And more than anything else:
“My father knew all of it.”
The memories granted to Chiho. Of her father, and of a second holy sword.
When the Church arrived to take Emi away before her village was destroyed, Nord told her that her mother was still alive, somewhere. And even without that evidence, there was simply no way into this realm she was in now without a Yesod fragment. That alone proved Nord knew everything about Laila his whole life.
He must’ve applied for those permits simply as a pretense, so he’d have a provable motive for bringing the farming tools and construction equipment he needed into the mountain. Whether he actually intended to use this field and shed or not, the village and its governing baron didn’t care. If he paid his taxes, all was well. They wouldn’t bother sending an inspector to survey such a tiny strip of land yearly, either. Even if they did, all a normal person would find was uncleared forestland with a dead tree in it. They’d assume Nord failed to cultivate it, and that would be that.
“That…and now I know something else, too.”
Emi reflected back on the single path she traced on her way to the dead tree.
“My mother was the one who really ‘made’ this place.”
Her father was no master-level sorcerer—that much she was sure of. Even if he was, not even Emeralda could likely build a space locked away to everyone except Yesod fragment holders. So:
“I need to comb this place. There’s got to be some secret behind my parents to find here.”
She had discovered no answer, no shining path out of the complex maze of truths she was lost in. But she couldn’t lie down and say uncle now. She had an enormous hint dangling in front of her.
“‘Nobody I know,’ huh…?”
Emi realized that, as she traversed that maze of thoughts, the shaking in her body had stopped.
“I haven’t discovered anything yet… Not the truth, at least.”
She didn’t need to wallow in despair yet. Not until she found her answer.
“Well, better start by ransacking this shed, I guess!” she shouted, drumming herself forward in an attempt to brighten her mood. “Let’s go, Alas… Um, Alas Ramus?”
She was out of sight again.
“Alas Ramus! Where are you?”
No answer.
“Oh no!”
This was steppe land poised on top of a steep mountainside. There were no fences keeping people from toppling over the far edge. Emi’s face turned pale. Did she fall off while she wasn’t paying attention? There was no concern about her wandering far away, and Alas Ramus could fly whenever she wanted to anyway, but could she exercise those powers when she needed to? That was hard to say. But if she hurt herself off the steppe…
Emi stepped behind the shed to kick off her search. It didn’t take long.
“Oh, is that where you were?”
She spotted the girl from behind as she stood in place. It made her breathe a sigh of relief.
“Come on, Alas Ramus. Time to go back inside.”
No response.
“Alas Ramus? What is it?”
Still no response. Emi walked up to her, only to discover what Alas Ramus was staring at.
“Did they plant something here?”
The passage of time had led to all manner of weeds covering it, but on the ground before Alas Ramus was a visible depression, as though someone had buried something large down below.
“…Aceth.”
“Hmm? What is it?”
“…Aceth…Aceth!”
“Huh?”
“Mommy…where’s Aceth?”
“Um, Aceth?”
“Aceth! Where’s Aceth?” she shouted, staring right at the depression. “Mommy, Aceth! Here! Aceth was here! But she’s gone! Why?!”
“H-hey, calm down a second, Alas Ramus! Who’s Aceth…?”
Emi couldn’t hide her concern for the child’s sudden transformation. But she could tell something important was about to happen. Whenever Alas Ramus grew this talkative, whenever she started using this unfamiliar terminology, whenever she exhibited these sudden mood swings…
It always had to do with the Sephirah.
She tried her best to divine the proper name Alas Ramus was having trouble pronouncing correctly.
“Alas Ramus? When you say ‘Aceth’… do you mean Acieth Alla?”
The term had appeared from her father’s memories in the field, the ones replayed from Laila to Chiho and from Chiho to her. Nord said it himself. Acieth Alla. The “Bladed Wing,” in the Centurient language. Emi had assumed it was the name of the “other holy sword” she had heard about.
But now Alas Ramus had just used it. Called it a “she.” Said she was “here.”
And Emi had already seen someone, or something, of the same nature as Alas Ramus before. It was Erone, a child born from the Sephirah known as Gevurah. So what was Acieth Alla, this presence with the same “wing” reference in her name as Alas Ramus?
“What’s the name of the child born from the Yesod Sephirah?”
“Aceth! I came from it! Aceth! Where’s Aceth?!”
Alas Ramus all but cried out for someone, or something, that wasn’t there.
If Maou could be believed here, Alas Ramus would have been born from a Yesod fragment buried in soil. Emi could easily imagine the fragment that formed Acieth Alla being buried under this depression. And considering how much time had passed since anyone had been here:
“Alas Ramus… I’m sorry, but I don’t think she’s here anymore—”
“No! Mommy, find Aceth! I smell Aceth! She’s here!”
“Please, Alas Ramus, calm down. I’m sure Acieth went off somewhere, just like Erone did.”
Alas Ramus wasn’t having any of it. She had demonstrated her own will before, deactivating the Better Half by herself against Emi’s will during the encounter with Erone. But now, as she sought Acieth Alla’s presence, she seemed even more severe with Emi.
“Mommy, please, Aceth…”
“Alas Ramus…”
She was no normal toddler, to be sure, but never before had Alas Ramus been so stubborn with Emi. She couldn’t figure out what to do with her, so she reached out for her, attempting to pick her up and give her a reassuring hug.
“Mommy!”
For reasons only she knew, Alas Ramus used her tiny hands to grasp both of Emi’s outstretched arms.
“Let’s look together!”
“Huh? Together… Huh?! Wh-whoa, Alas…!”
Emi was in no position to stop her. Alas Ramus’s forehead gradually glowed brighter and brighter, creating a purple moon in the air.
“Aceeeetttthhh!!”
With that scream, Emi’s vision was bathed in purple and white.
“Wh-why did this have to happen?!” Emi shouted as she tore down the mountain. She had to get out of there, as soon as possible. Her mind couldn’t decide whether to abandon her belongings or not, but her body was frantically taking her downhill, her head warily watching the skies above.
Alas Ramus couldn’t have been more reckless. Amid her screaming for Acieth Alla, she had manifested Emi’s Better Half sword—at its final, most powerful level, now that Emi was back in Ente Isla. Holy magic, at a level she had never felt before, flowed out of it, and the circle of Yesod light that shot up from the spot could’ve easily been spotted from several dozen miles away.
Now was no time to worry about her knapsack. Or, really, about her regrouping with Emeralda. The Better Half, and Alas Ramus’s outburst, emitted a shocking amount of energy—and Emi didn’t like her chances that it would go undetected by anyone. So she ran. Without having a chance to explore either the shed or the flat space that surrounded it.
Everybody currently opposing her in the struggle over Yesod fragments now knew who she really was, and where she came from. There would be no going back to Sloane for her.
“…Not here. Aceth not here. Why…?”
Alas Ramus was bawling inside Emi’s mind. Suc
h a burst of holy energy, even in a land as vast as Ente Isla, would have picked up on other Yesod fragments—apparently she couldn’t find any reaction from Acieth Alla’s.
“Mommy, I’m sorry… I’m sorry.”
Then the child must’ve grasped what she had just done. She apologized to Emi again and again, voice still strained from the tears.
“It’s fine, all right? I’m not angry with you! It’s not your fault, Alas Ramus!”
Emi blindly leaped from the smaller cliffs, letting the branches of passing trees slap her in the face and body, all but snapping them in half as she ran downward.
“Acieth Alla’s just as important to you as Erone and Malchut, isn’t she?”
“…Yeh.”
“You’ve been aching to see her for ages, haven’t you?! You’ve been alone all that time! Ever since you got separated from the tree of Sephirot!”
“…Yeh.”
“…I’m with you, okay? Mommy’s with you!”
“Mommy…too?”
“Yes! …Ugh, screw this!”
Emi had had enough of her knapsack. It slowed her down too much. She tossed it, and everything inside, to the ground. Not having to carry around Alas Ramus’s baby stuff, as well as the best camping gear and food modern Japan could offer, gave her an extra burst of speed as she continued downward. The only real “equipment” she had left was the smartphone in her pants pocket, meant for Idea Link communication with Suzuno and Chiho in Japan.
“I was alone all that time, too… I spent all that time searching. Because even if she’s my enemy…even if I hate her enough to kill her…I still want to see her!!”
It was as though Emi’s screaming was what allowed her to zoom down the mountain at superhuman speed. The trail began to widen for her, the slope growing easier to handle. Before long, they were back at the hunter’s inn. There, making sure no one was near, she deployed Heavenly Fleet Feet and started to run. The skies, the land, it didn’t matter. Any destination was fine, as long as it wasn’t related to her past.
No more meeting up with Emeralda. No more keeping her promise to Chiho. No more returning to Japan, even. But Emi still couldn’t chide Alas Ramus for what she had done. She didn’t want to. Because there was someone she wanted to see. Someone she didn’t have to hide her true nature from. Someone who knew the real her.
Outside of her involvement with the Tree of Sephirot, Alas Ramus acted like any other toddler would. There was no way to yell at her about it. Not when Emi considered how long she had been all alone in that Yesod fragment core—since back when Devil King Satan was barely a newborn.
Right now, she had to get away before the “enemy” found her. She could beat any enemy she ran into—but if Ente Isla was the battlefield, her foes would likely be much stronger than they were in Japan, just like how it worked with her. Depending on who showed up, she might not be able to go easy on them—and that would neatly broadcast to all of Ente Isla that the Hero Emilia was here. It would intensify the struggle over Emi and her Better Half, making it even more of a violent confrontation than before.
Emeralda and Albert would have to become involved. And the Church wouldn’t be an idle spectator, either. Once their leaders knew Emilia was back, the fallout might prove to threaten Suzuno back on Earth. And if she was in danger, then Chiho, Rika, and everyone else in Japan were dramatically more so.
If she ran into the enemy right now, that was it. There would no longer be any safe space for Emi and Alas Ramus, either in Japan or in Ente Isla. There would be no discovering the truth, or attending birthday parties, after that.
For now, she had to hide. So she ran. Even if the “enemy” found her, she couldn’t let the public discover her.
Then she stopped.
“What…?!”
It was just as she tried to cross the central plaza in front of the inn…
“Mommy…?”
Emi had no words for the nervous question.
The air was shimmering across the entirety of the inn’s length, like a hole in the air or a crack in the ground. The very space was crumbling before her, like a dilapidated cityscape.
“A Gate…”
Emi gritted her teeth. She was out of time. The enemy had the slip on her. She had never expected they’d use a Gate and this massive array of fighters to pursue a simple Yesod fragment.
The first to emerge from the giant crack in the air was a group clad in the armor of Efzahan’s knight corps from the Eastern Island. They all wore armbands of light green inside a white frame, identifying them as Knights of the Inlain Jade Scarves. They surrounded her from all sides like she was an escaped animal, keeping their distance as they pointed spears at her.
“Ngh…”
Emi raised her hands up, attempting to summon her Better Half even as Alas Ramus was still sobbing inside. She was stopped by a voice among the Jade legion:
“It’d be better for your health if you stopped, Emilia.”
She stopped breathing.
“Yes, you could easy annihilate both myself and all the soldiers you see before you. But…”
“But somethin’ tells me you’d regret it afterward, huh?”
Two men, looking markedly different from each other, stepped out from the squadron. One was an old man sporting a tonsure and a stiff, rigid robe. The other was a younger man wearing a leather jacket with English lettering and a hairstyle that could only be described as an Afro.
“Olba…” Emi begrudgingly groaned. “Raguel…!”
“Ahh, quit acting so scared, lady!” Raguel shrugged. “We can’t really just stroll on over here unprepared after that light show you just busted out, y’know? Of course we’re gonna open a Gate.”
“Indeed. We wouldn’t want to be…beaten to the punch.”
Olba flashed an inscrutable smile—just as he had when he traveled alongside Emi; just as he had when he stood before her at Sasazuka as her enemy.
She glared at the tonsured head and the Afro.
“…So what’s a traitorous archbishop and the angel of judgment doing here with all these Efzahan lackeys? That team-up makes absolutely no sense to me.”
“What do you think, lady?” the wholly unaffected Raguel fired back, answering the question with another, more disparaging one.
“Well,” Emi began, sizing up her foes, “if the Church and the heavens want me to join the struggle to free Efzahan from Barbariccia’s control, I might be willing to listen to you.”
Olba and Raguel paused, flashing surprised glances at each other.
“I would say,” Olba intoned, “you’re closer than you think.”
“What do you mean?”
“Yeah,” Raguel said, interrupting the current staredown, “well, we’re not exactly here to strip your Yesod fragments from you, like I was in Japan. Assuming you’re willing to cooperate, that is. The situation’s changed a little bit, so… Emilia Justina, we need you to join us in Efzahan.”
“No, thanks,” Emi instantly replied.
Olba and Raguel, expecting this, didn’t move an inch.
“Why not, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Ask your own heart. Try to recall what you guys did to Japan. You’re willing to do all kinds of evil deeds for the sake of your mission, hurting untold numbers of people along the way. How could you guys ever dare to claim you’re legitimate?”
“Mm,” rumbled Olba. “I see. Stands to reason, I suppose.”
“Yeah, can’t really make excuses about that. But you’re still gonna have to come with us, all right? We can’t really take no for an answer.”
“Say whatever you will. I’m already booked for the month. If you wanna keep having these stupid playground squabbles, go invite the Devil King to join you if you want.”
Then Emi unleashed her Better Half, a physical personification of her iron will.
“You’re right, Olba. If I truly wanted to, I could wipe all of you off the planet. I have no reason to hesitate doing that. Get out of my way. If you d
o…”
Emi was a hairsbreadth away from readying her sword for battle. She never made it.
“What’s that…?”
Suddenly, the air around them began to vibrate. It was as though somebody had set off an explosion, far away—but they couldn’t see any such destruction in the visible area.
But Emi could feel it. It was far to the west, in the direction of her hometown of Sloane.
“Dark… Is that demonic energy?!”
It was nothing angelic, or human, in nature. Only a denizen of the demon realms could wield it. And the shock waves from the explosion made it all the way from Sloane’s direction.
Raguel, realizing that Emi had sensed it, flashed a distressingly sinister smile—one no angel should ever show.
“You ever heard of Draghi…um, something? I can never remember the whole thing. You know…from the Malebranche?”
He made a great show out of turning his gaze toward Sloane.
“I told him that the Great Demon General Malacoda met his end around this area. He insisted on joining me. Kept going on about revenge, you know?”
“…No…”
The color drained from Emi’s face.
“I told him not to get violent here. This is the Western Island, and I can’t have him getting killed by the Saint Aile knight corps. They don’t know anything about this, besides. But…you know, if you aren’t willing to listen to us…I can’t be so sure he’ll listen to me, huh?”
It was such a childish threat to lob at the Hero Emilia and all her boundless strength. Naturally, Olba saw fit to expand upon it:
“The Malebranche are demons,” he said. “They cannot hope to harness much dark force here on the Western Island, now that it has started to rebuild. But he certainly has enough strength to render a certain abandoned, forgotten village nonexistent.”
It was doubtful Emi would ever forget the devil Olba exposed from his heart then, as he addressed her, even if it was hidden behind his expressionless face.
“Emilia. If I recall, your one dream in life was to restore your father’s fields, was it not?”
The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 9 Page 10
