EP.18 S1. The Finale of Irid and Centra -1

EP.18 S1. The Finale of Irid and Centra -1 The Second Prince, having finished all preparations, lay his body atop the magic circle. The insane mage and the purple tower master channeled their magic power into the magic circle from the east and the west respectively. A violet radiance flowed along the grooves of the magic circle, casting a soft glow around it. All was ready. The movement, the counter against enemies, the method to rescue her. Today, without a doubt, Second Prince Irid would save his beloved. If there was one thing lacking... Irid had yet to prepare his final goodbye to her. Sweat seeped from his palm. Could he truly accomplish this, see Centra’s smile once more, wish for her happiness? A storm seemed to rage inside Irid's mind. Yet, though his heart might waver in all directions, though countless deceptions tormented him, he had not forgotten what he must do. He had to save Centra. That was the sole purpose Irid had pondered and clung to. While reviewing the contents of the strategic meeting in his mind, Irid spoke to the mage. "How much time is left?" "About an hour in real time, Your Highness. The duration has been reduced due to insufficient capacity in the magic tank... Nevertheless, there should be enough time for a reconciliation. Assuming there are no variables, that is." Variables. Irid had a notion and asked again. "One last question, mage. Is this magic absolutely safe?" "Yes, of course." "Even if I die on the other side?" "That's right." "Then... I am ready." Irid closed his eyes. All that remained was to succeed. --------------------------------------------------------------- Tick-tock. The lingering scent of rosemary, the corridors filled with the rush of black smoke, the scattering debris, the explosion. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. You could feel time softening, unfreezing. Slowly, heartbreakingly leisurely. You twitched your fingers, focused to the point where you could feel each fiber of your tense muscles. Before time began to slip out of control once more, you replayed the strategy meeting in your mind. Advice from Fursor, the elder of the Flame Tower, and Princess Elaine, the first royal daughter. "He said he entered the same room as the kid, right? Then, of course ── the enemies must be aware of your existence." "If the trigger was a scroll, my guess would be a remote detonator. They must have been watching the target's movements from outside the window, pouring magic into it." "Then, they know you’re alive. That you didn't get caught in the explosion." Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick. The sound of the clock faded from your ears. Time now began to flow rapidly, as it always did. Protection Agency operative C said, "Consider the grappling gun... Could you check under the floorboards of the inn room? If they're hiding weapons and equipment, that would be likely." Before the black smoke filled the room, you stomped hard on a creaking part of the floorboard, breaking it. There was a hidden space and you reached your hand in. A full-body tights suit, a grappling gun, two daggers. You picked up the grappling gun and hung it on your waist, and drew one dagger, holding it firmly in your hand. By then, black smoke had filled the room. The faint scent of rosemary was overwritten by the smell of flames, ashes, and violence. Then you recalled. "If they know you weren't caught in the explosion, they'll first aim for the unscathed prince. If they wanted to incapacitate someone with the explosion, obstructing the view would be counterproductive. They wouldn't see where their target might hide or escape to." "Perhaps they’ve considered you, the variable, from the beginning. So as a precaution, the first move should be──" ────Now! Clash──!! As you swung the dagger mightily, another dagger suddenly lunged out of the black smoke and was deflected away. Given the place it flew from, and the briefly seen familiar design of the dagger's handle, your ambush assailant in the darkness is the female mercenary, Ronya. You thought you caught a glimpse of red hair. As expected. "Fighting in the darkness is disadvantageous in such a situation. Because, while the younger sibling has prepared nothing... the opponent has. If you don't know what they'll resort to, you should at least move to a place with a clear view, shouldn't you?" "The Protection Agency has a prototype of the grappling gun. Give it a try." "It's fortunate it’s a scroll, definitely simplifies calculations. Considering the blast power, the location of the protectee should be about here..." Chang──!! You deflected another fiercely flying dagger. You were lucky. According to your plan, you had been prepared to be hit by a throwing knife at least once in this section. The assaulter in the darkness backed off slightly. To have perfectly parried two ambushes in a row amid an unexpected explosion is not something a mere clerk like yourself would be capable of... unless time had been paused for contemplation. "Wouldn't they think so? Mercenaries often cherish their lives terribly, they retreat to gauge the situation. That finally gives you some breathing space. Now it’s your turn, Irid." The first royal daughter described it as 'your turn coming around'. Literally, like in a chess game, you gained a precious moment in the continuing battle of moves. You gauged Ronya's position in the darkness and kicked a chair at her. A dull crash and the glint of magic power. She must have infused her arm with magic to block it. You hadn't intended to cause damage. It was an act meant to distract. The move is on this side. You hurled yourself out of the small room's window. Crash-! The window shattered, and for a moment, you were airborne. From inside came a harsh scream, tinged with metal. "Are you running away from Centra, huh?!" "...No." In midair, just as the descent began, you aimed the grappling gun at your waist and fired. Toward a window in the corridor. Toward where you anticipated Centra would be. As soon as you felt the hook take hold in the wall, you activated the motor of the grappling gun to its fullest. You were pulled along as if by force. Once more, you shattered through a window with your whole body. Groping in the darkness, your hand touched something. Something soft and flinching. You gripped it tightly to ensure you wouldn't lose it again. Centra's faint voice reached your ears. "…uh, Irid…?" "I've come to save you." "…I, I'm sorry for saying this considering the seriousness of our situation, but that hurts a bit if you squeeze it too hard…" "……." …You decided to behave as if nothing had happened. You threw the handle of the grappling gun out the window. This way, the rope that was tethered to the hook embedded in the wall would pull taut, creating an impromptu tripwire trap. Hoisting Centra on your back, you dashed towards the stairs leading to the second floor. The elation of having saved Centra was short-lived, as you felt your back growing damp with liquid. Your heart chilled. The acrid smell. Centra's arms, limp as if drained of strength, heightened your anxiety. You had to hurry out of the smoke to tend to the wounds. Crash-! "That damn bastard-!!" It sounded like someone had tripped over the rope. You had bought yourself another breath. You leaped down the twelve steps in one bound, emerging from the black smoke. Without hesitation, you sprinted toward the wall on the second floor. Planting your hand on the wall, you drew a magic sigil. Though your hand trembled, you traced it with desperate precision; errors were not an option. The emblem of the Protection Agency emerged, revealing a secret passage as the wall opened. You ran. Glancing back momentarily, you could see Ronya rushing through the slowly closing doors of the secret passage. There was enough time. You sped down the dimly lit secret corridor, illuminated by faint light… --------------------------------------------------------------- Halfway through the secret passage, you completed emergency treatment on the lying Centra. Fortunately, Centra was not gravely injured. It seems she pulled all her magic power at the moment of the explosion to defend herself. The dampness was not due to bleeding, but rather the aftereffects of the "Water Shield" scroll she had been carrying. Thanks to that, her injuries were minor: some abrasions, light burns, a little magical exhaustion that made it hard to move for the time being. The thin clothes, soaked through by the "Water Shield," made administering first aid challenging. …You had to see to treat her! Centra had generously allowed you to see nearly all of her due to the dire circumstances. After a few minutes of casting the "Burn Scattering" spell you had learned from the military chaplain, with both your faces blushing, Centra spoke up softly. "…You're quite skilled, aren't you?" "I practiced hard. To save you." "That means, you... went and then came back?" "Yes." "…That's dangerous! You should've just stayed in the original world. You wouldn't have been in any danger. Look, you’ve injured your handsome face…" "I'm glad you’re concerned about my face." "It's not a compliment!" "Don’t you like it?" "…That's not it." Only then did you smile. For the past week, there had been no trace of a smile on your face. Yet, being with Centra alone made you smile; it was a curious thing. How many people had been touched by her kindness? She seemed to have the power to pull at people's hearts. Maybe, just maybe, you had simply fallen for her at first sight. You believed that Centra would make it through from now on. "With you alive, everything can be set right. Dealing with the radicals, successfully running 'Beer and Songs.'" "…Irid?" Centra reached out with a puzzled look, but you did not take her hand. Because it wasn't over yet. "There seems to be more to do. Wait a bit. I'll take care of it and be back." You stood up and grasped the dagger. The sound of someone running resounded from the other end of the passage. You hoped by luck that you could finish this without fighting… but it would be odd if the resistance, having taken over the base, didn't know about the secret passage. Although it was a suspicion, you also considered that the resistance's origin was the Protection Agency. "…You're not, running away?" "No." "Then, in that case… Don't get hurt, and fight magnificently. Win for sure!" "I promise." Having received support from your beloved, there was no reason for you to lose. You prepared for the last fight.