“You still resist in this state? Despite your rotten blood...” His unspoken contempt seeped through, and I was seized by the impulse to die in apology.
“Indeed. The death of one prince descended from the previous king—the very source of that one’s demise—is no loss, First Prince Regulus.”
Oh, he called my name...
“Yes,” I gasped. Wrapped in bliss, I lifted my face. That expression, mingled with contempt and scorn, was precious to me.
“Kill yourself.”
“Of course.” I drew the small dagger hidden in the other sleeve of my coat, pressed it against my throat, and applied pressure.
At that moment, Mihail reached out and seized my wrist.
“No... Don’t... Regulus...” Then, some consciousness—no, will—returned, and Mihail’s plea entered my thoughts.
What was I trying to do?! The only one I would kneel before was Laviange Robur!
I flung the dagger away.
Mihail had weakened his own resistance by channeling magic into me. He groaned, placing both hands on the ground as if to kneel, yet he still struggled.
“Hmph, this is troublesome. I considered shattering his ego and turning him into a puppet with enchantment, but it seems there’s no other way but to have him die...”
Suddenly, a cheerfully bright voice sounded near us. “Well, well, well!”
“What on earth?” the pope muttered in utter astonishment. The calm smile on his face vanished completely.
“Whoa, what a surprise!” A sound like the rustling of leaves and the jingling of bells echoed as the voice spoke.
My gaze wandered, searching for the source of that voice. Right between the pope and us was...a plant seedling? When did that grow?
“What on earth... You...?”
You? An acquaintance? But that was clearly a plant...
The pope, perhaps out of shock, lost his focus on the charm spell. Mihail managed to lift his face, pulling his hands off the ground.
The plant was about knee-high to a child. Its stem was woody at the base, and both it and the branches were a bluish-purple green.
“Long time no see! Tremble with emotion!”
It was hardly the most important thing right now, but the jingling sound came from the plant’s branches and leaves rustling as it spoke.
It was clear the talking plant and the pope were indeed acquainted.
“Where have you been all this time... No, more importantly, what business do you have now... Surely not...” The pope’s expression changed, as if something had clicked into place. “Ha... You’ve come to stop me again, haven’t you?” He gave a dry laugh, a hint of helpless anger seeping through. This was likely the pope’s true, unguarded way of speaking. “But it’s too late now.” No sooner had the words left his mouth than the pope hurled the spear he held at the plant.
“Useless!” The plant’s branches swayed, leaves rustling as they struck the spear like a drum. The moment the branch hit the spear, white vapor rose from it and the spear vanished. Had it purified and erased the spear? I didn’t understand. It had happened so fast, maybe I’d seen wrong?
The pope was almost certainly already acquainted with the plant. “Hmph. Grown quite powerful for a mere beast, hm?” he said, with more emotion than ever before, Then, flapping his wings to rise into the air, he thrust his left hand forward. In the same motion, he flapped his wings violently toward the plant, kicking up a fierce wind. The glossy, dark red feathers—now clearly revealing razor-sharp points—attacked the plant along with the gust. A spear flew from his outstretched hand.
But the plant, unmoving from its spot, said easily and casually, “That’s not nearly enough!” Its branches moved swiftly, knocking both the spear and the feathers away. The pope, refusing to be bested this time, took another spear in hand and charged forward, attacking while cutting off several branches.
“Hmph! I worked hard!” the plant told him. “Ever since you made a contract with a demon to gain power, I’ve been searching for a way to stop you!”
“Ha! A mere magical beast spouting nonsense! I chose this power myself! Until the princess is revived, no demonic influence can make me relinquish it! What could you possibly do now? You who weren’t even granted a contract with the princess! You who were too weak to save her!” Black smoke rose again from the pope’s body and was absorbed back into him, making his frame grow larger and more robust.
“Jingling, jangling leaves, make some noise! Shall I neutralize the charm’s effect with sound?”
Until now, each time black smoke had risen from the pope’s body, the charm power residing in the magic grew stronger. I finally realized I wasn’t feeling its influence at all, and hadn’t for some time.
Was that plant truly a magical beast? I’d never heard of a magical beast neutralizing such a rare, innate ability—one that could be called an enchantment—especially one distorted and amplified by the influence of a demon contract.
“Hmph, I told you I’d try my best, didn’t I?” the plant retorted. “Besides, I’m making you break your contract with that demon, okay? Otherwise, I won’t be able to show my face! But we’ll both get scolded later!”
“Ha! Don’t make me laugh! The demon’s power has fused with my own magic! I can’t break the contract now! But unless the princess is revived, the contract won’t be fulfilled, and the demon won’t devour my soul along with my magic! If the princess is revived and regains her rightful position, then even if my soul is devoured and I suffer eternal torment, my heart’s desire would be fulfilled!”
“But she doesn’t want that in the first place! I guess I’ll just have to use force after all!”
“Stop making me laugh! If you think you can do it, go ahead!”
“You’re telling me! I’ll do it! Hey, come on! My Bible! Laaaviii!”
“Huh?” Mihail and I let out identical dumbfounded sounds.
Laaaviii? Laavii... Lavi...ange? No, surely not... Right?
I really needed to stop this habit of getting so infatuated that I immediately associated everything with my beloved. Mihail should do that too.
We looked at each other, shook our heads, and muttered, “No way.”
A white, glowing magic circle appeared before the plant...and in the center stood a figure I recognized all too well... Huh?
“Cheers again... Oh my?”
The lady I’d just let escape moments ago appeared with a light popping sound.
On her head was something that looked like some kind of turtle-mouse hybrid hidden by illusion magic. She clutched a large bottle in her left hand and held a mug high in her right.
Cheers? She was making a toast? Her pose clearly suggested she was in high spirits, about to start a drinking party...
Wait, “again”? How many times had she toasted? Had the feast already begun? What unforeseen chaos could the young lady have caused in such a short time?
“Laviange... After I went to all that trouble to let you escape...” Mihail’s irritated words were directed at the plant.
“Tch.” For some reason the pope clicked his tongue and distanced himself from both the plant and Lady Robur. Wasn’t he aiming for her beautiful face and indigo eyes?
“Laviange! Hey, give me a drink too!”
This plant was taking its sweet time. Every branch, including those that had been roughly pruned by the pope, began stretching out, becoming thinner and branching out again and again. Then, several branches overlapped, forming numerous braid-like bundles. Purple-green leaves rustled as they grew anew on the bundles.