Nastique the Quiet Singer - 2

The night, once filled with children's voices, fell quiet again as they were put to bed.

Together, Kuze and Nihilo checked the corridor in front of their room. "This hallway's the only route to your room. I had them give you one

without a window, so I'll carry a couch over to this hallway and rest here. You should be safe for the night."

"You're always such a gentleman, Kuze. I don't have any problem sleeping together in the same room, you know."

As she flashed an alluring smile, the revenant's one uncovered eye glinted. The appendages on her back seemed both like slender threads of spider silk but also like eight individual arms in and of themselves.

"Bweh-ha-ha. You shouldn't tease old men like that. I'll be working hard tonight, too, so relax and get some sleep."

"If a dragon came by, could you protect me with that shield of yours?" "…Impossible for me, I'd say."

Kuze gently shook his head and then stared hard at the empty air in front of him.

This habit of his had cropped up numerous times during their journey together.

"Though…even if I was face-to-face with Vikeon, I'd definitely win." "Tee-hee. I hope so."

After his escort target returned to her room, Kuze began preparing to spend his night in the hallway. Covering the couch with a blanket, he lit a fire inside a big bottle, checking the contents of the tea and pitcher of water he had with him to stave off his nighttime hunger.

"…Yeah. I'm glad everyone looked to be doing well."

He seemed to be speaking to someone in the empty air, but no one was visible.

"Four years ago, I think. I was living here at the time. The fitting on the windows is just as bad as ever…"

Even after the death of the True Demon King, the Order that he tried to protect was fully on the path to ruin. There was only one option left for him to reverse course—escorting the transport of Nihilo the Vortical Stampede. Then he would be awarded a certain privilege as compensation for cooperation with the conquering of the New Principality of Lithia.

A fight to decide the sole Hero, eh…?

Kuze casually looked up. He could hear footsteps.

Turning his eyes toward the other end of the hallway, he saw Ripel, wrapped up in her shabby nightwear.

"What's wrong, Ripel? Why're you up so late?" "…Mr. Kuze."

Turning toward Nihilo's room, Ripel approached Kuze. "I have a favor to ask of you. Please save us."

"...And that's something you can't say in front of everyone else?"

He could tell from the serious look in the girl's eyes. He'd always planned on being there for the poorhouse, whether asked or not—as long as it was something Kuze himself could manage.

"Can you work with the New Principality?" "..."

Kuze was silent.

The New Principality had cast a wide net. It was reasonable to believe they were reaching out far and wide. Similarly to how Aureatia had entreated Kuze for help.

"After the Sixth General's army traveled through here…people from the New Principality came out to investigate. They said that if we cooperated, they'd support our church! And that the kids wouldn't be kept awake by the freezing cold anymore! I can't fight, but you, Mr. Kuze…you're very strong, and…I'm sure that Master Taren will like you!"

"…Bweh-ha-ha. Really now."

She was still unaware that Kuze was working for Aureatia. She also thought that the merchants borrowing rooms in the poorhouse were entirely who they said they were.

"I really put you all through some terrible hardships during my absence.

I'm so sorry, Ripel."

She also had no idea Kuze was on a journey to assassinate that very leader of the New Principality, Taren the Punished.

"…I can't help you. My method of saving you all won't work that way… I'm truly sorry."

"Mr. Kuze—"

Before the next words could escape her mouth, the sharp sound cut through the air, whishing by her earlobe.

It was an arrow. With his warrior's intuition, Kuze had instinctively dodged the projectile.

"...!"

Kuze could tell that the ambusher hiding on the far side of the hallway, farther behind Ripel, had sniped at his head.

He could tell it was a spy Ripel had brought with her. The spy was looking to kill him. Kuze quickly dropped to the floor and picked up his angel-emblazoned shield.

"Wh-why…? Stop!" Ripel cried out, bewildered. "Don't kill him!" "You're blocking my shot! That man's connected to Aureatia!" the New

Principality spy cruelly declared. As he spoke, he nocked his next arrow, drawing Kuze's attention.

So the New Principality already knew about us. And their original aim wasn't this transport unit, either. It's because that Sixth General or whoever's nonsense tipped these guys off and let their operatives get a foothold here… Dammit!

Even the sharp Hidow couldn't have foreseen that there would be friction between their mission and the Sixth General's independent troops. A shortcoming in the equal authority shared among Aureatia's Twenty-Nine Officials and their ability to wield that authority at their own discretion.

From the outset, Kuze himself had proposed turning Ripel's church orphanage into their base of operations.

"How awful can this world get…?!"

"The merchants are all in disguise, aren't they, Kuze the Passing Disaster?!"

A dull metal clang echoed.

"Tch…!"

The spy who had approached Kuze from behind had his short sword deflected off Kuze's right metal gauntlet.

Simultaneously, Kuze turned his great shield frontways, like a wall, and obstructed the archer's line of sight.

"Mr. Kuze!" Ripel shouted. She wasn't at fault. She had simply picked the best option available to protect those important to her. The exact same way Kuze the Passing Disaster had.

"I'm fine!"

Kuze shouted back as his shield took continuous archer fire. The short sword–wielding spy fixed his attacks on Kuze's organs, coming at him from his low blind spots like a snake. The fact that he was able to deal with two well-trained assassins working in tandem was a testament to how accustomed he was to fighting on the defensive.

Joining the two soldiers was yet another, approaching silently. Ripel, the person in charge of the facilities, had made connections with the New Principality. His opponents had been given ample opportunities to hide their forces within the orphanage.

"…Please. Don't kill him…!"

It was possible that the Aureatia soldiers on the upper floor would pick up on the disturbance and come rushing in. However, it was clear these opponents planned on capturing—or disposing of—Kuze and Nihilo before

help could arrive. "Whoa now!"

Cold sweat poured down Kuze as he fended off the fierce assault. He barely managed to dodge the short spear that pierced his defenses by letting it pass under his armpit. In the narrow corridor, the spies were having difficulties dealing with the great shield, well suited for location.

The short-spear soldier called back to his comrades.

"His defenses are strong. Better than regular Aureatia soldiers."

"…If the merchants on the floor above us are Aureatia soldiers, then we can't waste time. Forget capturing them alive."

"Affirmative."

Two were in the front. There were four more in the back. The attackers on both ends synchronized their encroaching thrusts toward Kuze. Standard tactics against an opponent with sturdy defenses—simultaneous saturation attacks that the defenses of a normal minia body weren't fast enough to handle.

It was the strategy Kuze wanted to see least of all. "Crap."

The great shield shook. His gauntlets creaked. His light armor was shredded, and he used a kick to lock down a spearhead with the sole of his shoe.

With astounding reflexes for a lone minia, Kuze managed to protect himself. Nevertheless, one long sword evaded his defenses and reached his body.

Or at least, it should have.

The long sword–wielding soldier dropped to the ground. "—"

His brothers-in-arms took caution, backing off together to widen the circle around Kuze. One of them assumed poison. Another thought the attack had come from a small, hidden weapon within Kuze's vestments.

Whatever the cause, the long sword–wielding soldier remained facedown on the ground, showing no sign of getting up.

Their compatriot was dead. All too suddenly. "…What did I tell you? Try not to kill them."

The cleaner gave a lifeless smile. At the very least, in the moment, he shouldn't have had any spare seconds to make an attack of his own.

"Open it up… Shoot at him from a distance," one of the soldiers muttered. They were trying to smother any creeping fear about the mysterious situation. The soldiers all nodded and began following the orders. Kuze feigned an insincere smile while hiding the cold sweat in his palms.

…Repeated projectile volleys should be enough to ward off with my shield. I just need to buy time…

As Kuze expected, the soldiers aimed their arrows toward their mark. Though instead of him, their bows were trained on Ripel, sitting in a corner of the hallway.

"…!"

Kuze jumped in front of the archer's aim to try and shield the girl.

The string snapped. Immediately beforehand, though, it was the archer who fell to the ground instead. The arrow, fired during a dying convulsion, lodged itself in the ceiling.

"Nastique…!"

Kuze muttered the name of someone who wasn't there. The short sword– wielding soldiers rushed in, not letting the moment Kuze's defenses were dropped pass. One of their blades was deflected by a gauntlet, but the remaining two soldiers also fell to the ground for some enigmatic reason.

"You bastard."

At this point, the spy unit's numbers had dropped to three.

It was eerie. The New Principality soldiers, well versed in assassination tactics, should have had a one-sided advantage, battling in a corridor with a positional edge, and they expected the flow to shift in their favor.

Both their relentless attacks, leaving no room for response, and their surprise follow-ups during lapses in their target's awareness, were being hindered by incomprehensible deaths, the cause a complete mystery. Kuze the Passing Disaster showed not a single wound on him.

"Bweh-heh-heh…"

"What's with this guy?"

His defensive techniques were top-of-the-line; that was without question. However, they weren't unfathomable skills, either. What about this lone paladin, considered to be the strongest of the Order's cleaners, was allowing him to do this?

"…Were you never taught? Didn't you heed the lessons in church when you were young?"

The bulwark great shield hid the Passing Disaster's body. Upon its surface was the impression of an angel.

Abstracted wings and light. A formless concept. Messengers from the heavens, spoken of in the Order's teachings, serving the Word-Maker as he gave birth to this world.

"When you do bad things…the angels come to punish you, you know?"

"G-gaaaah!"

Two of the remaining three charged forward in a panic. Kuze once again tried to suppress their attacks with his shield defense—when at that moment, the door to his flank opened. A figure jumped out.

The revenant girl sliced through one of the soldier's eyes with animalistic speed, then thrust the tentacles on her back into the other soldier's neck.

"Grrrng, hrngh."

At the behest of the metal terminals digging into Nihilo's nervous system, he involuntarily threw his short sword toward the remaining soldier. The blade sank into the head of the fleeing man, killing him instantly. His final action over, he then stopped breathing himself.

The whole exchange had been like one flowing stroke of a brush, over in the blink of an eye.

"Tee-hee. That was a close one, Kuze. Are you okay?" "..."

With the battle complete, Kuze looked over the tragic scene splayed across the hallway. He surveyed the dead… Neither the soldiers torn to grizzly pieces nor the ones looking peacefully asleep would ever taste life again.

His unattainable wish to save lives like these was an example of Kuze's insolence.

"…Yeah. Thanks, Nihilo." "You're welcome."

He then turned toward the remaining person in the hall. Still sitting on the ground, Ripel was covering her face.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry, Mr. Kuze. I really just, I wanted…I wanted you to join our cause. I never wanted them to k-kill—"

"I know. This was all those New Principality guys' idea. You haven't

done anything wrong, Ripel. You were just trying to keep the orphans fed. I wanted to do the same."

"And y-yet, I…"

"…Who ordered you to do this?"

"A woman…Lana the Moon Tempest… She said she wanted me to tell her if Kuze the Passing Disaster came… That's why I heard about the encampment, too…"

Kuze the Passing Disaster was known throughout the underworld as the Order's strongman. Talents unaffiliated with Aureatia. This was the sort of condition the New Principality was after.

Kuze gritted his teeth. He understood that Ripel remaining on the floor… and her trembling voice weren't merely products of fear and guilt.

"…Ripel. Can you let me see your stomach?" "I'm sorry. Koff, koff…"

"Looks like her kidneys are run through."

Nihilo gave her dispassionate diagnosis. A stray arrow during the close- quartered melee was stuck deep in Ripel's abdomen.

The power that haunted Kuze would only protect Kuze himself. And those without such power were painfully weak in comparison.

"...If everyone was happy…I wanted to be…like you, Mr. Kuze…" "Ripel…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

The Order was a dying institution. Used up and cast aside.

Kuze the Passing Disaster could be present only to watch people die.

Ripel was buried the next day.

"Nihilo, you died once, right?" Kuze began, looking down on the white grave bathed in the morning sun.

"…There's one thing I'd like to ask you. When you died, did you see an angel?"

"The angels the Order talks about can't be seen with the eyes, and they don't speak to people, either, right? Not just that, but the Order's teachings

don't say anything about angels coming to greet you when you die, either. I'm pretty sure that's nothing but a fantasy someone tacked on."

"Well…yeah, you got a point. I think the same thing, to tell you the truth."

Kuze gazed at the empty air, up to the blue sky those angels looked down from.

"Still, the angels are real."

At the end of his gaze was one. An angel only Kuze could perceive. Pure-white hair. Pure-white clothes. Pure-white wings.

Her soft, short hair and slender physique were almost like a young boy's. Her expression rarely changed. Even Kuze himself knew nothing for certain about what she was thinking or why she clung to Kuze's side.

"…You know, I think even angels get lonely."

It was at the time of creation—when numerous Visitors came and this world began—that the Word-Maker's authority to manage the world had been distributed among the angels. When the time of creation ended, their purpose ended with it, and they'd faded with the march of time… It was possible the people had stopped trying to see them for themselves.

The lost angels, even within the teachings of the Order, existed only in legends, passed down over generations.

"Kuze, have you…"

Nihilo followed Kuze's eyes. She saw nothing, only empty air. "…been looking at an angel this whole time?"

"Bweh-heh-heh. I wonder."

It was clear the angel commanded power over death. The short sword she carried in her hand, Death's Fang, was a deadly enchanted blade, capable of bringing swift death with the smallest scratch.

"…Either way, the angels are watching over us."

The angel hadn't saved anyone else. She had killed those who'd tried to kill Kuze.

That was why Kuze didn't carry a weapon. An attempt to stop the angel he believed in from killing others. He chose to fight solely by keeping death at arm's length with his great shield. The purpose of his shield was to protect his enemies.

"If you don't believe that, then they won't be able to save you, see."

The average person was sure to dismiss it all as the delusion of a religious

fanatic. Nevertheless, it was this impossible abnormality alone that made Kuze the Passing Disaster invincible.

"Does it have a name?" "…Name?"

Nihilo turned toward Kuze, her hands locked together behind her back. "I'm talking about the angel's name. If you can see an angel, then it has to

have a name, right?"

"…Bweh-heh-heh. I see. This stuff's kind of embarrassing… I've never told anyone before."

He hadn't even told Ripel, now asleep beneath the soil. "Sure does. Her name's…"

She was never once perceived by the people of this world, with one exception.

She was discarnate and incorporeal, unable to be meddled with by any means whatsoever.

She wielded an absolute authority to end life, held continuously from the time of creation.

An incarnation of fated death, who merely arrived in silence and stole everything while remaining completely unseen.

The Hallowed Cutthroat.

Nastique the Quiet Singer.