Editor 43
by CristaeBy some stroke of luck, Cleio Aser saved the capital.
He had tied the entrance of his subspace pouch too tightly, so he still could not retrieve the luminous stones.
The beast, having missed its target, landed on the ground, then turned its body and targeted Cleio again with a growl.
Clutching the pouch he was opening, Cleio dripped cold sweat.
‘What do I do? Uwaaaahh.’
The moment the wolf lowered its body to pounce, his mind went blank.
Only one magic formula came to his mind: [Disintegrate] and [Dismantle].
He did not know how effective it would be on a living creature.
‘Surely it won’t cause blood to splatter everywhere, will it, ugh.’
There was no more room for hesitation. Cleio clenched his teeth and chanted the incantation.
“[Ash to ash, dust to dust, return!]”
The familiar [Dismantle][Disintegrate] magic formula was instantly combined.
The gigantic magic formula appeared and burned the beast’s entire body.
Kweeeeeeek?
In the dazzling light too bright to open his eyes, the beast thrashed around.
Cleio seized the chance to fill his remaining two magic slots with [Leap][Float].
After retreating about ten meters from the beast, he barely managed to open the subspace pouch.
Clatter, jingle—
With stiff fingers, after fumbling several times, he finally managed to grasp three or so bronze fragments.
‘I can do it. I can do it. I must do it!!!’
As soon as the [Dismantle][Disintegrate] magic faded.
Before Cleio’s eyes, which stung from the light, the wolf, now only stripped of its hair, reappeared.
The wolf, with all its silver-gray fur burned black and fallen off, looked like a hairless Samoyed.
Backpedaling, Cleio tripped over a stone and fell sitting.
‘It turned into a bald beast.’
Absurdly enough… it was scary, but funny.
Though the beast still flashed its violet eyes menacingly and let out a ghastly shriek, all the coolness it had exuded earlier as a mighty monster was completely gone.
Unintentionally, a hollow laugh burst out.
“H- haha… ha….”
Even if someone witnessed it, a standoff between a giant hairless dog and a boy with a parasol would have nothing cool about it.
‘When Arthur slashes that one’s head off with his sword in that awesome “unleashing power” scene… Now, the plot’s twisted and I’m like this.’
As if realizing it was being mocked, the beast’s four gleaming eyes glared at Cleio.
Its fur may have been burned off, but its sharp teeth and claws were intact.
Kuaaaak!!!
The beast charged straight at Cleio.
As [Perception] was maximized, all its movements appeared to slow as if in slow motion.
Flash.
Thanks to [Perception], Cleio could see faint ether shimmering in the left eye of the beast’s left head, and the right eye of its right head.
‘So the beast stones are in there!’
The beast was a being founded upon the beast stones at its core. Therefore, the place where the beast stones resided was its weakness. Attacking those spots was the way to eliminate the beast.
Jingle—
Cleio tossed the bronze fragments, slick with sweat, into the air.
The incantation that came from his lips also sounded muffled and slow, like a video in slow motion.
“[Bearer of uncountable calamities, I rage—let the sharp bronze spear strike down!]”
To adjust the ether coordinates, he extended the unopened lace parasol in lieu of a wand.
The bronze fragments, shaped midair into spearheads, hurtled toward the ground at terrifying speed.
The problem was control. Trying to direct with the parasol, his control was poor!
Two of the spears he had managed to [Duplicate] unfortunately left the circle’s range, reverted to bronze crumbs, and scattered away.
‘Damn it!’
Unless using expensive beaststones as a medium, no magic could be maintained outside the circle.
Magic, divorced from normal physical laws, operated solely by its own law within the circle, and only within it did it form through magic formula.
However, the remaining two spears flew true to their targets.
Shiiick— thud—
Thud—
Blood splattered and bones shattered.
As the two spears crushed the beast’s back and one head, they pinned it to the ground.
The wolf, pinned to the floor mid-leap, howled madly.
Kuwaaaaak—!
Splaaash—!
Surging beast blood soaked Cleio’s entire body.
The viscous, purple liquid was stickier than human blood.
His nostrils were already numb and he didn’t even notice the stench.
Blood and saliva spurted from the beast’s one remaining muzzle.
Crunch! Crack! Gnash!
The beast, frenzied and desperate, tried to snap its teeth around Cleio’s feet.
The two great spears were fading.
‘I have to get rid of the other head too!’
Cleio, lifting the hand that had touched the ground, thrust the parasol forward.
At that moment, the handle of the parasol separated from the lace, and a thin blade gleamed in the dying darkness.
Adjusting ether coordinates became markedly easier.
Unable to get up from the ground, Cleio pooled all his remaining ether and once again cast [Spear of Achilles].
Clatter—
The bronze was thrown.
The brilliant magic formula lit up the lower part of the darkened city.
Whoooosh—
The magic formula Cleio unleashed with all his power illuminated the entire dilapidated street as if it were daylight.
Excluding the [Duplicate] magic, the formula’s shape was now concise.
With the simplified formula, unused ether lingered on the ground unmoving, like fire that would not burn, after the spell was cast.
The excessively dazzling blaze of light snatched away his vision.
Kuwaaaang— smash smash smash—
Like divine punishment, the mighty spear that fell from the sky pierced the beast’s remaining head, leaving behind a huge crater.
Cleio, caught in the aftershock of the magic, was swept into the crater himself.
Though he remained conscious, he was helpless, his strength drained.
As tension left him, the sensation of his beast-blood-soaked clothing clinging soggily to him and the aching in his untapped muscles all became even more vivid.
Fwwssssh…
Lying on his side, Cleio saw before his eyes the beast, both its heads crushed, slowly disintegrating.
The wolf’s blood and flesh faded away into minute fragments and vanished. It felt more like a mineral breaking than the corpse of a living creature.
Soon the massive carcass all scattered away.
On the ground, only bloodstains and two thin iridescent fragments of metal remained. On the beaststones, golden ether shimmered.
[Vargr’s Mica
: Reflective beaststone. Transparently reflects applied magic.]
The luminous writing of ‘Promise’ flickered coldly over the mother-of-pearl fragments.
With a throbbing headache, Cleio, intent only on blocking out the light, covered the beaststone with his palm.
From afar came the rapid, light footsteps on the ground—characteristic of a knight.
“Follow Swain!”
“That way!”
“Is the wolf beast down?!”
‘Ah… The knights will probably handle the rest….’
Cleio’s consciousness drifted away.
Over his unfocused eyes, the last message of ‘Promise’ was engraved.
[—The author recognizes this development as canon.]
[— Chapter 1 is complete. Chapter 2 will now begin.]
[—‘Unique Skill’ Editor Privilege reloads. 3/3]
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This year, Swain Temple turned twenty-two and was a first-year official knight in the Royal Capital Defense Force.
He was proud to be called “Sir Swain.”
There were quite a few swordsmen who reached an ether level, but knights who swore allegiance to the lord and received the knightly ‘rank’ were far fewer.
When he first joined two years ago, he was expected to become the highest-ranking knight among his peers the soonest.
But his prime soon faded.
After the summer expedition to the Pintos Mountains, he became the laughingstock of the whole order, ace or not.
When he first received the dispatch order, Swain and his seniors had taken it as a light excursion.
They even complained about nobles mobilizing the knights to catch their runaway sons.
That displeasure vanished after the incident at the mountain lodge.
Unable to catch a frail-looking seventeen-year-old boy—and breaking his left leg in the process—Swain was viewed as a fool by his seniors in the order.
‘Wow, you couldn’t even beat a kid who’d blow away with the wind.’
‘He went flying and crashed, right? What a waste of those muscles. Hahaha.’
Since that day, Swain had thrown himself into training with renewed resolve.
As a result, at the start of autumn, he was promoted to a level-5 swordsman.
A first-year knight reaching level 5 was rare.
For Swain, who had been longing for a chance at revenge, the mission to track the beast that fled the defense academy’s barrier was a golden opportunity.
Swain, bigger than most and with solid ether-fortified thighs, was faster than anyone.
With his three companions lagging behind, Swain dashed through the city, attacking the beast with sword energy.
But the beast, suffering only shallow wounds, slipped from Swain’s grasp without stopping.
As if with wings, it leaped over buildings and escaped!
When Swain finally caught up to the beast, he could do nothing but lower his sword.
In the searing light—too bright to open his eyes—the fight between mage and beast left no room to intervene.
Spears raining from the sky.
Ether in terrifying volumes.
Magic overflowing from circles rising around the ruins—vast and overwhelming.
It felt like a power on a completely different plane from the magic Swain had known.
Swain was not ignorant of magic.
Knights of the Defense Force regularly saw their companion mages spread circles to heal wounds or refine beaststones.
But—
‘Can this… even be called magic?’
What unfolded before his eyes appeared to be a power more divine than mortal.
Only after all the light vanished did Swain dare jump into the crater where the beast had fallen.
But the beast had already disintegrated.
Inside the pit, the mage who cast the powerful spell lay unconscious.
He was a man with a shabby and frail-looking build.
Kneeling in the blood-soaked pit, Swain lifted the mage.
‘A kid?!’
The mage’s youthful face was smeared with beast blood and dust.
Swain instantly recognized him.
He was the very boy who had broken Swain’s leg that summer.
“Prince Aser!”
The boy could not answer at all.
Swain, too, was so shocked he remained frozen in place for a moment.
The face of one who had met awe wore a mix of reverence and fear.
It was the rough sensation of something licking his cheek that roused Cleio from deep sleep.
“Moth, stop…”
“At least get up today. Eat before you sleep again!”
Behemoth had snuggled up next to him.
Cleio moved only his hand to gently stroke the cat’s back. It was warm and soft.
“Haaaahm. I’m not hungry.”
“But still!”
Leaping up, Behemoth batted the cheek he’d been licking with a paw.
The claws were retracted, and the soft-padded punch was just ticklish.
“Alright, alright…”
Cleio pulled up his sluggish body. He yawned nonstop, and his throat was dry.
Judging by the presence outside and the bright terrace, it seemed to be morning.
“…How long did I sleep?”
“You slept like a log for four days, you lazy bum!”
2) Book of Common Prayer
3) Iliad, Homer, trans./adapted.