AMLSL 6

Chapter 6

Luniel Mistilane (2)**

“Well, then, it seems the orientation is finished, so…”

Whitney, who had been watching Luniel with interest as she regained the light in her eyes for the first time in a long while, rose from her seat and spoke in a low voice.

“Shall we move somewhere else?”

“…?”

Luniel, who had been lost in the small hope she’d found after being mired in despair for so long, couldn’t help but feel puzzled at those words.

If they needed to move somewhere else, why had she been told to come here secretly alone at dawn?

Unless there was a hidden passage in the room—though it seemed unlikely there’d be one on the top floor.

“Up we go.”

“…!”

But her doubts were quickly resolved when Whitney lightly pushed the bookshelf behind her.

-*Creak…!*

The slightly pushed bookshelf slowly slid to the side, revealing a dark passage leading downward that had been hidden from view.

“This is…”

“It’s nothing much—just a passage to the basement, prepared for emergencies. It became useless when the manor was remodeled a while back, but it’s come in handy now.”

Whitney’s explanation for the obviously suspicious secret passage was, in a way, plausible.

After all, there were quite a few eccentric nobles who, due to their obsessive—almost fanatical—fixation on safety, had secret passages and traps built throughout their mansions.

Even if not to that extent, most noble estates had one or two hidden escape routes prepared for emergencies.

But that passage, gaping open like a beast’s maw, seemed—no matter how you looked at it—unsuited for any ordinary escape purpose.

‘…Is that the smell of blood?’

If not, there would be no reason for a metallic, bloody scent to waft up from deep within the passage.

Though it was faint enough that an ordinary person wouldn’t notice, Luniel—who had crossed the line of death several times—could be certain it was the smell of blood.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you coming in?”

But that didn’t mean she wanted to run away now.

On the contrary, knowing that Whitney had prepared something real—not just words—made Luniel’s heart beat even more violently.

Of course, there was every chance that what awaited below was a trap, but that no longer mattered to her.

She had been betrayed so many times by those who extended a hand to her, her spirit crushed to the point of breaking—so being betrayed one more time wouldn’t change anything.

In other words, she had nothing to lose.

“All right, we’ve arrived… but before we go in, let me say one thing in advance.”

With that thought, she had followed Whitney silently down the secret passage, the smell of blood growing thicker—

“Don’t be alarmed?”

—but even she couldn’t help but gasp when Whitney opened the door, adding in a tone as if it were nothing.

“This isn’t some evil dark mage’s ritual or anything.”

For there, in the basement that was finally revealed, a hexagram radiating the stench of blood filled the entire floor, welcoming her.

\* \* \*

“Mm, this is why I asked for your understanding in advance… but I suppose a more detailed explanation is in order.”

I feel a bit bad for Luniel, whose face went pale the moment she entered the basement, but honestly, I have a somewhat unfair side in this too. Until a few days ago, I had no idea this place existed either.

If Alfred hadn’t—with a face turned ashen—told me about this place after I mentioned needing a secret location away from prying eyes, I probably never would have known even after his retirement.

Anyway, it’s a place that hasn’t been maintained for quite a long time, and on top of that, experiments have been conducted here over the past few days, so even by my standards the atmosphere in the basement was quite eerie.

But if you understand the principles of the magic circle drawn on the floor, there’s nothing to be afraid of.

“It may look a certain way, but using blood in rituals is a traditional method employed even by the Holy Church, you know?”

Actually, dark magic and white magic share the same roots in that they both deal with souls, though there are minor differences in the process and results of their rituals.

Saying this might give the mistaken impression that white magic and dark magic are the same thing, but that would be a misunderstanding.

Those ‘minor differences’ are what divide things like whether human sacrifice is used in the ritual process, or whether the result is a curse or a blessing. Evil, wicked dark magic and righteous white magic are clearly different in that regard.

“For reference, the blood used as material for the magic circle is cow’s blood. So please don’t look at me with those eyes.”

I feel bad for Hans the stablehand, who wept bitterly a few days ago when his long-raised cow died of illness, but those who are alive must carry on, no?

Hans’s beloved livestock, Brown, would surely rejoice from beyond the rainbow bridge to see Luniel wielding a sword again.

“Well, if it really seems off to you…”

“I’m not particularly blaming you.”

But Luniel didn’t seem convinced by my explanation, so I was about to add a few more words when her cold voice beat me to it.

“If you can just make it so I can hold a sword again, I could help you draw hundreds—no, thousands more of these.”

“Um, at that rate, the Empire’s cows won’t…”

I tried to correct what seemed like a slight misunderstanding on her part, but Luniel cut me off in an even heavier voice.

“So, explain now.”

Though her tone was calm, her eyes—quietly burning in the darkness—were clearer than ever before.

“What must I do here to hold a sword again?”

What mattered was her resolve, and now that I’d confirmed it, there was no point in quibbling further.

“Well, it’s nothing much. I’ve already finished all the preparations.”

So I pointed to the very center of the magic circle I’d spent the past few days staying up nights to create, and gave instructions in a gentle voice.

“You just need to walk to the center of the magic circle and stand there. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Though I made it sound easy, today’s ritual is actually not so simple.

If I weren’t a devoted fan who had memorized entire game setting books filled with all sorts of techniques and rituals, and if I hadn’t learned to handle souls proficiently for the sake of my family and advancing white magic, it would have been impossible even to reproduce this ritual devised by the Emperor.

This ritual—which even the Emperor had to go through trial and error repeatedly before succeeding—is actually conducted in a very crude and straightforward manner considering the difficulty of its design.

The method is to engrave a processed sigil onto Luniel’s soul, replacing the mana circuits inside her already-burned body. Simply put, it’s no different from carving through living flesh to create blood vessels throughout the body.

Yes, in a word, you could call it madness.

‘But the effect is certain.’

Do you know how the undead—liches in particular—use magic?

Even if their phylacteries contain enormous amounts of mana, mana does not flow through a body devoid of life.

To use magic, one needs a circulation system that can project internal mana outward when needed—but in the case of liches, who have nothing left but bones and thus cannot use mana circuits, this is solved by engraving the formula onto their souls.

In other words, if mana itself is carved into the soul, one can use magic without issue even if mana doesn’t flow through the body.

Of course, such an act carries a high risk of inflicting tremendous damage to the soul, and it comes with excruciating pain—as if your entire body is being torn apart.

Naturally, since it’s the pain of the soul rather than the body, liches feel it just the same—but they, who are practically steeped in dark magic, have high soul resistance and are already dead, so there’s no worry of death by shock.

Yet even among such liches, some cannot endure the pain inflicted on their souls and crumble—so if an ordinary person were to do something so insane, they would either lose their mind or have their soul shattered before the formula was even complete.

Therefore, this ritual—targeting Luniel, who still belongs to the category of human—was designed to engrave the formula slowly in stages so as not to strain her soul.

Even if the pain itself cannot be reduced, engraving the formula sequentially through multiple stages can dramatically improve stability.

Of course, even the Emperor who devised this ritual couldn’t guarantee success.

Even she—who had finally uncovered the long-veiled secret of how liches use mana—was skeptical about applying it to the soul of a living, healthy person.

‘But Luniel will pull it off.’

I know this clearly because I read Luniel’s past with great interest in a setting book released as a game supplement—she was an extremely popular character.

The Emperor, who had explained to Luniel exactly what I’d just organized in my head, gave her a choice—and Luniel, simply at the words “you can hold a sword again,” chose to have the formula engraved without a moment’s hesitation.

And though it was divided into stages, she endured the agonizing pain—so severe that even liches would crumble—time and time again, and ultimately succeeded.

But perhaps because the pain was so extreme, her already-faint emotions died completely, and she was reduced to the Emperor’s killing machine.

Still, this time the situation will be a little different.

Because over the past few days, as I refined the ritual, I had thought of something.

“So you’re saying that if I endure tremendous pain in exchange for my soul, I can hold a sword again?”

“Mm, it’s a bit different, but… let’s just go with that.”

Anyway, it was about time to proceed with the ritual, so I explained the process briefly to Luniel—but as expected, she didn’t seem to fully understand.

Well, she’s lived her whole life with nothing but a sword, so understanding a complex magical system might be difficult for her.

Still, I’m glad she grasped the core point—that she has to endure pain. This ritual depends above all else on Luniel’s own willpower.

“Let me know when you’re ready. It’s going to be a very painful experience, so take your time to prepare yourself…”

“I’ve been ready since a while ago.”

Now that the moment to begin the ritual was actually approaching, I felt like I was more nervous than Luniel, who had steeled her resolve.

Have I really implemented the Emperor’s ritual correctly? Will the ‘countermeasure’ I prepared in advance work?

“Then, let’s begin.”

A flood of worries rushed in for a moment, but even so, after taking a deep breath, I quietly injected mana into the magic circle on the floor.

-*Zzzzing…*

After a fleeting moment, a blindingly crimson light and acrid smoke began to fill the dark basement—

“Ugh!?”

—and in the very next instant, Luniel’s expression twisted hideously.

“Kuhk… uuugh…”

“Hmm.”

Right about now, she must be feeling the pain of every nerve and organ in her body being torn apart by a sharp blade.

I’d love to cast a pain-numbing spell on her, but it’s useless—it’s not her body being torn apart, but her soul.

So right now, I have no choice but to trust in Luniel’s fanatical obsession with the sword and the transcendent mental strength born from it.

“Th-this much… is nothing…”

But contrary to my hopes, she staggered for a moment, seemed to regain her balance—then finally collapsed to the floor as her legs gave out.

“This is a problem.”

Seeing that, I couldn’t help but mutter with a frown.

“…I can only call this below expectations.”

“Uht.”

I’d done my best to reproduce the ritual, but it seems the quality of my magic circle is markedly inferior to what the Emperor—with unlimited resources and manpower—could create.

Fortunately, the ritual itself is proceeding properly, but the problem is time.

The quality of the magic circle is already lower, making the pain more severe—and now the time required seems to have increased compared to the original. At this rate, even Luniel can’t be guaranteed to succeed.

“It can’t be helped.”

Of course, I have no intention of just sucking my thumb and watching this dire situation unfold.

If I’d known things would turn out this way and hadn’t prepared a countermeasure, I’d be disqualified as a human being.

All right. Then it’s about time to bring out the countermeasure I prepared.

“Not yet… not yet…!”

“Whoa.”

As I was thinking that and walking toward the magic circle, Luniel’s shrill voice suddenly pierced my ears.

“Not yet, I can still endure! So just a little more time…!”

Luniel, who had been writhing in agony on the floor, seemed to muster her last ounce of strength to lift her head and cry out desperately.

“I-I’ll definitely meet your expectations…”

“No, that’s enough. That’s plenty.”

Her mental fortitude is truly admirable, but continuing to endure that level of pain when she can’t even hold herself upright is next to impossible.

Even the Emperor’s ritual—clearly superior to mine—ended up erasing her emotions. If she endures my inferior ritual, it might not just be her emotions that vanish—it could be her life.

So I need to execute my countermeasure urgently, right now.

“Wh-whatever it is, I’ll do it. I-if my soul alone isn’t enough…”

“Huh?”

“Then I’ll bring you this world itself…”

So I ignored her words and stepped into the magic circle—and now a voice, seemingly terrified, came at me even more urgently.

“P-please… just one more chance…”

No, what has she been talking about all this time? I’m not some Demon King—I have not the slightest intention of taking over the world. Nor do I plan to do anything cruel like giving something and then taking it away.

“I’m trying to help with your ritual right now…”

“Ah…”

I felt I should properly clarify this, so I scratched my head and tried to explain—

-*Drip…*

“Oh dear.”

—but she, who had been gritting her teeth and enduring the pain to the very last moment even as the capillaries in her eyes burst, finally burst a stream of blood from her nose and lost consciousness.

‘She really is an incredible person.’

Her clothes are already completely soaked through with cold sweat, and the muscles throughout her body are still twitching and spasming, unable to forget the pain.

Yet not once did the word “give up” leave Luniel’s lips until the very end—she’s truly tenacious beyond words.

But even for her, further damage to her soul would be dangerous. Even now that she’s unconscious, Luniel’s soul must be suffering endlessly.

So it’s time to execute the ‘countermeasure.’

“Phew.”

But now that the moment has actually arrived, I can’t help my heart from pounding like crazy.

Because the countermeasure I devised is just as crude and straightforward—and just as dangerous—as the ritual before me.

“I didn’t think I’d actually end up doing this.”

The method is to use a formula I’d secretly embedded into the magic circle in advance to redirect the soul pain inflicted on Luniel to myself.

It’s my trump card, modeled after the technique of paladins—the pillars of the Holy Knight Order—who primarily use tactics of redirecting curses and damage aimed at allies onto themselves, while distributing beneficial blessings that dwell within their bodies to their comrades.

This should allow Luniel’s ritual to conclude stably.

Of course, there’s the small issue that until the ritual ends, the pain of having my living flesh torn apart will be directed entirely at me.

‘That much, I’ve been through a few times in my past life.’

I don’t particularly want to remember it, but bodily pain is something I experienced plenty in my previous life, so I’m used to it—and fundamentally, I’m not the kind of person who can make someone else endure suffering unilaterally.

If I did that, it would haunt my dreams until I died—so even for the sake of a clean conscience, this is the right choice.

Honestly, though, my true feeling is that I just want to live comfortably—what kind of hardship is this?

‘Once Luniel is on my side, the road ahead will be wide open—so this much is a profitable deal.’

Besides, Luniel has already bought me quite a lot of time, so I just need to endure for the remaining duration.

And what good would it do if she finally got to hold a sword again but her emotions were dead? I don’t know if this method will work well, but at the very least, I hope she doesn’t lose the feeling of joy.

-*Zzzzing…!*

And to add one more thing—something many people tend to forget.

Originally, a position of authority comes with responsibility commensurate to it.

“Ugh…!”

No, but thinking about it again, isn’t this responsibility a bit excessive?