[307] Master of the Incarnation (5)
Shirone, lips slick with blood, turned to Ekkashi without bothering to wipe them.
"What are you? A rat and you dare step in?"
"Bosun is the person I respect most. You'd do well to shut your mouth."
"Then you'll die too. Bosun's one of the people I hate most in the world."
True to a battle mage's training, Ekkashi didn't take the bait. He produced a cudgel about a hand's length from under his robe and said in a cold voice.
"Mana Spear — Priz."
When he spread his palm, the cudgel didn't fall but spun in place. As if centrifugal force had drawn it out, the core extended from both ends until it became a spear taller than he was.
Ekkashi gripped the spear with both hands and swung. A cold wind washed over Shirone.
He finished his flashy spear form, leveled the weapon, and where the blade stopped there was a sharp crack as ice shards rained down.
Ekkashi specialized in freezing. He was a textbook battle mage who had focused on magic spear techniques.
Especially the magic armament Priz was a coveted, high-end weapon for any frost mage. It had a base mana amplification of 128 percent, and on top of that granted an additional 146 percent amplification specifically for freezing magic.
On the blade itself — the mana-freezing point — there was a special amplification option: a staggering 280 percent boost.
If Ekkashi channeled freezing magic through Priz's edge, his total mana amplification would reach 554 percent.
"For something made by humans, that's impressive," Shirone thought, watching the ice fall continually around Priz's blade.
Freezing the air itself was something only an authority in frost magic like Shiina could do. Even with a magic armament, Ekkashi's combat power couldn't be underestimated.
"Blizzard Blade."
Ekkashi murmured coldly and closed the distance with a blink.
Priz sliced the space so fast the air along the blade's path froze. With a crack, a long rope-like strip of ice formed and shattered into fragments.
"It's almost shameful to use this on an amateur, but—"
Ekkashi thrust the spear at the shortest range.
When Shirone activated his berserk state, Priz's blade pierced through the rampage and a shockwave detonated.
Shirone and Ekkashi recoiled in unison. Both snapped their upper bodies forward and charged again.
A single mistake in this extreme close-quarters fight could be fatal.
Seeing Ekkashi closing, Shirone slammed his Photon Cannon into the floor. The ground trembled from the force, but Ekkashi was already airborne.
Floating in midair, he grabbed the butt of Priz with one hand and swung as he spun.
A ring-shaped ice tube formed along the spear's trajectory. At one point a spot was stained red.
Shirone, bent low, took a thin slice across his back; frozen blood tore through flesh and spattered out.
"Ughhh!"
Shirone kicked off the floor and got out of Ekkashi's attack radius. He couldn't hold out long and collapsed to his knees.
Priz's danger was that even a minor wound could turn lethal. Pain flared like his back was on fire, and his consciousness blurred.
Ekkashi planted the spear upright and watched his prey.
"Your movements are decent. But you're still inexperienced. Be content to be fertilizer for my greatest legend."
Just as Shirone's burning eyes rose to retort, something rolled to his feet.
A Fresh Truffle.
The dessert that had been served at his parents' meal. Sweet chocolate concealing a lethal dose of poison.
Shirone turned with a hollow face. Bosun, who'd rolled the chocolate with his foot, stood smirking.
"How about it? Want a taste now? It's delicious."
"...I've changed my mind."
Shirone's features twisted into something demonic.
"Die. All of you, die."
Dozens of laser beams shot out from Shirone's body.
There was no need to aim; they swept indiscriminately, and sparks erupted wherever they cut the walls. The grand hall shook.
The nobles panicked.
They had assumed Bosun's faction would take the fall no matter what; only when Shirone began an indiscriminate slaughter did they realize this place was not safe.
"Damn it! What are you all doing? Kill him, now!"
Personal guards charged at Shirone. Dozens of swords were drawn and rushed him, and Bosun's men unleashed concentrated attacks with their specialties.
Hunched over, Shirone triggered his berserk.
A pulse sounded through the Unit of Infinity, and a pure form of energy filled the space so that even the veil's motion couldn't be seen.
The floor beneath Shirone crumbled like brittle pastry and collapsed into a deep hemispherical pit. The wind thrown off by the veil shoved people back to the walls.
But those gathered here were no pushovers. The first strike had failed, but they reformed quickly and charged again.
Leading them was Ekkashi with Priz.
The blade seized the air and froze like a blizzard spreading across Shirone's back. Shirone answered with the Photon Cannon, but Ekkashi's attack arced wide and instantly covered Shirone's blind spot.
'This is the end.'
As Ekkashi swung Priz, a red flash flared before his eyes.
"Kugh!"
A fine laser grazed his nose as he leaned back.
He lost his balance and slammed his back to the floor, staring at Priz in disbelief. The blade had been sliced away; the cut edge had turned into a searing molten red that flowed down.
'Damn, what kind of magic is that?'
Light that cuts metal.
How much high-output control did that require?
The Photon Cannon, with its mass reinforced, felt absurdly heavy; the energy-enhanced laser was chillingly sharp.
Watching the scene, the guards finally understood they'd misjudged things from the start.
From the beginning, Shirone had treated everyone here as the enemy. In a hall full of top nobles, allied combat power would necessarily be limited. It was the classic pattern of guerrilla warfare.
A cautious guard, having pieced that together, asked tentatively, "Commander, shouldn't we activate the mana control devices…?"
"What are you asking that for, you idiot! Run and activate them now!"
Shirone watched the guard sprint away with indifference.
There wasn't much time left anyway. Half of his consciousness was already in the afterlife. He couldn't tell if his legs were still moving or if his limbs had already been torn apart and he was hallucinating.
'I'll kill them all…'
Only murderous intent and rage remained.
If he could kill everyone here, it wouldn't matter if he died now. If he could calm the rage that felt like his guts being ripped out, nothing beyond that mattered.
"Kuh!"
Shirone, frozen in the center of the grand hall, doubled over and spat blood.
Even the adamantine shell's durability had reached its limit. The process of mental collapse was filthier than anything else.
Immortal Function, in theory, draws infinite mental strength, but the human body has limits. This was the end.
When Shirone stopped moving, everyone seemed to freeze on cue. In the hush, bits of stone fell from the ceiling.
"Is it over? Is it finished?"
Those who had been fighting Shirone wore haunted expressions, as if trapped in a nightmare. Their eyes were hollow and their faces slick with sweat.
"Kill him! What are you waiting for! Kill him now!"
The recovered swordsmen readjusted and rushed Shirone. Dozens of blades aimed at every wobbling part of him.
Shirone waited calmly for the end. When he realized it had come, he whispered softly.
"Hailo."
There was a pop and an explosion of light as a ring of radiance formed.
A halo, angelic and complete above his head, took shape without even following any obvious formation process. The stunned swordsmen dropped their blades and clutched their heads.
The nobles weren't shocked by the halo's shape, but they were paralyzed in a different way.
Having seen the power that had obliterated the Colosseum earlier that day, it didn't feel real. Then the truth sank in.
If Ataraxia were cast here, the palace would vanish without a trace. The true end.
Ataraxia's accumulation speed was more than ten times faster than the demonstration at the Colosseum. A super-mana amplification array that could instantaneously complete a concept radiated prismatic light and awaited the finale.
No noble attempted to flee.
They might be militarily useless, but they'd climbed to their positions by their wits. No one here was stupid enough to misread reality.
No matter how fast they ran, none could outrun a Photon Cannon fired by Shirone. If even one person crossed the threshold, Kazra would end that moment.
"Shirone…"
Amy covered her mouth and sobbed.
Shirone's faltering figure was unbearable to watch. His veins had burst and blood streamed down; even his dark pupils were blood-red like pools.
At the terminus of his life, Shirone actually cried. Hot, bloody tears poured down his cheeks like a child's wail.
He pushed out words through a locked throat.
"You all… tormented me first."
Amy sank to her knees, unable to look.
"You tried to kill me. You tried to kill my mother and father, my friends—even though I hadn't done anything!"
No one answered Shirone's cries. Outwardly they wore expressions of contrition, but inside each person was feverishly calculating how to escape.
Bosun's mind in particular turned faster than anyone else's.
They had underestimated Shirone. No — that wasn't quite right. They had simply judged him by the facts they knew. If anger alone could raise a person's level, the world would be full of archmages. What on earth had happened to him?
'Even if reinforcements arrive now, it's too late. Where did we go wrong? Did we really lose? No. There's no way a kingdom could be destroyed by one person. No. It must not be happening.'
Bosun stepped forward cautiously. When Shirone glared at him with bloodshot eyes, he stopped immediately.
Shirone was mad and holding a bomb of mutual destruction. Negotiation was the only way to survive.
"All right, I get it. Let's talk. We apologize for—what we did to you. We'll compensate you however you want. So just take down the ring of light and—"
"Kneel."
Shirone's voice was hoarse.
"Kneel. All of you kneel. Don't move. There's one thing I must hear before this ends."
Bosun blinked, then without hesitation dropped to his knees. The fate of the kingdom was at stake; this was no time for pride.
"There. Satisfied now?"
Shirone glared at the nobles behind Bosun.
Bosun turned and signaled, and one by one they began to kneel.
Even Amy and Rena sank to their knees.
Shirone had seized the initiative with a do-or-die strategy. If he could create the appearance of having allies, someone would inevitably try to exploit any weakness.
But Orkampf and Eliza thought differently.
Shirone had crushed the Teraze faction. He would be the proud son of the kingdom and lead Kazra into the future.
Eliza, overcome with emotion, approached Shirone.
"My child, you saved the kingdom. How proud I am… come to me, my son. How proud your mother—"
A Photon Cannon shot straight for Eliza's head.
A kneeling royal guard sprang up like a beast and threw himself over her. The heavy mass slammed into the wall and carved a clean hemispherical gouge. If a person had taken that hit squarely, their head would have been blown off.
"Shi… Shirone…"
Eliza, white as a sheet, trembled. The afterimage of the Photon Cannon still burned on her retinas.