Enkrid held Shinar under his left arm, while his right hand gripped the dragonkin's nape.
To a stranger, it would look as if he were about to snap the man's neck with a crack. And considering he had the strength to make it true, it looked all the more convincing.
"If you're going to kill him, do it quick."
Rem threw the line as a joke when he saw it.
"At least it's a small mercy the other things have stopped."
Audin strode up and spoke as well.
Just as he said, the rain of fire thinned and cut off, and no more aberrations appeared. No—what had appeared collapsed, its body sloughing apart as it fell. Spears, rods, nets, and the like woven of flame also ceased.
What remained was only a lump of fire stretched like molten glass, drawn down from the fire-cloud to the ground.
"If we cut it now?"
Ragna asked out of nowhere. With his hand on Sunrise's grip, he looked fully ready to slash the thing the moment he was allowed.
What?
Obviously, he meant that fire-cord stretching down.
Can fire be cut at all?
For Ragna, such a question was unnecessary. If told to, he would find a way to cut it.
He was like a living sword. That was the impression Enkrid received.
"She'll die."
Ragna didn't ask who. To him, the Salamander or the dragonkin hanging limp and unconscious meant nothing.
Esther knew that, which was why she cut it short. The one who would die was the fairy.
Enkrid watched the fire-cord stretching far off. Was it his imagination, or did he see green, like sprouting grass, flickering inside it?
"What do we do?"
Enkrid didn't know the spell-world and couldn't gauge Shinar's state. This was beyond the common sense he knew. So he asked.
It was something he had learned and realized long ago. When was it? Snow had been falling in heavy flakes, and he had been on the road to pound at the Gilpin Guild's door.
"If the captain can't do it, then give the order."
That was what Ragna, the occasional genius swordsman who pierced straight to the core, had said.
Jaxon had led him there, but the final words were Ragna's. If you can't, then order someone else to. Enkrid had done just that. His question, Esther answered:
"If it goes wrong, we can approach with spirit form, but for now—"
"For now?"
"We wait."
Esther was wise. She believed Shinar wouldn't have stepped forward without thought.
"Was the dragonkin butting in a variable?"
You couldn't harm an opponent physically with spirit form alone. And Shinar's spirit would not easily be shaken.
She knew well, having been close to her. Shinar's spirit was upright and solid.
This fairy's mental world was as extraordinary as any magician with a spell-world.
That was partly because she was a fairy, and partly a trait of Shinar herself.
Which was why they knew what to do now. Sometimes, you had to know when to wait.
Enkrid nodded.
The blazing fire heated the air, baked the earth until it sizzled, even formed something like streams of lava ahead. Stones melted and fused together. It was no environment for idle sightseeing.
Not that they had the luxury of merely watching anyway.
A lump of flame, streaked with black soot, rolled from the fire-cloud's cord and took shape on the ground.
And this one was different from the aberrations so far.
"Murderous intent. Malice."
Enkrid sensed the emotions radiating from the aberration. As though it had wrapped itself in every negative feeling like a weapon.
It had six legs, two tails, and its head was nothing but twisted flame—no eyes, no nose, no mouth.
"The pressure…"
It was stronger than many a monster that styled itself a colony leader. It could well be taken as a beast straight from the Demonic Realm.
Boom!
It kicked off the ground, gouging it out, sending dirt and flame skyward in a fountain.
"Mine!"
Rem charged forward in a rush, his axe already whirling overhead.
"What is it, a fire-dog or something?"
He shouted as he barreled ahead, without hesitation.
But that lump of flame twined with malice wasn't the only one. More dropped out of the fire-cord behind it, like molten glass dripping, birthing further aberrations.
And they differed in another way too. Each rose with sharper outlines, malice clear in them, their forms more defined.
The next form was human. It had two arms, two legs, and bore a long staff-like sword. Though it was made of flame, it flexed and bent unnaturally.
A scene that could not exist without a spell's power.
"Mine."
Ragna stepped forward at it. And at the others that rose behind, he moved one by one in turn.
"Keep watching."
And Enkrid too stepped out. He laid the fairy and dragonkin down and ran forward. The blue light of Dawn revealed its keenness in full against its foe.
Jaxon stood idly between the two unconscious bodies.
***
Shinar felt her spirit soar in an instant. Her mind heightened, shooting skyward. Soon the fire-clouds seemed within reach of her hand, and the earth fell away.
Her spirit brushed against something and reacted.
From that something burst tangled emotions and wills. Would you be able to understand the meaning if you sat in a cramped room with more than ten people all screaming at once?
This was no different from such a clamor.
Shinar calmly picked out each cry and parsed its meaning.
—I hate it.
She snatched fragments of feeling and understood.
—I hate this.
What?
—This place.
What?
—Everything I've done here.
It was all tangled into that single will of hate.
Shinar's spirit rose higher still. The moment she felt herself float away, she saw her body. Then her spirit flew, leaping beyond time and space.
More precisely, her fairy's sharp senses began peering into the memories the Salamander allowed her.
Shinar steadied her spirit.
Whose memories were these? The spirit beast's.
The environment didn't appear. What her senses perceived was only scorched, blackened sand.
As she tumbled through that sand, a great hole opened, and from it came a voice.
"This way."
The Salamander, curious, was drawn to the call. The hand and voice that beckoned held nothing but goodwill.
The spirit beast knew no trickery. As it approached the hole, a black hand reached out and seized its forepaw.
"Got you."
The opponent seized a part of him and yanked it close. He spewed flame in resistance, yet again fell for a handful of tricks. It was subjugation by a fraudulent contract.
Shinar could see how the spirit beast had been dragged here.
They burned everything to summon him.
Animals, people—everything was burned. Sacrifices. The Demon Sanctuary Church claimed an oracle from the god it believed in and moved. Those who made a vocation of spells served as the bridge.
"By deceiving all things."
Who was the actor behind it?
In Shinar's senses, something like a black shadow appeared. A being layered in garments woven of a black veil, its interior unseen.
"A demon."
A denizen of the Demonic Realm slapped a false contract on an otherworldly spirit beast and dragged it into this land.
The Demon Sanctuary Church caught in the middle had merely taken their place as sacrifices.
—I hate it.
The Salamander's will roused her spirit. Its pain, too, seeped into her chest.
The air here was torment. For it, this place was like rolling in a world where poison filled every direction.
Which was why steadying its mind was hard, why it was controlled by a demon of the Demonic Realm, why it had no choice but to entrust its self to the sorcerer who erected the bridge.
Had it not been dragged over—had it remained in its tranquil world—this would not have happened.
The spirit beast had been torn from its world and imprisoned here. For it, this place was more agonizing than any prison that held humans.
Shinar peered deeper into the spirit beast's feelings and felt them.
"Was it chance?"
Or inevitability?
Shinar judged that the number of beings who could converse with a spirit beast to this extent was limited.
"I'm one of them."
A fairy representing the city called Kirheis; among her kin, the most gifted at handling fairy energy; a fairy who had also formed a close relationship with demons.
What other fairy like that existed besides herself?
And if not her, who here could "assimilate," remain as part of the Salamander, and peer within it? Then why make such an impulsive choice?
The Salamander could have simply been suppressed and lulled to sleep.
Yet she had accepted risk, assimilated, read the Salamander's memories, and received its emotions.
As for the reason—
"I don't know."
Perhaps it was akin to Enkrid's heart, always declaring he would guard her back, or perhaps because she remembered how she herself had ever been tormented by demons.
Whatever the reason, a being like a spirit beast was not unfamiliar to a fairy.
There were Woodguards, Wing Fairies, and Dryas.
Dryas drink only dew; Woodguards live by drawing nutrients from the earth.
They are bodies formed of energy itself. That proves that an otherworldly being intervened in the lineage of the fairy race.
So the source of this fire-mass seeming similar was no other reason.
Not tree and grass, but flame as the source.
Just as Enkrid would pity a child, so did Shinar.
Memory and feeling merged and surged at once. Shinar gathered them up and spoke.
"Depart. You base and witless thing."
Here, conversation was based on will, so she thrust such will at the opponent. Naturally, the parasite ignored her.
He ignored her, drew up the corners of his mouth in a smile, and approached the Salamander.
Then, right by its ear, he whispered and urged:
To scatter hatred as he pleased, to pour out what he had as it was.
"You."
Another will slipped in between. A mass that shed a gentle golden light rose and turned into a blond youth.
The dragonkin Temares.
"You impeded my duty."
The dragonkin spoke in an almost recited tone.
What is duty to a dragonkin? The reason that constitutes life. Thus it is sacred, something that must be kept. Sensing the being that impeded that duty was why he was here now.
Dragonkin are ever bored and rarely feel emotion. So there was no case of him growing angry because someone had impeded him.
But, because they are bored, they react to everything that arises when they perform their duty.
Put very simply, a dragonkin is a magnate rich in the currency called time.
So as not to drop life amid ennui, they react keenly to anything related to duty.
Which is why hindering what a dragonkin is doing is truly wrong.
Only, the parasite of heat had little experience dealing with dragonkin and didn't know that.
Besides, his origin was not even the Demonic Realm to begin with.
He recognized the existence of dragonkin, but paid it little mind.
Temares, unruffled as ever, observed the opponent.
A dragonkin has no tremor of emotion, so he fixes precise guidelines and acts by them.
"I'll grant you the chance to explain a proper reason. Speak."
As a spirit form, a dragonkin has no special tricks. He merely asked. The parasite, bearing the main body's will, retorted:
Even if you're a dragonkin, what can you do alone? Your deeds are laughable.
"What should I say?"
"The reason."
"And if I explain it, will you even grasp it?"
The demon, in a demon's way, responded. Instead of excitement, he showed arrogance.
"You all burn to death here. That is all."
At that, the dragonkin recognized the opponent anew.
"An impediment to duty."
A dragonkin's ennui is like an immense fortune with no direction. He decided to spend and pour out that wealth.
If an impediment to duty appears—even if the world perishes—he kills it.
By any means, in any way.
That is how a dragonkin resolves himself.
The parasite, the corners of his mouth lifting again and again, continued whispering in the Salamander's ear. As if to ask what they could possibly do.
Within the fire-clouds, he stood to the left of the Salamander's spirit body, which lay flattened against the ground.
The parasite's body mimicked that of his former host—the warrior who wielded a greatsword.
Thus it looked like a big man bending over to whisper in a crouching dog's ear.
Shinar did not know how to fight as a spirit. So she judged she could not stop what the intent was doing now. Instead, she too could at least deliver a whisper. From the Salamander's other side, she whispered:
"You can stop. That thing cannot affect you."
"If you break the contract, what meaning does your existence have? Hate. Burst. There's no need to endure."
Different voices came from either side. The Salamander, which had given itself the shape of a fire-lizard, vomited flame onto the ground.
It looked like it was coughing blood.
"At this rate, the Salamander's thinking will break."
Even as a spirit, Shinar's senses were exceptional. Instinctively, she seized the problem.
The dragonkin did not step in separately. He only observed he who had impeded his duty.
He was just now setting a goal based on a new duty within himself. Of course, that was something no one could know.
Even a dragonkin could not do anything concrete here.
In truth, the parasite of heat, too, for all his threats, had no knack for physically restraining those two.
He could only torment the Salamander.
If, in the end, this spirit of flame went mad, that would count as success. Shinar discerned the parasite's aim.
"What would you do, Enki?"
Shinar asked her betrothed in her heart and received the answer.
"Crack its skull if I had to, and tell it to come to its senses."