The Seven Deadly Sins

by Shuka Matsuda

  “Now, now. Calm down,” said the proprietress, stepping between Howzer and the man with a chuckle. “This cat has certainly caused us quite a bit of trouble, but after all these years I’ve gotten strangely attached to him. This tavern is called the Black Cat’s Yawn, after all—and he’s pretty cute if you actually look at him…”

  “I-I agree, ma’am,” Grace added from behind. “Um, by the way, I could take him, if you want. He might be able to help with a rat problem back at my house.” She tried to scoop the cat into her arms.

  But the cat, even dangling in the air as it was, let out a menacing hiss and lashed out at her with both front paws.

  “Hey, cool it!” Howzer said to the cat, hastily trying to pull it away from Grace. But Grace just stretched her arms out further.

  “Ack!”

  While they were going back and forth, Howzer’s grip loosened for a moment. The cat saw its chance and twisted right out of his grasp, landing upright on the floor. It shot like an arrow through the tavern and disappeared into the street.

  “I-I’m sorry!” Grace said, instinctively apologizing to Howzer, the proprietress, and everyone else in the tavern.

  But the drunken patron from before flared up at her.

  “What’d you do that for, little missy? Huh?!”

  “It’s not her fault,” Howzer cut in. “I’m to blame for not holding him tighter. If you’re going to complain, do it to me.” He glared scathingly, and the man backed down, hunching and lowering his eyes.

  “Wh-Whatever. It’s just one stinking cat…” he mumbled as he hurried out of the establishment.

  After a moment, the tension in the tavern dissipated with a collective sigh, and the lively atmosphere returned.

  “Maybe this time that cat’ll learn to stop messing with everyone’s food…”

  “Oh, but he’s getting old now. He used to be downright uncatchable!”

  The regular customers laughed, as did the proprietress.

  “That reminds me,” she said. “Do you guys remember that Holy Knight a few years back who kept getting done over by that cat?”

  “Yeah, yeah! That cat really got him good!”

  Another burst of laughter. Howzer and Grace exchanged a look.

  “A Holy Knight? Done over by a cat?”

  “Yep. He was a heavy fellow, and he was always getting his food stolen by that cat.”

  “He’d chase it around, but the cat would just mess with him, and he’d usually end up scratched.”

  “Was he really a Holy Knight?” Howzer was shocked. But the proprietress and the men just guffawed.

  “That’s what we asked ourselves, too, in the beginning.”

  “Mm-hm. But that one time was really something…”

  “That one time?” Grace asked.

  The group of regulars launched into the anecdote together.

  “A bad sort of drunk came in one day, right? And after getting into a quarrel with a girl who was working here at the time, he tried to drag her outside with him.”

  “He was huge, and what’s more, he was brandishing a knife, so there was nothing anyone could do to help.”

  “But then, that fellow who was always getting done over by the cat…”

  The regulars described how all of a sudden, the knight leapt nimbly through the air and, with an enormous spear—“I don’t know where he pulled it from”—pinned the man to the floor.

  “A spear…” gasped Howzer.

  If no one had known where it was hidden, that meant it had been a magical weapon. And if that man had been able to master it, and to fly through the air, he really had been a Holy Knight.

  “It was an amazing spear. He said it was what let him unleash his full magical power.”

  “I guess he meant he wasn’t going to use that kind of magic on some cat.”

  “Even if that’s true, though, he was such a klutz without it.”

  “Wahahaha!” the men all laughed.

  “I haven’t seen him around lately. I wonder if he went away on some distant assignment.”

  “Wasn’t there a rumor that he was one of the Seven Deadly Sins?”

  “He looked a lot like one of the guys on the wanted posters, but his face wasn’t so wicked. He was always smiling.”

  “Yeah. And if he’d been one of the Seven Deadly Sins, he would’ve been able to best that cat, even barehanded, don’t you think?”

  That drew another burst of laughter from everyone. But Howzer wasn’t listening anymore.

  “A spear…”

  “Howzer, what’s wrong? Your chicken is cold—want me to make you another?”

  “Howzer?”

  Howzer shook his head absently at the women. He pulled a silver coin from his breast pocket, handed it to the proprietress, and rushed out of the tavern.

  5

  “Mom! The storeroom key!”

  Just like the day before, Howzer burst shouting into the shop. He snatched the keys right out of his mother’s hands and made a beeline for the storeroom.

  Bursting in, he ran to the wall and grabbed one of the spears that he’d knocked over last time.

  “…”

  Again, he felt like the spear was being sucked against his hand.

  He carried it outside.

  There was a wide clearing behind the workshop, past the left side of the building. It was standard practice to not build other houses near a blacksmith’s, so that in the unlikely event of an accident, neighbors wouldn’t be affected.

  Boxes full of raw ore and firewood and coal were piled along one edge of the lot. Howzer held his spear ready and fixed his aim on one of the wooden crates.

  “…”

  Gripping the shaft in his right hand, he could clearly feel the magic spiraling through the spear. It pulled in the surrounding air, which in an instant surged out from the tip and formed into a small whirlwind.

  “…”

  It felt as if the weapon and his arm had become one. He could see the path that led from the spear straight to the center of his magic.

  “Is this the one?”

  He raised it over his head at an angle. The small but fearsomely agile whirlwind followed the exact trajectory that Howzer imagined, blowing up small stones in its path, and the crate he was aiming for was smashed to bits in an instant.

  “…”

  Howzer just stood there for a moment, watching the chunks of ore scatter.

  “Is that your answer?”

  It was his father’s voice.

  Howzer turned to find Raizer standing behind him, work clothes covered in sweat. Howzer panicked for a moment, trying to explain himself.

  “Sorry for messing up your materials! But—”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  His father slowly walked over to Howzer and touched the spear he was holding. Howzer handed it to Raizer, who inspected the tip with narrowed eyes.

  “It’s cracked.”

  “Huh?” Howzer looked too to find that there was indeed a small notch on the blade’s edge.

  “Weapons are made to suit the individuals who use them. That’s especially true for Holy Knights. I’m just a layman’s blacksmith, so I can’t make the special weapons that high-ranking Holy Knights wield. That’s the magicians’ domain.”

  “Pops…”

  “And your magic is at that level now.”

  “Can’t I fight with a sword that you made?” Howzer said, but then startled at his own words.

  Somewhere along the way, he had convinced himself that fighting with his father’s sword would earn his approval.

  His whole life, Howzer had been nothing but defiant, running off to do his own thing with no intention of taking over the shop, and he’d thought his father hadn’t forgiven him. Howzer must have unconsciously thought that using his father’s sword would redeem his irresponsible childhood and that his father wouldn’t approve of his choices otherwise.

  But his father broke into a satisfied smile behind his beard. “You’ve become a
fine young man, Howzer. Surely Captain Dreyfus or His Majesty the King will find a spear for you.”

  “Pops…” Howzer stared dumbly at his father for a moment, then suddenly reached to remove the sword at his hip. “Y-You can have this back.”

  “No, you keep it. Maybe you’ll never use it in battle, but a knight should always have a sword at his waist.”

  Raizer turned his back and returned to his workshop without a second glance.

  Howzer watched his father’s receding figure. After a moment, he placed his hand on the sword at his hip and let his face, which looked just like his father’s, fall into an embarrassed smile.

  Chapter Three

  A Recipe She Could Not Crack

  —from Merlin

  A peculiar smell hung about the room.

  The built-in shelves and table in the center were filled to bursting with mysterious objects.

  Old books. Bones of unfamiliar creatures. Bottles of sinister-hued liquid. Pots that rattled from time to time. Stones that gave off a faint glow.

  In addition, blades and spearheads and other weapons. Pieces of armor. There were shoes and gloves as well.

  Bundles of withered plants hung from the ceiling. Dried snakes and lizards and the limbs of other beasts poked out through the leaves.

  Most likely, these things were also exuding considerable odors of their own, but the smell that filled the room at the moment came from the steam wafting out of the large, simmering cauldron mounted next to the wall.

  It smelled a bit like food, a bit like medicine, or a bit like something slightly rotten. It changed on every inhalation, and “peculiar” was the only way to describe it.

  A beautiful woman stood before the cauldron. Dark gray hair hung about her shoulders, and she had bright amber eyes. She tossed another big apple into the pot.

  A cloud of steam spewed out of the cauldron, and for a moment, a tart, sweet smell drifted through the air. But it soon mixed in with the original odor.

  “An apple, a peach—and then a double-headed fish, ten pounds of pork, the blood of a clay dragon…” she muttered to herself, writing something down on the sheaf of papers beside her. After a moment, she put down her feather pen and held both hands out above the cauldron.

  “…”

  As an incantation spilled from her red lips, too quiet for an ordinary person to hear, the liquid in the cauldron busily changed color and bubbled up—blub blub blub. Something appeared to be forming inside.

  The woman inspected it and then held her right hand, fingers together, just above the surface of the liquid.

  A brown lump about the size of a walnut rose up from the cauldron with a faint splash. Without hesitation, the woman took a small pot from the shelf to her left and scooped up the lump from where it floated in mid-air.

  “Hmm…I suppose this should do for now. I’ll have to make a few more and test them.”

  The woman breathed a sigh of relief as she covered the pot.

  Then she looked back over her shoulder.

  “Don’t just stand there peeping—if you’re going to come in, come in, Vivian.”

  The door to the room clunked and then, after a moment, slowly opened.

  A young woman with an awkward expression on her face appeared in the doorway. “Please excuse me. I brought that thing you asked me for.”

  “I appreciate it. Put it over there.”

  The woman called Vivian put the basket she was holding down on the table.

  The other, beautiful woman inspected it, then turned back to the cauldron.

  Vivian glared at her back with jealousy and envy in her eyes, but the woman did not turn around again.

  1

  A lone female figure walked down the pitch-black passage, holding aloft a small lantern.

  The narrow passage was barely wide enough to fit two people walking side by side.

  Judging by the bare rock walls and floor, it was a cave of sorts that had been dug into the ground.

  The woman’s face was hidden behind an oddly shaped mask, and she held a long staff in her left hand. A giant ornament shaped like a human left hand was affixed to the tip. No, but the nails were sharpened to a point, so perhaps it was the hand not of a human, but of a monster.

  As the woman walked, the passage gradually widened, until it suddenly opened out into a spacious cavern.

  The frail light that she held was not strong enough to illuminate the recesses. The far edge and ceiling stayed lurking in darkness.

  But she could clearly sense the presence of something alive in the room.

  And not just one. Many, many creatures.

  The smell of animals and dung filled the air. Grimacing under her mask, the woman slowly lifted her lantern and surveyed the cavern.

  Many cages stood against the wall.

  There were large ones, small ones, and even some that could be cradled like birdcages.

  Creatures were imprisoned in them according to their respective sizes.

  An enormous eagle. A gray bear. A lion that must have been brought in from the southern continent.

  There were chickens and pigs as well. Sand lizards. Scorpions. Poisonous spiders.

  “You’re late, Vivian.”

  A lantern lit with a whoosh on the far side of the cavern, revealing a tall man. His bluish-gray hair was cut short and he sported a goatee, but he wasn’t that old. He looked to be around thirty or so.

  “Were you with Gilthunder again?”

  “That’s none of your concern, Hendrickson,” Vivian retorted hotly.

  Hendrickson barked a short laugh. True, it seemed to say. “Anyway, how is that thing doing?”

  “Well…it seems calm, for now.”

  Hendrickson held the lantern in his left hand out toward the back of the cavern. Vivian aimed her own lamp in the same direction.

  The two lights shone on an especially sturdy-looking cage.

  A large beast crouched inside.

  Its back was covered in glittering green scales, and a line of horns sprouted along its spine and down to its thick tail. Wings, made of membrane stretched across talons, sprouted from both sides of its back.

  The ten-foot-long creature appeared to be an infant dragon.

  However, from its belly up, the scales were replaced with a gray bristle that covered the front half of the creature. Its forelegs were the paws of a beast, not the claws of a dragon.

  Its slobbering head turned atop its thick, maned neck. From its enormous, sword-like fangs, it was clear that the monstrosity was part sword wolf.

  Its long tail jutted out from a gap between the bars and swayed back and forth sullenly.

  “Here is where the problem starts.” Hendrickson gripped a small needle in his right hand. “Subdue the creature,” he said, approaching the monster’s tail.

  Vivian put her lantern down at her feet and placed both hands on her staff, then turned back to the monster.

  She started muttering a spell under her breath, which caused the creature to freeze in place.

  Slowly, but purposefully, Hendrickson stuck the needle between the scales on the thick tail before using his thumb to crush the sphere attached to the end of the needle.

  The monster’s tail twitched.

  Hendrickson stepped back swiftly, returning to Vivian’s side.

  “Well?”

  “It’s no good,” Vivian said, lowering her staff. As soon as she did, the monster let out a piercing shriek. The roar rumbled and echoed around the cavern, and the animals in the surrounding cages started to panic and rage.

  Thrashing its head and limbs about, the monster destroyed its cage in an instant. Its body started to expand rapidly—like water filling a leather bag, or a giant swamp frog’s bulbous throat.

  “Get rid of it,” Hendrickson said coldly.

  Vivian nodded. “Perfect Cube,” she chanted, and a cube of light formed around the monster. The raging monster grew bigger and bigger inside the cube until finally, with a dull pop, it turned into a squ
are mass of flesh.

  Vivian silently waved her staff. The lump of flesh and the cube of light both vanished somewhere.

  “Hmm…It just won’t seem to work,” Hendrickson muttered.

  Vivian shrugged. “I wonder if it’s a problem with the amount of Demon’s Blood?”

  “Or maybe it’s because your fusion magic is underdeveloped.”

  “Oh!” Vivian said discontentedly. She removed the mask that had been covering her face, revealing the features of a simple young woman. Her curly, light brown hair was plastered against her forehead with sweat. “My chimera was perfect. Do me a favor, don’t point fingers. Aren’t you being too greedy? You seem to have bought up another batch of animals from the circus.”

  “Greedy or not, there’s no use discussing it now. We must create something that, if not in all aspects, at least in combat power, is stronger than any of the Seven Deadly Sins.”

  “You make it sound easy, but certain combinations of animals are more compatible than others.” Vivian raised her eyebrows. “If you match animals helter-skelter just because they’re formidable in battle, their power will conflict and the creature will become unbalanced.”

  “Hmm…would your mentor say so, too?” Hendrickson laughed disparagingly.

  “Wh-What?” Vivian gasped.

  Hendrickson laughed down his nose at her again, then left the cave without another word.

  2

  “Nkk…Just you watch!!”

  Vivian clenched her teeth in front of a huge pile of books and papers.

  She stood in a room in Hendrickson’s magical research hall. The hall was built on an enormous, oddly shaped rock that towered just northwest of the center of the royal capital of Liones. It had originally belonged to a member of the Seven Deadly Sins: Merlin, the Boar’s Sin of Gluttony, who was hailed as the most powerful witch in Britannia.

  “Definitely somewhere around here…”

  As Vivian rummaged across the desktop, a whole mountain of books collapsed in a flutter. A startled meow came from near her feet.

  “Oh, did I surprise you? Sorry.” Vivian searched for the source of the sound.

  A large black cat crouched under the desk, looking up at her. There was fear in its eyes.