Chapter 10
Under a pleasantly clear autumn sky, air colder than the north wind hung all around them.
Towering before Cyril was a pea that had grown as large as a giant tree.
The pea lashed out with its long vines, aiming for Cyril. But before they could ensnare him, a barrage of ice arrows rained down and sliced them apart.
(Damn, this is endless...!)
Cyril continued chanting rapidly, preparing for the next attack.
Because Cyril's body absorbed magic power, removing his magical brooch allowed him to quickly recover the magic power he had expended.
Even so, he couldn't continue using magic endlessly. Repeatedly casting spells strained his body, and his concentration gradually began to waver.
(Even so, I can't rest...!)
At times like this, he keenly wished he could use magic without incantations, like Monica.
Shortened incantations were the best Cyril could manage, so he had to begin the next one immediately to prepare for the following attack. Inevitably, his breathing grew ragged.
While maintaining an ice wall to keep the vines from going after Raul, he cut down the vines attacking him with ice arrows, drawing all of the pea's attacks toward himself.
It was simple to describe, but carrying it out required incredible concentration.
Above all, a single mistake in an incantation would mean certain defeat. That pressure made Cyril rush... and narrowed his field of vision.
The instant an ice spear sliced through the vines in front of him, vines that had crept up from below coiled around Cyril's foot and lifted his slender body into the air.
Ggh... damn it...
The instant he was hanging upside down, blood rushed to his head, and the magic power within his body was drained at the same time. It happened incredibly fast. No wonder the pea had been able to drain Monica's magic power in an instant, despite her being one of the Seven Sages.
(Even so... my magic power hasn't run dry yet!)
Cyril had a magic-absorbing constitution. Because of it, he could slightly counter the pea's magic-draining attack.
In that tiny window of time, Cyril created an ice spear and severed the vines coiled around his ankle.
With a wet rip, the vine broke, and Cyril's body was flung to the ground.
...?!
Unluckily, Cyril was flung onto a slope away from the field. Unable even to break his fall, he tumbled down it, rolling over and over.
＊ ＊ ＊
There are two kinds of people in this world: those with a talent for sensing danger and those without.
Melissa Roseberg firmly believed she belonged to the former group, so the moment she spotted the giant pea, she turned around and headed back the way she had come.
This was bad. Very bad. Specifically, if her relatives found out she had been involved, Melissa would finally be expelled from the Roseberg family.
I don't know anything, and I only came to this mountain for a little forest bathing... Yes, that's right. I'm just an adorable passerby who knows nothing.
Repeating that to herself, Melissa hurriedly tried to make her way down the mountain.
Just then, the bushes behind her shook violently, and a human being burst out of them. More precisely, he came tumbling down the slope—right beside Melissa.
Eek?!
Melissa let out a short scream, leaped away, and stared at the young man who had rolled down the slope.
He looked about the same age as her younger brother, Raul. He was a slender young man with long platinum-blond hair tied behind his back. Judging from his clothes, he was probably connected to the House of Hiohne.
(This is bad, this is bad, this is bad. If someone from the marquis's house realizes I was involved...)
The young man staggered to his feet. He was strikingly handsome, with blue eyes framed by long lashes like the finest jewels!
(No, this is no time to be staring.)
It would be bad if someone from the House of Hiohne saw her face.
When Melissa hurriedly hid her face behind her parasol, the young man spoke in a concerned voice.
I am terribly sorry for showing you such an unsightly spectacle. Are you hurt, Lady?
His earnest voice, the sort one used when addressing a lady, made Melissa's heart leap. When was the last time anyone had called her "Lady"?
Oh, y-yes, I'm quite all right...
That's a relief.
Melissa lifted the edge of her parasol just a little and looked up at the young man's face.
The young man gazed at Melissa with concern. He was genuinely worried about her safety.
I don't believe there are any settlements around here... Have you lost your way?
Oh-ho-ho, y-yes, something like that.
Naturally, she kept the truth—that she had come to see her little brother's miserable face—to herself.
Melissa put on a charming smile and surreptitiously studied the young man.
(Oh my, he seems so incredibly sincere and serious. He's nothing like the flighty men in my family... He's from the House of Hiohne, isn't he?)
Melissa had been away from high society for the past few years, so her memory was hazy, but she was fairly sure the Marquis of Hiohne had only had daughters. If so, was this young man a relative?
Um, may I ask your name...?
Just then, the bushes rustled, and the pea's vines came reaching toward them. It was the pea Melissa had tampered with by altering the fertilizer.
Melissa stifled a "Yikes!" and let out a shrill scream.
Aah!
Look out!
The young man shielded Melissa with his back and recited a shortened incantation. An ice spear shredded the attacking vines.
(Oh my, how wonderful! He shielded me!)
Melissa gripped her parasol tightly, her freckled cheeks flushing red.
The young man fixed a sharp gaze on the pea ahead of them, then glanced at Melissa and spoke.
This place is dangerous. I'll buy you some time, so get down the mountain at once.
Oh, y-yes, thank you. How kind of you!
She would have liked to talk with the young man a little longer, but running into Raul would have been awkward.
Melissa spun on her heel and ran off, clutching her pounding chest.
＊ ＊ ＊
As he watched the red-haired woman run down the mountain path, Cyril could not hide his dismay.
(Who would have thought an ordinary person would wander this deep into the mountains!)
If he thought about it calmly, her outfit was hardly that of an ordinary person, but Cyril was too panicked to notice even that.
He could not allow anyone from the Marquisate of Hiohne to be harmed. With a sense of duty as the future lord in his heart, Cyril faced the pea.
(If I don't stop it here, it may go down the mountain and hurt people...)
More than anything, he was worried about Monica.
When a person's magic power ran out, they entered a state akin to anemia and became unable to move.
There were exceptional mages who could cheerfully chase down their apprentices, hang them upside down, and subject them to smoke attacks even after running out of magic power, but such people were exceptions among exceptions.
(Hurry up, Raul Roseberg!)
Cyril glared in the direction Raul had run and involuntarily opened his eyes wide.
Something enormous was approaching from behind the pea.
It was a huge body made of green vines. If that were all, it would be no different from the pea, but "it" was clearly something else.
If the pea was merely an ungainly mass formed by twisting vines together, "it" was a deliberate creation.
It was a dragon made of intertwined green vines.
In shape, it resembled a wingless, bipedal earth dragon. But it had no scales; its thick legs and torso were all made of intertwined vines.
The vines bore viciously thick thorns, and white roses bloomed here and there... It was made entirely of roses.
What in the world is that...?
Cyril stared blankly and spotted a familiar head of red hair at the rose dragon's feet.
Waving with a smile and calling, "Hey, hey!" was Raul Roseberg, the 〈Thorn Witch〉.
What do you think? Cool, right?
Raul wore an innocent smile, as though he were showing off a prized toy.
Cyril abandoned his incantation and shouted.
What is that bizarre dragon?!
I just imbued the roses with my magic!
You just imbued it with magic?
With temporary enchantment, which merely channels magic power into something, the most one could usually do was make grass move a little.
It was even more absurd that tiny dried roses had grown to this size.
(This is... the full power of the 〈Thorn Witch〉, the man with the greatest magical power in the country...!)
The first 〈Thorn Witch〉, Raul's ancestor, was said to have turned a rose garden into a fortress and destroyed an enemy army.
Cyril had thought that was an exaggerated legend, but the sight before him made it seem entirely possible.
The handsome mage said to be a throwback to the first 〈Thorn Witch〉 scratched his head as he looked up at the white-rose dragon.
Hmm, what should I name it...? I used white roses, so... Go! 'White Hurricane No. 1'!
The rose dragon, given an exceedingly stupid name, naturally did not make a sound.
The rose dragon swept down the surrounding trees with its massive body, gliding over the ground as it closed in on the pea.
It was unclear whether the pea possessed intelligence. But it certainly seemed to recognize the rose dragon as a threat.
Or perhaps it had been drawn to the rose dragon's overwhelming magic power; either way, the pea extended its vines toward the rose dragon.
Too easy!
Raul waved a finger through the air. A green tail bristling with sharp thorns then lashed out and tore the pea's vines apart. Its physical strength was just as extraordinary as its size.
Raul shouted.
Now, while 'White Hurricane No. 1' has it pinned down, get Monica!
...You do know where she is, I assume?
It had been quite some time since Monica had been swallowed by the pea.
Cyril currently had no idea where inside the pea Monica was.
...
...
Raul slapped his forehead with a pat.
Whoops. I hadn't thought that far ahead.
You're no friend of mine.