Svin Glascheit had always been “abnormal”.
It was not just because he was the youngest person to obtain the rank of Pride in the current El-Melloi classroom. Just that was hardly anything. He found it delightful to be able to learn all sorts of magecraft. Though most of the techniques the former Lord El-Melloi had used were now lost, there were always things to learn.
It was just that every time his bestial magecraft advanced, Svin changed with it.
Yes.
He had always been changing.
Bestial magecraft was the sort of magecraft that changed the user. It wasn’t just the magic circuits that were altered, but the things that connected them as well, like nerves, muscles, or bones. What modern medicine could not transplant could also be affected, like skin, or even parts of the brain.
Svin didn’t remember what it felt like back then anymore.
Was he scared? Or was he happy? Though he did remember crying until his eyes went puffy, as much as he tried, he could not recall what he was feeling back then. His sense of self had already become blurred after it had been mixed around. He could not tell whether those tears signified happiness or sadness. “Svin Glascheit” became simply a title.
Yes, that was what it was, a title.
It was just a tag used to differentiate between people, Svin thought calmly.
Besides that, there was no other meaning to it. Though most mages accepted that they would be eventually consumed by the vectors (TN: I am confused by that. But it says that in the original text. So interpret it however you like) of their ancestors, it was especially intense in Svin’s case.
What he felt was more simple(alternatively, pure or primitive).
More unstoppable.
Because when he reached his goal, he would no longer be human.
He didn’t find it a burden. He didn’t even have the time to think about all this. Ever since they had discovered that his nervous system did not collapse after being introduced to bestial magecraft, many experiments had been performed onto him. Sometimes it was peeling the skin of his back to test his regenerative abilities, sometimes it was sticking his arm into a vat of boiling oil. And now, Svin didn’t even know whether he felt pain when that happened. If he had been completely beast-ified then, he might have even derived pleasure from it.
Beasts that were deprived of reason were probably pretty far from mages.
After he came to the Clock Tower, he found some form of sanctuary with Lord El-Melloi II, probably because he(Lord El-Melloi II) could correctly understand him. Under Lord El-Melloi II, Svin, who was not a regular mage but simply a container of his family’s magecraft, was properly protected.
Perhaps it was for that reason that he hated Flat, who had joined after him.
That guy’s scent had told him that they were both irregulars from the very start. He must also have known that Flat was another uncooperative, overdone(?), and unqualified piece of work. Because they had no defects, they could not understand others (did not need others). They had both accepted this truth.
…For that reason.
For that reason, Gray’s scent was special to Svin.
The sort of mildly indifferent scent that didn’t belong to a person or a mage and was created by someone from a different realm made the young man feel at ease.
It might even just be pity.
Or perhaps it could be some sort of putrid feeling, like narcissism.
Even so, it was the first time he had cared about a person like this. He had been attracted to that calming scent and had chased after it unknowingly countless times.
Coming to this place was like he was being clasped within her hands.
“…Almost like being enveloped within Gray-tan.”
“Hmm? What about Gray?”
Hearing Svin mutter to himself, the person in front of him turned around.
They were in the middle of a lush forest.
It surrounded the entire village, and was dim even during the day. After they had separated with Lord El-Melloi II, the two of them had went toward the forest in the north. Snowflakes were still fluttering through the foliage overhead.
Flat exhaled a breath of hot air onto his cold fingers, and continued without a bit of ill will.
“Don’t you think the Black Madonna statue looks a bit like Gray?”
“Nobody is like Gray-tan in this world. Just like how Sir is uniquely great(?), Gray-tan is the embodiment of absolute beauty.”
“Ah, I understand what Le Chein-kun’s trying to say! Like Japanese moe or tea ceremonies! Oh, also, where did we say we were going to start investigating from?”
“The swamp. I’ve already told you,” Svin said, not knowing how to react to what he just said. They planned on directly attacking the root of the matter.
“Clearly, that’s the root of all the abnormalities in this village, for safety reasons, Sir and Gray-tan shouldn’t break the taboos, but the same doesn’t apply to us.”
“Ah, but this village is really so interesting! Everything is all over the place!” Flat said with a wide smile. Though, Svin couldn’t help but agree with him.
“There are just too may odd things in this village,” Svin concluded.
“First of all, for a village, there isn’t enough farmland for it to function. If they aren’t self-sufficient, at leas there should be a corporation nearby to provide them with food, but if so, that would mean that the village had value. It doesn’t seem that the village is rich in terms of material wealth, so there’s a higher likelihood that there’s some sort of subject of worship here.”
“You mean Blackmore Graveyard or the Black Madonna? Uh, it’s not impossible, but if that was the case, this village should be a bit more famous, shouldn’t it?”
“That’s just a possibility. If it was Sir instead, he would have probably made a more well-rounded analysis— No, he would have already reached some truth that I have no hope of understanding.”
Sven narrowed his eyes slightly.
Flat nodded as if he thought so as well. Though Svin wasn’t sure exactly how much he understood, his thought process was clearer than if he was alone.
“I heard that Gray was being worshipped by them. Is that related? Ah, did she not tell us about this because it bothers her? She’s never willing to talk about the stuff around here, don’t you think so as well?”
His words left Svin speechless.
His classmate sometimes had a surprisingly sharp intuition. It was always this way regarding magecraft, but sometimes it would work on interpersonal connections as well. Even though he could not understand matters between people, he could reach the root of their natures. How should people like that be evaluated?
The young man’s shoulders drooped.
“…Right. On the way here, she’s had this bitter yet thin sent, like the smell of something that was torn in half.”
“Le Chien-kun always really cares about the people around him. Why else would he be so cautious with me!”
It was the feeling as if he had seen through everything again.
It made him want to make a scene (like fight or something?), but it probably wouldn’t work against the person who was in front of him.
“How many times have I told you, don’t call me Le Chien(the dog)!”
After he ground out those words through his gritted teeth, he sniffed the air.
“There’s a weird smell,” he whispered.
The footsteps did not stop.
The young man continued at the same pace he had before. Neither the uneven floor nor the branches in front of him could impede his path. It was the same for Flat.
“Though every place has its own scent, this place smells the same as the high magical energy concentration of the Clock Tower. However, it’s very twisted. It feels very thick, yet could disappear in an instant if I smelled it. Almost like a pure black bedsheet that has just been washed.”
“Svin-kun explains the same way as usual— Super easy to understand! Like the how-to guides of famous FPS’s,” said Flat, clapping his hands.
It was the sort of sentence that would probably get criticized (alternatively, ridiculed) by most people, but for Flat, it was completely normal. The two of them continued carving their way through the thicket when Svin suddenly pointed in a direction with his chin.
“Over there. You know what I mean?”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
Flat nodded and looked as if he was the most confident person in the world. He narrowed his eyes and stretched out his palm so that it was a couple of centimeters away from the ground, and then swiped his hand across.
“There’s a Bounded Field. Whoa, it’s pretty old too. You might not even be able to find one this old in the Clock Tower.”
“You should be the one to undo it.”
“Alright, alright. Then, Game Select!”
Flat twirled his finger. A complicated pattern appeared beneath his fingertip, but Svin knew that it was just for dramatic effect. Flat’s magecraft was almost solely based on what he was feeling at the time. Usually, this sort of magecraft wouldn’t be able to exist, and the reason that he could make it work was what made Flat Escardos special (alternatively, unusual).
It was also very rare in the Clock Tower, much like Svin’s bestial magecraft.
He raised his hand as the scene around them changed.
A path through the forest appeared, as if it had been there all along.
“It’s the sort of Bounded Field that we know about. Alrighty, Game Over. Let’s go.”
Flat walked into the forest, humming as if he was going to a picnic.
Svin followed behind him and spoke.
“Now I understand why there’s a rule about going into the swamp,” he muttered.
“Not because they were afraid that they would get in. Because [they couldn’t get to the swamp at all.]”
“Ah, it would be problematic if they found out that they couldn’t get in at all. Is that why they set the rule? If so, that would explain it!”
This could be called a whydunnit of sorts.
The reason why the rule was set.
Clearly, there was a secret in this swamp. To protect the secret, they even went as far as to set up a mysterious rule. If so, what secret was hiding there? And why did all the villagers disappear?
Suddenly, Flat stopped in his tracks.
“Oh, here we go again.”
“It’s heavily guarded, huh. Flat, according to this smell, the one closest to us is a lure, right?”
“Yep. It’s a mechanism that triggers an automatic attack if you touch it, Black Ice! It’s preparing to deal with us now that we’ve gotten rid of the Bounded Field.”
Flat moved his fingers again, undoing the magecraft efficiently. However, this time he did not manage it in one go.
“—Achoo!”
Because of a sneeze, his fingers loosened.
Suddenly, circuits of light flashed between the trees, and two arrows shot out from the void of a Bounded Field that had just expanded. It was a curse so refined that even a wild beast would have undoubtedly been killed by it.
“Pallida mors.” In an instant, just after Svin finished his incantation, a translucent tentacle-like thing shot out of his back and struck the arrows from the air.
“Oh, is that a new trick?”
“To put it simply, it’s the image of a tail. You’re not the only one who was inspired to improve from the fight with that Grand mage.”
“Ahaha, Miss Touko’s flying kick really is amazing!”
“You were the only one who got kicked, okay!”
Flat completely ignored Svin’s protest and continued to undo the Bounded Field.
If these two were the only ones who came, perhaps all the doors would have swung open.
However.
This time, it was too late. From the moment they reached the village, a gaping hole had already started to appear. Even if they were geniuses, it would not let them pass easily.
The bloodthirsty intent had gained a physical form.
“…It’s in there. Was that just a warning,” Svin muttered.
Flat seemed to have noticed as well.
When they headed towards the swamp, they had purposefully went around Blackmore Graveyard from the west. The reason they avoided the graveyard was because they wanted to break the rules one by one, but they didn’t know if it was the correct decision or not.
The foliage shuddered. From the shadows of the forest, there emerged a silhouette that was roughly the size of the two young men.
“Hmm? Is this the automatic defense mechanism?”
Flat frowned.
“—!?”
And Svin just stood there, deathly still.
The shadow walked over without hesitation.
“Le Chien-kun?”
Svin was too surprised to react to that nickname.
It was a person.
Her elfin body was concealed by a hooded cape.
[And in her familiar, slender hands, there was a giant scythe.]
*
My mentor and I climbed up the hill. Though the villagers were all gone, the windmill at the south of the village was still spinning as if nothing had happened.
It creaked sonorously in the bitter wind, as if it was a giant looking down on some ruins. We reached the hut at the base of the windmill.
Standing there, I suddenly realized something.
“…You had us split up just so you could go there, right?”
“I just thought that was the best course of action,” my mentor said with a surprised expression.
“Though, if it did happen, I do want to prevent them from meeting. There’s no predicting what sort of reaction would occur.”
His explanation was not a lie.
The only reason why Svin accepted what he said was because it made sense.
But of course that was not the only reason.
“I didn’t think that Sir would be overprotective. But since you already brought them here, you must be really conflicted.”
“Shut it, I know.”
Hearing his bitter voice, I could not help but smile.
“I forgive you. …After all, you did bring me along.”
“If it wasn’t for you, I would die.”
“Alright, as long as you’re aware.”
When did our interactions become like this, I wonder.
To be honest, I was still so scared I wanted to scream. Everyone from my hometown had disappeared into thin air. It was not something I could easily accept. Therefore, I was very glad that I had the task of protecting my mentor to distract me from it.
I quietly adjusted my breathing.
And then I pushed open the door to the windmill hut carefully.
The interior was just like Reines had described it, with odd crystalline implements glowing in the dim room. The crystals that used light to communicate were more like mysterious creatures hidden within a cave than machines.
But the reason that made me and my mentor freeze in our tracks stood deeper in the room.
“Look at who’s come. I didn’t think that the grave keeper girl would return of her own accord.”
A steady voice welcomed us.
I heard my mentor swallow.
Of course, he must have already anticipated this. Yet, anticipation was not reality. It would still be surprising when an imagined situation actually happened.
“…Actually, I didn’t think that you would still be here. I just wanted to look for some clues.”
“Do you find it surprising, Lord,” he said, laughing.
The faint smell of red wine surrounded him.
For someone currently in a poor village in the countryside, both the wine and the cape made from an indescribable fabric seemed out of place.
“Ah, is that the case. The villagers are all gone, after all. It would be natural to find it strange that I am still here.”
The director of the Atlas Institute— Zepia Eltnam Atlasia nodded as he stood in front of us.
-End of Part 4 of Chapter 3 of Book 6-
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Originally Posted by Arashi_Leonhart
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