If I had to pinpoint just one terrifying thing about mages, it would be this: their magic doesn't fall on the same spectrum as my daily life.
I can more or less understand the logic behind swinging a sword and cutting something, but I can't begin to fathom the logic behind a mage snapping their fingers and conjuring fire. Magic apparently follows certain rules, but those rules are invisible to anyone who isn't a mage. It made sense now why Lucia had earned such a grandiose nickname as "Thousand Transformations."
Termu chanted an incantation. Even then, I had absolutely no idea what kind of magic he was attempting.
"Gh... This is why mages are..."
But it was fine. It was fine—I had the Barrier Ring.
I was standing in front, so I worried about stray attacks hitting Klyus or His Majesty the Emperor, but they were stronger than me and would manage. He was the Emperor, after all.
I squeezed my eyes shut and thrust out my right arm on instinct.
Some spells activate the instant they hit, using the point of impact as an anchor. I was drowning in anxiety, but there was no point running—if everyone else died, I'd be dead too, so I had no choice but to charge in.
The impact that had been rocking the ship suddenly stopped. The Barrier Ring... didn't seem to have triggered?
I slowly peeled open my eyes. What came into view was Termu's stunned expression—the look of a man who'd just weathered some cataclysmic disaster.
"I-Impossible... That can't be. I still have plenty of mana remaining... Why won't the spell activate!?"
Huh? He failed? He chanted that incantation with such confidence and still failed?
Termu had left a glaring opening. If Luke or Riesz were here, they would have pounced on him gleefully—but unfortunately, Franz and the others were down, and I was the only one left who couldn't even hold my own in close combat against a mage. I wished the Emperor would lunge at him.
Kechachachaka took a step backward, as though overwhelmed by sheer pressure despite having done nothing.
"Ukeke... What did... you..."
"Could it be—this storm's power!? The formula won't stabilize!?"
Termu panicked and made his bracelet glow, but I could never use magic properly anyway, so everything felt as comfortable as always.
I didn't understand what had happened, but it seemed I'd been saved. However, this storm—I'd assumed it was Termu's doing if he was the enemy, but apparently not.
And once again, it looked like I'd been the one who did something. A false accusation, through and through.
"Huh? A storm? Don't blame everything on me. I didn't do anything..."
"Damn it..."
Termu burst into motion. Lines of light coursed through his flesh like veins—a body-strengthening spell. It seemed not all of his magic had been sealed.
Body enhancement was a mage's trump card, saved for desperate moments. It placed enormous strain on the body, and no matter how much you boosted yourself, it couldn't match someone who'd been honing their physical abilities daily through Mana Material—someone in a close-combat profession. That was why it was also called a "last-ditch effort."
"!?? ??? Weakling, I can't use magic either, desu!?"
"Me neither."
Termu moved with a agility that belied his age. He lowered his center of gravity and bore down on me—looking, in that moment, not unlike a Thief . The gap in experience, in the countless battlefields he'd waded through, was simply too vast.
On instinct, I activated the Finger Shot slung on both hands without a shred of restraint. The magic bullets—flashy only in color—rained down on Termu like a storm. They carried附加 effects, but those were barely worth mentioning.
Termu dodged the bullets, which held almost no destructive power, with a sideways leap. He tore a sword from a fallen knight's body and hurled it at me in one fluid motion.
The blade flew straight at my head, but as always, the Barrier Ring deflected it. Remaining Barrier Rings—five.
Termu drew a sharp breath. He'd surely grasped by now how weak the Finger Shot's power was. The fact that he'd gone out of his way to dodge them so dramatically meant— Despite my dwindling Barrier Rings, I wore a relaxed expression and looked down at Termu, who was breaking into a cold sweat. I put on a brave face.
"Looks like you can't even erect a barrier."
He probably could've weathered them without bother—Termu was that capable—but several of the bullets carried paralyzing effects, so dodging was the right call. (Incidentally, they didn't work on anyone who'd absorbed a decent amount of Mana Material.)
At my deductive reasoning, Termu panted heavily, backing away cautiously while keeping his eyes locked on me.
"You monster..."
You've got to be kidding me. To think there'd come a day when someone like Termu—who could defeat an entire squad of elite guards just by walking into a room—would call *me* that. From behind, Klyus prodded my back.
"Weakling, don't let your guard down, desu! Take him down already, desu!"
"..."
If only he'd clobber Termu with that staff I'd lent him. Klyus, who couldn't use magic, was probably stronger than me, who fundamentally couldn't use it either.
But what could I do? Restraining a mage required bindings with mana-sealing properties—and even those didn't work on high-level mages. On top of that, capturing a mage who'd absorbed a massive amount of Mana Material was extraordinarily difficult. They always had trump cards you'd never see coming. That was why battles against high-level mage criminals, though rare, usually ended with one side dead.
For some reason—conveniently—Termu couldn't use proper magic either, so I flashed him a hard-boiled grin and said: "Termu, I don't want to kill the right hand of 'Abyssal Fire Annihilation,' even nominally. Throw away that bracelet and surrender."
It wasn't that I was particularly interested in the Treasure Weapon.
Termu was a seasoned mage. But his power was propped up by that Treasure Weapon bracelet.
For a mage, a staff served as both an amplifier and a control unit. Just as Klyus couldn't cast proper magic with an unfamiliar staff, Termu's power would diminish dramatically if he lost his.
My words twisted Termu's refined features, baring his fighting spirit.
Just as Termu opened his mouth to speak, Kechachachaka behind us said something in a tone more composed than I'd ever heard from them: "Ukeke... Termu... Heehee... The dragon isn't coming. We should retreat. For now."
"...Damn it."
Why did allies always seem to grow stronger when they became enemies, and enemies weaker when they switched sides? You were saying nothing but "ukekeke" until just the other day!
Without a moment to waste, Termu pivoted. He kicked down the door with speed that put any front-liner to shame and bolted out of the room. Kechachachaka followed.
All I could do was watch them go. If I pursued, I'd lose. I could unleash the Dog Chain, but I'd never capture a Level 7. It would just get broken, and that would be that.
"Weakling, after them, desu!"
"Calm down, Klyus. They can wait. Life takes priority—Franz and the others need treatment!"
Klyus shoved my back and shouted. I dodged the demand almost reflexively.
§ Fortunately, supplies had been distributed across each room. In my place—since I wasn't much good at this sort of thing—Klyus briskly prepared potions and made the collapsed guards drink them.
It seemed that even those who'd been taken down in an instant weren't dead yet.
After drinking the potion Citry had specially prepared, their complexions improved and their breathing steadied in short order. Klyus let out a relieved sigh.
"It wasn't purely destructive magic, was it, desu?"
"Hah... hah... But I couldn't move. I couldn't muster any strength..."
Franz, the only one who'd remained conscious, wiped cold sweat from his face and spoke.
Termu was a water mage. Water magic was known for having lower destructive power compared to other elements.
That said, that only applied relative to its mana consumption—it wasn't as though he couldn't deal damage at all. But Termu's magic had been remarkably quiet, with almost no telltale signs, and it seemed laser-focused on efficiency.
It was the polar opposite of the flashy "Abyssal Fire Annihilation" that burned everything to cinders. Perhaps he'd tailored his approach specifically to counter Abyssal Fire Annihilation.
"He was directly manipulating the water inside our bodies—just slightly. An unbelievable feat of skill. Even Lapis couldn't do it, desu."
Klyus's voice was grave.
It was basic magic theory, so I knew this, but directly affecting magic inside another person's body was exceedingly difficult.
The human body, to a greater or lesser degree, possessed resistance to magic. Overcoming that resistance and halting life functions required an immense amount of mana—which was why mages generally didn't bother. Dropping a thunderbolt or conjuring flames was far easier.
In that sense, Termu—who had incapacitated multiple people by manipulating their insides in an instant—was unquestionably a top-tier mage.
My auto-triggering Barrier Rings could block such attacks, but if caught off guard, there'd be no way to defend.
Franz staggered to his feet. The other soldiers didn't have that much left in them yet.
The immediate threat to our lives had passed, but against Termu and Kechachachaka, our fighting force was woefully insufficient.
His Majesty the Emperor, even in a moment like this, didn't show a flicker of unease. He settled into his chair and addressed me.
"So, what now? Is there any chance of winning?"
"Of course there's a chance, desu. Right, Weakling? Desu?"
Those sharp eyes pinned me down, Klyus sought my agreement, but I was too comfortable to feel much tension.
If I had to say whether there was a chance or not—there wasn't. I was also worried about the other crew members who might be lying unconscious elsewhere in the ship, but I didn't have the leeway to check.
At least the carpet was unharmed. It might even be the most energetic one here. So if worst came to worst, we could just run. That was all there was to it.
"Klyus, can you... fly? Like, in the air?"
"I can fly—but with this staff! It's impossible! Desu!"
"...That's not a staff. It's a translator."
"!? Hah!?"
Klyus was smacking the "Round World" device repeatedly. I quietly averted my gaze. I never imagined it would come to this.
What should I do? I didn't know. I didn't even fully understand what was happening. What a mess.
Not knowing what to do, I pulled a chunk of smoked meat from the supplies and placed it near the Kirnight, who was (presumably) collapsed from hunger and twitching on the ground.
Stay calm. When making a ruckus wouldn't help, you had to stay calm.
I crossed my arms and closed my eyes. It was very comfortable.
...That's right! If I could buy enough time, maybe my beloved sheet-ghost friends would come to the rescue? Luke and the others always came through for me.
Lost in complete denial of reality, I was jolted by Klyus's sharp voice.
"!? Weakling! Behind you!"
I opened my eyes in a flash and looked at my feet. At some point, a small shadow had crouched down beside the fallen Kirnight.
It was a child. A human child. Riesz was small, but this was smaller still. A loose, pure-white robe-like garment. Thin, outstretched arms picked up the smoked meat I'd placed and brought it to a tiny mouth, which chewed away at it.
There were no children aboard this airship. The sight was bizarre, yet a chill didn't run down my spine. It was because I was so comfortable.
Still, that didn't erase my astonishment.
The child hadn't uttered a word. But Klyus and the others had gone pale. The Emperor's eyes were wide and frozen. Even the carpet was docile, as though frightened.
White hair, long—the gender was impossible to tell. The upper half of the head was covered by a strange white mask.
Smooth, glossy texture, with two "ears" protruding upward. Simpler than the symbol of the Mourning Specter I'd designed, yet somehow it conveyed a strange impression of being "transcendent."
That face gazed up at me. The mask had no eye holes. And yet, I was being watched.
There was no chance of winning. That was simply what this creature was.
A chill should have seized me. Just as humans fear death, I should have felt that same primal dread.
But I remained comfortable as ever. Next time... maybe I should have my escort wear this shirt.
A memory surfaced. The last time I'd encountered one of these had also been during a strange storm.
I'd run into so many storms by now that I hadn't noticed at all, but of course—it apparently arrived accompanied by storms.
I'd heard there'd been no sightings since then. But of course—flying through the sky, nobody would ever see it.
I'd been told I'd never encounter one again in my lifetime, and yet here it was once more... I really was unlucky.
Fully aware that my sense of danger had gone completely numb, I raised my head.
Outside the window, the storm that had spread across the sky moments ago was gone. No—the entire world that had existed moments ago had vanished without a trace.
What lay beyond was pure, absolute white. A Treasure Hall was an otherworld reconstructed from Mana Material. A low-density Treasure Hall resembled the real world, but a high-level Treasure Hall was different. It was a true otherworld, governed by its own alien rules, utterly disconnected from reality. The fact that magic wouldn't activate—that was probably why.
I was far too slow on the uptake.
Smiling wryly at a realization that had come far too late, the strange child wearing the "fox" mask—the "Phantom"—curved its mouth into a smile, as if drawn by my own.
Beyond the door through which Termu and Kechachachaka had bolted, the scene had shifted into something entirely different.
We'd collided. We'd been swallowed. Finally, I understood what was happening.
The fox child spoke. The voice that emerged was thin and halting, the intonation strange and unfamiliar, but it was unmistakably our language.
"Welcome. Don't be afraid."
The slightly parted mouth within was red, like flame.
This was the final result of a Treasure Hall that had grown far too powerful. A bizarre locale that wandered the world. A living nightmare.
With its extreme difficulty and the formidable Phantom that nested in its deepest reaches, no explorer had ever conquered it—truly virgin territory. Estimated certified Level 10.
They learned, they roamed, they toyed and played.
The Wandering Refuge—that was what this strange Treasure Hall was called.
"I'm grateful."
"Liar."
They were gods. One of the great gods that reigned over this world. I'd survived once, but there was no prospect of surviving a second time.
Defeat was impossible. The only recourse available to such insignificant humans was—negotiation. That was what gods were.
At the words that had tumbled out of me on instinct, the fox's kin deepened its smile.
"It's not a lie."