In the end, he hadn’t been able to stop the Thirteen Apostles.
Orphen pondered to himself from atop the Deep Dragon, watching the black sorcerers’ march under the gradually lightening morning sky. They weren’t fools—they were challenging the sanctuary knowing full well that they didn’t stand a chance against their foe.
What can I actually do here? Just try to limit the sacrifices on both this side and the sanctuary’s? From how Leki acted yesterday, that’s what he wants to do too, right? He put a hand on the black beast’s fur.
Leki just kept plodding on silently—literally, without a single sound—toward a clear destination. Now, just like the Thirteen Apostles, he was headed straight for the sanctuary.
If the sanctuary is really planning on sacrificing the rest of the continent and just saving themselves when the goddess invades in ten days’ time, then...it’s true, we may not be able to avoid a clash between them and the Thirteen Apostles.
He couldn’t let the sanctuary execute that plan, but at the same time, humanity didn’t have their own plan to stop the goddess’s destruction. Well, they did, but it had too many uncertain elements...
Orphen glanced out of the side of his eyes at the other people riding Leki with him. The dwarves, who had complained amply about their treatment over the last few days as they were forced to cling to Leki’s front legs while they traveled, were now riding on his back. They were only up here because Majic had insisted on walking, but his departure had only opened up one spot, so they were piled on top of one another on Leki’s back. As a result, they were still not really getting equal treatment.
Behind them was the lord. Almagest Betisletha, the lord of the Imminent Domain. Still pretending to have a broken leg, he was seated with his right leg extended in a splint, gazing out at the horizon.
Recalling what this lord had finally revealed to him last night, Orphen groaned, a hand to his forehead. Almagest, an artificial being created to save the continent from destruction, was the only one with a way to resist the goddess. But to execute his plan, they had to bring the sanctuary under their control.
I have no choice but to continue on this path at this point and keep heading for the sanctuary... he admitted to himself with some resignation. And he might need the Thirteen Apostles to get the lord there. Leki was powerful, sure, but could he get past the full force of the sanctuary fighting against them? Orphen didn’t know.
“Orpheeen.”
A voice pulled Orphen from his reverie. He looked up and Claiomh slid down Leki’s neck from atop his head.
She stopped nimbly right before Orphen and said, “Leki says it’s about to get hard to proceed, so you should watch out.”
“...He does?”
“Yeah. He says to let everyone know.”
Orphen thought for a moment at the girl’s matter-of-fact tone before he asked, “Wouldn’t it be faster for Leki to tell everyone himself?”
“I thought so too, but apparently it’s really tiring for Leki to try to convey his will to other people. He says it’s something he’s not actually supposed to be able to do.”
“He can’t?”
“Yeah... He said a bunch of other stuff I didn’t really get too... I guess it has something to do with the curse on his kind.” Claiomh cocked her own head as she explained.
He understood it himself well enough from that, but Orphen still asked just to confirm what he was thinking, “So he can only convey his will to you?”
“Huh? Hmm... Yeah, I think so. I don’t really get it, though...” she said quietly, folding her arms.
Claiomh herself apparently had no awareness of this, but Orphen knew exactly what had happened. She’s his familiar. Claiomh and Leki are sharing their consciousness and senses.
Deep Dragons’ mental dominion allowed them to connect their minds to less powerful beings. Depending on the strength of that dominion, a Deep Dragon’s familiar could even tap into the dragon’s power and utilize sorcery themselves. Orphen had seen an example of this himself in the west a few months ago. Though Claiomh didn’t seem to be so deeply dominated.
“Anyway... ‘Hard to proceed,’ eh?” Orphen muttered, getting back on track. The way Claiomh had delivered the warning, it was hard to feel much of a sense of crisis, but their situation being what it was, this was news Orphen couldn’t take lightly. “I got it. I’ll tell everyone.”
Orphen stood and looked down, preparing to jump off of Leki. The closest people to them were Majic and Isabella, who seemed to be discussing something.
Isabella, eh? My impression of her from the Tower was that she was hard on herself and others, and prone to making rash decisions. Hopefully, she’s not getting on Majic’s case or anything. When he saw old acquaintances, he couldn’t help recalling the way he thought and felt as a child.
“Hey, Orphen?” came Claiomh’s voice. “At the lord’s mansion, you said that everyone should be doing something, but...it seems like you’re just trying to do it all yourself now.”
Orphen looked back at her in surprise and Claiomh hung her head apologetically.
“I guess you’re right. It took some time to think it over, but putting it into practice is even harder.” Orphen smiled at the blonde girl and leaped down from the Deep Dragon’s back. As he fell a few meters, he heard the dwarves raise a cheer behind him.
“Hmm?! There’s a space open, Dortin! Go now and claim your space!”
“...I think it’d make more sense if you got off my head and moved there yourself, Brother.”
Whatever, Orphen thought as he landed.
Isabella yelped in surprise, leaving Majic to run over. “What is it, Krylancelo?”
“Leki’s getting nervous,” he said, indicating the giant black wolf who moved without making sound.
When Isabella gave him a confused look, Orphen realized that what he was saying made no sense. “I mean, I know I don’t need to tell anybody to be careful at this point, but...if Leki’s going out of his way to warn us, I figure something pretty intense is about to happen.”
“I suppose you’re right. If you’re concerned, you should tell Master Pluto or Miss Maria—” She indicated the Thirteen Apostles. The two she’d mentioned were commanders, yet they walked at the front of the group.
Until that very moment, they had been there.
Orphen turned to them and saw just a flash of them.
What happened in the next instant was exceedingly simple.
There was one loud sound, a burst of pressure.
An explosion, followed by a gust and screaming voices.
And the two sorcerers walking at the front of the pack—one of them a large man, one of them a woman—sprang into the air like they were rubber toys.
They shot up, spinning, drawing an arc above Orphen and the rest of the party.
Orphen watched, uncomprehending. The procession stopped.
As the court sorcerers clamored, Isabella’s muttered words came through to Orphen strangely clear.
“Th-There go the two monsters of the capital...”
“We traveled here instantaneously from the capital with the assistance of the white sorcerers.” The strong will was still present in the Demon of the Capital Pluto’s voice even after he crashed into the ground, a lump forming on his forehead—it was a miraculously small injury for someone who had gone flying a few dozen meters. He had rejected even a tiny bandage over the wound. It was probably a point of pride.
Maria, who’d been sent flying the same distance, had a similarly insignificant injury, though in contrast with Pluto’s stony countenance, she was barely concealing her displeasure at the situation.
In any case, it was their subordinates who were much more panicked than the two so-called “monsters of the capital.” Some were even approaching whatever invisible wall the two of them had hit and trying to find the sorcerous composition that no doubt sat in the air somewhere. As there was sorcery functioning here, there necessarily had to be a composition somewhere for it to function, but the spell was so different from the sorcery everyone present was used to that it was proving extremely difficult to identify. A couple people got too close and were sent flying in much the same way Pluto and Maria had been. Thankfully, like the two of them, they weren’t injured.
Pluto watched as another of his subordinates went flying with a yelp and clicked his tongue. Instead of scolding the careless sorcerer, he decided to prioritize explaining the situation to the gathered Numbers.
He went on, “The reason they couldn’t transport us directly to the sanctuary was because the white sorcerers feared the Deep Dragons. That, and the barrier in this location...”
“If you come from the west, you can get into Fenrir’s Forest, though,” Orphen muttered, his arms crossed.
Pluto nodded and disagreed at the same time. “This was once part of the forest too. The trees just receded.”
“A barrier, huh?” one of the sorcerers repeated.
Pluto indicated the slight bruise on his forehead and responded, “That’s right. A barrier. Our lack of injury wasn’t luck, and it wasn’t a laughing matter.” He rubbed his finger against the bruise, his tone frustrated. “If I’m not wrong about this, this is spirit sorcery. So it can’t hurt us...but neither can we pass through it. There are very few ways to foil spirit sorcery, after all.”
A young sorcerer bounced on the ground in the distance after being flung back by the barrier. A few of his companions rushed over to him and they all sighed, discouraged, at the power they had no way to thwart.
Orphen sighed as well, watching them. “Fenrir’s Forest is protected by the Deep Dragons. So the sanctuary has two lines of defense?” he asked Pluto.
“Not that they have a reason for such a thing,” the man said in defeat, though Orphen didn’t know if the sentiment was directed toward him or the dragons. Pluto indicated Leki, who was seated on the ground, and asked vaguely, “Couldn’t the Deep Dragon break through?”
“...Apparently, Leki said it was going to get ‘hard to proceed.’ He didn’t say ‘impossible,’ though, so I think he could still make it...”
Leki had let down the weights on his back, but Claiomh remained perched atop his head. The enormous Deep Dragon sat, looking toward the sanctuary. The spirit sorcery barrier should have been just a few meters in front of his nose.
“Let’s retreat a hundred meters and come up with a countermeasure,” Pluto called out to everyone. Then he turned and said only to the Numbers, “Put another way, that means that if we can just get through here, the white sorcerers will get us to the sanctuary. If what you said about the Deep Dragons abandoning their protection of the sanctuary is true, then this is the last trouble we should encounter.”
There was more anxiety in the Demon of the Capital’s voice than disappointment—that meant this barrier wouldn’t be that big of a problem for him. The real difficulty would come after breaking through the barrier.
“We’re a hundred meters away from the sanctuary...”