[309] Master of the Incarnation (7)
Reina, who had given the order, threw Shirone's arm over her shoulder and stood.
With Ataraxia gone, the nobles would surely rise up. But the highest nobles were already restrained by their attendants, so no major upheaval had yet occurred.
Still, someone blocked her path. Bosun, a knife plunged into Shirone's belly.
Reina spoke in a cold voice.
"What do you think you're doing? The fighting is over. Step back, or I'll have the throats of the nobles we've captured cut."
"Bo—Bosun! Step back at once. Let him go!"
"Yeah! Back off! I said back off!"
The nobles, knives at their throats, urged Bosun on.
He did not move an inch. Even if all the nobles here died, he would not allow Shirone to be left alive.
The world is divided by force and intellect; humans are wolves or sheep.
If Shirone had been a docile sheep, even with the archangel's supreme intellect he could have been kept alive and used. But Shirone was not a sheep. Even if this were an accident, someone willing to blow up the royal castle was far too dangerous to leave alive.
'Today's incident will certainly split the factions in the castle. If Zion doesn't become king, everything's finished.'
Even within Kazra, aside from Woorin, most of Teraze's inner circle were Zion's men. It was unthinkable that Teraze would show mercy to a defeated prince.
"Why not negotiate instead?"
Amy was stunned by Bosun's brazenness. Who had drawn a blade first and then started talking about negotiations?
"How can you say that? Move aside now!"
Bosun hadn't stepped back because he expected them to comply. He needed time.
Shirone's condition was effectively half-dead. When every second mattered, time was the most terrifying weapon.
Reina saw through Bosun's plan. Still, she couldn't simply order the nobles' throats cut.
Bosun had already decided Shirone was the most dangerous enemy they'd ever faced. If the nobles were killed, Shirone would be killed too. From Reina's position—where she absolutely had to save Shirone—there was no other option but to think of a different way.
As Reina and Bosun glared at one another, a gale swept in through the Grand Hall's entrance. Dressed in black, figures flew in like a swarm of bats, the sound of their arrival like burning fire.
Thirty silhouettes landed in the center of the Grand Hall. Each wore an owl mask; at their waists hung identical swords of the same length and make.
The nobles' eyes widened in disbelief at the inverted-triangle badge on their collars.
"Th—that's...?"
The Pungjang, the Empress Teraze's direct guard.
A hundred swords sworn to Teraze. It was rare for the whole unit to move, but when they appeared it was said that everything in sight vanished.
"Why is the Pungjang here?"
The Pungjang were not an army. As Teraze's blades, they never moved without the Empress's orders. Besides, no matter how fast they were, Kazha—no, Kashan—was too far for them to have come here just because of today's incident.
Arranged in triangular squadrons, the Pungjang faced forward with unerring posture. From the center of the formation came a chilling voice.
"As of this time, we assume custody of Shirone. Furthermore, we strip all decision-making authority concerning Kazra's internal affairs. Those who violate this should remember it will be considered an act of war against the Kashan Empire."
The nobles murmured.
To revoke internal authority meant stripping the powers of every noble present. They waited, expecting someone to object or cast a dissenting vote, but only silence followed.
Realizing no one dared step forward, the nobles bowed in tacit submission.
"We will obey your command."
They could not oppose an order from Kashan's ruler.
The Pungjang were Teraze's swords. Their arrival alone proved Teraze's command was not an empty threat.
"Wait a moment. Are you really saying that is the Empress's decision?" Bosun challenged.
Of course, like the other nobles, he did not mean to outright reject Teraze's order. Something about this didn't add up.
Zion had not yet been defeated. Shirone teetered between life and death and would die on his own with time. It made no sense to hand Kazra over so readily.
Above all, the Pungjang—who guarded the Empress day and night—could not possibly have arrived in Kazra so quickly.
"I've heard the Pungjang wear owl masks and an inverted-triangle badge on their left chest," one of the Pungjang said.
"...What are you getting at?"
"That makes them easy to impersonate. Transferring sovereignty is a matter of state. If you truly received the Empress's order, you would have brought official documentation. Can you show proof?"
The nobles turned to look.
Bosun's suspicion was not unfounded. It was natural to follow Teraze, but they had to verify whether these men were really hers.
"There are no documents. The order will be delivered."
"Hmm, then it's even stranger. How are we supposed to believe and hand over sovereignty? Do you have any token to verify your identity?"
"If that's what you require—yes, we do."
"May we see it, if it's not rude?"
The Pungjang's triangular squadrons drew together and formed a straight line, as if thirty had merged into one. That one then multiplied into afterimages and lunged. Spinning around Bosun, a black storm erupted.
"Gahk!"
The first blade sliced up under Bosun's chin, lifting his face vertically. As his face rose, thirty swords shredded his body with no collisions between them.
They cut so fast the air trembled like beating wings.
Delivering nearly a thousand strikes a second, the Pungjang moved in sequence and landed precisely back in their original positions. Their formation was a triangular squadron without the slightest error.
The nobles stared at Bosun in stunned silence. Could that possibly be Bosun?
His body had been reduced to pieces smaller than a fingernail. Slowly, blood seeped beneath the minced meat. Something fell from the air and slapped onto the floor.
It was Bosun's face.
There were no pupils, but anyone could see the expression of sheer terror. The face, mouth wide open, shriveled as it soaked in blood.
"No one can impersonate the Pungjang."
The nobles could not object. This display of skill was perfect proof they were the Pungjang.
In truth, the Pungjang's tactics were impossible to mimic. They replicated the movement of wind itself; unless each member's skill was unmatched, imitation was impossible.
Humans who embodied fluid dynamics with their bodies.
A hundred such experts forming a single gust and executing flawless tactics—that was the Pungjang, the continent's most formidable sword collective.
"Master Bosun!" Ekkashi cried, rushing forward, his face pale.
Kneeling before what was left of Bosun, he reached with trembling hands to touch the face-skin, then glared at the Pungjang.
"You bastards...!"
How could they be so cruel?
Even if Bosun had doubted Teraze's sword, he had fought to make Zion king. He did not deserve to die in such a gruesome way for a single mistake.
Ekkashi gripped Frize, its blade dulled, but terror filled his eyes.
From the Pungjang's triangular formation rose an indescribably black aura—a hallucination only Ekkashi could see. The thirty exposed killer-minds produced a mirage of death.
'I—I have to fight. For Master Bosun...'
His heart felt like it was freezing. Frize clattered from his hand, and Ekkashi collapsed, hands on the ground, vomiting up everything.
"Uueek! Uueeek!"
The Pungjang did not even spare him a glance.
They had orders to act and return; this was not their fault. They had indulged such pathetic creatures long enough. That Ekkashi was weaker than expected was beyond their concern.
'A foolish fellow.'
The report had listed him as a promising Rank-6 mage in Kazra. But because Rank-6 required ten times the promotion points of Rank-7, the skill gap at Rank-6 was the greatest.
'Even so, he's frail. There must have been some trick.'
Kazra's weak mana could have allowed state favoritism—concentrating cooperative points from other mages into one, for example.
In any case, Ekkashi's career as a battle mage was over. Once bitten by the Pungjang's trademark group-slaughter technique, "Gaksi," the terror of death would follow him for life.
With Bosun dead and Ekkashi broken, the nobles prudently withdrew. The personal guards who had watched Ekkashi collapse dared not show any fighting spirit.
When the area had been secured, the Pungjang moved again. Each member fluttered like a particle of air and flew toward Shirone.
Reina, supporting Shirone, trembled in the black storm. The Pungjang's words drifted like whispered wind.
Each member uttered one syllable at a time; together their voice blurred the senses.
—We will take Shirone. The continent's foremost experts will treat him. We will return him by tomorrow morning.
A gale blew inside their ears as the Pungjang drew away. Then, like riders on a current, they made a wide detour around the Grand Hall and exited through the gate.
Everyone present could see the movement of the wind with their own eyes.
Wheel of Cause and Effect (1)
"Huff! Huff!"
Arius ran through the inner fortress garden. It was deep night and he couldn't see an inch ahead, but in the Spirit Zone he wouldn't trip on roots.
Even a member of the Seven Great Mages had an ordinary heart. Breathless to his chin, he stopped running and cast Flicker.
He reappeared somewhere completely different from where he'd meant to go.
Off-balance, he fell, hunched his aching back like a shrimp, and rolled across the ground. It was already his twentieth failure.
"Damn it! Damn it!"
The timeline in the inner fortress was subtly warped. Perhaps an error of one hundred-thousandth of a second, but for the exquisitely sensitive Flicker magic that was fatal.
'That bastard is chasing me.'
Armin of the Luminous Eye.
He hadn't gotten confirmation, but a blind mage who manipulates time had to be him.
Two options remained: run and scale the wall, or punch through Armin's time distortion.
The latter was not a good choice. If he made even the slightest mistake, he might appear somewhere far from the escape route.
The power-control devices weren't active yet, but the king's residence was riddled with magical traps. It was only because he'd memorized the paths five years ago that he hadn't lost his way now.
'Run. You're not going to stop breathing just because it's annoying, are you?'
Arius chose to rely on his body. Losing Armin was something to deal with once he reached the inner gate.
Once he was out of Kazra, the world would be fun again.
Armin had broken the pact. If that spread, even the madmen of the Black Line would have to unite.
A wave of blood and wind would sweep the continent.
'That would be entertaining in its own way...'
More intoxicating to Arius than a chaotic world was the thought that he had found traces of Geffin. What countless scholars had scoured the globe for but never found lay in the depths of a single boy.