Treasure Hunt (10)
Leonardo, who had been standing beside me, rises to his feet. Then, he draws his sword across the ground in front of me.
Behind the line was me, Ferdinand, and Countess Veronica's grave, but Leonardo himself steps outside the line. He creates a space inside the graveyard, like an isolated island, and grips his sword with a solemn posture. It seemed as though he was making a vow to himself.
He swore that nothing would cross this line. If only humans could remain as calm as he did before a disaster, perhaps the outcome of all disasters would be as calm and peaceful as the eye of a storm, unlike the fierce tempest that precedes them.
Those still maintaining human form and those already heavily damaged, mixed together, formed a great wave that rushed toward this place. Finally, when the wall of it surged forward, ready to crush a single person under its weight…
Leonardo took a deep breath and stopped in place. He drew a long horizontal slash with his sword.
Whoosh!
The black blade reflected the pale moonlight and shone white. In an instant, a great wave spread through the air, and the rain that had been pouring down was pushed away.
As the wave of assimilated ones were split in two, like the foam of the sea slowly disappearing, the heads and upper bodies began to disintegrate into ash and scatter. The parts of the black, undulating waves seemed to sink into the ground, collapsing before turning to ash as well.
Swooooosh!
The curtain of air was pushed aside, and the rain, which had seemed to momentarily pause, began pouring down heavily once again. The waves of the dead that surrounded the graveyard froze, as if they were suddenly overwhelmed by this force.
It was hard for me to believe that this scene, which seemed like an impossible miracle, had been created by a human. But if a miracle was achieved with a human body, there would inevitably be a price to pay.
I witnessed Leonardo's chest swell and collapse, his hands trembling with spasms, the flesh of his palm torn as he fed blood to the sword's hilt.
This entire scene reminded me of Act 1—the part that became the source of the nightmare.
The monsters rushing in, Leonardo, standing alone with his sword against them, and the looming threat of reset.
'Ah.'
Now that I think about it, the quality of the prop had been downgraded. At the time, I had been carrying a giant coffin, the body of Leovald.
But now, it's no longer a coffin, but a small stone sarcophagus.
The
"…!"
And then, I realized.
The way to end this interminable and endless night. Amidst the torrential rain, I extended one hand. And I called out.
The body of Leovald.
[Main Author: …Isaac?]
[Sub-writer 1: So it was you after all. I see now that everything I was searching for was you.]
The tilted moon smiled, shifting its gaze.
[Sub-writer 1: You have both the
Ah, I see.
I let out a dry laugh and, under the watching moonlight, I deliberately threw the sarcophagus, with Leovald's body inside, into the wardrobe and then placed it back with my
Then, I drew a dagger and stabbed it beneath my neck.
「Isaac!」
'Stay still.'
[Sub-writer 1: What are you doing?]
"It seems there's something you don't know… Yeah. I have both the
I tapped my head and laughed with a cheerful mood.
"What that means is, if I die here, you won't be able to claim any of this forever, right?"
[Sub-writer 1: …What?]
As expected, that writer doesn't know.
That I'm not a character in this world. That I'm not a subject who can be freely rearranged, revived, and restored according to the rules of the stage.
Therefore.
If I die here, it won't be in a form that can turn to ashes or be reset and restored, but really, truly, my eternal death.
I roll up the sleeve of my right arm and smile faintly. The scars, left behind each time just before a rollback, now served as evidence that I was an anomaly exempt from the rules of rollback.
Ó.L/F.O, during the first rollback incident experienced in the world of the play.
The number of slashes that had increased since then were due to Sub-writer 1 frequently killing and obstructing Vittorio and Leonardo in the underground labyrinth of Sinistra, causing rewinds.
"I'm a person who can't be brought back by rollback. Holy water doesn't heal my wounds; if anything, they are more similar to those things…"
So if a character named 'Isaac' dies here. Leovald's corpse, and somehow, the
If I do this, the writers who want to return Leovald to his body and my personal wish won't come true, but I can destroy everything Sub-writer 1 is aiming for.
Ah, I suddenly remembered that the unique ability of
Maybe the main author and the assistant writer gave this role to me, an out-of-play character who had died once, with this in mind.
The two writers who care for Leovald remain silent.
With the dagger pressed tightly against my neck, I am left alone with the sharp pain of the blade piercing my skin and the burning sensation of the rainwater seeping in. As I look up at the sky, the rain falls directly onto my eyes and cheeks, cooling them.
"So… get lost from here."
I press the dagger a bit harder so he can see it clearly. The pain made me realize I was still alive.
After a long, sustained silence.
[Sub-writer 1: …Unfortunately, I must retreat this time.]
Finally, a declaration of surrender, or something similar, came from the opponent. The stormy weather with dark clouds began to calm down to a drizzle. The things that had dominated the graveyard started to transform, writhing and changing form. Into indifferent and expressionless royal attendants.
Leonardo ran toward me as I staggered and fell to the ground. He immediately tried to stop the bleeding. It seemed I had stabbed myself deeper than I thought, and the blood wouldn't stop flowing.
I felt cold.
Maybe it was because I had been in the rain for too long. Each time I coughed, more blood welled up and flowed out.
"You have to get up. Don't close your eyes…"
I couldn't see Leonardo's face clearly. It was amusing to hear him, who always told me to rest and close my eyes, now saying the opposite. Or maybe I was just so tired that everything seemed funny.
I blinked my blurry eyes and lightly patted his hand. I tried to say, "I'll be okay," but it came out as a gurgling sound.
My eyelids grew heavy, and as I blinked slowly, Leonardo hugged me tightly, trying to warm me. The pressure of the embrace felt oddly comforting, so I leaned into him.
Maybe tonight won't be so cold after all.
The rain was stopping.
***
Celestina and Count Ertinez witnessed the chaotic entities losing their form and dissipating.
Panting heavily, Celestina fell to one knee and collapsed. The count hurriedly supported his daughter and, realizing she had merely fainted from exhaustion, breathed a sigh of relief.
Butier used his warm, healing power to wash away Celestina's fatigue.
"Thank you, Archbishop Butier."
At Count Ertinez' words of gratitude, Butier gave a faint, troubled smile.
"Count Ertinez. We must keep this attack under wraps. It's the day of the Trial of Fasting, and if word gets out that security was briefly compromised, who knows what trouble might follow."
"What about the knights who disappeared from the gate?"
"They went to support the disturbance at the Nidum Tower and were sacrificed there. We just need to disguise it as if this door and the entrance to the tower below were never opened."
Count Ertinez nodded as he looked at the door of the southern tower, which lay broken on the other side of the room. The door had been torn off its hinges, but reattaching it would make it look as good as new.
"Was this the king's doing?"
Count Ertinez' question was met with silence from Archbishop Butier, who simply picked up the unconscious Celestina.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
Left behind, Count Ertinez sighed and began repairing the door using the fragments and legs of a broken table as makeshift nails and a hammer. He had cleared away all those things, whatever they were, disguised as royal guardsmen or something else.
Raul let out a deep breath, "Phew." The strange vitality that had coursed through his entire body and the intense excitement akin to fighting on the front lines finally drained away. Only then did he realize how heavy his body felt.
'I really thought I was going to die.'
But in the end, he survived, and that was what mattered. He staggered to his feet, exhausted. Perhaps having formed a bond through the battle, Vittorio hurried over to help the stumbling Raul. Raul ruffled the boy's hair lightly and glanced ahead.
Sir Orlie, who had been watching them, sheathed his sword and looked up at the sky briefly, a worried expression on his face.
Orlie walked over, deftly twisted the iron bars open with his hands, and left them with a final request.
"…Please keep my visit here a secret from everyone. I beg of you."
"Yeah, sure…"
With that, the holy knight who had willingly imprisoned himself disappeared into the shadows of the building.
Feeling as if his limbs might fall off, Raul let out a deep sigh.
Suddenly, he was dazzled by the light. He looked up to see the dawn breaking, the sky painted in brilliant shades of crimson.
At last, the long night had come to an end.