Grimgal of Ashes and Illusion - Volume 17 - Chapter 10

10. Falsehood and Truth

It wasn’t that he’d been underestimating how difficult this would be. Orion had been forced to retreat here twice. It wasn’t going to be simple. He’d been prepared for that.

When the spinies kept rushing into the antechamber, the members of the detached force had managed to handle it calmly, without panicking, at first. Renji, Tada, and Matsuyagi, the giant warrior from Orion, had all been incredible. With those three at the center, the detached force had pushed almost into the middle room. When the three of them started to look tired from smashing spinies, Shinohara, Tokimune, Ron, and Kuzaku, who had been acting in more of a support role up until then, stepped up to the front. These two groups took turns manning the front line, and the others, including Ranta, Yume, Haruhiro, Setora, Kikkawa, Mimorin, and the rest of Orion, filled any gaps that emerged. Merry, Kimura, and Chibi-chan were the healers. Anna-san was a priest too, but she was in charge of cheering for the group and providing encouragement.

Things went really well at first. It was going to be a slog, but there was no helping that. It was to be expected, somewhat. Haruhiro had braced himself for it, but by the time he had smashed three spinies with his warhammer, his arms were already numb. After he crushed his sixth, the strength started to leave his limbs. Haruhiro noticed he was sweating profusely. He retreated to where Merry and the others were. Ranta was there too, his back rising and falling with labored breaths.

Merry told him, “If it hurts anywhere, tell me. Like your shoulder or your elbow. I can fix that.” So he had her cast Cure on him. It wouldn’t do anything about the sweat, but the slight pain in his joints vanished.

“Time to get back into it, Ranta.”

“Oh, shut up, you trash.”

“Lose your spirit?”

“As if, you piece of shit. You turd. You steaming pile of feces.”

Ranta headed back to the front line spewing complaints about how this sort of manual labor was beneath him, it was a waste of his talent, and more. Haruhiro, on the other hand, probably didn’t mind simple, repetitive tasks. Even when he was standing next to Ranta, smashing up spinies, it wasn’t that bad, but his arms tired in no time. The sweat was unbearable. He was always worried about Kuzaku and Setora, and kept vaguely aware of how they were doing. It was tough to manage more than that, though. When he swapped into the front line, he couldn’t spare anyone else much more attention than thinking, Oh, they backed away. I guess they traded places with someone.

When he pulled back for the third time, he thought, I don’t want to go back again, and he meant it from the bottom of his heart.

“Haru? If it’s just for a little while, I could—” Merry started to say.

Haruhiro was able to charge off with a, “No, no, no! It’s fine, it’s fine!” so he wasn’t at his limit just yet. But it was hard to see when this might end. The spinies seemed limitless in number, coming out of the side-tunnels of the central room and the passages in the rear of the back room. If Renji and the others got serious, they could likely push into the next chamber. But they didn’t. It wasn’t that they couldn’t. It seemed more likely that they had decided it wouldn’t help. Advancing wouldn’t change the situation. There was nothing to do but smash spinies.

How long were they going to need to keep doing this?

Shinohara figured the Lich King was using some sort of power—from a relic, no doubt—to produce the enemies in the Graveyard. If that theory was correct, wouldn’t that include the spinies? The Lich King was using rocks or whatever to produce more and more, then sending them in to halt the group’s invasion. The issue was, could this continue indefinitely?

It was possible that the march of the spinies might go on for all eternity.

But no, it shouldn’t. Everything had its limit. Nothing could be infinite. No way. It couldn’t be.

Is this ever going to end?

That was the thing no one dared say. The moment they did, they were finished. Everyone must have felt it. If their commitment wavered, there would be no recovering.

“Tada, get back! I’m stepping in! Kikkawa, you take Mimorin’s place too!” Tokimune’s voice was as bright and cheerful as ever. “Time for a refresh! Get some water! It’ll make you feel better! Anyone up for a word chain game?! No takers, huh? Ha ha ha!”

It was terrifying, really. How could he be so cheery? At times it could be maddening, but it was still an incredible help. Renji, who came back fully refreshed each time he pulled back, was a major contributor too. No matter how pessimistic Haruhiro was, he could still think, It’ll be fine, Renji’s here. His morale fell and fell, but it never bottomed out. Haruhiro might be hopeless, but Renji was here, so in the end, it’d all work out somehow. Renji would do something.

Haruhiro was hopeless. He had been for a while. His legs wobbled so much he could barely stay on his feet. The warhammer was heavy in his arms. No, more like he couldn’t feel his arms. Wait, did he still have arms? He hadn’t lost them, had he? How was Haruhiro holding the warhammer? If anything, it felt like the warhammer was his arms. They vaguely hurt every time he forced himself to swing and hit a spiny. Was this pain? No, not quite. He felt a throbbing. But the rest of the time, his arms were numb. His lungs felt like they were going to burst. Maybe they already had, judging by his wheezing breaths. He was a wreck. An absolute wreck.

It amazed him, though. Whenever he went back to Merry, everyone there was crouching, sitting, or lying on the ground. And yet none of them stayed there forever. Not one. It might have taken some time, but they all got up, and headed back into the fray. Wow.

Since they hadn’t lost anyone yet, it felt like no one wanted to be the first to drop out. Haruhiro didn’t want to, at least. He’d feel pathetic. Being the first to drop out would be a disgrace. It was scary too, since it could spark a chain reaction.

If you can’t go on, you can’t go on. It is what it is. Doesn’t it take courage to drop out too? That thought was a constant temptation. Even if he collapsed, no one would blame him. No, someone would. Ranta absolutely would. He’d go on and on and on about it. Well, maybe he couldn’t afford to right now. But later? Oh, yeah. He’d tear into Haruhiro. If there was a later, that is.

Ranta was the one person he didn’t want complaining about him. Not that much came out of Ranta’s mouth other than complaints. When Haruhiro could justify his position, it was easy to think, Oh, look. There he goes, spouting off again. But when Ranta was right, it wasn’t so easy. Nothing was worse than having Ranta laying into him and not having anything he could say in return. Ranta was probably thinking, Like hell I’m gonna go down before Haruhiro too. It was the one thing neither of them wanted. Seriously, though. What was with this relationship?

If Haruhiro didn’t use everything, absolutely everything, which included his relationship with Ranta, to fuel himself, then the bonfire in his heart might burn out, and only ashes would remain until they too vanished.

Renji, and Tokimune, and Tada, and Shinohara might be different, but Haruhiro was just a normal guy, or close enough to it. He was just delaying the moment of his collapse as it approached little by little, wasn’t he?

“Ngh...!” Renji threw his warhammers. Both of them. They struck a spiny that came trudging into the back room. It lurched, but didn’t collapse.

“Ron!”

“On it!” Ron shouted, his voice hoarse, and he dashed off. He swung his massive meat cleaver, or more accurately he bodily slammed into the spinies along with it. “Yeah!” The spiny, which Ron and his meat cleaver had crushed into the floor, didn’t even attempt to rise.

Renji was standing. Was that out of stubbornness? He puffed his chest out, gazing up at the ceiling as if he were too proud to look at the floor.

No spinies were coming out of the passages on the sides of the central room, or the ones in the rear of the back room.

Tokimune sat down. He was wheezing, out of breath.

Tada, meanwhile, was on all fours, vomiting.

Kikkawa had been sitting on his haunches for a while. Mimorin was also crouching. And behind them, Haruhiro, Kuzaku, Ranta, Yume, Setora, the warriors of Orion, including Matsuyagi, as well as their paladin, hunter, and thieves were all sitting or kneeling too.

With the exception of the priests and mages, the only ones still standing were Renji and Shinohara, who was helping Ron to his feet.

It had been a close, close, close shave.

They might have been able to handle another two, three, maybe even five spinies, but if there had been ten, who knows? It could have gone badly. Well, no, the priests, especially Kimura and Merry, could fight, and there were Adachi and the two mages from Orion as well. The detached force had managed to completely conserve their magic.

Did that mean that while it felt like a close shave to Haruhiro, it wasn’t really?

“Whew... Still, though...” Haruhiro only had his left knee on the ground. The right one was raised, and he was managing to stay in a crouch.

He glanced sideways at Ranta, sitting on the ground, looking like he was going to collapse if he stopped propping himself up with both arms.

Nice, I won, he thought to himself.

As he did, possibly by pure coincidence, Ranta looked toward Haruhiro. His mask had shifted aside. It must have been too hard for him to breathe with it on.

“Ngh...!” Ranta grunted as he tried to rise to his feet. That made Haruhiro want to stand too, but it’d be stupid to strain himself competing with Ranta.

“Grr...! Hahh...!” Ranta finally got to his feet, then stuck his tongue out with a vulgar laugh.

“I win! Geh heh heh!”

“Fine, whatever. It is what it is.”

“A win for me is a loss for you, Parupiro! Be a man and recognize it!”

“I told you I was fine with it...”

“Well, say it more clearly! I want to hear you say, ‘Ranta-sama beat me!’”

“Why should I?”

“Because you lost! You’ve got to declare it! Quit your moping! This is your responsibility as a man, man!”

“You’re the one guy I don’t want telling me how I ought to act, but...hold on, why’re you so full of energy?”

“Because I’m awesome!”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine. I get it. I lose. I lost. Happy now?”

“Like hell I am. Act like more of a loser! Because you are one. You lost. Lick my feet like the pathetic loser you are! Ah! Yeah, no, forget that. If I let you lick my feet, they’ll get dirty. With your Parupiro germs!”

It looked like Ranta was regaining his vitality by running his mouth. Haruhiro, on the other hand, got more and more exhausted the longer he was forced to hear Ranta yammer on. Was Ranta sucking the life out of him? He had to assume so.

“Heh...” There was a familiar voice.

Looking over, a man with an eyepatch and ponytail was walking out of a passage in the rear of the back room.

“Huh?”

“Well fought, people...” Inui stopped in the middle of the central room, opening his right eye wide. “I, yes, I scouted out the burial chamber for you! While you were all stalling for time here, I did it!”

“That’s our Inui. Wouldn’t have expected anything less from you,” Tokimune said with a wink and a thumbs-up.

“Heh...” Inui turned to the side. Did he feel embarrassed by the compliment?

“When did he get there?” Shinohara blinked in surprise.

I know, right?

To be honest, Haruhiro had nearly forgotten Inui existed. If Inui never reappeared, that would have been that. It wouldn’t have even mattered.

“If you were gonna come back...” Kuzaku started, but trailed off.

Haruhiro could tell what he wanted to say. If Inui’d had time to scout, he could have, should have, helped with slaying the spinies. It was hard not to think so.

But they had managed without him, and things wouldn’t have changed drastically if he had stuck around. Even if Haruhiro didn’t agree that sneaking ahead to scout during the chaos was necessarily the right decision, well, maybe it wasn’t that bad.

Actually, according to Inui, he hadn’t initially gone down the passages in the rear of the back room. He had scouted down the side passages in the central room, then looped around to return through the back room’s passages. In other words, the passages were all connected, and formed a structure that could be called the second corridor.

At the midpoint of the second corridor was a set of stairs leading up to the upper level of a large hall. On the far side of the ground level in that hall there was a throne on a raised platform, which, according to Inui, had someone sitting on it. The hall had a great many lights hanging from the ceiling, mounted in the walls, and placed on the floors, so it was well illuminated. The figure on the throne had something like a crown on its head, wore a cloak studded with gold and silver, and carried a scepter. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the figure’s appearance, but it was clearly someone of high stature, or their remains. Inui said he hadn’t seen anything else moving in there.

The second floor of the hall was like a terrace sticking out from the wall, and there were stairs on either side of it leading down to the lower level. There was a landing about twenty steps down each set of stairs, then another twenty steps or so to the ground floor. Each step was about twenty centimeters. That put the distance to the landing at four meters, and then another four meters to the first floor from there, meaning the second floor was about eight meters up.

The hall itself was roughly thirty meters across, and more than fifty meters deep. The platform supporting the throne was about five meters high. There was no way they were going to be jumping up onto it. But according to Inui’s report, the platform had stairs on either side. If they were going to get up there, they would have to use those.

“Hmm...” Kimura murmured, glasses flashing, when Inui finished his report. “This is big, Shinohara-kun. This intel could even prove decisive.”

Shinohara held his chin as he nodded. “It seems like it. That must be the Lich King on the throne. We finally have the king who does not sleep, even in death, in our sights.”

“Heh... Thanks to my heroic feat!” Inui twisted his body around, raising and lowering his arms to strike some kind of pose.

“Weren’t you supposed to be the demon lord, or something, pal?” Ranta muttered, and Inui smiled faintly.

“A fallen hero. That is what the demon lord is...”

“So you’re going to fall now...” Haruhiro was sad he couldn’t resist quipping.

“Life is full of ups and downs!” Inui stood on his tiptoes, twisting his arms to form a figure eight. “Life is for living! And for dancing! I’ll live a life of fighting, and losing, and fighting again, and tasting sweet victory! The grand epic of a protagonist! The end of a hero! The terrifying awakening of a demon lord! Listen and behold this one of a kind saga!”

“Listen and behold...?” Haruhiro was about to say something, but stopped himself. Normally, you beheld with your eyes, not your ears, so “listen and behold” was a weird thing to say, but what good did pointing out every little mistake do him? Inui was weird in general. If he started talking normally, that’d actually be even scarier. Like the precursor to some incredible calamity.

The priests recast the support spells Protection and Assist on everyone in the platoon. Protection had the effect of raising the subjects’ vitality and natural capacity for healing. Simply put, it pepped everyone up. It might not get rid of their fatigue completely, but it helped to mitigate it.

Renji, Ron, Kuzaku, Yume, and the warriors from Orion all took a power nap. Even sleeping for a little while made a world of difference. Ranta bragged that when you got to his level, you could rest just fine while awake, and Haruhiro felt like there was no way he could sleep, so he sat around doing nothing instead.

Shinohara and Kimura spent the whole time talking. Haruhiro watched them, and it felt like Shinohara saw Kimura as different from all the others. Everyone else in Orion clearly looked up to him. Shinohara was polite and never condescending. But did he treat the other members of Orion as equals? No, not at all. This might have been an exaggeration, but Shinohara acted like his comrades in Orion were pets, and he was trying to love them all equally. He was probably a fair, kind, and good owner. But if one of his comrades picked a fight with him the way Ranta did to Haruhiro, maybe Shinohara wouldn’t tolerate that.

The members of Orion deferred to Shinohara. Their bond was tight. It probably made them a strong group.

But Haruhiro couldn’t place others under his command like that. Ranta, obviously, would be impossible. Kuzaku would follow someone he’d grown attached to anywhere. That made his loyalty dependent on the leader’s character, but it seemed unlikely he’d take to Shinohara. Merry hadn’t fit in with Orion’s vibe and had felt she had to leave. As for Yume, she was kind of a free spirit. Haruhiro wanted her to live as she pleased. Setora was anything but servile.

At a glance, Shinohara seemed like a forbearing and welcoming leader. But Kimura had said he tended to make decisions without consulting the others, and also that he acted logically.

Did the people in Orion know what Shinohara was really like? Haruhiro couldn’t say, but Kimura was still with him despite knowing.

Maybe that was why.

When Shinohara was talking to Kimura alone, he was different than usual. His face wasn’t so expressive. Yeah. He didn’t smile much. He might laugh a little, but he didn’t force himself to wear that smile. He would frown and shake his head a lot too. The way he talked to Kimura also felt more familiar, less guarded.

Kimura must have been more to Shinohara than just a comrade. They were closer than that. In other words, they were friends.

So, supposing there was some conspiracy, the question that arose was whether Kimura truly didn’t know anything about it.

Kimura had said he was concerned for Shinohara, so he wanted to learn the truth. Was he just pretending not to know, acting like an informant for Haruhiro while manipulating him to gather information? Kimura might have been like an extension of Shinohara himself.

When Haruhiro was thinking that, Kimura looked his way, glasses flashing. Then he turned back to Shinohara and started talking about something again.

“What was that about?”

Kimura was too close to Shinohara. If they could take advantage of that, then good, but it was dangerous to trust him; though, actually, the guy was such an enigma, there wasn’t much chance of Haruhiro ever trusting him in the first place.

Some time later, the nappers awoke, and Shinohara declared it was time for them to head out.

The team headed through the passages in the rear of the back room to enter the second corridor. The second corridor had lights hanging from the ceiling, so it was dimly lit. This was probably where the spinies had been lined up. Haruhiro could see alcoves where they would have fit on either side of the wall. How long was the second corridor in total? If it was a hundred meters, and the walls were packed with spinies, there would be a considerable number of them. It was amazing the group had managed to smash them all.

Haruhiro, Inui, and a thief from Orion named Tsuguta went up the stairs, which were five meters across, and entered the large hall.

As explained, the second level was essentially a terrace. Fifteen meters across, five meters deep. There was a low parapet around the edge, and golden railing shone dully on top of it.

Haruhiro, Inui, and Tsuguta hid in the shadow of the parapet. They stuck their heads over the edge of the railing just a little, surveying the first floor. It was more or less as Inui had described, but it felt different seeing it in person. It was hard to do the grandiose sight of it justice. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. If you could see it, you’d understand. But since you can’t, you won’t.

The being seated on the throne down on that platform above the first floor was the unmistakable ruler of this place. In life, he would have been the master of a kingdom. He had built a glittering palace in this land and no doubt sought to continue to rule it even in death. The lighting fixtures built into the walls and platform were ornate, and even if they were just gold plated, you would still need an immense amount of the stuff to make this many.

There was no doubt about it.

This was the throne room.

Haruhiro nodded to Tsuguta, who turned to head back.

Not long after, Tsuguta led Shinohara and the others up the stairs. Everyone stayed low, so as to remain hidden behind the parapet.

The Lich King remained motionless on his throne.

“We sure he isn’t just dead?” Ranta asked in a whisper. He might have been joking, but no one reacted.

“Heh...” Inui gave Setora a passionate glance with his uncovered right eye. “If both of us survive this ordeal, I want you to become my infernal bride.”

“I refuse,” Setora declined instantly.

Go figure.

“Heh!” Inui began scratching his head. “I can feel the waves of darkness inside me, flaring up from within the shadowy depths...”

Tokimune winked and slapped Inui on the back.

“Don’t sweat it. Someday, there’s bound to be a girl who gets your unique charm, Inui.”

I dunno about that, thought Haruhiro, but he kept it to himself. He also wished they’d save this nonsense for another time, but he knew better than to waste his breath telling the Tokkis that. Besides, if they were able to keep carrying on like normal right before the final battle, that was reassuring.

Haruhiro was feeling as tense as anyone would—or was he?

He wasn’t as excited as Ranta, who had shifted his mask aside and was licking his lips in anticipation.

“Okay...” Kuzaku nodded. It looked like he was trying to psyche himself up.

Yume, incredibly, looked like she was going to yawn, then covered her mouth to stop herself. Her eyes met Haruhiro’s, and she let out an embarrassed giggle.

Setora looked disinterested, and Merry seemed calm too.

Haruhiro was uneasy. How could he not be? There was no predicting how this fight would play out. Some injuries were going to be inevitable, but no matter what it took, he wanted to avoid losing any of his comrades.

He tried not to think about Shihoru, their comrade who had vanished.

Once he started thinking about her, it was hopeless. He couldn’t possibly keep a level head. Was Shihoru okay? Where was she? What was she doing? Stewing over it wasn’t going to do him any good.

But why else would they be participating in the operation to take Mount Grief? Why else would he have joined the detached force and be trying to break through the Graveyard at the risk of his comrades’ lives?

They weren’t here because they wanted to be, obviously. If Jin Mogis gave them an order, they couldn’t afford to refuse. There was no choice but to reluctantly obey. That was true, of course, but there was also a chance that they would get Shihoru back. Haruhiro could endure for as long as he was able to think that.

He had no real hints to go on. Shihoru’s whereabouts were unknown. That was why he had to endure and keep searching. Maybe it was more accurate to say he was searching for a way to search, some way to find a lead.

Enduring. And not giving up hope. That was all he could do. So for now, that was what he was going to do.

“Is it just him?” Renji asked in a low voice. “We’ll have to see what he does.”

“Yeah,” Shinohara nodded. He looked around at the members of the platoon. For a moment, he was expressionless. Like he was calmly selecting a human sacrifice. That might have been reading too much into it, but it was how he looked.

“We’ll go in first,” Renji said, completely calm. “We descend to the first floor, sprint across to the other end, then climb the stairs up to the platform and crush him. Should we split up?”

“The stairs seem reasonably wide, so I would rather not do anything reckless like dividing our strength,” Shinohara said.

“If it looks like we’re going to get caught in a pincer attack, then we’ll split up and handle it.”

“All right. Then please do whatever you think is best.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’ll take command of Orion, as well as Tokimune and Haruhiro’s parties.”

“We’re counting on you, Renji,” Tokimune said with a grin, and Renji shrugged a little.

“Yeah,” Haruhiro agreed.

Renji offered no response to the look Haruhiro gave him. He didn’t ignore it, no. He took it in, and then chose not to respond.

If Haruhiro wasn’t wrong, there was an unspoken you know what to do in there that transcended mere language. In somewhat dramatic terms, it was a confirmation of their secret pact.

Though Renji was brusque and felt like an unstoppable force of nature in battle, he probably had a sensitive side too. It could well be that Renji’s brusque image was something that he played up precisely because of just how caring and emotional he could be. If Haruhiro ever suggested that was the case, Renji would deny it and probably resent him for it.

Renji led the way with Ron, Chibi-chan, and Adachi following him toward the stairs on the left.

Haruhiro, Inui, Shinohara, and Tsuguta the thief peered over the railing, watching the first floor. Obviously, they were monitoring Team Renji too.

Renji began descending the stairs.

Immediately, the Lich King rose. Throughout the throne room, incredible whirlwinds, like sandstorms, brewed up. Dozens, at least. More than Haruhiro could count at a glance. All he could say was that there were a lot of them.

Renji and the others raced down the stairs. They hadn’t reached the landing yet.

Some of the sandstorms, maybe just under ten of them, coalesced, hardening into humanoid forms.

“Wait, isn’t that—?!” At some point, Ranta had moved up beside Haruhiro. He took his mask off and tried to stand up, but Haruhiro grabbed him by the arm and forced him back down.

“Stop that!”

“Look, moron! That’s Renji and his team!” Ranta wasn’t just saying something moronic, as was so typical for him. The humanoid sandstorms were near the bottom of the stairs Team Renji were trying to descend. There were eight of them. Renji, Ron, Chibi-chan, and Adachi. Two of each.

“Are those wraiths?!” Shinohara’s expression was tense.

The real Team Renji was almost at the landing when the two fake Team Renjis began climbing to meet them. No. The two fake Adachis stayed where they were. Were they planning to cast? They were drawing elemental sigils with their staves, trying to form spells.

“We’re going in too!” Shinohara gave the order.

Stay calm. Keep a level head. It’s one thing to aspire to do that, but when there’s a sudden change in the situation like this, the body acts before the head can keep up. Ranta took off at a run before Haruhiro could say anything.

“Let’s go!” Haruhiro dashed off too. Kuzaku, Yume, Merry, and Setora followed. They jostled with Orion and the Tokkis for position as they all rushed toward the stairs.

The double fake Adachis launched some kind of spell at the landing where Team Renji was. Kanon and Falz magic, huh? No matter how great Renji and his team were, they were in trouble if they took a solid hit from that.

That was a big if. The fake Adachis’ magic seemed to explode. Was that a misfire? Team Renji was covered by an invisible wall, and it seemed to have fended off the fake Adachis’ magic. That was how it looked. Had Adachi done something? He was holding his left arm up high. Blood. He was bleeding from his wrist.

“I can’t use Blood Spell that often!” Adachi shouted. Haruhiro had no idea what Blood Spell was, but it had apparently protected them from the fake Adachis’ spells. That had to be it.

“I’ll crush them!”

What was Renji planning to do? He didn’t go down the stairs. He was jumping off the landing.

“Haruhiro, you come too!”

“Me?!”

He wished Renji wouldn’t drag him into this. Besides, why did it have to be Haruhiro? If he ignored Renji after being called out by name, it’d look bad, and it might even be considered a bit of a stab in the back, so he couldn’t refuse.

I’ve gotta do it.

“Setora, you take it from here!” Haruhiro ordered.

“Got it!”

“Damn it all!” He was acting half out of desperation, pushing past the Tokkis and Orion as he raced down to the landing. Ron and Chibi-chan had already pushed forward to the next set of stairs, taking on a fake Renji and Ron. Was Adachi supporting them with magic? Renji was down on the first floor, going wild. There were still sandstorms all over the first floor, but there were also a bunch of fakes of all the volunteer soldiers here. It was ridiculous.

Go? Down there?

Me?

Uh, how about no?

“You chicken! I’ll go! Zeeeeeeee!”

What’s Z?

The masked dark knight bellowed the enigmatic Z as he raced past Haruhiro and jumped down from the landing.

“Personal skill...!” Before even landing, Ranta slashed one of the fake Orion warriors, then rolled as he hit the floor and got back up. “P-Personal skill...?!” he shouted again as he cut down a fake Orion paladin, then immediately sprang at a fake Kimura. “Personal skill, Stellar... Uh?!”

“...!”

The fake Kimura narrowly parried Ranta’s katana with its mace and buckler, but he still had it on the ropes. Haruhiro hated what a loud, obnoxious show-off Ranta could be. But it did stir him to action.

“If you can’t come up with a technique name, then just give up!” Haruhiro shouted, jumping from the landing himself. He wasn’t going to use the momentum of the fall to strike an enemy like Ranta had. He couldn’t. Instead he made sure he landed properly, blunting the impact, and used Stealth. His mind filled with the image of sinking into the floor.

He was a little quiet, a little slow, as if he were slightly separated from everything around him—and yet, he was here. Or maybe it was better to say he was there. His self was not inside him, but outside, perceiving the area as a whole. He heard sounds, felt the flow of things.

It wasn’t bad. He was able to concentrate.

Renji slashed one fake and took the shortest route to the next, instantly laying that one low too, and taking off to terminate the next. Renji could see it. Where the enemies were. In what order he should take them out. He knew it instinctively.

Compared to that, Ranta was far less efficient. He leaped right and left, then moved even further left, making it look like he would bound again, then instead charging in with an upward swing of his katana. It looked like a lot of effort. Horribly inefficient. But his unorthodox style bewildered enemies as he searched for other targets, figured them out, and prepared to act. In that sense, while he seemed to be doing a lot of meaningless things, not everything that appeared to be pointless actually was.

Haruhiro crept up on a fake Kikkawa that was trying to get behind Ranta, grappled with it and slit its throat.

It felt like...yeah, like sand. It was as if he were cutting sand.

The fake Kikkawa didn’t so much crumble as burst, turning to literal dust.

That sand-like powder began moving from where it landed.

Haruhiro looked in the direction it was heading and saw there was already a sandstorm whirling there. It was going to form another fake, wasn’t it?

Yeah, it absolutely was.

The fakes were different from the wraiths they’d fought in the chapel. They looked pretty human from a distance, closely resembling whoever they were a copy of, but up close, they were obvious phonies. The skin didn’t look alive, and the eyeballs hardly reflected any light. They lacked luster in general. The details of their construction were somewhat lacking too, with their faces looking flatter than the originals. There were hardly any wrinkles either.

Basically, these fakes were sand or mud dolls created by the Lich King’s magic. Their abilities were nothing next to the originals’. They seemed to be a match as far as physical strength and agility went, but they weren’t fast to react. It could be that the Lich King was controlling them all, and because of that he couldn’t micromanage them effectively.

Haruhiro took down a fake Adachi with Spider, hit a fake Tokimune with Backstab, then delayed a fake Ranta with Shatter before using Hitter, and finishing with a Backstab as he ran past. Fake or not, it felt good to be teaching Ranta a lesson, but he’d prefer to keep that a secret. For his part, Ranta was toying with a fake Haruhiro, a look of maniacal glee on his face, so they were even.

In addition to Renji, Haruhiro, and Ranta, more and more of their allies were piling down the stairs to the first floor. At one point, one of the fake mages managed to get off some Arve magic, but Adachi used his Blood Spell, or whatever it was called, to block it. Renji, Haruhiro, and even Ranta, to a degree, were making it a priority to take down the fake mages. That was the intent, at least, but Haruhiro noticed something.

He’d taken down fakes of Adachi and the two Orion mages. But Haruhiro had not touched a fake Mimorin.

They existed. Haruhiro had seen one, but Renji had been closer, so he’d let Renji take care of it.

Also, while he was fine with Rantas, Haruhiro hadn’t touched any of the fake Kuzakus, Merrys, Setoras, or Yumes.

Even though it was clear at a glance that these things were fakes, he still hesitated just a little.

In the chapel, Kimura had faced nearly identical wraiths of his fallen comrades. That must have been difficult in its own way, but these impostors were copies of people Haruhiro was working with in the present moment. Because he had incredible allies like Renji, he’d been able to think, Well, they’re just fakes, and shift gears into battle mode. But if not for that, fighting these opponents might have shaken everyone, and they could have ended up on the defensive instead. The margins here were razor thin. If the enemy had been able to make an early push, it would have been hard for the platoon to recover from it.

There was no way to be optimistic about the current situation either.

The whole team was heading for the stairs on the left side of the platform where the Lich King awaited them. Renji, Ranta, and Haruhiro led the way, and the others followed.

Renji, at the very front, was maybe fifteen meters from the stairs. Ranta and Haruhiro were hanging around behind him. The rear group was headed by Ron, Tokimune, Tada, and Kuzaku, as well as Shinohara and Matsuyagi of Orion.

If he had felt like it, Renji could probably have gone even farther ahead. But it would have left too large a gap between him and the rear group. Renji was taking out fakes as he waited for the rest to catch up.

With Renji leading the way, the detached force eliminated any fakes approaching them at an incredible speed, but the number of enemies wasn’t going down at all. Though they struck their copies down again and again, the fakes turned into sandstorms, and the sandstorms turned into fakes, which rushed toward the group all over again.

It went without saying, this was the work of the Lich King standing in front of the throne.

Was the Lich King expending some sort of magical power to create the fakes? If he was, then just like human mages, his reserves of power were likely not inexhaustible. He’d only be able to create fakes for so long.

But wasn’t it also possible that this was the effect of a relic, and endless? Even if it wasn’t endless, the Lich King’s reserves of magical power could very easily have been absolutely massive. If he could make fakes all day and all night, it was essentially inexhaustible.

The detached force had the upper hand for now, but, again, the margin was razor thin.

Renji was going absolutely wild and showed no sign of tiring, but he’d already worn himself down fighting the spinies. The fatigue might all hit him at once at some point. That also went for the others, including Haruhiro, who’d given their all fighting the spinies. Honestly, while Haruhiro was doing a good job of maintaining his focus, his body wasn’t moving so well.

A fake Yume was taking aim at Renji.

“Ah...!”

There was a moment’s hesitation, but Haruhiro closed in on the fake Yume from behind and tried to hit her with a Backstab, only for her to turn and loose her shot at him instead. Haruhiro managed to avoid it by jumping sideways, but the fake Yume shot again, and again. Oh, crap. It was all he could do to dodge them.

“Hee hee!” If Mimorin hadn’t cut the fake Yume in half with her longsword, one or two of those arrows might have hit him.

“Haruhiro! I love you!”

“Th-Thanks...”

I’m focusing well? Who am I kidding? I’m doing a terrible job, aren’t I, Mimorin?

But what was Mimorin doing here? Actually, it wasn’t just Mimorin. Ron, Tada, Tokimune, and Kikkawa too. Kuzaku was also nearby, as were Shinohara, Matsuyagi, and more. It was the rear group. They’d caught up.

“Renji!” Shinohara shouted. “Let’s rush in and focus on taking out the Lich King!”

“Vo-foh! Go-feh!” Kimura laughed. “Let’s wrap this one up quiiick!”

The warriors of the detached force used War Cry one after another. This wasn’t just a loud shout. It was a sound like no other, making enemies falter and rousing the user’s spirits.

“Grahhhhhhh...!” Renji roared and charged. It was like he was unleashing a well of power that he had been holding back all this time, storing it up for this moment. In the blink of an eye, Renji was on the stairs.

“Oh, for crying out...!” Ranta tried to keep up with him.

“Ha ha...!” Tokimune’s longsword flashed, and he raced forward with Tada, each overtaking the other repeatedly.

“Hoorahhhhh...!” Ron, Chibi-chan, and Adachi had gotten close to the stairs too at some point.

“Yahhhhahhhh...!” Orion’s giant warrior Matsuyagi was putting on a real display too. He easily mowed down fakes with his twin warhammers, steadily advancing. Shinohara, Kimura, and the members of Orion were pretty much all following Matsuyagi.

“Damn, he’s cool!” Kuzaku was a bit farther behind but was doing a good job of swinging his large katana around and drawing the enemies to him. There was a group with Kuzaku at its center, including Yume and Merry, Setora, Kikkawa and Inui, and Anna-san the cheerleader bringing up the rear, and supporting the platoon’s advance that way.

I’ll join up with Kuzaku and the others, Haruhiro thought for a moment, but he ended up following Mimorin to the stairs. The Lich King. They had to defeat the Lich King as soon as possible. If they didn’t, they’d run out of steam before long.

When Renji began climbing the stairs, Ranta, Ron, Tokimune, Tada, and finally Matsuyagi followed.

“Grahhhhhh...!”

Renji reduced the fakes crowding the stairs to sand and dust in short order. Even without the power of a relic, he could do that? Could humans get that strong? Yeah, no. They couldn’t. It was only because it was Renji that it was at all possible.

If Renji weren’t here... Just the thought alone was chilling. They wouldn’t even have made it to this throne room without Renji, would they? Shinohara had led Orion in multiple attempts to clear the Graveyard before now, and all of them had failed. Maybe he’d decided it might be possible because Renji was coming?

So long as Renji was around, it felt like they could do anything.

That wasn’t true, of course. Obviously. Renji had his limits too. He wasn’t immortal or indestructible. He was human, the same as Haruhiro or any of the others. But even knowing that, Haruhiro wanted to doubt it. Renji was just so completely different from everyone else. He couldn’t be evaluated with common sense. It was like he belonged to a different dimension.

Thinking back on it now, it seemed apparent that Renji had seriously pulled his punches during the fight with the spinies. He probably hadn’t had an easy time. They’d all been pretty exhausted, but for Renji, that was all it was. The repetitive manual labor might have left him with some pent up frustration. Now he was blowing off steam.

Renji reached the top of the stairs. The upper level was much less well-guarded. Actually, Renji was mowing down fakes like some kind of reaper.

The second to make it up there was Ron. Matsuyagi pushed Ranta, Tokimune, and Tada aside, leaping up onto the platform. Those three, along with Shinohara and Orion’s best fighters, all arrived in one clump, climbing up onto the platform one after another. Haruhiro and Mimorin followed.

“Delm, hel, en, giz, balk, zel, arve...!”

“Zeel, mare, gram, eld, nilug, io, sel...!”

Two of Orion’s mages drew elemental sigils and chanted. Adachi was doing the same.

“Jess, yeen, sark, viki, teo, meo, fram, dart, ul, dio, zeon...!”

That was a long incantation. It was a big spell. The Orion mages were using Arve and Kanon magic. Adachi was probably using Falz. All of them were targeting the Lich King, no doubt. The mages fired off their most powerful spells, which they had been able to save until now, in an attempt to finish him off fast.

“Goooo...!” Ranta screamed. Haruhiro didn’t say it out loud, but he felt the same way. His personality being what it was, he thought, It can’t work, right? They’d struggled a lot to get here. The battle to take Mount Grief was still just getting started, but this confrontation with the Lich King had to be the greatest challenge of the Graveyard. It would never end so easily. He didn’t want to feel disappointed, so he kept his defenses up. Was this a habit or his nature?

In all honesty, though, he hoped it would end quickly. Of course he did. That was obviously preferable.

That’s why when all of the fakes turned to sand and dust just before the mages cast their spells, he thought, No, please, just stop it, from the bottom of his heart. Enough of that. Not that the Lich King would grant Haruhiro’s wish.

Most likely, the Lich King had stopped manipulating the fakes and changed over to another power instead.

“It’s an Anti-Spell!” Adachi shouted. Haruhiro wasn’t a mage, and he didn’t have his old memories, so he didn’t really know what that meant, but it was presumably some kind of magic that blocked magic. Maybe it was the same sort of thing as Adachi’s Blood Spell, which had come from the Red Continent.

The mages’ spells might have started to trigger, but then they were erased.

The Lich King was wrapped in a transparent bluish dome. Was that what had deflected, or perhaps dispelled, the mages’ magic?

The king who did not sleep, even in death, wore clothes that looked like they were worth a fortune on their own, and an imposing, majestic crown. But he was dead. It was clear to see that he was no longer among the living. He was obviously deceased. He wore an impressive golden gauntlet on his right hand, so the only exposed skin on his body was his face and his left hand, which held his scepter. Could it even be called skin? At one time, it must have been full of life, coursing with blood. Now it was dried up, clinging to his bones. His face was not so different from a skull. The eye sockets were black pits. No more than holes.

Many long years must have passed since the time of his death.

Sure enough, he was standing, and moving. He manipulated great powers. Even though his body was lifeless, he was the master of the Graveyard.

The king who did not sleep, even in death.

The Lich King.

“Yahhhhh...!” Renji charged in with fury. His ominous greatsword shone with purple light.

“Aragarfald!” Ranta shouted the name of the relic. It wasn’t the greatsword. The relic was the armor Renji wore. It imbued his sword with a special power.

Magic didn’t work on the Lich King. He could deploy an Anti-Spell to block it. But if that was the case, all they had to do was close in and chop him up. It seemed like an idea anyone could have thought of, but Renji made the decision well before anyone else could. It was as if he’d already decided to do it the moment Adachi and the others’ magic proved ineffective. He might have even been getting ready to.

It was fifteen to twenty meters to the Lich King’s throne. In mere seconds, Renji would break through the Anti-Spell and bisect the Lich King. Haruhiro didn’t think, There’s nothing the Lich King can do now. Surely he’d do something, Haruhiro just couldn’t imagine what.

And the Lich King did, in fact, move, though only to raise his right hand, the one with the golden gauntlet. When he did, the bluish Anti-Spell vanished. But it was more than that. At the same time, the Lich King rapidly rose.

Well, not the Lich King, but the floor beneath his feet. No, that wasn’t the floor, it was sand, huh? It gathered at an incredible speed, lifting the Lich King up. He rose higher and higher, five meters or more. The Lich King stood atop a pedestal of sand.

“Ngh...!” Renji slashed the pedestal, but it was just a mass of granules. There was a flash of purple lightning, and the greatsword sent sand flying all over, but the hole quickly filled with more.

“Delm, hel, en, balk, zel, arve...!” Mimorin wasted no time before drawing elemental sigils and casting Blast.

For a brief moment, Haruhiro thought, That might work.

The Lich King had stopped making fakes when he put up the Anti-Spell. Then he had dropped the Anti-Spell to manifest a pedestal of sand. That meant he couldn’t do two things at once. He was limited to one major thing at a time. If that was true, then if he got up on the pedestal, he could avoid physical attacks but not prevent magical ones.

Haruhiro’s guess had to be right. The Lich King didn’t use Anti-Spell now that he had raised himself up. Mimorin’s Blast flew toward him, but missed. He’d dodged. The pedestal of sand was more than just a pedestal. It moved like the head of a dragon, carrying the Lich King with it. Did he plan to leave the platform? The sand dragon was lowering its head, bringing the Lich King down to the first floor.

“Zeel, mare, gram, fey, ruvy, quo, pai, silka, krai, es...!” Adachi was chanting. What spell was that?

“Whiteout!” Mimorin blurted out. Was that the name of the spell? It was probably Kanon magic. It affected the area near the Lich King as he was about to touch down on the first floor, and a fairly wide area around that. Everything in a radius dozens of meters wide, centered around the Lich King, was covered in white. Snow. It was a violent blizzard. Despite its distance from Haruhiro and the others up on the platform, they were still shivering from the cold.

“How do you like that?!” Ron shouted.

“He blocked it!” Adachi replied, spitting the words out angrily. “He used Anti-Spell at the last second!”

That meant that the Lich King was safe behind a magical Anti-Spell barrier in the middle of the raging blizzard.

“Okay, change of plans!” Tokimune flashed his pearly whites and headed for the first floor. Was the word disappointment not in his dictionary? He had incredible mental fortitude.

“Get down there!” Shinohara ordered. The platform was maybe five meters high, at most. While it wasn’t impossible to jump down, Haruhiro would have preferred not to.

“We’re going!” Renji had no intention of using the stairs. Haruhiro got that. It was way quicker not to. They wanted to get to the Lich King before Whiteout wore off. In Renji’s case, because he was using the purple lightning effect of Aragarfald, he had a time limit he needed to take into consideration too. It wasn’t so convenient that he could switch it on and off at a whim. He needed to end this while the purple lightning was still active. If he didn’t, he’d be rendered immobile for a while. At worst, it could cost him his life. He needed to hurry as much as he could.

That said, if Renji hadn’t shot a glance toward him, Haruhiro would have taken the stairs with Tokimune. Why’d he have to look? Haruhiro wondered.

Was that a “You’re not coming?”

Or more of a “You’re obviously coming, right?”

I wish you wouldn’t lump me in with you.

Unlike Renji, Haruhiro was normal. Just a regular, mediocre guy. That was a reality he’d have trouble changing. Haruhiro didn’t know what it was that Renji expected of him, but it seemed like there was something. Honestly, it was a nuisance.

I can’t do what I can’t do, man.

A lowly guy like Haruhiro couldn’t chase after Renji. So Haruhiro wanted to watch his exploits from a distance. Cheering for him like Anna-san. He didn’t remember the past, but he was proud to have enlisted at the same time as Renji. That was no lie. It was the truth.

So why? Why did Renji having high hopes for him make him want to hang his head? Haruhiro had trouble understanding it himself.

I mean, it’s impossible, you know? There’s no way I can do it. I can’t live up to your expectations.

But was it right for him to take the attitude, You’re in a completely different dimension, so please just forget us lower beings. Don’t make unreasonable requests like asking us to keep up with you, at this point?

If Haruhiro were in Renji’s position, he’d have been appalled. He couldn’t treat someone who gave off that vibe as an equal.

They weren’t equals, mind you. There wasn’t just a gap in their abilities, there was a gaping chasm.

It was blatantly apparent in their combat potential. But humans did more than just fight. Did he need to act subservient to someone because he couldn’t beat them in a fight? Could someone stronger than him not be an equal and a friend? That couldn’t be right.

Still, Haruhiro knew his place. For the sake of his comrades, he couldn’t afford to act recklessly and get himself badly hurt or even killed.

I can’t be that foolish. I won’t do what I can’t do, okay?

But, well, if it was just a matter of getting down from a five-meter-high platform without using the stairs, a thief like Haruhiro could manage it. Renji didn’t exactly dive off the platform himself. He hung from the edge, then dropped. Haruhiro did something similar. If he used the side of the platform for footholds, it wasn’t terribly hard. If he were wearing armor or carrying bulky weapons, maybe it would have been, but Haruhiro was fortunately unencumbered. Renji was loaded down with heavy equipment, but he wasn’t a normal person. Aragarfald’s purple electricity might have had something to do with that.

Renji dashed toward the area affected by Whiteout.

Haruhiro chased after him, glancing at the stairs to the platform as he went. Tokimune had already made it down. He saw Ranta, Shinohara, and Kimura too. And there were more following them.

There was a loud thud behind him, and he turned back in time to see Matsuyagi bracing his legs against the impact from landing on the ground. Had he jumped from the platform? Maybe Renji and Haruhiro had convinced him to do it. But was he okay? Well, he was running now, so at least his legs weren’t broken.

The effect of Whiteout was fading. It was no longer a raging blizzard that turned the whole area white. The snow was still violent, but Haruhiro could see the Lich King behind his Anti-Spell barrier.

Renji charged into the blizzard. He rested the greatsword that was arcing with purple electricity on his shoulder, ready to swing it down any time.

The Lich King was bound to lower the Anti-Spell. Would he rise on a pedestal to escape again? Ride on the head of a sand dragon to get farther away?

Haruhiro needed to see it for himself.

How would the Lich King, and how would Renji, act?

What could Haruhiro do?

As he’d expected, the Lich King’s Anti-Spell vanished. The blizzard had gotten a lot weaker.

Renji leapt. His ability to jump was not normal. It was like he was dropping from the sky. Renji attacked the Lich King, purple lightning arcing off of him as he did.

There would be no pedestal of sand. That seemed like a safe call. If the undead man went up high, he’d fall prey to Renji. Instead, he rose up, but only slightly. Sand. The sand was gathering. A sand dragon. Haruhiro’s body moved on its own. To the left.

Renji swung his blade down in a maelstrom of purple lightning, and it smashed the floor, kicking up sand and dust.

He’d missed.

The dragon head carried the Lich King to the left.

Haruhiro wasn’t so much lying in wait, as they arrived at the same time. The Lich King hadn’t expected Haruhiro to be there. Haruhiro was surprised to be there himself.

“Ah!”

He ran into me, Haruhiro thought. From Haruhiro’s perspective, it was like the Lich King had tackled him, and it would have been completely unsurprising if he were thrown through the air by the impact, but somehow he clung on, dagger out, his left arm wrapped around the Lich King’s head. The crown slipped off, and Haruhiro was nearly thrown, but despite the Lich King’s skeletal appearance, he still had hair. It was white, or gray, and pretty long. Haruhiro grabbed it with his left hand.

Holding his dagger with a backhand grip, he tried to slam it through the Lich King’s face.

He’d honestly almost managed it when the sand at the Lich King’s feet formed up into something. Well, not so much something as...

“Me...?!”

It was Haruhiro. Well, no, not Haruhiro himself, obviously. It just looked like him.

Once he was tussling with his own fake, he wasn’t able to hold on to the Lich King any longer. He got on top of the fake Haruhiro, then ended up under him, and then got back on top again. He finally managed to slit the fake Haruhiro’s throat and jumped off.

Renji was surrounded by multiple fakes, new ones forming even as he slashed and destroyed the ones around him. Matsuyagi, Shinohara, and Kimura, as well as Ron, Tokimune, and Tada were fighting a bunch of fakes not far from Haruhiro.

The Lich King. Where is he?

There.

The Lich King was closer than Haruhiro had thought, standing only six, seven meters away.

He’s just one person. Uh, can I call him a person? Eh, I guess he was human originally, so sure, why not?

The enemy could only use one power at a time. That was more or less certain at this point. He’d dispelled the dragon head to create fakes. While he was making fakes, he couldn’t do anything else.

It felt like the Lich King wasn’t watching Haruhiro. Well, since he didn’t have eyeballs, he wasn’t looking at anything, really. But his body and face weren’t turned toward Haruhiro.

Could this be my chance?

Couldn’t I get him now?

Maybe it would have been better if Haruhiro had moved before thinking, but who knows? He couldn’t say one way or the other.

The Lich King slammed the butt of his scepter against the floor and raised his right hand, the one wearing the golden gauntlet.

Something felt intensely wrong. That’s the only way to describe it.

Basically, it was instinct. Haruhiro dropped to the ground, suddenly feeling like he couldn’t breathe. Why did he hit the ground? He couldn’t explain it. But a shining golden globe had appeared in front of the Lich King’s outstretched hand, then split into three, and shot off.

“Demon Call, Zodie!” Sensing the danger, Ranta summoned his dread knight familiar, the demon Zodie.

Did Haruhiro see one of those golden bullets that had broken off of the globe whiz past over his head? Whether he was able to see it or not, he was certain that had he not been on the ground, it would have hit him.

“Whoa!” Ranta shouted. Haruhiro looked in time to see his party’s dread knight pathetically sprawled out on the ground. The demon he’d summoned was nowhere to be seen. Had it vanished? After blocking the golden bullet? Had it shielded Ranta?

“Wha—?!”

Based on his current position, Renji had jumped to the side. He must have reflexively dodged the bullet. But there was another person right behind him.

Orion’s giant warrior. Was that a hole in Matsuyagi’s flank? It was like a deep, black stain. Was that where the golden bullet had hit him?

Matsuyagi dropped the warhammers he held in both hands. He’d been running at the time. His body was tilted forward, leaning more and more. Matsuyagi fell over to the side.

“Whahhhh...?!”

Whose voice was that? For a moment, Haruhiro didn’t know. There was no way Shinohara’s voice could crack like that. Surprisingly, it had. Shinohara was flat on his backside. That was strange too. It looked like someone had shoved him away.

The only possible conclusion was that Shinohara had been pushed away by Kimura, who had been right next to him.

Why had Kimura done that?

Why was Kimura tumbling toward Shinohara?

The leader of Orion caught him. “You... You’re dead. Kimura, why...?”

“De—” Haruhiro was speechless.

He’s dead.

Kimura.

Matsuyagi too.

Haruhiro and Renji had dodged in the nick of time, while Ranta had survived by sacrificing his demon. It had killed a giant like Matsuyagi in a single blow, as if he were nothing. If that magic hit, it was guaranteed to end you on the spot. Call it an instant-death spell.

It could have just as easily been Haruhiro, or Renji, or Ranta, or Shinohara instead. Any one of them could have died.

If the Lich King could use that instant-death spell again, even more might fall.

It could be Haruhiro’s turn next. He might lose one of his comrades.

Haruhiro was still on the ground, staring at the Lich King. He couldn’t move.

He was terrified.

His whole body cowered. But even beyond that, his brain refused to function.

Obviously, he couldn’t stay like this, so Haruhiro got up immediately. But the situation was not good. Very not good. It was extremely bad. His field of vision narrowed, and all he could see was the Lich King. He couldn’t keep track of his comrades or the other members of the force. It was scary. He couldn’t help but be afraid. If the Lich King used that instant-death spell, he absolutely had to avoid it. No, his comrades came before himself. Okay, sure, but what did that mean? Kimura had covered Shinohara. If Haruhiro were in a position to do so, he’d do the same. He definitely would. If it was possible, at least. The only one anywhere near him was Ranta. His comrades. He had to figure out where his comrades were. But he couldn’t look away from the Lich King.

“Rahhhhhh...!”

Renji.

Oh, it’s Renji.

Wow. That’s Renji for you.

Recovering before anyone else, Renji swung at the Lich King, electricity arcing as he did, but the sand dragon head carried the Lich King away. The purple energy chased after him, but the sand dragon head was a little faster.

It was pulling farther and farther away from Renji.

The Lich King was getting more distant from the platform with the throne. There were no members of the team where he was going.

“Delm, hel, en, balk, zel, arve...!” Mimorin targeted the Lich King with two, then three Blasts. The sand dragon head slithered out of the way each time, but that was a reminder. They had magic on their side too.

“Now! We’re just getting started, people!” Tokimune shouted. He sounded cheerful, and brave. There wasn’t a person out there who wouldn’t be encouraged by hearing that voice.

Haruhiro took off running. He was scared. Damn scared. So scared he couldn’t see what was going on around him very well. But being frightened wouldn’t get him anywhere. The Lich King was going to use that instant-death spell when he could. They had to take him down. Defeat him. Kill the Lich King. That meant Haruhiro didn’t have the option to stand by. If nothing else, he could act as a target for the spell. If he got hit by it and died, that would at least mean someone else didn’t.

“Delm, hel, en, giz, balk, zel, arve...!”

“Zeel, mare, gram, eld, nilug, io, sel...!”

“Jess, yeen, sark, viki, teo, meo, fram, dart, ul, dio, zeon...!”

The Orion mages and Adachi cast Arve, Kanon, and Falz magic. None of them were nearly so gentle as Mimorin’s Blast.

The Lich King returned his dragon head to sand, and put up an Anti-Spell to block them.

Meanwhile, Renji was closing in on him.

“Greahhhhhh...!”

Purple lightning violently assaulted the Lich King.

Maybe this is going to work.

The Lich King dropped his Anti-Spell. Whatever he meant to do next, Renji’s greatsword would get him first. Renji wouldn’t need a second strike. He’d finish it in one blow.

And yet, that sort of optimistic assumption had a way of clouding people’s eyes, making them misjudge things. Renji definitely closed the gap, but not quite enough.

The Lich King slammed the butt of his scepter on the floor, turning his gauntleted hand toward Renji. The golden globe had already appeared.

It was close, but Renji’s greatsword wouldn’t reach the Lich King. The instant-death spell would fire first.

Unlike Haruhiro, who had fallen into the trap of optimistic thinking, Renji knew that. That’s why he stopped his swing and turned around.

“Renji...!” someone shouted.

The golden globe split into three. That instant-death spell, the terrifying bullets that would bring on a death that could not be resisted, shot forth.

“Out of the way!” a roar echoed through the chamber.

Someone charged toward the Lich King, taking Renji’s place.

“Shinohara-san...?!” Haruhiro had been following Renji with his eyes. That was why he hadn’t noticed Shinohara. They’d just lost Kimura. Shinohara had seemed overwhelmed. But rather than be laid low by his grief, he’d been spurred to revenge.

But, man, that’s dangerous.

The Lich King’s instant-death spell had already fired.

Shinohara ran straight at the golden bullet.

At this rate, wouldn’t all three of them hit him straight on? In his hands Shinohara didn’t hold a sword, but a dully gleaming shield. He was going to use it to defend himself and then tackle the undead lord. But could a shield block the instant-death spell? Wasn’t that impossible?

“Whoooooa!” Ranta shouted. The members of Orion, Tokimune, Tada, and Kikkawa were shouting Shinohara’s name. Merry said something too, and Haruhiro shouted despite himself.

Shinohara’s shield shone white, as if it were incredibly hot.

A relic.

It was a relic?

“Urgh...!” The shield clobbered the Lich King, stunning him. Haruhiro already knew that the short sword with the diagonal tip wasn’t normal. Shinohara used it to stab the Lich King through the throat, and he let out a voiceless cry. It was like he had expelled all the air from his lungs at once, and it just happened to produce a sound.

With a twist and a jerk of that strange sword, the Lich King’s head flew high, high into the air. That seemed unnecessary. He didn’t have to do it, but Shinohara probably wouldn’t be satisfied otherwise.

“Nghhhah...!” Shinohara followed up by chopping off the Lich King’s left arm and sending his right flying. Then he bisected the undead, and kicked the lower half out from under him.

The severed head of the Lich King rolled to Shinohara’s feet.

He stomped and crushed it.

That was finally the end.

The Lich King’s form crumbled away to nothing more than sand and dust. All that remained were his clothes, scepter, and golden gauntlet.

“Ahh...” Shinohara gazed up to the heavens. His shoulders rose and fell, his breathing awfully shallow. He might have struggled to stay on his feet without support.

And yet the man who had been his friend was no more.

Shinohara let go of his sword and shield, dropping to his knees. His head hung, and his arms touched the ground. His hands angrily tore through the Lich King’s dust.

“Arrghhhhhhhh...!”

They’d won. The Lich King was finally finished. They’d done it.

But Haruhiro couldn’t possibly say that. He could only remain silent. What was he supposed to say to Shinohara? No matter what words he used, he was sure they would be the wrong ones.

The members of Orion gathered around the remains of Kimura and Matsuyagi. They all seemed concerned for Shinohara, but none of them tried to approach him.

Renji was the only one to walk over to him, thrusting his greatsword into the floor and sitting down. It wasn’t emitting purple electricity anymore. The effect of Aragarfald had already faded. Renji wouldn’t be moving for a while.

“A priest taking the blow for someone else...?” Shinohara mumbled. His voice was low and hoarse. “What were you thinking? That was stupid... My shield could have blocked it...”

“Was that guaranteed?” Renji asked. His breath was ragged. Despite that, he spoke quietly. Had using Aragarfald made it hard for him to talk? Or was he showing respect for the dead?

Shinohara couldn’t answer immediately. It took him some time before he shook his head.

“It was a bit of a gamble. I’ve never been hit by magic like that before.”

“Then Kimura wasn’t an idiot. There was a risk his clan leader might die instantly. If I were in his place, I’d have done the same.”

“You would?”

“Yeah.”

“The same thing as Kimura... You’d have done that, Renji?”

“He was your friend, right?”

There was a pause before the answer came. “Yeah.”

“It’s not a matter of logic.”

“No... I guess not.” Shinohara let out a long, deep sigh.

Then he picked up the golden gauntlet. The one that had been on the Lich King’s right hand.

The Lich King had turned to dust and vanished. All that remained were his clothing and shoes, his scepter, and the golden gauntlet that Shinohara now held. No, the crown that had fallen from his head while Haruhiro was clinging to him was lying on the ground nearby too.

Relics.

Oh, yeah.

What was it that had kept the Lich King from sleeping, even in death? Considering how his body had crumbled, it probably wasn’t some special power that the king had possessed in life but rather the effect of a relic. In that case, his possessions were the most likely culprits.

Haruhiro crept over and quietly picked up the crown.

It was old and dirty, but decorated with many jewels, large and small. It must have been worth a fortune. But was it a relic? Honestly, Haruhiro had no idea.

Shinohara lifted up the golden gauntlet, held it close to his face, turned it around slowly as if appraising it.

“What do you plan to do with that?” Renji asked. “It’s a relic. Gave the dead king power, kept him from resting.”

“You can tell?” Shinohara asked with a smile.

It was that smile.

His usual affable smile, warm and so very natural, but out of place here, making it clearly unnatural.

“Here’s what I think,” he continued. “In all things, it’s possible to have too much. I don’t know what kind of authority the king who was buried in the Graveyard once wielded. But in the end, he was only human. This much power was too much for any one person to have. Especially one who wasn’t even alive. Not even the living need this sort of power. It’s harmful.” Shinohara held the golden gauntlet in his left hand, his sword in his right. “If I’m fully honest, there’s some resentment involved here. I’m angry. I never thought Kimura would do something like that. It was completely unexpected. I couldn’t react. So I may be taking it out on these things. Renji. If you think I’m trying to do the wrong thing, then please stop me.”

Renji opened his mouth and was about to say something. That’s when Shinohara did it.

He lobbed the golden gauntlet into the air, and his sword flashed.

“Whuh...?!” Ranta cried.

The golden gauntlet fell to the floor in two pieces.

“Nnnrraaaah!” Shinohara hid none of his rage, stomping on the severed gauntlet. Repeatedly. Over and over again. There was no need to go that far, right? It was impossible not to think that, watching him. Did Shinohara have to completely obliterate it before he’d be satisfied? His breathing was ragged. He whaled on the gauntlet and the floor with his sword, and there was no end in sight. No one could stop him.

There was no way to stop him.

“Shit...! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit...!”

Perhaps Shinohara had misjudged his strength, because something caused him to trip and fall. Even once he did, he gripped his sword and was about to swing, but his hand stopped.

“Shit...!”

He was down on all fours again, his sword thrown away haphazardly. The shreds of the golden gauntlet were mixed with the sand and dust. It was like he was trying to bury his face in there. Or was he crying? Maybe he didn’t want anyone to see his tears.

Renji’s eyes were closed.

Haruhiro looked away from Shinohara too. What about the crown? he thought, though it hardly seemed like a good time for that. He’d grabbed it, thinking, It might be a relic, but if it wasn’t, it was just a massively valuable accessory. Depending on how you looked at it, you could say Haruhiro was trying to abscond with some of the treasure. He wouldn’t want to be misunderstood like that. But at the same time, he didn’t want to put it back down. Seriously, what was he supposed to do here?

When he looked back, Shinohara was already standing.

“We’ll have to cremate the two of them here,” Shinohara said, looking around at the members of the platoon. “After that, we’ll take a break before moving on. The operation isn’t over yet. We have to finish this, so their noble sacrifice isn’t in vain.”

Obviously, he wasn’t smiling as he said that. He didn’t seem tense either. If anything, it was an expressionless face. His tone was disinterested, but he might have been suppressing his emotions.

Haruhiro had been suspicious of Shinohara all this time. That was why it seemed off to him. That outburst hadn’t been like Shinohara. Now he’d changed his tune all too fast. But maybe that was just how Shinohara was? He was just acting like he’d changed gears, but maybe he hadn’t?

What if all of it was an act?

Maybe Haruhiro was the abnormal one for thinking that way.

At the very least, Kimura had cared greatly for Shinohara, to the point that he hadn’t hesitated to give his life for him. He’d been a weirdo, but also a good, loyal friend.

Kimura had cared so much for his friend, cared for him from the depths of his heart, that he might have sided with Haruhiro.

Shinohara wasn’t the only one to suffer from this death. Haruhiro and the others had lost Kimura too.