“Hm.”
The man smiled as if intrigued.
“Well, even if you keep acting tough.”
His smile deepened.
Just then,
“Kh—!”
Pielot doubled over in racking pain.
From the place the arrow had pierced, pain and heat surged up.
“It’s not a poison you can grit your teeth through. Ahahaha!”
The man laughed out loud.
Laughing, he set an arrow to the bowstring, drew, and loosed.
“!”
Seeing that, Pielot reflexively rolled across the ground.
Swiish—
'Damn.'
Realizing his mistake mid-roll, he came up to his feet and snatched the arrow that flashed right before his eyes.
An arrow that bent along a clearly impossible trajectory to come at him.
The manifestation of “Sure Shot.”
“Wow, impressive. You can grab a flying arrow after a single roll.”
The man marveled. There was a tinge of mockery, but the surprise was real.
'Reflexes and reaction speed hard to believe of a human. And a light aura wrapped that hand as it snatched the arrow. Taken together, those traits are less human and more...'
The man asked,
“Are you actually a demon?”
“......?”
“Or a half-blood with a demon?”
“What nonsense. I’m human.”
Pielot dismissed it as preposterous.
He looked at the arrow he had caught.
It showed no sign of moving now, as if it had lost its power. Pielot set the arrow down. It shouldn’t be able to move on its own anymore.
'This ability—no doubt about it.'
Seeing the second arrow, Pielot was convinced.
'It’s the same as the arrows Senior uses.'
Forcing himself through the pain that kept boring into him, Pielot recalled.
'What did Senior Frondier say again? This ability definitely...'
Pielot had once asked about the ability of the bow Frondier wielded.
He brought to mind Frondier’s explanation then.
—This ability has ranks.
Sure Shot, as its name says, “hits without fail,” but even with the same name, performance differs from weapon to weapon.
At low rank, it merely provides some aim correction if the archer sights the target properly. The arrow cannot fly beyond the bow’s innate range, and since it traces a gentle arc, it’s often blocked en route.
At a better rank, it will surely hit within range; better still, it can exceed range; better yet, the arrow will reach whatever the archer set eyes on. Frondier’s Chryselakatos is like this.
And at the highest rank of Sure Shot, there are cases where it pierces the enemy’s body regardless of blocks or attempts to break the arrow. That is, the instant it is loosed, perforation becomes inevitable.
Such weapons are extremely hard to find even among Divine tier; from all the game information Frondier had compiled, Odin’s “Gungnir” was the only one. Among bows, he had yet to see any.
Of course, Frondier’s knowledge was limited to the continent of Falind, so here in Agoris there might be more—but a weapon with top-rank Sure Shot is that rare. The overwhelming majority of humanity doesn’t even know it exists.
'That first shot came from a truly vast distance. And it bent at an extreme angle toward Ms. Selena, who had transferred.'
Pielot looked at the demon’s bow.
He could clearly feel unusual mana. He understood what it meant for rank to impose force.
'But if someone at close range can substitute themselves in to take the hit, then it’s a touch lower grade than Senior Frondier’s bow.'
The Chryselakatos Frondier uses can have its arrows blocked or batted away, but you cannot “take it in someone’s stead.” Even if you throw your body forward, the arrow will avoid that and hit the original target.
Moreover, Chryselakatos exhibits its true power because it is one with its paired arrow, Iokeira. That thing there is plainly inferior—merely a bow with an ability.
“For a demon, you’re carrying a grandiose weapon.”
“Ah, this thing?”
The demon lifted the bow and shrugged as if it were nothing.
“You have to bring at least this much. Don’t you think?”
“......”
Pielot didn’t answer, but what he’d just heard settled his certainty.
'As expected—they know our general capabilities.'
The current situation laid on Frondier’s party.
Under normal circumstances, with Frondier at your side, it would be exceedingly difficult for anyone to end up in a situation this dangerous.
Heukcheon, which can respond instantly within the range of his intuition, and that intuition, which most precisely senses killing intent within its radius. Frondier has various weapons, but with those two alone, offense and defense are nearly perfect.
On top of that, Elodie and Selena each excel at detection in their own ways.
With exhaustive reconnaissance and planning, the enemy’s preemptive strike had succeeded.
'No—not quite. Since I took the hit in his place and got dragged here, call it half a success.'
Meanwhile, the demon said,
“It’d be best if you didn’t move much. The more you do, the faster the poison spreads.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
“So, when do you die? It’s not a poison a human can endure.”
“......Don’t be ridiculous.”
Pielot put on bravado.
The poison was already eating away at him bit by bit.
He intuited it. This wasn’t the kind of poison that resolves if left alone. The longer it was left, the more surely it would kill him.
A nauseating pain as if maggots were boiling inside his body, gnawing the interior. His mind kept vomiting up images of death.
It was natural the man looked so at ease.
“Well, you’ll die if I leave you as is, and watching that would be plenty entertaining—”
Saying so, the man drew the bowstring again. This time he took out two arrows and set them at once.
“I’m a bit busy, you see.”
Piiing—!
With those words, two arrows were loosed.
Since they’ll reach the target as long as you roughly aim, simultaneous arrow fire is possible.
With no time gap between them, if you block one of the two arrows flying in, the other will pierce your body.
Just before that—
Pielot slid one foot back and dropped his shoulder.
His hand touched the hilt at his hip.
Thunk—
The two arrows broke and fell, each near Pielot.
“......Huh?”
For a moment, the demon couldn’t grasp what had happened.
He’d expected one arrow might be broken. That level of thrashing was to be expected.
But both arrows were snapped and scattered.
'With a single sword, two arrows on completely different trajectories...?'
And astonishingly, even to his eyes, the sword’s path had been invisible.
Pielot had already returned to his sheathed stance.
'They say a sword swung with single-minded focus by an expert at the extreme of mastery cannot be seen. A speed even a demon’s eyes can’t follow.'
That much he understood. If he were to concede a hundred times and grant that the human was such a swordsman, then yes—perhaps the swing could be unseen.
But to not only miss the draw and cut from the scabbard, but also not see the sword being recovered and resheathed afterward?
“......You’re something else.”
The demon laughed with a mix of fear and excitement.
If Pielot had been in perfect condition, the one to die here would have been himself—imagining that birthed fear.
But in this very moment, with Pielot on his last legs, came the expectation that he could ravage him—that bred excitement.
“I was going to finish quickly and go, but I’ve changed my mind.”
The demon lowered his bow and straightened his back. With a light inhalation,
“Having met a strong one, I shall give a proper introduction! My name is—”
“Shut up.”
Pielot cut him off.
The demon’s expression crumpled.
“What?”
“There’s no name of yours I care to hear. I won’t remember it.”
Pielot’s abdominal pain and the demon’s voice, which scraped his nerves, kept grating on his ears.
In a dying state that was counting down aloud, with neither Frondier nor Elodie there to hold him back, and an enemy he absolutely had to kill stood before him.
On top of that, his heart and stance had already completed their preparations for battle.
'Ah. No.'
Layered worst moods and the fact that no one was there to restrain him—
Pielot felt himself little by little returning to the past.
“You—”
His voice changed.
Knowing it was his own voice, Pielot nonetheless felt a certain fondness for it.
“Do you name every piece of trash you throw away?”
A cold voice. A gaze that looked down on the other.
An egocentric gait that leveled all people equally from on high, as if proclaiming that the greatest talent on this earth was himself.
A nature close to his inborn self, long pressed down, slowly overflowed.
“What’s the point of hearing the name of someone who’s about to die. It’s only pitiful.”
“......Ha.”
At the absurd words, the demon let out a dry laugh.
He had been pierced by an arrow, the “poison” had spread, and he was in no state to move freely. Meanwhile the demon held a bow, and Pielot’s sword couldn’t reach him.
In this situation, he said that.
Moreover, earlier it had been bluff—but this time, he meant it.
“......Fine.”
The demon drew an arrow.
“If you insist, I’ll kill you like tha—”
In the instant he lifted his arm for a brief aim,
“Huh?”
Pielot vanished.
Claaang!
“!”
Startled, the demon whirled around.
The makeshift barrier he had prepared just in case shattered, and Pielot’s shadow fell chill from above his head.
“—Hup!”
The demon rolled backward.
A slick, unpleasant sensation seeped into his leg; widening the gap again, he looked at Pielot.
'...Tch, nicked me a little.'
He checked his thigh. Blood running from a long line. Pielot’s blade had touched him.
“Was that the setup? Too bad. Almost worked.”
Hiding his cold sweat, the demon spoke.
A barrier formed with mana. Truthfully, it wasn’t made with Pielot in mind. It was prepared to guard against a sudden strike from another foe.
He hadn’t even considered it would be broken by the opponent facing him head-on.
“But well, now—”
On the contrary, the demon felt relieved.
Because that attack had failed.
“Ghh—!”
Pielot hacked out a harsh cough.
He spat blood.
“Cough! Cough! Kh, ghah!”
Each cough came with pain like his body was being torn apart, which made the blood surge back up and spill out.
“Ahahaha! I told you not to move!”
The demon laughed as if delighted.
When his thigh was nicked, he’d felt a chill—yet like this, he stood even more firmly on higher ground.
Having tasted the price of moving, the human wouldn’t be able to twitch a /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ finger now.
“Kh—huff, ngh......!”
Pielot barely calmed his breath. Barely—no, he forcibly set his body in order.
Then, a voice flew at him.
[Pielot, what’s flowing inside your body isn’t poison.]
A voice he hadn’t heard in a very long time.
'......Hypnos.'
It was Hypnos, the god who had granted Pielot divine power.
He said,
[It’s mana from the Demon Realm.]
“......!”
At that voice, Pielot’s eyes widened.
[When a human takes in mana from another world, an immense rejection reaction occurs. The images, smells, sensations contained in that world get crumpled up in chaos and overrun the body. You’re only enduring because it’s from the Demon Realm. If what’s roaming your body were mana from Tartarus or Helheim, you’d have died instantly.]
On the continent of Falind, there had been the mana infusion incident, but that didn’t mean mana could be shuttled around freely between fundamentally different targets. In that case it had at least been human-to-human, and they’d nearly eliminated side effects.
But when it’s an entirely different world, even that is impossible. Moreover, each world lies at a distance close to a concept; the farther that distance, the harder they are to accept each other.
[Now then, start to realize it, Pielot.]
Hypnos’s voice sounded.
[You were abandoned by Frondier.]
“......!”
[Ever since you started obeying Frondier’s words, I left your side. Because that wasn’t the form of you I desired. Frondier removed your true strength.]
Piiing—!
Another arrow.
Time flowed even while Hypnos prattled on.
To see if Pielot could still move, the demon sent an arrow—and Pielot cut that arrow once again.
More than probing, this time it was clear the demon aimed to toy with Pielot.
[But look. Even though you’ve been pierced by an arrow and mana of the Demon Realm is spreading through your whole body and you’re on the verge of death, Frondier has no intention of coming. Yet you are regaining your original self. Your talent has not gone to waste. You already possessed talent surpassing Aster or Frondier. It was Frondier who stamped out that sprout.]
Piiing—!
This time two. Each on its own trajectory; just as before, Pielot cut them.
Even anticipating that result, the demon still cocked his head.
How in the world was that possible?
Pielot was in a state where it wouldn’t be strange if he collapsed at any moment, yet he still couldn’t track the blade with his eyes.
[Put everyone under your feet, Pielot! That is rightful! Your inherent nature draws out your greatest power! Stand above humans! That is the true form of the arrogance you possess—]
“Hypnos.”
Pielot cut Hypnos off.
Just as he had with the demon moments earlier.
In a truly arrogant voice—as Hypnos himself had said.
“You shut up, too.”
