EP.280 The Blessed Land, The Cursed Humans - 3
Captain Abby closed her eyes and unfolded her Innate Demon Art. Dozens of vines stretched out in all directions. The morning glory vines, spreading without distinguishing between walls and ceilings, soon reached the signalers.
The signalers had shut their minds due to the unprecedented situation, but Captain Abby persistently reached out to them. Eventually, the signalers each unfolded their Innate Demon Arts and synchronized with Captain Abby.
‘Communication request from Signaler Abby.’
‘Signaler Abby is the key figure who led the hostile entity here. Request denied.’
‘Counterargument. If she has the means to explain the current situation, this module must collect it.’
While the other side was scrambling, Captain Abby conveyed her strong will through her Innate Demon Art.
‘Signaler Abby demands! At this very moment, it is a state of emergency for the Military Nation, including you! Return to your respective rooms immediately and respond to communications!’
Synchronization magic is mutual. If one side is influenced, this side must also be influenced.
However, those with firm convictions are not swept away by minor influences. Captain Abby steadily encroached upon the signalers. Following Captain Abby's orders, the signalers returned to their respective rooms.
[Abby!]
It seemed the communication had reached Eimedel as well. Historia grabbed onto Eimedel, who looked ready to charge this way. Naturally, two gunshots targeted Eimedel's face. Busy defending his face with his wings, Eimedel missed his timing.
Good. It seems he's wary of Captain Abby.
"Then my job is to stall until Captain Abby finishes her work?"
Stalling. That's always the only thing I can do...
As I muttered self-deprecatingly, the angel's wings shook unnaturally. For a moment, I thought a pure white feather came flying this way with a *pweet* sound.
A cowardly long-range attack? Perhaps because it was his wings that moved, I couldn't even grasp it with my mind-reading!
As I faltered, caught off guard, Azi shot up like lightning and snatched the feather. Landing gracefully, Azi chewed and crushed the soft feather, barking triumphantly.
"Woof!"
"...Good boy, Azi."
He can't fight that thing, but he tears into its feathers just fine. Well, he is the King of Beasts. When I praised him with genuine sincerity for the first time in a while, Azi barked vigorously.
"Leave it to me! Go!"
"Don't rush me. If I go in recklessly, I'll die."
"Woof? You can't die! Live!"
"Talk is cheap. You're not even fighting the angel yourself..."
"I yield!"
I almost got angry, but thinking about it rationally, he's right. Right. It's the same for me; I can't fight either.
Still, I felt like I could provide some other help. If not with strength, then with wisdom.
I unfurled the Queen of Cloth. Right in the middle of this precious fabric that saved my life from the angel, there was a hideous hole. It hurts my heart to see it wasted, but now is the time to use even this as an opportunity.
With my left hand, I took out a card and transformed it into a skewer. Holding the skewer with a twirl, I gouged out the hole. At the same time, I imbued my right hand with magical power. Drawing a transmutation circle with a blue light, I attempted an extremely condensed alchemy.
"Set. Li. Alke."
I cut the Queen of Cloth, centering around the hole. I pressed down hard on the square-cut fabric with all my might and rolled it into a round shape. My skill at rolling magic herbs was still intact, so the Queen of Cloth was rolled quite firmly.
An extremely, extremely basic alchemy that only changes the form while leaving the material's structure intact. The shape is crude, but it's enough for Historia to use.
"Ria! Catch!"
I threw the roundly rolled Queen of Cloth to Historia. Having just broken free from Eimedel with perfect timing, Historia reached her hand back without looking and caught it.
Historia confirmed what was in her hand and muttered.
"...Magic herb?"
"It's a bullet! Shoot!"
Historia's gun is not constrained by specifications. Her gun detonates compressed ki cavities, so it doesn't need gunpowder, and even if the size doesn't match the muzzle, it can be forcefully shoved in and fired.
[Don't even think about it!]
Eimedel charged as if he wouldn't even give her a chance to load. Four wings lunged from all directions.
However, Historia's loading is just as special as her gunfire. She flicked the bullet with her fingers and leaped into the air to dodge the attack. While jumping, she even performed the feat of snatching the bullet into the muzzle. The bullet went inside, going against the bore.
It was a forceful loading one might only see in the era of muskets. Historia's pistol already had a few bullets inside, but ignoring the order, the bullet I made was loaded.
[For that which originated from the earth to lift its feet off the ground...! How absurd!]
The wings chased after Historia. It was a speed difficult to comprehend with the naked eye. Having leaped into the air, she absolutely could not dodge.
But if she had intended to dodge, she wouldn't have jumped into the air in the first place.
Even without knowing what I had prepared, Historia trusted my bullet. Was it a calculation that she couldn't win anyway? Or did she trust me too much? From the start, she had been pumping the gun full of ki cavities, just waiting for the bullet.
Now that the bullet was there, she only had to shoot. Historia naturally aimed the muzzle.
"Shoot!"
*Thump.* Perhaps because it was made of fabric, this gunshot sound was dull. The roundly rolled cloth was sucked into the angel's wing. The surging feathers collided with the bullet.
At that moment, a pure white light burst forth.
The Queen of Cloth, a precious fabric that swallows light on the inside and reflects it on the outside. The bullet made by cutting it pierced through the angel's light and scattered it in all directions.
The bullet, which completely blew up one wing, narrowly missed and embedded itself in the ceiling. Now the angel only had five wings.
Success. I just need to make five more!
Just as a faint smile formed on my mouth.
[Petty tricks...]
A new wing sprouted from behind the angel's back. I felt hollow and muttered.
"How am I a scammer? That's the real scam."
The angel seemed quite displeased at having his wing torn off, turning his head toward me and growling.
[With a tool of the human realm that holds no mystery...!]
"No, Hui! This is enough! Even just this...! Ugh!"
Eimedel clung to Historia, who had been shouting desperately. He attacked frantically, violently destroying the walls and floor with his wings.
‘If it's just briefly disrupting the light, there might be a chance! Just three shots! As long as I have enough to use my Principle! Because a zeroed-in shot never misses...!’
Alright. You're saying you need a few more? Three more, that's enough!
I moved my hands busily. My skill at rolling magic herbs hadn't gone anywhere, so three bullets were prepared in an instant. I gauged the movements of Eimedel and Historia and threw the bullets in the direction Historia was retreating. For me, who could read minds, predicting Historia's movements was easy.
Matching that timing, Historia pulled her body back. It was when she shifted her center of gravity backward to catch the bullet I threw.
[How shallow. I can see right through it.]
At that moment, Eimedel spread his wings wide. The angel's body came to an abrupt halt in midair, and he made a sharp turn to target me.
Oh, so he's aiming for the supply line instead of the combat unit. As expected of the Military Nation's angel. His strategy is militaristic too.
Wait, then what about me. Am I screwed?
While I faltered, Eimedel recklessly tore up the ground with his wings and charged with a terrifying momentum. Azi's fur stood on end.
"Hui!"
Realizing this, Historia gripped the bullet and hastily chased after the angel's tail. But Historia didn't have wings, and the angel only grew further away.
Because that was all she could do, Historia aimed her loaded gun. However.
‘It's... only wings.’
The angel's wings extend from his back. Moreover, perhaps because he was wary of Historia, the uppermost wing was covering his back. There was nothing but wings in Historia's line of fire.
‘I mustn't... shoot. Destroying one wing will be all.’
Historia's thoughts flowed rapidly. The retreating enemy. The visible back. The gun in her hand. The ally she must protect. In this crisis, Historia's concentration reached its peak.
However....
‘There is no way.’
The scale of her thoughts gradually tipped toward despair. Her outstretched hand was futile. The enemy was moving, but Historia's hand didn't know how to move.
‘I still have to shoot. If I don't, Hui will die. But how?’
There is no answer. It's desperate. The hand holding the gun wouldn't exert force. The shaking muzzle flashed in her vision.
‘...I'm stronger when I don't shoot. Because the enemy is wary of my bullet.’
Not shooting. Historia had reaped great benefits from that tactic when facing the Spirit Altar. The Spirit Altar avoided entering Historia's line of fire, and thanks to that, Historia could gain the upper hand, as if wielding a sword with an invisible blade.
‘I still have to shoot. Ultimately, they are wary because my bullet will be fired at some point.’
Not shooting is stronger. But I have to shoot.
A contradiction.
Something impossible by the Principles.
However, the last of Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li. Li (離) reaches the Principle. Even if it means twisting the world's Principles, it accomplishes that contradiction.
It is different from the Innate Demon Art. The Innate Demon Art, which overwrites the world with new rules solely from one's own imagery, is so to speak a declaration to the world. It proclaims new rules and places everyone under its dominion.
However, Li (離) is, metaphorically speaking, a tantrum. Throwing a fit at the world, creating a single exception that escapes all natural laws... It is a terribly childish fixation.
Amidst the contradiction, a single image flashed through Historia's mind.
The Regressor. Shei. An absolute powerhouse who wielded an invisible sword and manipulated space freely. Freely extending and shortening the length of his sword, shooting sword qi like a gun.
‘His invisible sword...’
At the moment of life and death, what Historia recalled was the image of the Heavenly Sword (天劍), Cheon-aeng.
Historia adjusted her grip on the gun slightly. The muzzle was not aimed at the angel. It was aimed slightly above that, above the angel's right shoulder.
Shooting like this would miss. However, seized by a strange exhilaration, Historia fired toward that spot.
The bullet 'was not fired'.
But Historia clearly 'fired'.
Within the contradiction, the Principle twists. A crack forms in the air. The bullet did not fly, yet it accomplished every possible result the bullet could have drawn out.
Historia felt a tactile sensation in her sixth sense. Right now, her bullet had clearly 'reached' somewhere. Historia clenched her teeth and swung her pistol. A heavy resistance was felt from the relatively light pistol. It was as heavy as swinging a sword with a 100-meter blade.
One swing.
The gun Historia had driven in—no, the sword. The unfathomable thing that reached amidst the contradiction severed the Principle as it was.
Gun-Sword Total Intent (銃劍總意).
By the time I came to my senses after reading the distant exhilaration Historia was feeling, it was right after the angel, with three wings on his right torn off completely, crashed into the wall while spinning.