If asked which technique, among all the warriors' movements she had mimicked so far, she was most glad to have learned, it would be hard to give a straight answer. But if she had to name one, the first that would come to mind would surely be the warrior Eisen—or else, one of the Three Great Knights of the Northern Nations who had once gone missing: Varheit.
If Eisen's techniques had permeated to the point of forming the very foundation of Linie's body techniques, becoming the groundwork upon which she unleashed all her mimicked skills in battle, then Varheit's archery was something else entirely—it vastly broadened the scope of Linie's tactics.
Positioning his body techniques so as to always occupy angles that were irritating for the opponent, his famously flawless accuracy, and above all, his rapid-fire archery that allowed no opening for an enemy to activate magic.
The greatest reason Linie abandoned the idea of learning Zoltraak lay precisely here. Had this been the mimicry of some other archer rather than Varheit, Linie would have pursued mastering Zoltraak without hesitation.
Though it was something unknown to Linie herself, this archery had once deprived even Macht of the Golden Land of any chance to activate magic—right up until the moment he invoked the spell "Diá Golze, the Magic That Turns Things to Gold."
Perhaps because both the bow and arrows could be mimicked entirely on her own, Varheit's archery suited Linie so well that it convinced her to abandon the idea of spending time learning Zoltraak. After countless modifications piled upon modifications, it was no exaggeration to say that it had become Linie's one and only truly original weapon.
"..."
Linie stood at the edge of a cliff.
What she fixed her gaze upon was a solitary, square-shaped rock jutting out from the cliff on the opposite side, far in the distance.
A gulping sound reached Linie's ears.
It was the children watching her back who had swallowed hard.
Each of them, in their own way, stared intently at Linie's back as she focused on the distant rock.
"Mimic Trace, activation on."
She thrust her left hand forward, her fingers moving as if grasping the air.
At the same time, black magical power formed in what had been an empty hand, gradually shaping itself into a bow.
It was a white bow longer than Linie herself. Its form resembled the bow Varheit once used, though slimmer. Like his, it had bamboo-joint–like protrusions at four points: the upper and lower ends of the grip, and two evenly spaced points between them. Its thick, cylindrical frame, rounded and glossy, carried an air of refinement.
Taking into account the possibility of firing a treasured sword as an arrow, the grip was more than twice as long as Varheit's. By adding a similar protrusion at its center, it allowed the user to rest the sword there while shooting, protecting the hand and maintaining a clear line of sight. Modified again and again, it could now truly be called Linie's sole original weapon.
In her other hand appeared an ordinary arrow, conjured through mimicry. She nocked it to the string.
The bowstring itself was a mimicry of threads once manipulated by a certain demon. An ordinary human warrior could scarcely even draw it, but Linie, possessing the physical strength of a demon, pulled it with ease.
And then—
The sound of the string snapping rang out more than ten times, but none of the children behind her could discern it accurately.
Those sounds existed only for an instant. To the children, it felt like nothing more than a brief gust of wind.
The only fact they could perceive was this: the arrow that had been in one of Linie's hands was already gone.
"W-what just happened?" "The arrow disappeared somehow. Did she drop it?"
None of them realized that Linie had already fired the arrow in that fleeting moment.
(…It's distracting. I wish they'd hurry up and disappear,)
Though she frowned irritably, Linie never broke her concentration, continuing to stare ahead in the direction the arrow had flown. There was no visible change in the protruding rock.
One glance was enough for her to know the result, and she closed her eyes. The children behind her, having no idea what had occurred, had no way of understanding the outcome.
But before long, they too would learn.
From beyond the cliff where the rock stood, something came flying through the air.
That something looked human.
As its silhouette grew clearer, it became apparent that it was carrying a large number of figures—each pierced through both arms by arrows—as it flew toward them.
"Th-That's amazing!? From that distance, every single shot hit!!"
A blonde girl clad in a black nun's habit descended excitedly to Linie's side.
In her arms, she carried more than a dozen apples, each one pierced cleanly through the very center by an arrow.
At the sight of this, the children burst into cheers all at once.
"That's awesome!! Big Sis Linie!!"
"Not just swords and magic—your archery's perfect too!!"
"M-Maybe… next time… you could teach me…?"
The children crowded around the two girls in a rush.
In contrast, Linie did not move an inch, keeping her eyes fixed on the rock, while Ange—the blonde priestess in her nun's habit—bent down to the children's height and happily showed them the apples skewered by arrows in her arms, smiling brightly.
"..."
This is really annoying, Linie cursed inwardly, yet she never took her eyes off the jutting rock on the cliff. To an onlooker it might have seemed pointless, but not to Linie as an archer. Simply accepting the result and calling it good was not enough. She reviewed everything: whether there had been any discrepancy between the image she held before firing and the outcome—replaying in her mind the moment she released the arrow, the instant it struck, and the arrow's trajectory itself.
…As part of that, she briefly glanced at the apples that had served as targets in Ange's arms, but quickly averted her gaze when the bothersome children swarmed around them.
"…Tonight, I'll do it again."
Feeling somewhat deflated, Linie muttered to herself as she looked up at the sky.
At first, she had been sure she was practicing alone, out of sight. Now this happened every time she trained.
The children, who had initially been afraid of Linie for being a demon, gradually grew curious and admiring of the hero who had saved them. Before long, they began peeking at her training from afar.
…That alone wouldn't have interfered with her training, so she had left it be. The problem was that Ange ended up finding out.
Ange had already been deeply interested in Linie—the demon who, even if only in a pseudo sense, could wield the goddess's magic. Eventually, Ange began observing Linie's training alongside the children as well.
And that's where the miscalculation occurred.
To put it simply… she was found out for using leftover apples as targets for her archery practice.
At first, Linie hadn't really cared when it was discovered. But her casual attitude toward wasting food ended up touching a nerve with Ange.
"Using the apples everyone worked together to grow as archery targets…
Surely Lady Linie's bow must be magnificent, hmm~?"
Faced with Ange's smile, which carried a palpable pressure, Linie found herself unable to offer a single rebuttal.
…Memories surfaced from her time in that village—two farmers she had lived with. A wife advancing with a smile toward her husband after discovering his secret, and a young Linie watching it all unfold. She hadn't understood why the woman was angry, and despite not being involved, the fear she felt back then resurfaced now. Even without changing her expression, Linie couldn't push back against that pressure. It was the moment she learned that humans could express anger even while smiling.
Perhaps because being told that about techniques she had mimicked with her own "Imitation Magic: Airphasen" rubbed her the wrong way, Linie begrudgingly accepted Ange's presence as an observer—on the condition that she not interfere—half out of spite.
"But hey, but hey, Ange-sis. Linie-sis's bow really is amazing, but there's no way it can punch through that rock like you could with Zoltraak, right?"
"Huh?"
At the sudden remark from one of the boys, Ange froze as the topic turned toward her.
"Y-Yeah, I mean, you said that for a full-fledged mage, being able to blast through a rock like that is the benchmark, right, Ange-sis?"
"Huh? …H-Huh!? W-Well… now that you mention it… did I… say something like that, maybe…? Ahahaha…"
Breaking into a cold sweat, Ange desperately tried to recall her own past words, but all she could manage was an awkward, faltering smile.
"…Oh? Is that so?"
"W-Wait, Lady Linie, what's with that look!?"
"It's nothing."
Ange instinctively stepped back at the suspicious glance Linie shot her with narrowed eyes.
When humans lie, their reactions generally fall into two types. The first are those who, like demons, lie without a hint of disturbance. The second are those who avert their gaze and slightly disrupt the flow of their mana—like Ange just now. To Linie, who possessed special eyes capable of seeing the flow of magical power, it was completely obvious.
…To begin with, if Ange—who had barely managed to defend herself with the goddess's magic during that level of demon attack—were truly capable of firing a Zoltraak powerful enough to shatter that rock, she would never have ended up in such a situation in the first place.
No matter how much the demons lurking in the southern nations had improved their resistance to Zoltraak.
"M-My, everyone? To begin with, you see, even if someone can pierce that rock with Zoltraak, whether they could precisely aim and hit only the apples placed on such a distant rock like Lady Linie just did is a completely different matter, right? Lady Linie's training doesn't even focus on things like that, and besides, it's a bow, not magic, so comparing them in the first place is wrong, I think!!"
Unable to admit that she couldn't actually blast through a rock at that distance with Zoltraak like a true full-fledged mage, Ange desperately tried to steer the conversation back to Linie's archery.
"…So what you're saying is that my bow can't punch through that rock?"
This time, that remark seemed to have stepped squarely on one of Linie's landmines.
"Ah… n-no, that's not what I meant. It's just that the vectors are far too different to really compare, or rather…"
Once again, Ange lost her nerve and began stumbling over her words.
At first, when she had pressed in with a smile, she had resembled the wife from that farming couple. Now, however, she looked more like the husband who had been cornered by that same wife, stammering under her gaze. This girl named Ange ended up simultaneously reminding Linie of both of those people from her memories.
"Th-then that means… after all—" "So Big Sis Linie can do it too!?" "And with a bow, not magic!!" "I wanna see! I wanna see!" "Hey, show us!!"
Taking Linie's words to mean that she was capable of it as well, the children excitedly crowded around her.
The children knew that Linie was indeed the frightening demon the priests had spoken of. But at the same time, she was also the hero who had saved their beloved big sister when she was in danger.
"…Tch, you're all so selfish."
Without changing her expression, Linie muttered irritably.
If they were going to push her this far, she briefly considered not merely "piercing" the rock, but blowing away the entire cliff supporting it—and everything around it—using the Pseudo–Divine Chronicle's Shattering Sword, Schwer Volke II.
The backlash from the explosion would undoubtedly reach this side as well, but she also thought it might be a good opportunity to blow away all these annoying brats at once.
After all, from the very beginning, Linie had intended to kill every last one of them in the end.
That was why she was staying with them in the first place.
"Ahem!! Well, putting that aside, everyone, breakfast should be ready about now! Watching is fine, but only in moderation—let's eat before it gets cold!!"
"Yeees!!"
Though looking a little reluctant, everyone replied with smiles to Ange's words.
By sheer luck, the children never got to witness a recreation of a fragment of the hell that had once shattered mountains.
"I don't need it."
Meanwhile, Linie curtly declined as she reached toward the apples in Ange's hands, still pierced through with arrows.
"No. You. Don't."
Ange blocked Linie's hand with her shoulder, pulling the apples back behind her.
"These apples were grown by everyone together, and you're the one who used them as targets without asking, Lady Linie. Even if they were leftovers that didn't sell, everyone still has the right to eat them!"
"That's why I'm saying breakfast can just be those leftovers. We demons don't really need proper meals in the first place."
"No. You. Don't!!"
Once again, Ange pressed in on Linie with a smile.
"Meals taste better when everyone eats together. So not just these apples—let's eat breakfast together as well. That's the rule here at the monastery!"
She declared it firmly, thrusting her raised index finger right in front of Linie's eyes.
"A monastery, but there's only one nun here, sis." "Y-You really shouldn't say unnecessary things…"
The children whispered among themselves so the two of them wouldn't hear.
"Now then, come on. Today's kitchen duty is Ein and Kurt. Let's eat before their hard work gets cold! Lady Linie."
Overpowered by the pressure of Ange's smile, Linie was led by the hand into the monastery together with the children.
Along the way, the children tugged at Linie's hand and sleeves as well, dragging her toward the dining hall.
Yes—eventually, she had intended to kill every last one of them, without exception.
Just as she had during her time as an executioner. No exceptions.
Even if her existence was no longer completely unknown after being exposed by Solitaire, it was still better to erase all witnesses.
And yet—
Now, Linie found that she could not shake off the hand pulling her along.
◇
And then, nightfall.
Near the depths of midnight, Linie walked through the dark chapel.
This chapel, which also served as the monastery's lobby, contained the main entrance that led outside.
Planning to resume the training that had been interrupted that morning, Linie headed for that main door, passing through the dim chapel.
"..."
But then, she suddenly stopped.
Looking up at the ceiling, she saw moonlight streaming in through an open window above the entrance.
She noticed that something had been set up just outside that window where the moonlight poured in.
It was a round mirror, large enough to fit perfectly within the frame of the window. The mirror began to move on its own, and the moonlight it reflected started to glide toward the center of the chapel's interior.
—That mirror… it's being moved by magic.
Sensing the magic infused into the mirror, Linie followed the destination of the reflected moonlight with her eyes. From the spot it was heading toward, she could see a familiar flow of magical power.
And then, at the very moment the reflected moonlight illuminated that place—
There, she saw the figure of a young priestess kneeling in prayer before the goddess statue in the chapel.
Bathed in moonlight, the beautiful blonde girl remained unaware of Linie's gaze as she clasped the cross hanging from her neck and offered her prayers to the goddess statue.
"…Ah."
Perhaps having finished her prayer, the girl noticed the moonlight illuminating her and looked up—and at the same time realized Linie was watching her. Whatever solemn atmosphere had been there a moment before vanished; her voice came out a little awkwardly.
"Ahahaha… you saw something embarrassing, didn't you?"
The priestess girl, Ange, laughed shyly, reaching a hand behind her head.
"It's nothing. I know that priests like you have such habits."
Linie was no stranger to human society, having extensive experience as a scout. She knew that priests harbored a special feeling called "faith" toward the goddess, and expressed that feeling in the form of "prayer." Whether or not she understood what that faith truly was, Linie felt no particular doubt toward Ange's priestly behavior.
"More importantly… what is that?"
What caught Linie's interest was not Ange's actions, but the mechanism of the mirror that carried the moon's reflected light all the way to the goddess statue.
"Oh, this is—"
Noticing that Linie had taken an interest in the monastery, Ange smiled happily and began explaining the moving mirror.
"Many generations ago, the priests here made this mirror as a little bit of whimsy, so that the goddess statue would appear more sacred. At this time of night, the mirror moves by magic and reflects the moonlight so that it shines directly on the goddess's statue.
"A monastery is originally a place where priests in training decipher the scriptures and undergo harsh trials to test their faith, so it naturally tends to be a place with very little entertainment.
"They made this with the wish of at least soothing their exhausted hearts."
"..."
"Humans are strange creatures. Sometimes, rather than bright light like the sun, many people feel a sense of peace from gentle, faint light like this. By shining it on the goddess statue, they reaffirm their faith in the goddess, while also healing the hearts worn down by training. The effect may be minimal, but it's better than nothing.
"And of course—I love it."
By bathing the goddess statue in the pale light of the moon, they sought to enhance its sanctity while easing weary hearts. That, apparently, was the main reason the mirror had been installed.
"…Or perhaps,"
Ange added after a moment,
"By doing this, they wanted to believe that the goddess is still watching over us. Maybe our predecessors wanted the goddess to acknowledge their efforts—their training and their studies.
"I understand that feeling too. That's why I offer my prayers like this."
Clasping the cross at her neck with both hands as if it were precious, Ange said this while looking down.
"…You, and that elven monk as well—everyone who worships the goddess says the same things."
Remembering the elf man she had once fought, Linie found herself thinking that. He was one of the opponents she never wanted to face again—more so even than Solitaire.
"Lady Linie?"
"You, and that man… you people are still incomprehensible. Praying won't change anything. You know that as well, don't you? And yet you keep praying. Why?"
"That's…"
Ange hesitated.
Even without fully understanding it, Linie could sense that Ange's prayers did not come from pure faith alone.
As proof, Linie had not missed how Ange's hands trembled as she prayed earlier, and how the flow of her magic wavered in response.
"…Does it have something to do with the lie you told this morning?"
"!?"
Struck right on the mark, Ange looked up at Linie in shock.
After a moment, as if resigned, she sat down on one of the chapel's benches.
"The truth is, I can't pierce that rock with Zoltraak the way full-fledged mages can."
Lowering her head, Ange began to explain the events little by little.
Almost as if she were making a confession.
That the one hearing her confession was not the goddess or a priest, but a demon like Linie, could only be called ironic.
"It's not that I can't use Zoltraak at all. But it doesn't even come close to Lady Linie's bow. Still, in order to reassure the children, I have no choice but to make them believe that I'm strong."
Her hands, resting on her knees, were trembling.
Faced with Ange like that, Linie showed no particular emotion, and simply spoke in the rational manner befitting a demon.
"To begin with, Zoltraak was never designed to take down prey from that distance. If all you want is to kill the target, there's no need to fire from that far away. In all my years watching battlefields like this, almost none of the mages who used Zoltraak ever reached what you call 'full-fledged.' If killing is your only goal, there's no need to refine yourself to that extent in the first place."
The true threat of Zoltraak was not its power or range. Its real danger lay in the refined simplicity of its spell formula, which made it easy for any human with magical aptitude to learn. Teach it to someone with even a little talent, and you could turn them into a makeshift soldier—that was its greatest strength.
That was why, in the endless wars that plagued the southern nations, Zoltraak had run rampant.
The "magic to kill people" had, before anyone realized it, spread as "magic for people to kill one another."
"If you're going to do something, it's more efficient to think about how much power and accuracy you can achieve within a range you can actually reach.
"Your worries—and your prayers—are misplaced."
Though still young as a demon, Linie had spent many years effectively alone on the battlefield. Because of that, her words carried a strange persuasiveness for Ange.
But that was something only a professional of the battlefield could say. It was not an easy standard for children—who knew nothing of what battle truly was—to understand.
As long as humans had a loosely defined notion of what constituted a "full-fledged mage," amateurs had no choice but to rely on that way of thinking.
"Even so, I envy you, Lady Linie. Even knowing there is an insurmountable gap between demons and humans, your bow was endlessly fast, far-reaching, and refined."
"..."
"Even as the rise of Zoltraak led to the elimination of warrior-archers, Lady Linie's bow was on a level that allowed no one to follow. You can do everything I can't—and that's why I envy you."
"But, well," Ange continued with a resigned smile.
"I've already given up on that. Your bow was so refined and beautiful that I could tell you must have attained it through unimaginable effort. Once I realized that, I completely accepted that it was beyond me."
"…I see."
"At first, I thought I was just teasing you for using apples as targets. But before I knew it, I started to enjoy watching your form when you shoot."
"It's not very dignified, is it?" Ange added with a self-deprecating smile.
"The children, too, probably found it fascinating beyond words.
"All of them were caught up in battlefields where Zoltraak flew back and forth, and they lost their parents. Seeing you, Lady Linie, still surpassing all that with a bow—I think it looked incredibly cool to them."
To Anju and the children, it must have looked exactly like a hero unbound by the times.
Rinier, wielding primitive weapons yet overwhelming the most advanced arms, was surely a sight that pierced straight through the children's hearts—or so Anju thought.
"Even so… I still end up feeling pathetic. That's why—if the Goddess is truly still watching over us—then maybe, just maybe, she'd lend us a little help in some unseen way."
Anju lowered her head again as she spoke sadly.
Anju was not an ordinary mage. She was what was called a priestess—one who wielded the Goddess's magic. She could lift curses, heal others' wounds, even protect someone from danger.
And yet, she was poor at repelling danger itself. She was especially weak with offensive Goddess magic. Standing before Rinier, who could even reproduce and wield one of those spells—the Goddess's Three Spears—Anju's pride as a priestess was utterly crushed.
After listening to Anju speak for a while, Rinier finally opened her mouth.
"—Then our interests align."
"...Huh?"
At Rinier's sudden words, Anju reflexively lifted her face, stunned.
"The demons who attacked you earlier. True, this southern region—human battlefields—makes an ideal hiding place for demons, but that's only when acting individually. If that many demons move together in a group in such an area, they're guaranteed to attract human attention. Can you tell why they would commit such a foolish act and attack this place anyway?"
"Th-that's…"
Unable to answer Rinier's question, Anju faltered.
"The only things demons like us take interest in—aside from feeding on humans—are matters related to magic. That being the case, their objective was either the Goddess-magic texts gathered here, or a magical duel with a priestess.
Considering that you're the only priestess at this monastery, the answer is probably the former."
Ignoring the Anju who had frozen as if to say she had never considered that possibility, Rinier continued.
"Especially if you're the only priestess protecting this monastery, the odds of success are far higher than at other monasteries or churches.
—Looked at another way, this place is also the perfect bait to lure demons."
"B-bait!?"
Being told that the monastery she protected was 'bait,' Anju cried out without thinking.
Ignoring her, Rinier raised a hand before her and closed her eyes in concentration.
"—Mimic Trace, activation on."
At the same moment she chanted, black magical power manifested from Rinier's hand, shaping itself into a single sword.
Holding it in a reverse grip, Rinier stabbed the sword into the floor so that Anju could clearly see it.
The Treasure Sword of Dakh—one of the weapons Rinier most frequently mimicked and favored.
Realizing that this was also the very sword with which Rinier had nearly killed her before, Anju stared at it intently.
Feeling keenly the dense magic contained within a blade that did not seem like something hastily created.
"The original of this sword is a treasured blade passed down through the count's family that rules the Dakh territory in the northern nations. But over several generations, it's been stolen time and again by demons. One of the demon men I once served under also carried out a theft, blinded by this sword."
Rinier explained, but Anju still couldn't grasp her intent.
"Even when I was in the Demon King's army, plenty of my kind were drawn in by this replica. I used that to lure them out and hunt them more than once."
"Huh? Wh—what…?"
At the calmly revealed truth, Anju's mind finally failed to keep up.
Belonging to the Demon King's army was one thing—but Rinier's magic, capable of producing a replica indistinguishable enough to blind her own kind, and the fact that she used it to hunt them—none of it made sense to Anju.
"Just as humans are obsessed with coins and valuables, demons too have a nature that assigns value to objects and desires them. The original of this sword was apparently once wielded by a renowned demon, so they probably wanted to partake in its power."
Just as human royalty and nobility adorn themselves with lavish decorations to display their authority, the same desire exists among demons.
"Considering that nature, another attack could come at any time."
"Th-that can't be… then…!!"
Anju's heart was seized by anxiety at Rinier's words.
But the next sentence shattered that fear.
"That's precisely why my desire to hunt demons and your wish to protect this place are aligned."
Rinier had abundant experience using bait to hunt demons.
How reassuring her declaration appeared to Anju—at the very least, Rinier herself was unaware of it.
Having said her piece, Rinier turned her back on Anju and left toward the exit.
"...Ah, Lady Rinier—!!"
Snapping back to her senses, Anju hurriedly ran after her.
She arrived at the cliff from which the foremost rock could be seen—the place where Rinier always trained.
There, as always, Rinier stood, practicing archery in the shooting form Anju had long admired.
At some point, she had begun generating arrows of mimicked magic, nocking them to an equally mimicked white longbow, and firing them at the target.
"..."
Watching her from behind, Anju slowly recalled Rinier's earlier words.
That she had belonged to the Demon King's army.
That despite that, she had continued to hunt her own kind.
And the old story Anju had heard as a child—the tale of the demon at the apple orchard.
(If Lady Rinier is that demon from the apple orchard… then, Lady Rinier, you…)
To have belonged to the Demon King's army and yet continued hunting her own kind meant that Rinier had never had allies around her.
Anju didn't know why she continued to hunt her kin.
But if the reason lay in that old apple orchard tale—
Then she had been fighting alone, ever since her village burned, for over a hundred years.
Even so, Rinier had said it.
Even if their relationship was merely one of aligned interests, she had still said it—indirectly, but clearly.
—That she would protect this place together with her.
"Lady… Rinier…"
Her chest tightened.
She should have been happy, yet more than that, thinking of the lonely battle Rinier had been forced to endure, her heartbeat raced and tears would not stop.
—May this place become your second haven of peace.
That wish would never come true.
And thus, reincarnated Rinier—who intended to kill them in the end—had nevertheless unconsciously declared that she would protect them.