Bailonz Street 13

Swoosh. After a flutter of clothing, someone landed.

“Hey, William.”

What luck. Owen Cassfire appeared right away.

Liam skipped greetings and showed Owen the altar and the corpses of monsters he’d killed. After observing everything with a serious expression, Owen spat out words too vulgar to repeat.

“Living sacrifices just for himself? Crazy bastard.”

Not words one should use for a god, but Liam sympathized. He shrugged and turned around.

In a sudden gust of wind, the dying flames blazed up again. They completely consumed the altar, reducing it to ashes.

Liam answered:

“It would take extraordinary power to maintain a rift that size.”

“So that’s why he’s been gathering sacrifices all this time?”

“He probably completed all the preparations while we weren’t paying attention. His greed never stops. But he would have had no opening. Fortunately Jane appeared, accelerating his plan.”

Owen asked:

“Why the young lady?”

Liam, who had been speaking rapidly, blinked. Some gap was preventing their conversation from connecting.

Come to think of it, Owen didn’t know Jane’s circumstances. He’d been busy enough restraining a colleague who insisted on returning to Bailonz Street as soon as he regained consciousness. He couldn’t have known. So Liam answered clearly:

“Because Jane flowed in from another world.”

“Ah, I see. From another world—”

Owen, who had been responding absently, screamed.

“From another world?!”

“Why act so surprised?”

“Of course I’m surprised, you idiot!”

“You’re not surprised by monsters existing, but finding out other worlds exist is strange?”

Owen Cassfire scratched his red hair vigorously. At the same time, he kept repeating sighs of “Well, well.”

“I see. The young lady’s existence made it possible to mix the two worlds. No wonder attacks targeting magicians have been so severe lately.”

“The thing in that apartment building’s basement was for absorbing magical power too. Greenwich’s magicians were probably attacked for the same reason.”

“How could we not notice when it was so deliberate?”

Indeed. Liam muttered while raising his sword. Then he immediately pointed it at the sky.

Other Greenwich people would be looking for ways to close the rift. But compared to the sacrifices and power gathered over years, Greenwich’s response was like hitting a rock with an egg.

“Shouldn’t we stop that first?”

Owen Cassfire pulled a book from his wide robe sleeve.

“I’m ready. Situation assessment complete.”

“There must be a medium for the summoning.”

Owen grinned. His quick wit and excellent mental agility would find ways to deal with this situation. If Liam was someone who reached conclusions through deduction, Owen found information through instinct.

“If a being of that level can use power unsuited to a physical body while remaining fine, it means they’ve manifested part of their true form. They’re using the remaining power to open that.”

Liam Moore wiped the drying blood from his cheek. The medicine’s effects still remained. Jane must be holding on too.

“Then I’ll leave the medium to you.”

“I was going to do that anyway.”

“It’s a game where only one of us needs to succeed, Cassfire. Either I destroy the altars to stop the offerings and close that, or you destroy the medium to bind the king’s feet.”

And Liam Moore’s eyes could read the flow of magical power sufficiently.

Two altars remained, a level Greenwich could handle anyway. Then…

Liam Moore drew on the ground with his sword. A simple cross, finished by cutting his palm and sprinkling a few drops of blood. Though he was reluctant to use it carelessly, better he steal it than let the Black King use it.

Watching Liam drawing something on the ground, Owen’s jaw dropped.

“You’re not…”

Liam showed his teeth in a grin.

“Seems I caught it from Jane. Won’t feel better until I make them eat dirt.”

“Why blame the young lady for your nasty personality?”

“Want to hear that married couples grow alike?”

“Ugh!” Owen backed away while frantically rubbing his goosebump-covered arms. Liam Moore stuck the transparent sword in the center of the cross. The sword that had cut solid stone like paper was planted in the center. Blood stained the handle irregularly, but even that gradually seeped in and disappeared.

“…Still a creepy sword no matter how many times I see it.”

Owen clicked his tongue and glanced at the altar that had become ashes.

Though the Black King had put in the effort, it was Liam who intercepted the gathered magical power and used it as his own. No one else in Greenwich could imitate such a crude and dangerous method. He wondered anew if it was fortunate that Liam Moore belonged to Greenwich.

Owen was confused.

“Hurry up, won’t you?”

Leaning on his sword, Liam showed a mischievous smile.

When the altars across London collapsed, he would gather the dispersing power here using Greenwich’s strength. Like continuously shoveling coal. It wouldn’t be difficult to slightly divert the direction of power meant for the Black King.

“Find and destroy the medium before I finish.”

“Don’t need to tell me that.”

Owen answered curtly and leaped up. Then he looked down at Liam with a briefly complex expression.

“Take care.”

He stepped on a gas lamp, then jumped again onto a building’s roof. Owen had his own solution, so he’d manage well. If Liam Moore’s method was reckless and physical, that sage had the talent for using his head.

The intercepted power shot skyward through the sword. It would probably be visible from anywhere. The sight of pure white light endlessly rising through the red night sky, splitting it, was not common. His power was only mixed in very slightly anyway.

He could see the top of the rift being sealed. Though the crack was so large the stitching barely showed, the spell’s caster would likely lose momentum if struck.

“Well then…”

It would be nice if they came raging this way. Instead of holding Jane Osmond hostage.

No sooner had he said this than the eyes of a nearby corpse flashed bright yellow. Liam Moore turned his head. Black hair disheveled and flying wildly. Liam smiled fiercely.

“Come on then, Your Majesty.”

* * *

I know too. That this is the craziest of crazy acts.

How much had happened before reaching this decision.

He tried to break my hope, but he was wrong. Everything he did to me became motivation. Can’t do it? Because I’m human anyway?

It hurts my pride. They say pride is useless when dealing with gods, but that’s what I thought.

All this will be my answer to the king’s question. I slowly looked down at my ankle once, then looked at the king. And reached out to grasp the air.

“So that’s your choice after all?”

He asked calmly while looking at me.

“Of all the many choices, why this?”

“I save myself.”

“Even if it becomes an impossible fight?”

“Even if that’s the case.”

He gestured toward me. His manner overflowed with composure. Sweat formed on my hands from tension.

If this were a game I used to enjoy or a movie I occasionally watched, there would be a scene where the protagonist overcomes adversity and wins. But reality isn’t a movie.

Enough idle thoughts. Have to face it, don’t I?

The shadow holding my ankle disappeared. Only then did the sensation of being pressed down vanish. I spun the sword once in my hand and stamped the ground.

The king raised one hand and said to me:

“Left.”

Left? He’s going to strike left? With no context, just saying “left” – how am I supposed to react?

While I hesitated briefly, a handful of black sand flew straight at my head. It was clumped sharply like a spear, but instantly lost power and passed by, lightly hitting my head. But you don’t know how unpleasant it is to have your face hit by clumps of sand.

“You’re not just mocking…”

“What fight can I have with a child who only knows how to grip and swing? It would at least be fun if you had the basics.”

So he’s going to train me to use as a punching bag? Because I’m no different from a novice user with basic equipment, it’s not fun from the boss’s perspective?

‘This insufferable…’

What kind of game boss is this?

But before I could feel dissatisfied, he immediately warned again:

“Center.”n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

“Ah!”

With a burst of irritation, I threw the sword. This was my first time testing whether this sword that always returned to me would come back the same way when thrown, or disappear in mid-air.

The sharp sand spear flying toward the center collided with the sword.

Clang!

A loud sound rang out, splitting London’s night sky.