The shock of his mother’s transformation into a basilisk chimera had left Mihail vulnerable, and now he’d been seized by the pope’s enchantment. I grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard, but his eyes remained unfocused. More than that, though, his pupils seemed strangely transparent, lacking their usual sparkle. What was happening?
“Heh heh heh, he’s in a tight spot,” Jabi chuckled. “If he remains under this spell...ah, why not have him kill the first prince with his own hands? Then, once the spell is broken, he will surely show a face of utter despair.”
“You truly are a demon,” I spat. “That’s in bad taste.” Honestly, I wanted to avoid that outcome. My beloved would be heartbroken... I found myself jealous at the thought. It was almost unbearable to imagine that seeing her brother despair would hurt more than losing me.
“Well, I am a demon. But I can’t interfere any further. I’m leaving. It’s a shame I can’t involve myself more directly for long, even though this seems interesting. At least try not to fail.”
“Hmph,” the pope scoffed, looking vaguely displeased. “I don’t need advice from a demon.”
With that, Jabi’s form vanished like smoke. It was probably teleportation, but did demons use a different power than the magic humans wielded? Instinctively, I understood only that she vanished using a force distinct from any magic I knew.
When we’d first met on the rooftop, she had mentioned constraints on her manifestation. Earlier, the pope had also said something about Princess Beljeanne’s and Sriarde’s bodies. Learning that demons had their own rules was a boon.
“Well now, Prince Regulus,” the pope said smugly, “your endurance to the very end is truly commendable, but perhaps it’s time you ceased your futile struggles. It’s infuriating, but it seems the previous pope had some use for you after all.”
He was right: His predecessor was about to break through the barrier. The creature’s suction-cup feet had only barely penetrated inside, but the power to dissolve the magic began seeping in from the suckers.
In an instant the pope’s magic, which had been somewhat contained until now, assaulted me, scattering its charm power everywhere.
I couldn’t actually feel the charm at all when it was cast on me. It must have been a mental effect; it forcibly interfered with my conscious mind, forcing an unnatural goodwill toward the pope to well up with such intensity it was sickening. It wasn’t just a simple charm. Resisting the sensation that threatened to overwhelm me at any moment, I slipped my hand into the cuff of my jacket sleeve.
“Oh? Another futile action,” the pope said with a twisted smile.
Ignoring him for now, I thrust the hidden dagger—far smaller than my palm—into my right thigh. The pain, which should have been sharp, felt dull, as if it belonged to someone else. When I twisted it, it shifted to a numbing ache, and the forced, vicious kindness eased slightly. In that same motion, I grabbed the collar of the still silent and motionless Mihail and shook him.
“Mihail!” A sharp pain shot through my thigh, making me groan involuntarily. “Mih...”
“I must...save mother...” Mihail pulled the dagger from my thigh, shook off my hand, stood up, and slowly began to walk forward—toward where his mother, now a chimera, stood.
The chimera tilted its head slightly, its massive green body spreading its front legs and arms wide as if to welcome its son to it. I watched, swallowing hard, as Mihail stepped out of the barrier and advanced into its embrace.
“Food... Mine...” It had been complaining of hunger this whole time. The chimera’s fingers bore sharp claws. It moved as if to thrust them into Mihail, reaching out to grab him... But, without embracing him, the chimera let out a shrill scream and stumbled backward.
I glanced at it as the barrier dissolved, dodging the tentacles that reached for me. As the barrier vanished and the former pope’s face came toward me, I made full use of my enhanced physique magic and punched it hard. I followed up swiftly with a gust of wind magic that blew him toward the waterfall.
The wound on my thigh had already healed. As Mihail had pulled out the dagger, magic had healed it. Furthermore, he had also loosened the charm’s effect, using dark-attribute psychic magic with drastically increased precision.
As I glanced at Mihail, I saw the chimera, which had thrust the dagger I’d given him into its own forehead, blown away toward the edge of the crimson-black magic circle. Mihail, using body enhancement and wind magic like me, had apparently kicked the creature in the stomach.
At the edge of my vision, tentacles writhed. I wasted no time conjuring a pillar of fire with a mix of fire and holy magic, engulfing the octopus-pope in flames. He collapsed, writhing, his death throes swallowed by the flames. I roasted him until he was charred.
Meanwhile, the chimera let out a bestial scream from its human mouth. Light arrows forged from holy magic appeared in droves, piercing its body. Of course, the light arrows were fired by Mihail. But their power was weak: They wouldn’t be enough to take a life. The proportion of magical attributes within Mihail’s body was fluctuating, and, right now, his dark magic was strangely active.
Even so, the reason Mihail used this magic...
“What a truly heartrending display of familial love.” Though his tone was gentle, the contempt in the pope’s dark eyes was clear. “When did you manage to resist the enchantment?”
“It’s simply that dark magic is easier to wield now, and my resistance to it has grown stronger. Pope, what exactly are you so enraged about?” Mihail turned back to the pope quietly. His violet eyes held no intense emotion, but rather a hint of melancholy...?
“I cannot tolerate the royal family and the Four Dukes trampling upon the princess’s dignity and continue to wield their power,” the pope replied quietly...but as I looked closer, I thought I saw black smoke rising from his body.