[217] 6. Trouble in Heaven (4)
As the jewel's rotation quickened, its influence even reached Canis.
A crushing drowsiness washed over him. He bit his lip to bear it, but if he kept cutting the handcuffs like this, the women's wrists would be torn off.
"No! I can't leave Arian behind!"
Blood welled from his bitten lip.
Amy and Tess watched helplessly; no advice could reach him.
Only Arian could stop him.
"Canis, there's still time. Back off for now. You'll collapse first if you keep going like this."
"Damn it! Damn it!"
He knew he had to withdraw.
If he could just cut a little more... if he had the overwhelming power of his master, he would have already severed every shackle.
-Information transfer rate: 50 percent.
"I'll save them. Wait a bit longer."
Canis couldn't bring himself to look at the women and stepped away beyond the Object's area of effect.
He came to as if waking from a dream, but the pain from before didn't fade. It had been a coercion unlike any sleep magic.
'Right—the coercive force. That's the Object's trait.'
Objects are mutations of the realm of things. Some cosmic glitch had twisted the very concept of an object.
Because they didn't violate causality, there was no way to block an Object's ability by any means.
Worse, time was running out. Calling a sleep spell when a time limit was active was a brilliant move.
"Rian, stay back. I'll handle this."
Canis swapped places with Rian. For a swordsman whose mental fortitude was weak, a sleep Object was like poison.
Peope pointed toward the entrance to the Great World War and shouted.
"Everyone! Look over there!"
The giant Imir was running toward them with a ponderous stride.
Rian's eyes hardened. He looked somewhat smaller than when they'd first seen him, but it was definitely the same giant.
Even the cool-headed Canis couldn't hide his anger this time.
"Damn it! Even a giant shows up!"
"Calm down. I'll take the giant. You deal with Baalv."
Considering matchups, it was the right decision. Still, Rian wanted to fight him directly even aside from type advantages.
He hadn't even managed to seriously wound him in their first clash, and now it was his chance to show his specialty.
When Rian reached the entrance, Peope flew up holding the Metagate.
"What do I do with this?"
"Keep it safe for me. We'll definitely come back."
"What? How could I—!"
Peope couldn't finish his sentence. It was an overwhelming request, but when he looked at Rian's face, he couldn't bring himself to refuse.
That was not the face of someone who would say, "We'll come back" lightly.
"But if things get dangerous—"
Rian turned to Peope and smiled gently.
"Then give it up and run. It's not worth more than your life."
Peope clenched his lips and scowled.
How could he say such things? Why were humans always so foolish?
"Don't talk nonsense! Why can't you be honest? You want me to protect this even if you die! Without it you can't get back!"
Rian gave no answer.
"You idiot! The opponent is Imir! Imir, king of the giants! You'll die if you fight him!"
Only then did Rian realize. His name was Imir? Not just a giant, but the king of giants.
If so, he was more than a fitting final opponent.
Peope's chest ached. Was that what human life was? Compared to fairies, their lives were as brief as mayflies—does that drive them to burn themselves to the end?
Rian stood in the entrance like a solar eclipse, backlit in a way that made him appear oddly huge.
"What's your name… your name…"
Peope's voice came out strained and hoarse as he forced it.
"What's your name?"
Asking for a name in Heaven was dangerous, but Peope felt he had to know. They had come to trust one another.
"I am Ozent Rian."
Rian, sword raised, turned to Peope and said, "I am Shirone's sword."
Thunk!
He drove the greatsword deep into the ground, rested his back against the blade, and lowered his center of gravity.
Imir sprinted at him with a grotesque grin tearing his mouth.
"Kukuku! Second bout, huh? That's how a warrior proves himself."
"Come then, king of giants."
Imir did not slow his charge.
Feeling the oppressive weight of a boulder rolling toward him, Rian braced and let out a shout.
"Waaaaaah!"
Imir's hunched shoulder crashed into Rian's torso.
The greatsword bowed as if about to snap, then sprang back.
Creak—something inside Rian's abdomen cracked. Blood burst from his mouth and stained the air red.
@
A shockwave tore through Imir's chest.
The battlefield where Heaven's greatest mage-swordsman and a warrior had clashed was a ruin.
Wherever they had passed, the ground had caved in; wind rushed in through broken panes.
Imir leaned against a wall and laughed. As the signal of the shockwave rolled in, his body began to disassemble at the cellular level.
"Kukuku, not bad. How does it feel? To have pierced me."
Ashur's mouth was bitter. Imir had lost his body, but he was no one who would allow a sword so easily.
"...Was it your 'part'?"
Imir was a giant who'd achieved the unprecedented ten stages of the Anecdotes of Consumption. Only Ra knew how many bodies he had absorbed, but the common theory said it exceeded ten thousand.
"Just because I'm a giant doesn't mean I'm stupid. Take it slow. Go ahead—go first; I'll be waiting."
Imir sagged down, and Ashur's blade passed through and emerged from his head.
Moments later, Imir's form bubbled and turned into a black liquid.
Ashur stared at the liquid soaking the ground. When he opened his palm, his sword changed into a signal and vanished.
"Damn, I let my guard down."
Imir hated strategies. He viewed them as the resort of the weak. Yet today he had swallowed his pride and gone to the Great World War.
Animal instinct? No—superhuman instinct.
Imir liked simplicity but always beat complexity because he possessed a single trait by birth—the instinct to smell war.
History of Heaven showed Imir always at the heart of war.
This time was no different.
He'd intuited that events in the Great World War would become the decisive trigger for reclaiming his flesh.
"It may already be too late."
Though his inclinations opposed one another, Imir's nose could be trusted.
That he abandoned the fight and disappeared meant there was no need to stall. The situation at the Great World War was clearly far more serious than expected.
Ashur pushed off the ground and left the battlefield.
@
"Canis! Back off! You can't do this anymore!"
Arian shouted. Ten minutes had already passed since they entered the Object's domain. Still, Canis only increased the rate of his magic.
Baalv, deeming him not worth responding to, stepped aside. The basic might of an Igak Mara exceeded Canis's ability, but as long as the Object remained, Baalv would not intervene directly.
A sleep Object plunges a creature into sleep, but what was scarier was the refusal.
If one fought it off by force, the accumulated fatigue from sleep deprivation would eventually lead to death.
Canis's current mental state equaled about eight days without sleep.
"Not bad for a human. But how long can you last? If you don't get proper rest, you'll die."
Canis came to his senses.
He hadn't heard what Baalv said moments ago. The visuals were not reaching his brain.
-Canis! Snap out of it!
Harvist shouted through the mental channel. It was no use. His mind had begun to paralyze; no reply came.
"Your master bothers you quite a bit. I suppose that's natural since you share life."
Kariel's words made Harvist glance back. The archangel had descended to observe the situation. He had clearly detected that Harvist's power had weakened.
"Maintaining darkness requires considerable energy. Are you replenishing that with human life? An amusing notion, but it only disperses strength."
Canis slowly rose to his knees.
He'd only just realized he had been prone. He hadn't even noticed drool at the corner of his mouth.
"Arian, I don't think everyone will make it back alive."
"No! Canis! That can never happen!"
A terrifying thought rose in Arian's mind.
If Canis, who shared his master's temperament, was to attempt something in this situation, there was only one card he would pull—the one Arcane used at death's brink.
Harvist drew the same conclusion.
-Canis, you don't mean the Abyss Memory? But you're not like Arcane. You might not hold out.
Canis shook his head. Mere resolve of that sort wouldn't be enough to defeat an Igak Mara.
-No. I'll try what I told you about earlier. I need your strength, Harvist. Can you help?
-No. Theoretically that magic exists, but it's never been tested. At least interpret the Book of Light and Darkness before attempting it.
-Harvist, if any of us are to survive, it must be Arian. You know that.
Harvist did not reply. But he did not deny it, which amounted to acceptance of Canis's words. It also meant his own annihilation.
-All right. I'll give you my power.
Harvist's form was absorbed into Canis's shadow.
Canis, regaining a sliver of consciousness, steeled himself to die.
He had never particularly decided how he wanted to die. He was simply willing to enter the eternal void.
"Limit of the Abyss."
A magic previously only constructed in theory activated.
Instantly, his mental fatigue vanished. But unlike Arcane, he did not erase memories.
What he erased was limitation.
Canis knew what kind of man he was. He would likely never reach the supreme elevation of Shirone.
So he transcended his limits in his own way.
Children who don't know fire gladly put their hands into flames, and great sages burn themselves to enter samadhi and detachment.
Ignorance and sudden enlightenment differ greatly, but the scale of mental sacrifice in throwing oneself into fire is the same.
If Canis could not become an enlightened sage, he chose to be the ignorant child.
What he gained as a result was a temporary Immortal Function state.
Of course he had not truly reached nirvana. But at least in battle he could muster a comparably steely will.
"Now!"
Until the Limit of the Abyss faded, he felt no fatigue. But to Arian, the sight of Canis darting about felt like hell.
"Canis! No! Please don't!"
Arian cried and screamed. She could not imagine living in the world without Canis and Harvist.
But Canis heard no voice. He felt a perverse exhilaration at the magic he had just successfully enacted and cast the greatest spell he could.
'Minions of Darkness.'
A spell that transforms a mage's mind into physical force. Arcane had been a Dark Golem, but Canis's minions took a wholly different form.
Shadows spread on the ground like a slick surface, and a massive worm—the things they called worms—surged up.
"Master…"
If he could achieve mental strength on par with an Immortal Function, the Minions of Darkness were the perfect match.
'You'll praise me, won't you?'
The ten-meter worm arced and fell vertically.
Baalv didn't tense. He merely drifted away with his arms folded.
"Not bad. This one deserves praise, bu—"
Before Baalv could finish, another Dark Worm burst from the ground.
A reverse waterfall swallowed Baalv and shot up to the ceiling.
The Object cracked with a dry sound, and the snap of Baalv's bones echoed. Moments later, Baalv's grotesquely twisted corpse tumbled down.