“I see. Sing fell because you cut down such an extraordinary tree. Now I understand why Vitalis is the last king. So you revere a being who destroyed his own kingdom through greed. Without even knowing shame.”
“As long as the king exists, the kingdom can always be born anew! The king is the kingdom itself!”
“With that outlook, no wonder you’re still only a handful. As Luke said.”
Then the surroundings suddenly grew quiet. The tree stopped moving. Nikephoros, still bound in its branches, did not stir. Gene felt almost bewildered. He seemed to have been mistaken about whom he would be fighting.
After a moment, a deep voice sounded from somewhere.
“I am… the great plunderer.”
Almost leaping with joy, the officiant approached the altar. Kneeling before it, he bowed his head.
“Your Majesty, have you returned? I am the ninety-eighth officiant, He Who Shall Attain the Source. I rejoice at your return.”
All the others knelt behind him. The branches binding Nikephoros withdrew, and he rose. Wounds remained all over his body where the branches had burrowed into him. But the moment he took a step forward, they closed and vanished, just as they had during his duel with Gene.
The officiant continued.
“How you must have suffered, confined all this time in such a foolish sacrifice. We tried countless times, but our efforts were so slow to bear fruit. Punish us severely for our failures.”
Nikephoros regarded him with an impassive expression. His appearance had changed so little that Gene wondered whether he had really become a god. Nikephoros approached the officiant. As though about to bestow a blessing, he reached out and gripped his throat.
“Hrk!”
The officiant tried to pry his hand away and escape, but could not. It was only one hand, yet he struggled with his entire body and could not get free. A thin groan escaped him, then stopped. The men kneeling behind him recoiled in a horrified crowd. Nikephoros murmured,
“Half of what you thought was right. Unfortunately, it was the opposite of what you hoped. I’m still myself. Where is this Vitalis fellow? Has he died already?”
Then Tahyang looked back. He thought he heard someone calling. Searching, he soon saw movement. A person lay in the dark shadow by the way they had entered. After a moment, the figure raised their head and tried to rise, but fell again and eventually began to crawl. Tahyang wanted to go and help, but the invisible barrier blocked him. The other person dragged themselves closer with the last of their strength. Meanwhile, Gene, Rosa, and Luke came to Tahyang’s side. He spoke.
“You’re Antonia.”
One of Antonia’s legs had been severed. She had lost so much blood that she could barely support herself. Looking behind her, Tahyang saw a thick trail of blood along the route she had crawled. She raised her head and tried to make out who stood before her, but apparently could not see well. Keeping her gaze on Tahyang, she spoke.
“Shadowhawk… Please, save the general.”
Gene stepped forward from behind him.
“I don’t think this is something I can save him from anymore.”
“I-I know how ridiculous it is to ask… Especially of you, who fought the general and came to the brink of death… But I, I don’t want him… to become a god. In the end I obeyed his orders, but if I’d known he would become such a thing… I’d always hoped he would refuse, but I, I wasn’t strong enough. I couldn’t… stop him.”
Antonia’s voice faded. Plainly she could not last much longer. But there was no way to help her. With the barrier between them, they could not reach even a fingertip toward her.
“I understand what you mean, but…”
“The tree. You must k-kill the tree. If you kill it, the god will… sleep again. Please.”
Rosa asked,
“How?”
“We need the… axe that cut it down three thousand years ago.”
Listening intently, Luke gave a hollow laugh, then sighed.
“Oh, that’s promising. Where are we suddenly supposed to find an axe from three thousand years ago?”
“Randri had it, last time… He wounded the tree with it, and its consciousness awakened… You, his granddaughter… Do you have it?”
Surprise and confusion crossed Rosa’s face. Randri had possessed such a thing? She had never heard of it. Where on earth could he have obtained a relic from three thousand years ago…
At that moment, she remembered the annal she had read in the library. The relic he had stolen, the one that had caused his ban!
Luke seemed to have reached the same thought. He looked at Rosa.
“Do you happen to know?”
Rosa desperately searched her mind. But her face soon twisted with dismay.
“I never even met my great-uncle Randri. He died before I was born. And even if I knew where it was, it would probably be in our castle back home.”
“Where is your home?”
“At the northern end of the continent.”
It was hopeless. As they stared at each other, biting their lips, Antonia gathered her strength and spoke.
“There isn’t much… time. Once the god is fully awake, the general will… disappear, and only that butcher will remain… Please… let the general die with honor. He was a man who saved Delphinad… not some god of plunder who would destroy it.”
Those were her last words. With complicated feelings, the four looked at Antonia, then turned back toward the hall. They drew startled breaths. In that brief interval, every one of the officiant’s followers in the hall had been slaughtered. Bodies with broken necks, severed limbs, and terrible wounds lay scattered everywhere. In that hellish scene, only one person remained alive: Nikephoros.
Standing among pools of blood, Nikephoros suddenly raised his head. His eyes met Gene’s. A smile appeared, as though he had found what he was looking for.
Nikephoros drew his sword.
“Shadowhawk, shall we have a fair duel now?”
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