God is with me.
We see the same world. We seek the same horizon. I have faith.
✦ ✦ ✦
Just what is happening? What myth am I watching unfold?
My Shadow Vision sees from many perspectives on a large scale. That is to say, I’m seeing reality as it’s happening. That the Golden, the head of the vampire Apostles and the unquestioned greatest combatant on the continent, is engaged in a desperate fight to the death with a human. And that she’s been on the back foot from the very beginning. This is all so far beyond what I could have imagined.
The Golden can even fight dragons. In fact, she’s even driven them off. She is truly powerful. She has a remarkable number of attacks. No one is even close to being her peer. While expertly wielding lightning and earth magic on one hand, she’s got extremely high physical abilities and is an able melee fighter. She can summon divine relics with magic, letting her choose the range and style of attack as suits her. Every attack has enough power and flexibility to be decisive. More than that, she’s got the accumulated experience of countless battles. Her combat techniques are sublime. A stance that misses no openings but provides none in return.
But in spite of all of that... each of her expertly chosen responses keep getting crushed.
Just who the hell is this freak human? Well, I mean, other than an Apostle.
Damn, the Golden’s elbow was tired from the strength struggle, so she missed. And with the opponent suddenly ducking, she’s lost her balance. She rapidly regains her footing, but looks like she still took a slash to the flank. The pole-arm’s just lying there. Looks like she got hit by that new short sword.
“Graaaaaah!” What a sound. She attacks furiously but her opponent’s nowhere to be found. The enemy Apostle keeps slipping behind her. In spite of the Lightning Body she must be using, she’s still being outmaneuvered.
“Guh!” And the moment she tries a sweep, she takes another slash.
The enemy Apostle is impressive. To cut at the back of her head while jumping over her. This time the weapon’s a single-edged sword. Such finesse, switching between weapons at will.
“Hraaaagh!” She flings out another Lightning Bolt. But the impact of the spell, amplified by the relic, only manages to scythe through huts and other buildings. Her opponent’s no longer there.
The enemy Apostle is, oh wow, back on the horse that had been blasted to pieces just earlier, and opened the distance.
Yeah, that confirmed it. Almost all of her moves are being read.
I knew there was something wrong to begin with. No matter the amount of training, a human simply can’t outmatch a vampire physically. Then there’s the Lightning Body. In a simple test of strength the Golden should overwhelm the enemy Apostle. But the reason for her deteriorating position... the enemy’s reading her movements.
Her opponent’s moving faster than she can even begin her chosen action. No, the opponent might be moving even before she decides what to do. That’s the only way I can explain the dodging of lightning. Timing rather than speed.
Suppose it’s easy to understand once you notice it. A little philosophical, though.
“D-Damn you... Grrr... Urrgh!” Oh boy, she’s getting quite tired.
That’s to be expected. I mean, part of it is missing all those wild swings, but she was also firing off Heavenly Thunder in succession earlier. That was in combination with a second-rank summoning spell. A heavy load, even for her. The price of fighting without rest.
Still, she’s the Golden. She won’t retreat. She won’t cower. She won’t look down.
Look at that, the red-black cavalry are charging at her, but she’s not taking so much as half a step back. She kicks off against the ground. Earth magic, Stone Shield. A collision, but she continues.
She runs and she jumps. It’s not just a shield now, it’s a wall. Toward that she aims a flying kick. Stringing along the kicks, she moves forward. It’s a traditional combat technique for vampires. Originally created to cope with elven Flowing Worlds, it becomes a proper attack when done by the Golden.
But... the enemy saw that coming, too. The red-black soldiers prepare their pikes, as though to sandwich her as she lands. They line up their pike points and charge with such gusto they seem willing to hit allies to get her.
Still, she doesn’t avoid anything.
“Raaaagh!” Her right arm sweeps outward with Fulgrod, enough force to blast away the pike points, soldiers included. From her left a Lightning Bolt. With practiced skill, she expands its radius, pushing back the enemy.
That’s the Golden. Unflinching tactics. Polished mastery. All overwhelming.
But still, the opponent’s read it all. A single throwing spear, blade glowing red with magic, flies in from the front.
It finds its target. It stabs deep into the Golden’s chest, then pierces through it, before erupting in flame.
“Grraaaaaagh!” Whoa, fire and lightning entangling. At the magic trying to set her alight, she’s fighting with magic of her own. Her monstrous strength enters the fray as well. She snaps the spear in half and tosses it aside.
She’s hurt and desperate. Her golden hair is charred, sending up wisps of smoke. Yet still, her presence sweeps her surroundings. The Golden is still the Golden.
“...Kuroi, was it?” Huh, she’s started talking.
I need to hear this... time to move a little closer.
“Impressive... Kuroi, Apostle of the War God. You’ve defeated me, the Golden. A remarkable achievement. Today’s a day that’ll be talked about for ages. A day when humanity finally landed a blow. A story to inspire all, regardless of the people... though only so long as this continent’s history continues.” I can tell up close. This is the end for her. That fate was decided by the slash to her back.
Her will and magic are still there, but her body is failing. Something deep within her, something that shouldn’t be touched is damaged. Her hair, her fingertips, the edges of her feet; they begin to dry out and flutter away. They’re turning to ash.
“I do have one option left... Mmh... Seems you know what it is. That’s why you’re hanging onto your weapon. Even though your magic’s approaching the limit, you maintain your forces and seek an opening... Such an intense, heated gaze.” The magic swirls. Even now, will she deal her last ace? She is, after all, the Golden.
Summoning—special magic that only Apostles can use. The third rank is its ultimate form. A spell she has only ever used once, fighting the head of the elves, the Absolute. Summon Daemon.
A daemon. An enormous manifestation of fear. A greater servant of the Demon God. Summoning such a thing, this entire region would become a wasteland.
“Not to worry, I’m choosing to do nothing. If I try that now, it’ll take so much of my magic that I’d just vanish. And only it would remain. To end like some sacrifice... that would be pathetic. Unworthy of the Golden.” Yes, that’s a choice worthy of her.
The proud vampire, despite being the Demon God’s first Apostle, had always hated and resented being ruled by the Demon God. That’s who she is.
Which was why I’d wanted to get to know her. I didn’t expect her to lick my entire body.
“...Summoning magic shows the wielder’s philosophy.” Could be something only Apostles understand, but I think I get it.
“I wanted to rule at the top of the world, and I had no doubt I deserved it. So first I desired a symbol of my dominance of the world. Next, I desired the influence to overwhelm the heavens and control the earth. Then, finally, when I desired a throne... God sent me a single piece.” Ah, I see. There’s desires that can be guessed... and to have it torn from your grasp. I suppose that happens, too.
“Is this really all...? The world I lived in, when I was created, looked to me like a wonderful world.” Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
The end of a vampire is always tragic. Unlike elves and humans, they’re a people that can never return to Nature.
“Kuroi, how will you, the human, live? In this world that ought to be wonderful... and in this world that’s fallen to a mere plaything of the gods... how will you die?” Almost childlike laughter from the nameless Golden.
“Hope it’ll be fun enough to make God throw a fit.” She dissolves into dust.
All that’s left is a single damaged, black stone.
Not to worry. In spite of it all, I’m your vassal. I won’t let the humans take your death stone. I won’t let it hear the human victory odes, and it won’t face morning in these lands.
So, well, rest peacefully.
And leave the rest to the living. Okay?