engaged Friedland—after their numbers had been whittled down.

  “The perfect opportunity for me, huh?” Veronika said, irony in her smile. She seemed to have divined the real motivation for Fiona’s suggestion. Aside from Yukinari, powerful as he was, Friedland had very few people who could fight. Yukinari had passed out some Durandalls and taught people how to use them, but people who had been carrying nothing more complicated than spades and hoes yesterday were not going to turn into trained soldiers today just because someone gave them guns.

  The problem was less one of ability than of mental preparation. Excepting perhaps crimes of passion and other moments of intense agitation, it takes no small amount of personal resolve for one human to kill another. Those who devoted themselves to the martial arts called killing someone “the first step,” and a distinction was widely observed between the time before someone had taken this step and after. But that only showed how difficult that first kill was.

  The opposite side of this coin, however, was that the first kill was the hardest hurdle to cross. If there were someone who could take a group of new soldiers, put them into a frenzy, and get them past that choke point—then Friedland’s supply of soldiers might increase relatively quickly.

  And Veronika seemed like she might be ideal for that role. Having her on their side would mean more than just one more powerful warrior in their ranks. It might mean being able to produce many more warriors.

  “All right,” Veronika said, her expression softening for a moment. “Although I might point out that if I were to sneak into Aldreil while the missionaries were occupied with you guys, it would be easy enough to help my friends.”