47: A Common Death in a Peaceful World
My eyes fluttered open.
I stared blankly at the ceiling.
It wasn’t the usual canopied bed. But the room was familiar. Liz’s room. And Liz’s bed.
My room next door was probably a disaster. As were, I imagined, the garden and the entrance hall.
“Master! You’re awake!” Liz, who had been waiting by my bedside, looked down at me.
I’m alive?
Even though I lost Samarkand?
I was his superior, and he was my subordinate.
I was his master, and he was my servant.
And he had become my shield.
Knowing that it had been his choice, his desire, offered little comfort.
I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through my shoulder, and I winced. The wound seemed to have closed, but healing magic wasn’t instantaneous. It would take a few days to fully heal, and I needed to rest.
“How long… was I out?”
“About a day, a little more.”
“Could you… help me up?”
“Yes, my master.” A large, fur-covered hand, surprisingly gentle despite its size, supported my back as I sat up.
“Thank you, Samarkand.” I did a double take.
“…Samarkand?”
The towering figure looming over me.
The glossy black fur.
The crescent moon eyes.
My black goat.
“Liz,” I asked, “am I dead?”
“You’re alive. …Are you alright? Your head, I mean…”
“But Samarkand is right there.”
“Samarkand is also alive.”
“Indeed. Our contract is still in effect, my master.”
At Samarkand’s words, I felt it—the pulse of the contract within my blood.
“…But he was dead…”
“Physically. However, we greater demons… do not die easily. To resurrect our bodies and re-anchor our souls, we require the flesh and soul of the one who killed us… and this time, those conditions were met. Thanks to Liz-sama, and most importantly, to my master’s efforts.”
That’s so cool.
To be resurrected by consuming the flesh and soul of the one who killed you—it made my own contribution, repeatedly summoning ooze, seem rather pathetic.
“Even as my body was destroyed, I heard your words, in my soul. I will not forget that you called me your subordinate… and your friend.”
“I see. I’m glad you’re alive, Samarkand.”
While I’d pulled him into my service partly to prevent his execution, it wasn’t exactly a suitable position for a greater demon. I was truly relieved that he was alive.
I extended my hand.
“Such kind words…” Samarkand took my hand and pressed it to his forehead. He lowered his head, his eyes welling up with tears.
After a moment, he released my hand, stepped back, and bowed respectfully. I turned to Liz.
“…So, what’s the damage?”
“It was a small-scale, forceful intrusion. Good news, no fatalities. There are injuries, including Master’s, and most of the Barghests were killed, but…”
“The Barghests… I see…”
I’d enjoyed petting them, burying myself in their soft fur… an unexpected comfort in this unfamiliar world.
And they… had been killed.
A dark fire ignited within me. The flames of hatred blackened and scorched my heart.
“But one survived, and they’ll multiply again.”
“Wait, really?” The dark fire within me was extinguished, like a candle doused with water.
“Black Hound Barghests don’t seem to have a strong sense of individual identity… Eleven were used as a distraction, and one ran to the royal castle. That’s how Lathus-sama arrived in time. This one called for help. You should praise it.”
A Barghest poked its head over the edge of the bed, placing its paws on the mattress.
“Good job. You saved us.” I reached out and ruffled its head. The lone surviving Barghest closed its eyes contentedly.
“Liz, are your injuries alright?”
“Yes, I can move. But it’s pathetic that a single blow nearly incapacitated me. I’m not exactly known for my physical defense, but…” Liz grumbled.
“I’m surprised you could even move… or that you’re even alive.”
The wound on her back had seemed too shallow to be considered fatal on the battlefield. It was strange that they hadn’t finished her off.
“I created an illusion the moment I was struck. With a touch of mind magic.”
Like adding seasonal vegetables to a dish.
“Could they really be fooled by that?”
“I was on the verge of death… and humans tend to believe what they want to believe.”
Liz smiled thinly. Her smile sent a chill down my spine, like a cold blade pressed against my neck on a winter night.
Liz’s smile vanished, replaced by her usual expression.
“Master, I have a question.”
“What is it?”
“—How did you come up with the idea of using [Create Ooze] offensively?”
“Ah…” I chuckled.
“It was the only spell I knew that could… continuously… kill someone.”
“That’s an everyday magic spell. …How did you… come up with such a… diabolical idea?”
She called it diabolical.
And I’m just a human.
“Because my world was peaceful.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“In my world, a surprisingly large number of people died in the bath.”
“…Despite being peaceful?”
“Accidents in the bath have nothing to do with peace or war.”
“That’s true, but…”
“You can drown in a basin of water. And during New Year’s… we have a tradition of eating mochi, a sticky rice cake…”
“Yes.”
“Every year, several people choke to death on it.”
“…Your world sounds increasingly insane.”
Coming from someone who lived in a nation that bathed in ooze, that was a bit rich.
“—So? Any information on that white knight?”
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