Immun succeeded.
And the result was unfolding right before our eyes.
Boom! Bang!
The Scriptwriter’s huge body began to explode in a chain reaction.
And it was even expanding in scale.
Booooooooom!!
A massive explosion instantly engulfed about a third of the Scriptwriter’s body.
He really did it.
With this, the Scriptwriter’s overall power must have dropped by at least half.
“Hup!”
Which meant I couldn’t just stand still.
Even as my trembling legs threatened to give out, I forced myself forward.
I’d asked Emily to draw attention away.
From here on out, I had to go alone.
The Scriptwriter’s strength was being chipped away bit by bit.
Because he had underestimated us and played around in the beginning, we were able to close the gap.
If he had gone all out from the start… we would’ve been nothing but corpses by now.
It was only because Yuna and I had our trump card, [Kaleidoscope – Synesthetic Expansion], that we made it this far.
Clack!
The Scriptwriter’s body began to detach.
The area damaged by Immun’s attack….he severed it completely.
Though about a third of his body had been destroyed, he managed to minimize further damage.
But this wasn’t just about reducing damage.
– Interesting.
The Scriptwriter had successfully recovered many of the functions he lost during his blackout.
And that meant—
Whiiirrrrrrr!!
His gears were fully operational again.
“Kuh…!”
I couldn’t even get close.
A ridiculous storm raged with enough force to blow people away.
Mixed within the winds were razor-sharp metal fragments—
Just one moment of carelessness and they could pierce flesh in an instant.
He was combining the powers of the Rack gear and Geneva gear on a huge scale.
I already knew…
“But still, he really can create a natural disaster all by himself, just like that.”
He’d clearly surpassed the realm of machines.
The storm currently raging was bad enough, but the truly terrifying weapons hadn’t even come out yet.
Squirm!
At last, grotesque flesh began sprouting from the Scriptwriter’s body.
Ah, I know this one.
It’s the power of the Babel Gear.
And I know better than anyone how dangerous that ability is.
Squelch! Squelch!
The flesh began wrapping around his body.
It wasn’t just for defense. It was clearly meant to regenerate the main body from within.
At this rate, we’ll never reach the end of this fight.
If he builds a full defense system using the other gears while in that state, will we even be able to approach?
Once the Scriptwriter gets serious about defense, our options shrink drastically.
“Wah!”
“Uwah?!”
“Puhihi~ Why so surprised?”
“……”
How couldn’t I be?
Yuna suddenly climbed onto my back and shouted, nearly giving away our position.
In a situation like this, how does she still have room for jokes?
“Well… still, having you here is reassuring.”
“Right?”
Of course, things still weren’t looking good.
Like, how were we supposed to get through that storm filled with flying shards of metal?
And who was going to break through the thick flesh protecting the core?
Neither Yuna nor I had the firepower.
I’m just weak, and Yuna is, at her core, an assassin.
Her weapons were mostly daggers and knives. There was no way she could slice through all that flesh.
“Yuna, how’s your stamina?”
“I’m really tired.”
“Specifically?”
“Hmm…”
She had to be worn out.
And of course she was. She’d forced herself to use high-level magic far beyond her usual capabilities.
[Synesthetic Expansion] was a fully original spell. It wasn’t some off-the-shelf magic.
Whereas my [Kaleidoscope] spell was technically basic magic, just cast over a wider area.
But still, there was a trick.
“Johan, you know this, right? Copying a spell consumes way more mana when there’s a big difference in proficiency.”
She had copied [Synesthetic Expansion] using her awakened ability: Copy.
There are two main problems with using that method to cast the spell.
First, as Yuna mentioned, the mana consumption varies wildly depending on the proficiency gap.
And second, precise control becomes impossible.
“My head hurts, my limbs are numb, and I can’t even put strength into them…”
While activating [Synesthetic Expansion], Yuna experienced the exact same symptoms.
In other words, she had immersed herself in that expanded sensory space and suffered for it.
Thankfully, the spell dissipated once her mana hit its limit, but the psychological damage couldn’t be avoided.
“So Johan, here.”
“Huh?”
“Take my hand. We have to go in anyway, right? Let me at least guide you this far.”
“Yuna, you know as well as I do that…”
“Johan, you talk way too much. Isn’t this urgent?”
“…Yeah.”
I quietly took Yuna’s soft, smooth hand.
Stealth doesn’t work on the Scriptwriter.
Right now, he’s still rebooting and using only the surveillance cameras, but once the reboot is complete, he’ll scan the entire space with heat sensors, sonar, or whatever else.
At that point, just holding our breath won’t be enough.
As long as we’re human, we can’t keep our body temperature low enough to avoid detection, and we can’t erase our presence completely either.
From the start, Yuna and the Scriptwriter were a bad matchup.
That’s why I didn’t want to push her past her limit with [Synesthetic Expansion].
But even so…
“Let’s go.”
I stepped into the storm with Yuna at my side.
***
There was still hesitation in Theseus’s sword.
No….rather than hesitation, it was closer to discomfort, a gut feeling.
He had already steeled himself.
He would bring the Scriptwriter down.
But even though his mind had accepted it and his resolve was firm, the edge of his sword dulled.
Because long-standing memories still weighed upon its tip.
Perhaps that’s why, at least against the monster in front of him, Theseus didn’t feel that same dullness.
However…
“Guh?!”
The monster Asterion was powerful.
Even the mighty Theseus couldn’t help but break into a cold sweat in the face of the monster’s overwhelming presence.
What an incredible boy.
As he blocked Asterion’s massive blow, Theseus glanced at Dietrich, who lay collapsed nearby, and let out a quiet murmur of admiration.
Asterion was already covered in wounds.
There was no need to say who had inflicted them.
The Sword Saint Dietrich’s blade had reached Asterion. It just hadn’t been enough.
“Rrraaaaghhh!!”
“Haa…”
Asterion roared.
Each time he did, blood spurted from his unhealed wounds.
“Let’s do this.”
Weighed down by exhaustion, Theseus tightened his grip on his sword.
The monster before him was the strongest he had ever faced.
The countless wounds carved into its body did nothing to diminish its overwhelming presence.
“Hup!”
Clang!
A sword wrapped in crimson radiance struck Asterion’s solid frame.
Its skin was still tough enough to resist being cut. It was an unnerving reality.
It was on a completely different level from the resistance he’d felt when he first cut down Minos.
What I need to aim for…
For Theseus, defeating Asterion was important, but he had to think beyond that.
If he pushed his ability to its limit, bringing it down would be simple, but there would be no going back.
The wound across the chest…
Theseus fixed his gaze on the wound gushing blood. Among the many injuries Asterion had sustained, it was the deepest and largest.
Most likely, it was the final strike left by the boy who had fallen alongside the monster.
Just looking at it sent chills down his spine. As he stared at that strike, Theseus muttered quietly to himself.
“His swordsmanship surpasses mine.”
The world is vast. Truly vast. He had always known that, but still…
“If I don’t keep training myself too…”
For some reason, he felt a strange sense of joy.
***
“Ugh!”
A small shard of metal carried by the wind slashed my arm open.
The shard was so tiny it was barely visible, so the wound wasn’t deep. But it was still undeniably unpleasant.
“Hope this doesn’t turn into tetanus.”
“You’re immune to poison, and you’re worried about tetanus?”
“Honestly, I’m not even sure if metal toxins count.”
“Who knows? If it were Professor Georg, he probably stopped using metal toxins the moment he realized drugs didn’t work on you.”
A brutal truth that was hard to deny.
Maybe it really was time to cut ties with the alchemy workshop for good.
“Ah.”
“…Stick a little closer.”
“Ooh, romantic.”
“Ugh.”
Yuna was the one guiding us through the storm, but her steps were unsteady.
She kept stumbling, probably from a loss of balance, and her clothes were torn here and there by flying metal fragments….I didn’t know where to look.
“Ahem.”
“Oh?”
For now, I draped my outer coat over her.
Given the difference in our builds, just that was enough to solve the problem.
Of course, it did create another issue.
Now my body could be shredded by the flying metal shards.
…Well, there was nothing for it. I’d just have to be extra careful. Still, there are times a guy’s got to act like one.
“Johan.”
“What? Are we there?”
“No.”
Her voice was calm and heavy.
I turned my head in the direction Yuna was facing.
“……”
And then I understood why her voice had sunk like that.
There, I saw a familiar face.
A middle-aged man lying dead with a peaceful expression, as if asleep.
“Immun…”
I had expected his death.
No, I was certain. He was already a wreck before we even arrived, and knowing his nature, I knew he’d never back down no matter the situation.
The moment I learned he had landed a fatal blow on the Scriptwriter, this future was more or less sealed.
“He was a good man.”
“……”
Still, I couldn’t help but feel heavy.
“Let’s go, Yuna.”
We didn’t have the luxury to take care of his body right now. Fortunately, it looked like the Scriptwriter had at least taken some precautions. None of the flying metal shards had even grazed Immun.
Immun had done his part.
No, he’d done more than enough.
Then we should at least do our share.
Yuna and I kept moving forward. It didn’t take long.
With Immun’s body as our marker, we realized our destination wasn’t far off.
– So, you’ve come.
As the massive body of the Scriptwriter came into view through the storm, he spoke.
It was as if he’d been waiting for us.
Maybe he’d sensed our presence the whole time we’d been wandering in the storm.
“Yes. We’ve come.”
– Then I’ll ask again. Why are you here?
His words dripped with something close to contempt.
He muttered in a tone that suggested irritation or maybe disapproval.
Was it because we’d killed Immun?
Whatever the reason, watching someone take their anger out on others after killing someone themselves was more than enough to boil my blood.
– You never wanted to get involved. You never wanted to act. You always prioritized running away, and until you were cornered, you never once moved.
It was true. I never wanted to get involved.
Unless I was the one about to die, or someone close to me was, I never took action.
That was just who I was.
Honestly, I don’t think that’s cowardly.
I was just fully aware of my own limits, that’s all.
Honestly, I twisted myself in knots just to get things done.
But on a personal level, I’m more of a burden than anything, aren’t I?
– And yet, in this case, you took the initiative. You intervened early, at the very beginning of it all, and made it this far.
“That’s true.”
– Why did you?
The Scriptwriter had gaps in his memory.
When the Wonder Mage transformed his body, he deliberately left some parts out.
So he doesn’t remember that conversation from that day.
“I saw a path.”
A path you showed me.
“That’s why I stepped out of the well.”
I will no longer be a victim of this incident.
I will be the one who chooses how it ends.
Leave a Reply to RohonTheDragon Cancel reply