Chapter 119 – Unexpected (4)
Objects moved through Telekinesis.
To seize control of them, one had to possess a significant difference in magic power manipulation.
Toreld was not a Mage.
He had merely reproduced magic through the effects of magical items. But even so, having the initiative stolen from him this helplessly was abnormal.
Unless the opponent was a Mage specialized in telekinetic series magic.
'And yet, elemental magic, you say?'
Toreld quickly hurled himself to the side.
No matter how much gear he wore imbued with magic resistance, if he were struck directly by a high-level element, it could easily be a straight ticket to the underworld.
Lightning brushed past where he had been standing.
In that instant, his consciousness was stolen by Verden.
The Owl, who had already taken position atop the wall, did not miss it. Enhancing his eyesight, he predicted Toreld's movements and loosed the bowstring.
───Crunch!
"Ugh!?"
A golden shaft of light pierced through Toreld's calf.
The arrow, formed of Damas steel, easily penetrated his metal greaves. From afar, the Owl waved at Toreld.
"Y-You damned Owl bastard!"
At Toreld, a sword flew.
The very weapon he had cherished until moments ago turned against its own master. Toreld immediately invoked flight and fled into the air, but there was already a guest waiting for him there.
"Wa—…!"
Thud!
Oculus's shockwave sent Toreld crashing down.
Had he been a skilled Mage, he would have swiftly regained his balance, but Toreld relied only on the power of his necklace. Naturally, his flying ability was abysmal.
He struck the crumbling wall and fell to the ground.
Blood trickled down from Toreld's brow as he lifted his head. An arrow followed close behind. Rolling across the ground, he narrowly avoided it—only for something to fall right before his eyes.
"…A magic stone?"
Binding Magic Circle, Detain.
Chains wrought of magic power entangled Toreld.
He clenched his teeth and strained with all his might. But no matter how much he struggled, the bindings would not budge—this was not something brute strength could undo.
Seeing Verden and the Owl approaching, Toreld gave a hollow laugh.
"Haha, you bastards really came prepared, didn't you? Even something like this. Where on earth did you get such a magic circle? Did you buy it from the magic tower or something?"
The circle had been inscribed directly by Verden, here and now.
The Owl glanced sidelong at Verden, then drew a dagger and approached Toreld. Since arrows were too crude for the task, he planned to knock him unconscious with the hilt.
Toreld thought to himself.
'As I thought, they don't intend to kill me.'
If that were their goal, they wouldn't have bothered with such a magic circle.
Moreover, the Owl's arrows had persistently targeted his arms and legs. In other words, their intent was to disable him and then capture him alive.
'Why? Could it be, they're tied to some noble?'
Having left the underworld, Toreld had taken on sordid jobs at the behest of the kingdom's nobles.
Naturally, he often clashed beneath the surface with other nobles. And since he knew many of their secrets, he always had to be wary of being silenced.
Even without knowing the specifics, he was certain that once captured, things would not end well.
But Toreld was not worried in the slightest.
Hidden in his sleeve was an accessory, its name—the Bracelet of Magic Nullification.
If he used it, chains of this level wrought from magic power could be easily unraveled. After that, he would cut them down with the Lizard Sword at his waist and make his escape.
'There's a guest in the underground prison, but well, they can fend for themselves.'
He had already delivered the Mage.
Suppressing a smirk, Toreld waited for the Owl to draw near. Feigning surrender, he let all strength drain from his body, luring them into carelessness.
The moment the Owl stepped within range, he was ready to strike.
But then—
Crack!
"Huh?"
Blood trickled down, his eyes widening in shock.
His head dropped limply from the unexpected impact.
The Owl turned around.
"…What was that?"
"This way is safer."
Carelessness.
That word did not exist in Verden's dictionary.
***
The Owl examined Toreld's wounds.
Blood flowed from a swelling on his forehead, but otherwise he was fine. Judging by the lack of fractures, there seemed to be no damage to the brain either.
'His magic power manipulation is on a high level.'
It had been precision control of force.
Secretly impressed, the Owl quickly stripped Toreld of his equipment.
Soon only a thin garment remained, his body bound tightly with tough rope, shackles fastened at his wrists and ankles—ensuring not even the faintest chance of escape.
Work completed perfectly, the Owl rolled his shoulders.
"With this, Toreld is secured. But his subordinates are still…."
"They're taken care of."
On his way up to the surface, he had encountered Toreld's men who were pursuing the Owl inside the fortress.
They had charged in with weapons, and so he swept them away with lightning-series magic. With mana detection, he confirmed that no more threats remained within the fortress.
The Owl nodded.
"Then there are no more variables."
Now, once Toreld's custody was handed over to Calia, the request would be complete. Of course, they would first divide up Toreld's equipment.
At that moment, Verden spoke.
"Before that, there's something we must do."
"Something to do?"
The underground prison.
Verden revealed the Mage held there to the Owl.
"This face… I've seen it on the wanted posters. He looks in a dreadful state. Why is this man here?"
"Well, perhaps Count Plishr gave the orders."
Toreld had deep ties with Count Plishr's villa.
So, if the Count were chasing the wanted Mage with even the 3rd Prince's authority behind him, enforcing a flight ban decree, it made sense. And then, capturing him only to torture him to the brink of death.
On the surface, the reasoning was sound.
But Verden added more information.
"The one torturing him was a black mage."
"What?"
Verden lifted the Mage's body.
A frame rotting from curses was revealed. Truthfully, it seemed to be the work of another black mage, but that hardly mattered under the current circumstances.
What was important was that the black mage and the Mage under the flight ban were actually connected. A natural piece of information to hand over to Calia.
"It's definitely curse magic. But I've never heard of Count Plishr having ties with black mages… where is that black mage now?"
Verden pointed to the side.
There lay a pool of blood.
"…Not even a corpse left. He was a more ruthless Mage than expected."
"He wasn't killed, he took his own life. And enough talk, for now the Mage's survival comes first."
Perhaps he carried precious information.
So persuaded, the Owl examined the Mage's condition closely. He possessed some measure of medical knowledge.
Signs of infection, inflammation, high fever, and curses.
Soon, the Owl gave his conclusion.
"If we mishandle this, he'll die immediately. Any first aid would backfire. At most, he has two days. Within that time, we must reach Rines to find a high-ranking priest. And along the way, we'll need a priest to keep him alive."
"There was a church in the village we stopped at earlier, so we can look there."
The two carefully carried the Mage up to the surface.
At the fortress stables, they found the horses and carriage that Toreld had been using.
Verden loaded Toreld, his equipment, and the Mage into the carriage and sat beside them, keeping watch in case of trouble.
The Owl climbed onto the driver's seat.
He immediately snapped the reins and drove the carriage toward the nearby village.
***
"Haa, on a cold day, there's nothing better than a warm cup of tea."
A priest of the small village sat outside the church, wrapped in a blanket, enjoying his rest.
When he relaxed, his body shivered, but the warmth of the tea in his hands and in his belly warmed even his soul.
Enduring the cold to seek warmth.
Contradictory, yet it felt better than anything else. As if he had become one with nature itself. A smile crept across the priest's face without him realizing it.
"Peaceful, so peaceful."
The world was chaotic.
Magical beasts, demi-humans, abnormal species—dangers lurked everywhere. Even as the priest drank his tea, somewhere, someone was dying. And dying again.
But such misfortune was beyond his power to prevent.
Things beyond a priest's reach. Even the old scriptures said so: not everyone could be happy.
If it were possible, then surely the God of Light, Luas, would have made all people equal.
Sadness, pain, dissatisfaction, satisfaction, happiness—such emotions would not have been created at all. Humanity would be no different from dolls, all the same.
But would that be right?
A life without guilt despite sin, unable to realize even love, simply fading away with time.
The scriptures said again.
The world was the place where humans shed their filth. Each carried different stains, and so each life was different.
Where, then, did such stains come from?
They were sins humans were born with. As natural as the concept that light exists because of darkness.
In short, life was the process of cleansing that stain.
And here was where the path diverged. Those who failed to cleanse themselves, tainted by evil and corrupted, would not be saved. But those who purified themselves would go to the side of the God of Light, Luas.
Thus, life itself was a trial given by God.
And the standards were twofold.
First, to oneself, second, to Luas. Only by being proud before oneself and acknowledged by God could one surpass the trial and go to His side.
That was the teaching of the scriptures.
In that sense, the priest was faithful.
It was not right to run to the battlefield and heal anyone indiscriminately. Even this small village would have its urgent patients, and there would always be lost sheep to guide.
Healing and leading them—that was the life the priest had chosen.
The priest had confidence.
No matter how small his flock, he believed he was as devoted a follower of the God of Light as any.
"…Hm?"
Then, a heavy rumbling reached from afar.
Listening carefully, it was the sound of hooves. Rare in such a small village, and urgent.
Soon, a carriage drew up before the church.
From the driver's seat, a man wearing a green hunter's hat and half his face masked dismounted, approaching the priest in an instant.
He asked.
"Are you a priest?"
"Y-Yes, I am…"
"How many priests are there in this village?"
"Including myself, five in total… but why do you ask…?"
The Owl scanned the priest from head to toe.
A suitably aged face. Eyes wary of strangers, yet upright.
"There's a gravely ill patient. Can you treat him?"
At the word 'patient', the priest immediately rose to his feet.
"I mustn't boast, but in this village, I am the most skilled."
"That's convenient."
The Owl hoisted the priest up.
"W-What are you doing!"
"The road is urgent. I'll make a donation later, so I ask you to accompany us."
"Accompany? Wait, explain—ugh!"
Before he knew it, the Owl had stuffed him into the carriage.
It immediately departed, racing down the road once more. By the time the priest turned back, the village had already vanished into the distance.
With a dazed look, he muttered.
"…Kidnapping?"
The priest had been kidnapped.