Chapter 131 – In which doubting sincerity is an occupational disease and can’t be helped (4)
[…No. That’s really me.]
[That’s what an impostor would say, but that inability to comprehend how suspicious one is, is very Sir Citrie-like. Damn it, I really can’t say. So what do you want again?]
[Can I go on vacation?]
[You’re either impostor or out of your mind.]
[I feel like it’s the latter.]
[And you realize you’re insane? That’s even worse.]
Citrie just laid his forehead on the cold table for a moment.
[… Sir Citrie, are you still there?]
[… Young Lady, you’re not helping.]
[Well, Sir Citrie never helped himself either.]
[I’m going to cry.]
[I’m not the person you should unleash that tactic upon…]
The device paused for a second, then rattled again.
[But I acknowledge that the situation sounds really serious. Tell me the details.]
Citrie sighed, wiped sweat from his forehead and gathered his scattered thoughts.
[My body feels like it’s on fire.]
[Like a fever or…]
[As if literal fire was coursing through my veins and tried to rip me apart.]
[Noted. Anything else?]
[I keep seeing red spots and… my body feels so very stiff and heavy, as if something is trying to pin me down.]
[Anything besides somatic symptoms?]
[… My thoughts keep turning to Lesser Lord Mage no matter what I do. Does that counts?]
[Did those symptoms appear after you met Lesser Lord Mage?]
[Kinda? I mean… My thoughts kept turning back to him, but it wasn’t… it wasn’t that bad. It only got this bad after the second meeting today…]
[I see. First, Sir Citrie, I need you to stop panicking.]
[I’m not panicking.]
[Okay, you aren’t panicking. Sir Citrie, first cover your mouth with something, a cloth or glass will do.]
Citrie picked up an empty glass nearby and started to breathe into it.
His racing heart began to slow down a little.
[Done?]
[Young Lady, am I cursed?]
There was no answer for a moment.
[No. You’re not cursed, Sir Citrie. You’re just really unlucky.]
It didn’t sound very reassuring, but he still felt a bit relieved.
[Once you calm down a little, I would recommend you use sleeping incense and go to sleep.]
[Is it safe to use sleeping incense here?]
[Your current state is more dangerous than that, isn’t it?]
[That’s true. Why sleep?]
[I’m going to give you the benefit of doubt and assume you’re not asking it out of insomniac reasons. If my hypothesis is correct, what you’re dealing with is something between a spiritual art and a magic spell. Both of those things take root in soul and mind, so if you put your body to sleep and eliminate it out of equation, it should be easier for your being to defend yourself against it.]
It sounded quite reasonable… but where Young Lady Saffra obtained the knowledge to make such a hypothesis in the first place…?
Saffra, unconcerned about what Citrie thought, continued:
[Try to take frequent naps. The moment you sense the symptoms flaring up, go to sleep. And… if possible, don’t spent too much time around Lesser Lord Mage. For now.]
‘For now’? Citrie planned to stay away from that man as far as possible.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Why would he want to hang around him?
He didn’t voice any of those doubts though, answering with simple:
[Okay.]
[Okay… … … I’m sorry.]
Citrie stared at those words for a moment, before he erased them and packed back the machine.
They sounded strangely sincere…
But what exactly was she sorry for?
As instructed, he lit up the incense and laid down to sleep.
Drowsiness flood him quickly, as if the dream world was just waiting for him.
In his fogging up mind, Citrie thought to himself:
‘I have to ask them to replace those citrus candles.’
He found smell of citrus strangely bothering.
*-*-*
Guardian burned another piece of fake sightseeing report over the candle’s flame.
It has been a few months since that day, when he was shamelessly used as a prop in a play and then throw under the stage, the perpetrators escaping with some strange trick.
His subordinates later told him the man under a codename ‘Crow’ draw some strange symbols in the air and bend mana to his will, instantly disappearing from the spot with his two compatriots.
Ridiculous.
Mana could not be tamed by some symbols.
You needed entire machinery to extract it from the air and forcibly trap it inside the objects, where it would endlessly spin, achieving a desired effect.
That was magic.
What Crow did… what Crow did… was a shameless trickery.
Thud!
He hit down with his fist. The desk let out a dangerous groan of weakness.
Guardian paid it no attention, he took out the only clue he had.
The cloak they put on him during the play.
The wicked actors didn’t think of taking that off him before they escaped.
And Guardian didn’t throw it away.
Rather he studied it with needlework like precision.
That lavish looking cloak was actually made from a very cheap and rough material.
Still, this much of a cloth was not easy to come by, and it even had such a careful embroidery….
It had to take a lot of time to make, yet they threw this away so easily?
The more he examined it, the more this ‘gift’ felt like a mockery.
“Boss! We got something!”
Suddenly, two of his direct subordinates rushed into the room.
Guardian jumped from his seat, his eyes demanding details.
The calmer one spoke:
“The manufacture factories in sector 16 suddenly burst into the flames. All fire-fight golems were compromised. The factory grounds are cut off from the outside. It matches their modus operandi.”
He didn’t need anything more.
“Gather the squad! We’re departing now!”
He sprinted out of the room.
The cloak still in his hand.
.
.
.
With the backdrop of a dark sky behind, the red flames raged proudly.
Like most vicious letter of ridicule.
Constructs couldn’t get in because of some strange devices – soul waves emitters they told him – scattered around and messing with their programming.
Those with biological forms couldn’t got in because of smoke.
‘This is not a normal fire.’
He watched as fire, which burned one factory down to a mere skeleton, leisurely move to another building without losing any momentum.
Another mockery of their effort.
One good thing in all of this was that there was no one inside.
The factories were closed for a day due to some machine malfunction yesterday… he should look into this later, now that he thought about it.
It was too suspicious of a coincidence.
Still that fire…
“Isn’t that like a tag game?”
“… A tag game?”
His subordinates, exhausted from running around, trying to figure out which factory will be next and always failing, looked at him confused.
He didn’t explain.
He just continued his reasoning inside his head.
‘It’s too precise to be done according to precalculated schematics… it’s reacting to our movements.’
They didn’t have enough of manpower to reinforce all factories, so they could only defend one at the time, and it was always the wrong one.
Someone was watching their movements.
‘Then where are they watching from…?’
Looking around, a watchtower in the center of a complex caught his eye.
The blinds were drawn, so no one was inside, but…
That flat roof…
“I’m going to check something, if I don’t come back in 10 minutes, charge after me.”
He rushed towards the watchtower, uncaring about the shouts of his subordinates behind him.
He climbed the tower.
He found the way up to the roof.
He climbed its edge and…
At the opposite end of the flat roof of watchtower he found a man in a red crow mask.
Crow didn’t appear to be surprised by the appearance of Guardian.
He gave him a slight nod, akin to a friendly greeting.
“We meet again, Lord Guardian.”
The strange made-up title.
Even though it appeared respectful, there was an odd edge to it.
“I’m neither a lord, nor a guardian.”
“That’s most regretful. Perhaps if only you were a guardian, someone would believe you when you say you want to protect people.”
Ah, was that what it was about?
Protection…
“And you do?”
Guardian motioned towards the flames devouring people’s livelihood.
Crow didn’t answer, instead his fake polite smile turned into a real smirk of ridicule.
“What can I do for you today, Lord Guardian? As you may see, I’m in the middle of something.”
“… There are some things I’m curious about actually…”
Guardian said, buying himself time to figure out what do.
Just throwing himself at him was too risky.
While he didn’t mind plunging Crow down, he would rather not do so himself.
He needed an opportunity to get closer.
“My answers are quite pricey. How will you pay form them?”
“… How about I give you back this?”
He took out the cloak he accidentally brought with him.
As if it was indeed not easy to give up such a large amount of fabric, Crow eyed it for a moment.
“Alright. Your question?”
“Those flames. How are you doing that?”
“Magic.”
Guardian just stared at him, and Crow simply shrugged.
“I invented a way to use mana to bend the laws of nature to my will without any mediums and as easily as breathing.”
“… That’s amazing.”
Guardian did his best to sound sincerely amazed by that megalomaniac explanation.
“Indeed, all the wise men are sincerely in awe of my achievement.”
Crow smirked at him.
It didn’t work.
“Then my cloak then, please.”
Crow stretched out his hand, urging him.
Guardian started to slowly approach.
His opponent seemed to raise an eyebrow behind the mask, but he didn’t stop him.
When the gap between them decreased to a few steps, Crow’s smirk twitched as he said:
“I would advise you not to approach any further…”
But it was enough for Guardian.
He instantly closed the distance, and plunged the blade hidden in the cloak into Crow’s chest.
He aimed for a lung, but missed.
The dagger hit the rib and sliced off to the side, cutting only muscles.
Still, Guardian felt a rush of joy, as this hateful man squirmed and twitched in pain like a pinned butterfly.
But before he could reposition himself, Crow grabbed his armed arm and hurled a kick towards his family’s jewels.
Though Guardian manage to avoid damage to his ego and terrible pain, he slightly lost his balance and was pulled towards Crow.
He went for Crow’s head with his unarmed arm, but…
A sting under his armpit, made him momentarily pause.
Crow also had a small dagger of his own.
“Ughr… shit.”
Crow sucked a shaky breath, his raspy voice tickled Guardian’s ears.
They were so close right now, that someone could’ve thought they were affectionate, if not for Crow’s blood generously soaking the ground.
Crow raised his head and glared at him:
“You know… I was going to give you a nice deal…”
Blood dripped from the cracked lip, which he bit to swallow the screams.
“But I guess you want much more than that.”
Sensing some unidentified danger, Guardian tried to hastily drew back, even with the danger of a blade against his weak-point, but Crow dropped the dagger and grabbed the edge of the armor, pulling him closer.
He whispered directly into Guardian’s ear.
“You’re going to have to pay a full price, kitten.”
The yet untouched factories suddenly burst into flames.
But Guardian couldn’t pay any attention to it.
As his right arm burst into flames with them.
He screamed.
And the world turned red with agony.
*~*~*
