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An Archdemon's Dilemma: How to Love Your Elf Bride: Volume 2

Page 3

by Fuminori Teshima


  It seemed this wasn’t the time for Zagan to be pleased with the fact that he hadn’t killed her. As if hiding his loss of composure, Zagan opened his mouth to speak.

  “Hmph... D-D-Do not panic, Nephy. If you are worried, then it is fine to give her aid. Well, let’s see, I believe there should be some cold medicine left around. Also, she’s not dead, correct? She’s alive, yes? For the time being, shall we carry her to a room with a bed?”

  “Please calm down, Master Zagan. Cold medicine cannot be used to treat the wounded.” Nephy spoke out as if admonishing Zagan, who had not managed to hide a single particle of his unrest. Then, she put her hand to the child’s brow before nodding.

  “It’s alright. It seems she’s only lost consciousness. She appears uninjured, as well.”

  “I-Is that really true? You’re telling the truth, right? She’s not dead, right?”

  “Yes.”

  After hearing that, Zagan let out a sigh of relief with a hand against his chest. Nephy looked up at him as he did that, as if his actions were unexpected.

  “Wh-What’s wrong?”

  “It’s nothing, Master Zagan... You’re as kind as I thought.”

  “Huh...?”

  As Zagan stared back at her in wonder, Nephy held Valefor in her arms. Though she was just a small girl, it seemed difficult for Nephy to lift her with her slender arms.

  And so, despite still being bewildered, Zagan gestured to let him carry the child instead.

  “Is this fine?”

  “Yes.”

  “Seriously, what a troublesome intruder.” Even while grumbling out a complaint, Zagan was terrified by the thought that he’d slugged a child in front of Nephy. However, as if to banish such fears, Nephy nestled up against his side.

  The little dragon’s intrusion marked the first change of many in the daily life they shared.

  Chapter II: A Dragon I Picked up Got Overly Attached to Me, so I Made Her My Daughter

  “Chastille Lillqvist — thine authority as an Archangel is hereby indefinitely suspended.”

  Upon hearing that from her direct superior, Cardinal Clavwell, Chastille hung her head down in silence. And her Sacred Sword was nowhere to be found. As it was an all important symbol of the church, it was now enshrined within the church’s treasury.

  The origin of this matter was what happened half a month ago. The seat of the thirteenth Archdemon that had opened up was given to a young sorcerer named Zagan. And naturally, the church wanted to strike down said Zagan while he was still inexperienced, and began gathering their forces.

  However, the one who opposed the idea was Chastille.

  “I’ve had my life saved by him twice. I cannot turn my back on him now.”

  Surely, there was a more clever way for her to prove her point. However, even with the enormous power of a demon right before his eyes, Zagan didn’t falter. Seeing him like that, Chastille felt ashamed of herself.

  That’s why I don’t want to fight against him, even if that means betraying my oaths.

  As a wielder of a Sacred Sword who served as the church’s greatest weapon, and not only that, as the only woman in the group, Chastille had heavy support from the populace, and yet she chose to do something that could’ve easily been considered heresy.

  They no longer had the time to worry about Zagan’s subjugation, as Cardinal Clavwell had to pass down her sentence instead. This was, in other words, proof that there was no point to their actions beyond ostentatiously displaying the authority of the church.

  By merely making sorcerers out as evil, they were able to justify themselves. That was why any old turncoat was viewed as a bigger problem than a mighty sorcerer.

  The corruption of the church... may just have gone as far as it can. As Chastille stifled a sigh, the Angelic Knights behind her raised their voices.

  “Please wait, Your Eminence Clavwell! That decision is far too excessive.”

  “I am in agreement! If you take Lady Chastille’s achievements into consideration, there should be some manner of leniency.”

  “Moreover, now that a new Archdemon has appeared, decreasing the number of Sacred Swords out on the field will only invite chaos!”

  “Cease that, all of you!” Chastille roughened her voice in response to the Angelic Knights’ backlash.

  Gazing at the ones who quieted down without hesitation, the old cardinal let out a grave sigh.

  “Does it appear to all of you that I feel no remorse?” Cardinal Clavwell, who seemed to have aged even more, muttered as if lamenting.

  “That’s...” Thus, the Angelic Knights had no choice but to keep quiet in response.

  All I wanted... was to protect the people who were crying out for help... That was why I became an Angelic Knight... After she was granted a Sacred Sword, she held pride in her work as she protected the innocent masses from the unreasonable oppression of sorcerers. And before she knew it, she got nothing but orders titled ‘must be eliminated’ from the church, and she was no longer even able to swing her sword by her own will.

  A single phrase from her, that a sorcerer wasn’t evil, had caused this massive uproar precisely because of how loyal she’d been so far.

  But, with this, I guess I at least managed to pay back my debt to Zagan. At the very least, the formation of the subjugation squad would be greatly delayed. There was no way that shrewd sorcerer wouldn’t take countermeasures against the church, and she should have at least been able to help them by buying some time.

  Suddenly, Chastille recalled the elven girl that was by Zagan’s side. Even though she was a sorcerer’s maid, she acted as if Chastille was a friend. And Chastille felt that they truly could have been friends, if only she wasn’t an Angelic Knight.

  Though it was far too late, such fanciful thought ran through her mind.

  Eventually, Cardinal Clavwell placed his hand upon Chastille’s shoulder.

  “Chastille, please do not make such a resigned face. With the passage of time, I believe I will be able to have thine punishment retracted.”

  Chastille suddenly stared at him in wonder as she heard those hope-filled words.

  “What... do you...?”

  Cardinal Clavwell was gazing at Chastille as if he was watching over a beloved daughter.

  “A Sacred Sword chooses its wielder by its own will. Someone chosen by a Sacred Sword shall not languish in squalor forever. Please endure it for now. These old bones shall definitely rectify the situation.”

  “...Your words are far more than I deserve,” Chastille quietly replied.

  The church is twisted, but there may still be hope of salvation.

  At the very least, wasn’t there one person who acknowledged her?

  The corners of her eyes turned hot, but Cardinal Clavwell’s expression remained stern.

  “However, do keep in mind, Chastille. I can only protect thee... atop the political stage.”

  “...Th-That is to say?”

  Cardinal Clavwell released a grave sigh, then told her what he meant in an almost fearful tone.

  “The most dreadful member of the Archangels, Raphael Hyurandell, is headed this way.”

  The mere mention of that name made Chastille gulp and shudder.

  He was a great man who continued to develop his legend well into his fifties. Even more than his skills with a sword, his cruel nature led to the two words ‘most dreadful’ being attached to him.

  Cardinal Clavwell quietly informed her of his imminent arrival.

  “Most criticism of Archangels never becomes a matter of public knowledge. However, I have heard many bad rumors about him.”

  The man who was feared to the point of being called ‘most dreadful’ was traveling toward the apostate Chastille.

  Purge... A single blood soaked word came to mind, but what Cardinal Clavwell had to say differed from that.

  “It is said that he is trying to create a new force within the church by gathering like-minded individuals.”

  Hearing those words mad
e Chastille open her eyes wide. She didn’t know how many had joined him so far, but it was the church which declared sorcerers as evil. Among the Angelic Knights and priests, there were likely many who sympathized with his ideas.

  The most dreadful Archangel would take hold of even more authority... And considering the timing of everything...

  It may become a beacon. The betrayal of the Maiden of the Sacred Sword could not got public. After all, if another Archangel cut her down, those rumors would become a severe earthquake and shake the world. The church would sway greatly.

  Still, I followed my heart for once. Her future may have darkened and closed off, but she felt no sense of regret.

  ◇

  “Where... Am I...?”

  The young girl, Valefor, muttered those words as she opened her eyes in a daze.

  This was a room in Zagan’s castle. Up until just recently, it had things like specimens of strange creatures and test tubes that were used in experiments to create them scattered about everywhere, but right now it contained only simple furniture and a bed. It seemed to function as a guest room.

  Zagan’s visitors were mostly assassins aiming for his knowledge and status or other such lowlifes, so he thought there was no purpose in preparing a guest room, but Nephy said ‘Does Lord Barbatos not come over?’ as she cleanly put it all in order.

  Zagan intended to never let that villain use the room that Nephy had prettied up, but even so, there was always the chance that others would drop by.

  I mean, Nephy’s friends could always show up. There was the clerk from the clothing shop in Kianoides whose name had just come up during lunch, as well as the Angelic Knight Chastille, for example. There was no way Zagan would just flatly turn them away if they showed up on his doorstep.

  Inside that guest room, Zagan and Nephy were lined up next to each other watching over Valefor’s condition.

  The little girl’s gaze wandered about the tidy room. She was clearly confused.

  And looking at that, Zagan felt relieved. Ah, thank goodness. She’s alive.

  Sure, Nephy had confirmed that she was alive, and Valefor was also breathing while she was asleep, but he was worried whether she would wake up.

  Zagan had tried to not rob his opponent of life. It was for Nephy’s sake, but there was also the problem of cleaning up any corpses that were in his domain. That was why he had mostly just lightly poked them before throwing them out, but having said that, he never really confirmed whether they survived.

  It wasn’t like he had lacked confidence in his control or anything!

  This young girl named Valefor was lying down in bed without her armor or robe. All she was wearing underneath the papier mache armor was an old shirt. She didn’t even have any trousers on.

  Since she was a child, she was likely just wearing the bear minimum she needed to inside the armor.

  Her green hair was tied up in thick braids, and two horns were sticking out to the rear from the openings in her hair. Her eyes, which were finally exposed, were golden, and her height was only around the level of Zagan’s waist at most.

  Judging from her appearance, other than the horns on her head, she was a human child.

  “...Y-You bastard!” She had likely finally come to her senses. Valefor’s golden eyes snapped open, and she sprang into the air to strike Zagan.

  “...Hmm? Well, if you’re this energetic, then you must be just fine, I guess.” And yet, Zagan stopped that fist with leisurely movements.

  Although one might call it a fist, it was soft, and even if he was struck by it, it would have, at most, had the charming destructive power of a bop.

  However, Zagan could sense power in that arm that would probably have reduced an average sorcerer into minced meat.

  Well, she is a sorcerer after all.

  Those who aimed to be sorcerers began by enhancing their own body. They would lengthen their lifespans, gain enough power to smash even a rock, and obtain a body that could prevent disease and the need for sleep. By doing so, one could eliminate all obstructions to their research.

  That was why regular people had no chance of defeating a sorcerer. Even if they could manipulate fire and lightning, their pure physical strength and speed were in another league. If Zagan didn’t catch her fist, the room would likely have been in terrible shape.

  However, it was a somehow difficult atmosphere. This girl, Valefor, was a sorcerer of the same caliber as Barbatos and Zagan before he succeeded Archdemon Marchosias. She was on a different level from the run-of-the-mill sorcerer or bandit. An enemy deserving of caution, basically.

  But she’s just a brat...

  She was short, and her cheeks looked to be both soft and squishy. A genuine and authentic child, it seemed.

  Zagan didn’t really know if he should try to overpower her or be kind to her.

  In any case, she was difficult to handle. Even as he stopped her fist, Valefor raised a menacing voice with a ‘Grrrr’ and left Zagan scratching at his cheek.

  “Hmph. Show some gratitude to Nephy. I show no mercy, even if my opponent is a brat, so if Nephy didn’t plead for your life, your head would be severed and I’d have thrown you out by now.”

  From those words alone, Valefor finally seemed to understand that she was ‘allowed to live.’ And that if Zagan felt like it, even at that very instant, he could finish her off.

  I can’t do something so cruel in front of Nephy, though!

  And finally, the fist that she had thrust out began losing its strength.

  “...Why?” It was a childish lisping voice that matched her appearance. The muffled voice she had before was likely some power from the mask, something that was fabricated.

  And in response to Valefor’s question, Zagan tilted his head to the side.

  “Why... what?”

  “I came here... looking to take your damn life. Why have you not... killed me for opposing you?”

  Zagan then knit his brows like he had absolutely no interest in that at all.

  “I told you already, didn’t I? Nephy saved you. That’s why I let you live. That’s all, really.”

  It was plain as day that the child dying by Zagan’s hands would wrench Nephy’s heart, even if he was just defending himself. It was truly good that the child realized that before he had to kill her.

  Still, I can’t sense any hostility or hatred... Since she was the vanquished, it seemed normal for feelings of resentment and humiliation to grow.

  It may have been that she simply lost her will to fight, but no one would think that she was a sorcerer who was aiming for Zagan’s life mere minutes ago.

  On the contrary, Valefor was making a more bewildered face than Zagan himself.

  And while the two of them stood there, confused by one another, Zagan threw out his doubts toward her.

  “So, what were you planning by attacking me?”

  “...”

  She declared that she would take the power of an Archdemon, but most sorcerers weren’t all that insistent on power. No, it may have been better to say that an average sorcerer’s definition of power was different.

  What sorcerers sought was the accumulation of knowledge and techniques. Most didn’t show an interest in the power to combat others.

  That was because just by acquiring knowledge, sorcerers acquired power. Power was something that came on its own through the process of gaining knowledge. The power to fight was a viable means to make others obey, but it wasn’t very helpful for the pursuit of knowledge.

  Acquiring knowledge had the same meaning as acquiring power, but the opposite didn’t hold true.

  And yet, what Valefor coveted was the ‘power to fight.’

  The power of an Archdemon was a vast amount of mana granted by the Sigil of the Archdemon, not knowledge. There were also those like Barbatos who were aiming for the status and assets of an Archdemon, but it was baffling for a sorcerer to covet the power.

  And, as Zagan glared at her, Valefor’s body stiffened up as if she was fri
ghtened.

  Looking at her like this, she really is just a child, huh?

  No matter how he looked at her, she didn’t look like a sorcerer who could even fire off a dragon’s breath.

  And while Nephy was giving her a once-over, Valefor opened her mouth as if letting out a groan.

  “I wanted... power.”

  “I see. I don’t think that’s something most sorcerers would really desire, though?”

  Sorcerers grew strong simply so they could protect themselves. With their elongated lifespans, they required the power to protect their own body and assets.

  It was neither a means nor an end. It was not something that one would covet to the point of risking their life.

  Well, obviously there are exceptions in the world, though.

  As Zagan pointed that out, Valefor muttered something, as if she was biting down on her disgrace.

  “Because... I’m weak. That’s why... I need... power.”

  “I see. So you need power so that you can live, then?”

  It seemed to contradict the general notion of sorcerers, but Zagan was convinced by that answer. In the first place, Zagan was set on polishing his own power in order to attain immortality.

  In other words, a so called ‘exception who focused on power more than knowledge’ referred to Zagan himself.

  That is to say, there wasn’t really a need for her enemy to be Zagan or Nephy, so that was likely the reason why she didn’t bear any hostility or hatred.

  “Then, why did you target me of all people? I am an Archdemon, didn’t you think you were ill-prepared to challenge me?”

  “Zagan, you’re a brand new Archdemon. And if the second name ‘Sorcerer Slayer’ held true, then you should have been weak against someone who wasn’t a sorcerer.”

  “That was why you thought that even you could defeat me?”

  As Zagan replied in an overbearing manner, Valefor nodded. Then, her hands were trembling lightly.

  Somehow, it feels like I’m bullying the weak or something here.

  It didn’t really feel good at all. Zagan was the one whose life was being targeted, but he felt like he was the one doing something bad. He didn’t really know how to describe such a situation. In any case, it threw him off beat.

 

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