According to the missionary unit that had done battle in Friedland, the villagers had some kind of mysterious and terrible weapon that could pierce even metal shields. Anyone facing the Blue Angel, who now stood in the place of Friedland’s erdgod, might well find themselves faced by Friedlanders wielding such weapons as well—so perhaps it was not entirely true to say the two were evenly matched.
“Comparative strength in battle has little to do with ambush and assassination. Rather, they were created as tactics to overcome a superior military force. The fourteenth angel was sent to deal personally with the Blue Angel, and as far as that goes, there will be no problem.”
“I suppose...” It was true enough.
“What’s more, it would be hard to believe the people of some frontier burg have developed such a weapon themselves. Most likely, it was brought into this world by the angel’s powers. They are, after all, the powers of creation, to be frank.” Yaroslava was practically singing the words. “Assuming there’s no major difference in their actual abilities, it simply comes down to which of them knows about more weapons and can use them more effectively.”
Justin didn’t speak. Theoretically, at least, the two angels should have been capable of producing the same weapons. Perhaps, by using a soul from the same world as the Blue Angel, their new creation would know of the same weapons.
Yaroslava went on. “I also made sure her memories included every anti-erdgod tactic in the Church’s arsenal, including the most cutting-edge weapons and techniques. There may be only one of her, and she may have to do everything herself, but she has as many weapons at her disposal as several contingents of missionary knights, joined to the freedom of mobility one can only have when acting alone. It makes a targeted assassination so much easier. I really think her chances are quite good.”
Justin still said nothing. Again, her logic made sense.
“But if so,” he finally said, “if one was so good, shouldn’t we have made two and sent them both?” He conjectured that this would have made them twice as likely to kill the Bluesteel Blasphemer. They couldn’t have sent five or ten angels; it would have been too conspicuous. But one more wouldn’t have hurt, surely?
“Well...” For the first time, Yaroslava looked troubled. “She refused.”
“Refused?”
“She looked as if she might decide to go on a rampage then and there if I insisted on creating an additional angel, so I yielded to her.”
After a long moment, Justin murmured, “A troublesome child indeed.” Self-awareness meant there were no promises that she would obey their orders absolutely. But there was something more on his mind. “If she’s so close to open rebellion, what’s to stop her from turning on us?”
That. That was the real problem. The chances might have been slim, but what if the fourteenth angel arrived at her destination and then decided to betray them, to join forces with the Blue Angel? Then they would be in twice as much danger as they already were, or perhaps more.
“Rebellion...?” Yaroslava gave a portentous smile and ran her pointer finger along her cheek. She almost seemed to be enjoying this, to be happy. She seemed to have something up her sleeve, a secret, and she was savoring the decision of whether to unveil it here and now.
“Yaroslava.” Justin narrowed his eyes and glared at the alchemist.
“Don’t worry, Your Holiness. Such concerns are utterly... utterly without merit.”
“I suppose you have some proof of that.”
“She is a weapon made to kill the Blue Angel. That is her only purpose.” Yaroslava licked her lips. The gesture reminded Justin of a snake; her smile was like that of a viper. “I’m an alchemist. Did you think I would slavishly follow Urban’s research to create my own angel? I put something special inside her, even before I inserted the soul to activate her.”
“And what would that be?”
“Poison.” Now Yaroslava was smiling openly.
“Poison... Slow-acting, I presume.”
“But of course.”
It would be meaningless if the fourteenth angel were to die before she completed her mission. So the poison would be slow enough to allow her to do her work, but then end her life before she could rebel against the Church.
“At most, I would say she has six months,” Yaroslava said. “At that time, the fourteenth angel will be destroyed, rendered back into her constituent parts. It’s all part of my plan. As I said, Your Holiness, you have no need to worry.”
Then she gave that smile again, like a snake about to strike.
It had been five days since they had started staking out the sign in the plaza. Yukinari and the others continued their observation day and night, but they didn’t see anyone who looked like an assassin. Sometimes townspeople would stop and stare curiously at the board, but they showed no more interest than that. No one so far had reacted strangely.
There hadn’t been any guarantees with this plan. But at the moment, they had no other options, and all they could do was continue their overwatch.
That, at least, was what Yukinari thought. But it had been four days already, and now the fifth was drawing to a close. The languid yellow light stretched out as if to mock their fruitless efforts, the shadow of the sign growing longer and longer in the plaza.
But then...
“Yukinari!”
Yukinari looked up, thinking it was time to switch shifts. But the voice was Arlen, shouting as he came up the stairs.
“Hey, quiet,” Yukinari said. “I thought I asked everyone to steer clear of this place.” If the killer knew they were being watched, all this would be for nothing.
But Arlen shot back, “Quiet, yourself! I’m not one of your lackeys! You are an utterly hopeless man! I might at least expect a little thanks for coming to call you.”
“Call me?” Yukinari frowned and exchanged glances with Dasa and Berta.
“Yes! They’ve found another victim!”
“Damn! Another one...?”
Had the killer not noticed Yukinari’s sign? Or had he been wrong in his supposition that the words “Amano Hatsune” would have some effect? Could it be that the criminal was not Yukinari’s older sister after all? Or...
“Just come with me already,” Arlen said in annoyance. “Fiona is asking for you! Sheesh. Spending all day staring at a sign at a time like this... I don’t know what the lot of you are thinking. We need every hand available to watch the area!”
“Well, I—”
It was true, Yukinari hadn’t explained much about this sign to Fiona, and certainly not to Arlen. It was hard to blame the young man for being upset. But still...
“Come on!”
Still, they couldn’t leave the watch unattended. What if the killer came through the plaza while Yukinari and the others were away? What if they showed some reaction to the sign? Even if the watcher wasn’t able to snipe the person, they might at least get a sense of who they were.
“Dasa, you come with me,” Yukinari said. “Berta—I’m sorry, but I need you to stay here. I’ll come back and switch with you as soon as I can.”
“I understand.”
“I know you might not be sure who you should shoot, but if you see anyone acting strangely, at least take note of what they look like and where they go.”
“Yes, sir. I can do that.”
With that, Yukinari and Dasa rushed down the belltower stairs after Arlen. Yukinari, however, stopped and looked back at Berta.
“Don’t do anything crazy!” he called to her.
“No, sir!” she replied. And then Yukinari was off again.