45: Green Death
Liz stood before me.
A small, relieved smile played on her lips.
My desperate resistance, my petty act of defiance, had bought us some time. A few seconds later, and I would have been dead.
Her gaze swept over me, assessing my injuries, then stopped at the wound on my shoulder. Her eyes narrowed, the light fading from them.
“You’re injured.”
“A cut. What about you, Liz?”
There was a large gash on her back. A deep, untreated wound.
“…Just a scratch.”
That’s definitely a lie.
“—I’ll eliminate him. Please step back.”
“…Alright, I’ll leave it to you.”
I wasn’t a warrior.
That was why I had her.
Liz moved first.
She glided to the right, then threw her right-hand knife.
The white knight deflected the spinning blade with ease—then, barely managed to parry Liz’s left-hand knife, thrown a fraction of a second later.
In that brief opening, Liz kicked up her skirt, drawing a throwing dagger from her thigh, and hurled it at the knight. It pierced his armpit.
Armor had gaps. It had to, for mobility.
But the enemy was moving.
How many people possessed the skill to target those fleeting gaps in the heat of battle?
But a flash of pale green light, and the dagger slipped out, leaving a trail of blood.
“…How troublesome.”
Liz flicked her fingers, sending the knives that had been thrown and deflected, now embedded in the floor and wall, flying through the air. She caught them effortlessly, her movements fluid and graceful, a sight to behold.
“I am protected by the dragon’s blessing.”
“The dragon’s blessing…?” Liz murmured.
“A power granted to those chosen to destroy the demons.” The white knight spoke with confidence.
“You’re too careless, assuming you have no allies nearby. —You should have said ‘to save humanity.’ That’s why your means and your ends are so easily reversed.”
If it were ‘to save humanity,’ then the idea of ‘using humans from another world’ would be wrong.
But if it were ‘to destroy the demons,’ then that monstrous idea became justifiable.
Even though destroying the demons wouldn’t actually save humanity.
“What—”
The moment his attention shifted towards me, Liz moved, a shadow slipping in from the periphery of his vision. She drove both knives into the slits of his visor, from behind.
His body convulsed—and Liz released her grip, jumping back.
A pale, green light.
The light, already seared into her memory, flared. Blood gushed from the slits of his visor, and the knives clattered to the floor. Liz snatched them from the air before they landed, repositioning her grip.
“Impressive regenerative abilities. But to be distracted by my master’s words, to take your eyes off the enemy before you…”
Liz’s sweet voice, laced with mockery, had a sharp edge.
But I was just trying to distract him for a moment. The fact that you could do that in less than two seconds is what’s impressive, Liz.
But even more impressive was the white knight, who, despite the blood streaming from his eyes like tears, calmly raised his sword again.
“I will not lose… Justice is on our side.”
He wasn’t wrong. But we had our own justice, too.
And the presence, or absence, of justice didn’t determine victory or defeat.
“If you’re so proud of your regenerative abilities… I’ll just have to keep killing you.”
Liz’s words were reassuring. But blood was still flowing from the wound on her back, soaking the back of her skirt. She couldn’t fight a prolonged battle.
I couldn’t figure out the trick to his regeneration. So, we had no choice but to kill him, on his terms.
Then, an idea struck me.
“—Liz. Can you restrain him?”
“Master?”
I couldn’t say much. So, I simply repeated my question.
“Can you restrain him?”
“—I will.”
Liz lunged. Blades clashed, sparks flying.
She pressed her attack, using the maneuverability of her shorter knives against his longsword in the close-quarters combat. The knight countered with an armored knee.
“I’ve seen that before.” Liz deflected the blow with her foot, sweeping his leg out from under him.
She dropped her knives and fell to the ground, wrapping her legs around his—a perfect joint lock. A figure-four leglock.
Joint locks should be effective against a human. The joint structures of humans and dark elves were the same. Far more similar than beastmen, who had different skeletal structures.
The white knight struggled, trying to break free, but Liz wouldn’t allow it.
“Liz, keep him restrained.”
“Yes. But I can’t hold him for long.”
While she had him in a joint lock, he had regenerative abilities.
If he could withstand the pain, if he was willing to let his joints break, he could force his way out.
It would take an extraordinary level of resolve, but it also took an extraordinary level of resolve to infiltrate enemy territory and target a supreme commander with a small team.
And Liz was injured. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead.
I raised the broken staff. Even without the mana-infused gem, the staff itself was a conduit for magic. It would help with the spell I was about to cast.
“[Create Ooze].”
A blob of pale green ooze materialized at the end of my staff and plopped onto the knight.
“Master? What are you—?!”
“Keep him still. [Create Ooze].”
Another blob. This one landed on the knight’s helmet, the ooze from the first blob squeezing through the gaps in his visor.
I’d ‘drunk’ ooze before. Natural ooze was sometimes used medicinally, diluted with water, for its digestive benefits and nutritional value.
It was always diluted twentyfold.
And the ooze summoned for bathing was also ‘loosened’ with heat to reduce its viscosity.
The knight’s body convulsed, and Liz tightened her hold.
“[Create Ooze].”
I continued chanting.
“[Create Ooze].”
“[Create Ooze].”
“[Create Ooze].”
“[Create Ooze].”
“[Create Ooze].”
“[Create Ooze].”
“[Create Ooze].”
“[Create Ooze].”
The knight’s body twitched with each new blob. His face, hidden behind the visor, must have been contorted in agony.
The agony of suffocation.
The pale green light flickered repeatedly, enveloping the knight. Each time, his body convulsed, struggling against Liz’s hold.
“[Create Ooze].”
“[Create Ooze].”
“[Create Ooze].”
“[Create Ooze].”
“[Create Ooze].”
“[Create Ooze].”
“[Create Ooze]…”
I continued chanting.
The ooze, accumulating around his head, coalesced into a large, pulsating puddle. The flickering green light abruptly ceased. The knight’s body went still.
“…Master…?” Liz’s voice trembled.
“Liz, hold him a little longer.”
“Y-yes…” The light had returned to Liz’s eyes. She was breathing heavily.
I maintained my grip on the staff, watching.
There was no movement.
“…I believe… it’s done.”
“Yes. But don’t let your guard down.”
“Right.” Liz released the joint lock and stood up. She brushed the ooze off her arm.
Then she winced, the movement aggravating her wound.
“Master, are you alright?”
“I’ll manage.”
The pain, which had been masked by the adrenaline and the cold rage, now throbbed in my shoulder.
“What about you?”
“I can move. I’m fine.”
She was clearly more seriously injured than I was, but I’d probably said the same thing, so I decided not to comment. They said married couples started to resemble each other. Perhaps the same was true for masters and servants.
The important thing was that we were both alive.
…Both of us.
I glanced at Samarkand’s body.
He had truly given his life. The words “even at the cost of my own life,” which I’d heard so many times… had been true for him.
I looked away, a bitter taste in my mouth.
Then,
“What about the ones inside?”
“I don’t know… there’s no response.” A voice called out from the window.
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