Episode 18 Wave
“What in the world happened?”
When Perseta finally dispelled the darkness and reappeared, Plian asked, shuddering in fright.
As the ground that had been buried in shadow showed itself again, the corpses whose heads had been cut off came into view, along with two mages who had somehow died clutching their throats in agony.
And there was Viscount Felix, drooling like an idiot and reeking of filth.
Perseta bowed his head.
“I am sorry. I handled it on my own.”
“You— you did this?”
“Yes. Even so, there should be little trouble. All the conditions for a domain duel were met, and these armed corpses here will serve as proof. We can keep Viscount Felix confined and demand reparations as the price for his release. If possible, it would be best to take land.”
Perseta spoke evenly.
Then—ah!—he closed his mouth.
He had seen his father and Illianne trembling badly.
Perseta reproached himself.
‘My mistake. I lashed out without thinking because I was angry. I took precautions in my own way, but I never set up a proper barrier… I could never have hidden all of a demon lord’s presence, could I?’
Demons of the Netherworld live far nearer to the sun of mana than humans do.
Humans could never withstand that presence.
Even more so—what would it be like to feel the presence of a demon lord, not just an ordinary demon?
Baron Plian and Illianne, being mages, would have felt that terror even more keenly.
It seemed Salinelle had somehow used a spell to endure, yet he had been unable to shield those two as well.
‘If I’m not careful they could end up traumatized…’
Perseta grew uneasy.
If his father and sister gained trauma, it was entirely his fault.
At the same time, he worried that they might fear him and keep him at a distance.
Feeling such a fear made Perseta feel cowardly, and that pained him.
Just then Father Plian took a step toward Perseta.
“Are you—are you all right? Such ominous… dreadful energy could be felt. Are you hurt anywhere?”
Illianne was the same.
“Brother, are you okay? Quickly. Come here quickly. Family has to stick together. If we stay together, we can overcome everything.”
The two came to Perseta and hugged him tight.
Perseta was a little surprised by that warmth. He soon felt his heart melt away.
The tension and anger he had not even noticed inside himself dissolved completely.
And he looked back at himself.
‘I am… poor at controlling my emotions.’
Because he had felt so little emotion in his life, he had no resistance to it.
Anger was the same. It was the first time in his life he had been so furious, so he had not been able to rein it in.
‘But now that I know, it’s enough. I must stay aware and be careful.’
With such grateful family beside him, he felt that even if he made mistakes he could soon reflect and correct himself.
That thought gave Perseta strength.
While the three family members held one another tightly, Salinelle wore a dumbfounded expression.
He could not understand Baron Plian and Illianne.
‘Huh—no matter how you look at him, Perseta is a monster.’
Yet they were worrying about him?
So this is what family is.
‘A fellow with no family lives in sorrow.’
Salinelle was an orphan. Even the surname Drmechi had been inherited from his master, Zerozia Drmechi.
‘Master, I miss you particularly today.’
Salinelle looked up at the sky and swallowed his bitter feelings.
Across the continent, faith that reveres angels is widely spread.
Even now, though mystery is fading and it has been over fifty years since an angelic miracle last appeared, people still do not lose their faith.
Those who had literally witnessed an angel descend might have become the elderly, yet they were still alive, and proofs of various miracles eternally imbued with angelic blessing overflowed in the world.
At the core of such belief stood the Angelic Holy Church.
In the largest site of angelic descent, located in the continent’s center—the so-called “Basin of Salshegen”—there lay the main seat of the Angelic Holy Church.
And there, a Holy Woman existed.
“Holy Lady!”
“Holy Lady, please look this way!”
“The Holy Lady looked at me!”
“No, she looked at me!”
“Children, the Holy Lady looks upon us all.”
Holy Woman Shara Elif.
She was the last miracle in this age when miracles were fading.
At a time when mages struggled even to link with the Spirit Realm, Phantasm Realm, and Fey Realm, let alone the five Upper Worlds, she alone could still communicate with the Divine Realm, the highest of the Upper Worlds, and borrow its power.
Therefore, mages regarded the Holy Woman and theologians as a type of mage, but they themselves saw their calling as a special connection to angels.
It was not that they never associated with mages, yet there was a theoretical and methodological gap in how they viewed the world.
Thus, unlike mages, they seldom left the sacred site. Indeed, they rarely even stepped outside the sanctuary’s hall.
Their daily life was solely to research, commune, and worship within the sanctuary.
But today, that Holy Woman had come out into the street.
She hastened with many theologians following her anxious steps.
“Holy Lady, is it truly so?”
“I am not certain. That is why we are going to confirm it now.”
“Oh… the descent of a demon! Has it not been nearly forty years since that happened?”
“Exactly. And the prescience the angel conveyed to me… seemed to indicate that it was not a natural descent but a summoning.”
“A summoning! A summoning, you say!”
The theologians were aghast.
The summoning of a demon—every time that occurred, what immense tragedy had followed in history?
If a summoning had indeed been carried out, perhaps the tragedy had already begun.
The hundreds, perhaps thousands of lives offered as sacrifice, and the thousands or tens of thousands more taken by the demon’s destruction, might already no longer belong to this world.
“It is not yet certain. My prescience comes only as a vague sensation. Therefore, we must confirm it.”
Eyes shining, the Holy Woman hurried her steps.
Their destination was the Astral Observatory built in the Basin of Salshegen.
Using the land’s power, which resounded strongly with the Divine Realm, mages there studied and observed the highest Upper Worlds, including the Divine Realm and the Netherworld.
“Holy Lady, welcome.”
When they reached the observatory, several mages were already waiting out front to greet them.
The Holy Woman’s brow furrowed.
The fact that they awaited her without being told implied that the observatory too had discovered something alarming.
“Could it be…?”
Her ominous foreboding hit the mark.
The director of the observatory nodded.
“We observed a sudden, momentary surge of resonance with the Netherworld.”
“Where was it located?”
“According to the map, near Baron Verité’s domain in the eastern part of the Kingdom Dublanc.”
“Has a demon… been summoned?”
“I am sorry. We cannot determine that. Being able to observe it at all was possible only thanks to the power of this sacred ground. It was chance.”
“Thank you. That is a great help.”
The Holy Woman bowed her head and turned around.
Her face had grown rigid.
The theologians who followed wore the same expression.
“Condemning every demon that sets foot in this land is the duty of all theologians of the Angelic Holy Church, and it is also my duty.”
“Truly it is.”
“We leave at once for Baron Verité’s domain. We must ascertain what happened, and if we discover the summoner, we must demand responsibility for daring to commit so great a sin.”
“So shall it be!”
“We depart today.”
With white raiment fluttering, the Holy Woman turned back toward the sanctuary.
The theologians of the Angelic Holy Church followed with faces full of resolve.
“Ahh…”
Watching them, the director of the Astral Observatory let out a long sigh.
“The Holy Woman setting foot in the world—it hasn’t happened in fifty years, has it? The world is about to be thrown into turmoil.”
With eyes harboring worry and a hint of expectation, he watched the Holy Woman’s retreating figure.
At that very time.
Archmage Sienel Mirsa burst from her laboratory, greatly excited.
“Pack up! Pack up the luggage!”
Her apprentices jumped in surprise at those words.
“Huh? Master, didn’t you say we wouldn’t go to Baron Verité’s territory?”
“You said moving had become difficult now that you are older.”
How joyful the two apprentices had been when they read Arandria’s announcement:
The greatest magical achievement since the Almagest!
If a mage’s heart did not race at such words, he was no mage.
Yet their master had proven not to be a mage at all…?
They had begged at once to go to Baron verité’s domain, but Sienel Mirsa had not budged.
“To complete the Almagest? No. In my view the Almagest is the problem. Something is off. I don’t know what, but something is wrong. Of course! I too am curious. Just what are they making such a fuss to announce? But I have little life left, and moving is terribly hard… I have no time to waste chasing such vain theory if I am to surpass the Almagest before I die!”
So she had spoken, tormenting her apprentices.
Honestly, though she was their master, the apprentices often felt they had no idea what she was thinking.
The Almagest, the beginning and end of magic, is wrong?
If she had said that to other mages she would have been called senile in her old age.
And when they asked for grounds, she had only answered that it was a feeling from her 140 years in magic.
But now, suddenly, they need to pack up?
“Ah! Hurry up and pack! We’ll go to Baron Verité’s domain just as you wished!”
At those words the apprentices brightened and flung themselves into action, hurriedly stuffing travel necessities into their bags while questioning:
“That’s wonderful, Master!”
“But Master! Why the sudden change of heart? Is it indeed because of the theory that the Almagest will be completed—?”
“Silence! It is not because of that!”
“Pardon?”
When the apprentices turned in confusion, Sienel Mirsa shouted while glaring at the enormous mana detector in the center of her laboratory.
“The Netherworld! A signal from the Netherworld was detected!”
“Excuse me?”
“From the direction of Baron Verité’s domain! Mana from the Netherworld came flying! You know it too, don’t you? That I have chased the signals of the Upper Worlds all my life!”
“Y-yes… indeed?”
“That’s it! Exactly! And that direction happens to be Baron Berité’s domain! Is it coincidence? Something is definitely happening there! Quickly! Pack quickly!”
At moments like this, the apprentices could not help the irreverent thought that perhaps their master truly was senile.
Did she not cut the thread of her own words and spit them out any old way?
But since this was nothing new, they skillfully packed while asking:
“Master! What should we report to His Majesty the Emperor?”
“Report that I am leaving for research!”
“For how long?”
“Indefinitely!”
“E-eh…? Indefinitely is a bit…”
“Ah! Tell him that if he will not accept it, I will quit!”
“Uh, yes…”
The apprentice worried about being questioned by the emperor, yet once the master went that far, nothing more could be said.
The emperor would be flabbergasted, but he would ultimately accept it.
Their master, Sienel Mirsa, was the Empire’s “Sage.”
Right after Archmage Bardente had gone down to a rural barony, she had inherited the title of Sage.
In other words, the mage whom everyone of the time acknowledged as the greatest was none other than her.
Thus, before the wave that Arandria’s announcement had stirred could even arrive, yet another great wave rose and began heading toward Baron Verité’s domain.
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