Misha's wild barrage of sorcery had the whole quiet village trembling on its axis. The one mercy was that the ward the Imperial Army had raised still held, sparing the village at large from the worst of the damage.
BANG—! BANG—! BANG—!
Every time the imperial troops caught sight of Moor, they fired rifles engraved with binding formulas. And every time, Moor hid himself inside his black mana. He moved as though his body were part of the fog itself, until the soldiers began to feel they were chasing a phantom.
By now, the whole interior of the ward was thick with the black fog Moor had spread.
"Here at last."
After a long, winding detour, Moor surfaced near the doctor, who lay bound among the imperial soldiers. Without pausing, he rattled the skulls of five of them with his mana and dropped them cold.
"Doctor. I believe you and I have things to discuss."
Moor unwound the doctor's restraints with magic, smiling brightly.
"I'm sorry I deceived you — but please, help us."
"My my... isn't that a bit shameless?"
KA-BOOM—!
Attacks of every kind came flying in from the left of the doctor and Moor — aimed, unmistakably, at the doctor. Moor blocked them all with his black mana, entirely at his ease.
"A paladin, shielding a murderer..."
"A murderer?"
From the direction of the attacks came the imperial soldier with the oversized greatsword, a crowd of subordinates at his back.
"That black fog — it blocks spellwork and physical blows alike. Sorcery the likes of which I've never seen nor heard of."
"Kind of you to say. This sorcery is an original of mine — naturally you've never seen it."
Perfectly relaxed, Moor drew out a fresh cigarette and set it between his lips.
"Facing the Imperial Army head-on, with a Sage flying overhead — and he stops for a leisurely smoke."
"Because the situation allows for it. Besides, a minute ago you were telling me that thing isn't a Sage. More to the point — this 'murderer' of yours. You mean the good doctor here?"
"What? Unbelievable. You stirred up all this chaos without knowing anything at all?"
The man — Junior General Rupen, by his own introduction — lifted the oversized greatsword, fury rolling off him.
Cha-chak.
In answer, Moor took the cigarette from his lips with his left hand, and with his right drew a Glock and leveled it at the soldiers.
"Well, no matter. The moment a Sage and 'remains' are involved, there is nothing to concede — this man comes with us."
WHOOSH— CRASH—!
The words had barely left Moor when a silver flash shot in from the far distance and slammed into Misha. She dropped straight out of the sky.
"Misha?!"
"Don't worry! I told him to go easy."
The doctor had made to bolt toward her; Moor's shout pinned him in place. And in that same moment, three imperial soldiers broke into a run for the spot where Misha had fallen.
"Ah~ no you don't. No, no."
BANG—! BANG—! BANG—!
Moor fired the Glock at the running soldiers. All three rounds must have struck true — every one of the men crumpled mid-stride.
"Not content with lounging about — now you look away from me too?!"
Junior General Rupen closed on Moor in a burst and swung. For a man carrying an oversized greatsword, his quickness beggared belief. And the enormous blade succeeded — it sheared Moor in two, corner to corner.
But the body the sword had split simply lost its outline, and dissolved back into black fog.
"Unbelievable."
Leaving Rupen's groan behind him, Moor surfaced from the black fog in the man's blind spot and fired. But Rupen turned his blade as if he had known all along, and blocked the mana round.
"A high-grade mage, using guns. You think trash like that can kill me?"
"Ah! Of course not."
BOOM—! BOOM—! BOOM—!
Something came flying at Moor's back — fired by Rupen's men. Before anyone could even see what it was, the black fog swallowed it and unmade it. Moor had shaped the sorcery with a flick of his fingers.
In that instant, Rupen felt mana massing fast in the sky overhead.
"Scatter!"
Almost before the shout was out, dozens of bolts of lightning came down.
They struck home — on Rupen, and on every imperial soldier near him.
"Magic past Depth 5 takes me a little time, you see."
Moor spat out the burned-down cigarette as he spoke.
"Urgh... hack."
"And he takes that without blacking out."
Moor regarded Junior General Rupen with genuine surprise.
The man had driven his sword into the earth and stood propped against it like a cane, barely upright.
"Do you have any idea what you're doing?!"
"Of course I don't! But I'm curious — so I'll be finding out shortly."
Moor put a Glock round into Rupen's head and knocked him out. The Glock fired Depth 2 mana rounds, with a stun formula engraved into the frame — though for an untrained civilian, of course, even that could easily kill.
BOOM—!
Across the field, with a great crack of sound, Misha shot back up into the sky.
"You—! Where do you think you're going?!"
Before she could climb out of reach, Ran leaped, caught her by the ankle — and spiked her into the ground. Around the point of impact, mana churned as wild as a rising typhoon.
Meanwhile, the soldiers who had held the outer ring came flooding in around Moor and Ran — but Moor's black fog kept them from closing easily.
A few forced their way through regardless; not one of them reached Ran and Misha before Moor's Glock dropped them cold.
"Moor, how long am I supposed to keep this thing pinned?!"
Ran had Misha flat on the ground, straining against her thrashing as he shouted.
"Just a little longer — this one is really not easy... There. Almost done."
Even as he answered, Moor bore down harder, gathering his mana.
Just then Misha erupted with raw mana, trying to hurl Ran off. His hands never loosened.
"Oh, come on!"
Fed up, Ran let his silver energy burst outward. The mana around Misha's body crystallized silver — then shattered into countless pieces. And with it, part of the black fog Moor had spread around the two of them crystallized too.
"Ran! You're making this harder for me too!"
"Ah! I can't help it!"
"Misha, calm down. I'm all right!"
The moment the mana storm around Ran and Misha eased, the doctor ran toward them.
"Hey — hey! It's dangerous!"
Moor tried to stop him, but the man had already reached Misha's side.
Pressed for time now, Moor worked his fingers faster, chanting the incantation aloud as he went.
"There — complete. Good work, Ran."
At once, the black fog Moor had spread began to draw in around them.
It began to whirl about the four of them.
For a few seconds the black fog spun — and then it vanished without a trace, taking all four inside it along.
***
"Now then, doctor. We have time to spare — shall we talk this through, slowly? I suspect you have a great deal to tell."
Inside the shabby lodgings.
The group teleport had left the room in disarray. Not one person in it spared that a thought.
Exhaustion was written all over Moor. It took visible effort just to set a cigarette between his lips. He glanced at Misha, bound head to toe in white cloth. She lay utterly still.
"First — Misha, you called her? Who is she? And why is the Imperial Army trying to take you?"
"Misha is my wife. And the army wants me because... through me, they mean to use Misha as a living weapon."
The doctor answered with his head bowed, seated across from Moor. Beside them, Ran lay half-sprawled on the bed, turning the grimoire Misha had carried over and over in his hands.
"You spoke as though your wife had passed... or no, is it my fault for reading the nuance wrong?"
There was an edge of irritation in Moor's voice.
"If I tell it from the beginning... Misha was a brilliant mage. And when she obtained that grimoire — one of the 'remains' — she became a Sage."
Partway through the telling, the doctor began to weep.
"That was where the tragedy began."
"The price... the urge to kill came over her."
"Yes. Exactly."
The doctor looked at Misha for a moment, then went on.
"My wife endured it. She killed no one — no one at all. But in exchange, she was the one dying. We crossed the whole Empire searching for a way. And in the end... Misha died, here in this village."
The doctor steadied his breath and continued. The moment Ran heard that the bound woman had been a Sage, he started paying real attention.
"And somewhere in all that, a thought came to me. The price had killed my wife — so if that price were paid, even belatedly... might she not live again?"
"So first you used necromancy, and made your wife into this. Now I understand why the army calls you a murderer."
"Yes. That's right. And so..."
"Sick bastard."
Ran spat the curse as he listened.
"Curse me all you like. But if it means my wife can live..."
"No — enough. One question. The person who gave her that grimoire — who taught you the method. Who was it?"
Moor had cut the doctor off mid-word. Caught off guard, the man could only stare at him blankly.
"An idea this far beyond the bounds of sanity doesn't come out of an ordinary man's head. On top of that — a Depth 3 sorcerer, working necromancy? Someone taught you. Who?!"
Moor's pupils were trembling. He looked ready to seize the man by the collar at any moment, and the doctor forced his mouth open.
"I don't know exactly who she was. Only that she was a young woman with red hair... and that she and my wife were quite close..."
"Unbelievable."
"What's wrong, Moor?"
Moor's face twisted hard and he shot up from his chair. A moment later he had folded back into calm.
Ran watched the change with open fascination.
"Hmm... where do I even begin. Ran — the 'remains' we've collected so far. What were they?"
"Um... an earring made from a shard of dragon tooth, the necklace with the dragon's finger, a hairpin made from a piece of horn... Why?"
Ran counted them off, folding down a finger for each as he dug through his memory.
"Right. So — what would you say is different between all of those and this grimoire, made from dragon hide?"
Ran stared at the grimoire in his hands, thinking hard — then gave up and looked at Moor.
"The workmanship. Everything before this used the 'remains' in something close to their original form. This grimoire went through a refining process so absurd you can't even guess what the original piece was."
Ran's eyes went wide, and he turned the grimoire over again with new attention.
"There are only a handful of people in this world capable of work like this... For now, we hand these two over to the Order and get ready to move. With a little luck, you might be meeting the Sage you're after very soon."
At Moor's words, Ran shot bolt upright on the bed.
"Ah — but Moor. We fought the Imperial Army. What about that?"
"No need to worry there. That was an off-the-books operation on their side too. By the look of it, they wanted to puppet this doctor and wield a Sage's power for themselves — so even if it blows up, the people above us will handle it."
Moor set him at ease.
"Then... what becomes of us?"
The doctor looked at Moor as he asked it.
"All things return to their rightful course in the end — the world's will, its balance, something of the sort, no? As for what you've done... you'll receive the punishment that fits it."