Laplace's
"Bonfire Veil of the Evil God"
— and its
Magic Inscription Liberation
.
By temporarily rewriting all surrounding space into "within a barrier," it overcomes the sole weakness of the Rejection ability — which normally required the cumbersome step of enclosing a target in a barrier — allowing it to be deployed anytime, anywhere with zero time lag. A power so broken it defies all reason.
Since it has already been activated, it's safe to say that most large-scale magic has been sealed across the board. As a result, the only available tactic in this situation is inevitably narrowed down to one.
"Hmph."
A charge. That one and only option.
For a single instant before Laplace's Rejection activates, use Enhanced universal magic to boost physical ability, close the distance in one explosive burst, slip inside his guard in an instant, and drive a fist toward his solar plexus — but.
"Guh—!"
A hard sensation.
Looking down, his outstretched fist had yet to reach Laplace.
—It was being blocked by a black wall conjured in an instant.
He'd half-expected it might come to this, but even so —
"Around my body is all I need, though. The original barrier function — "
Black wall
" — I can deploy it freely here with no restrictions whatsoever, y'know!"
In other words, just like the barrier-type magical tools that Johann and Gregorio had possessed.
What this means is that Laplace has now perfected even the art of protecting himself from sudden, surprise attacks.
The instant Ermes realized that, Laplace launched a counter—a high kick aimed straight at his head. Ermes crossed his arms to block, but the sheer difference in their builds sent him flying backward over his own guard.
—Gh!
"See? This time, I'm the one on the offensive."
Laplace pressed his advantage without letting Ermes recover from his landing stance. After all, as far as he was concerned—
—the Demon God's Fire Screen
—had no direct offensive power of its own, so the only way to win was to beat his opponent in hand-to-hand combat, so long as magic wasn't in play.
In other words, a close-range fight was inevitable. And if it came to that, Ermes—who had mastered unarmed combat to a high level—should have had the advantage. Or so it should have been.
—!
"Too slow."
In reality, it was the exact opposite. Laplace held overwhelming superiority, and Ermes was reduced to nothing but defense.
There were multiple reasons. First, Laplace's own martial abilities were extremely high. On top of that, there was the massive physique gap between the tall, well-built Laplace and Ermes, who at fifteen still possessed the slender body of a young boy.
To make matters worse, Laplace alone possessed the overwhelming advantage of that black wall—an extraordinarily powerful magical defense. And the final nail in the coffin was...
(My body... is so heavy...!)
Ermes's own, overwhelming deterioration.
He knew the cause. It was this space itself.
After all, if this place was essentially inside a barrier, then the power of "rejection" was constantly acting on Ermes as well. His magical resistance was high enough that he wouldn't lose consciousness in one fell swoop, but it was undeniable that a considerable amount of his stamina and energy was being drained.
To put it simply—an enemy of Laplace within this space would, without exception, be subjected to severe—
—movement impairment
—equivalent to being crippled.
Unlimited rejection. Instantaneous defense through a barrier permitted only for the caster. It restricts the enemy's actions — but equally, it constrains the caster's own magic and physical abilities.
...The impression he'd formed moments ago hadn't been wrong in the slightest.
As long as he remained in this space — this man was close to invincible.
...And yet.
He kept desperately clawing for some small opening. Despite the hopeless disadvantage, he searched for any gap — parrying with everything he had, enduring with single-minded determination.
Seeing him like that, Laplace — who still had composure to spare — opened his mouth even as he maintained the pressure.
"'...Thoughts are beautiful. Desires are beautiful things.'"
"!"
He spoke in a tone that carefully traced the words his former self had once uttered.
"'Neither people nor magic are sinless. Even magic born from impure thoughts — there should still be a way to use it for good. Because magic is supposed to be something beautiful.' That was it, wasn't it? The Boss told me. Said that was your whole philosophy about magic.
—So here's the thing."
And then — this man. All at once, he dropped his voice to an entirely different register.
One breath.
"'—"
"Magic born from dark thoughts —"
","
"dark thoughts —"
"just as they are —"
"to go and use it —"
"won't do.'"
"or is it not?"
"?"
"——"
Without a doubt.
A question that carves deep into the very heart of Ermes.
"Ignoring the ideals, the feelings, and the wishes that gave birth to that magic.
Jealousy. Hatred. Despair. Resentment. Magic that was born from nurturing such negative emotions—fearfully fierce, grotesquely ugly feelings—subjugating every last shred of them, sealing them away, glossing over it all, then building a pretty flower garden atop filth by slapping on a nice smile and a coat of kindness—do you really think that's the right thing to do?
—Does that truly count as 'affirming their feelings'? Hey. Isn't that the very thing you despise—the outright twisting of one's feelings?"
"………Ah"
What Ermes had been averting his gaze from this entire time.
The contradiction he'd deliberately avoided mentioning, refused to face head-on. Laplace exposes it all, thoroughly.
"They exist, you know. In this world, there's magic born from irredeemable malice—magic that can only ever be wielded through irredeemable malice. Even such feelings become magic. Even from such feelings—"
"—magic—"
"—can be—"
"—created."
"……That's precisely because you never understood any of that until now—'"
"Veil of the Wicked God"
"'—that you haven't been able to use it all this time, right?"
As if to flaunt it, Laplace unfurls his own magic.
……And the fact that he wasn't wrong was already proven by Ermes' own actions moments before.
"My grounds for thinking so, I can infer from past experience."
"Hk—"
"And on top of that, let me tell you. ……You're essentially the same as Archbishop Johann."
Continuing on.
Alongside the shocking revelation, Laplace presses the attack relentlessly, driving further.
"Archbishop Johann harbored a fatal flaw — he could only empathize with malice. Whether it was innate or acquired, I couldn't tell you. That's why he schemed to build such a twisted kingdom, a twisted world.
……Meanwhile, you. You are the polar opposite of that twisted archbishop, and yet exactly the same. In other words—"
Laplace drives straight into the distortion that had been festering in Ermes' heart, nurtured all this time.
"—You can only
empathize with
goodwill,
can't you?"
"Hk, ah."
"I don't know what happened to you. But if I had to guess, at some point your heart was broken and wiped clean — and from there you were raised surrounded almost entirely by 'good people.' You'd encountered bad people too, of course, but every last one of them was either insignificant or someone who could be trampled on without effort."
Laplace tears it all open.
With his extraordinary intellect, he lays bare even the circumstances of Ermes' past that he should have had no way of knowing — and does so with terrifying accuracy.
"As a result, you came to believe this: that good feelings are 'correct' and bad feelings are 'wrong.' How admirable — the very pinnacle of a saint so perfect you'd want to use him as a textbook for moral education. And so you became convinced that magic must be something beautiful. Well, of course — you've only ever seen 'beautiful magic,' and you refuse to acknowledge anything else."
"You praise only the magic born from goodwill, while magic born from malice — you twist its very nature and force it to be used through goodwill alone."
"……"
"……Hey. Tell me — how are you any different from the princes and nobles you've been defeating all this time?"
She had been twisting the thoughts of those around her to suit her own convenience.
Laplace tells her that she is the same as the people he had been rejecting all this time.
"Goodwill is wonderful and beautiful and righteous, while malice is inferior and ugly and wrong."
"So in the end, good intentions win, and bad intentions are naturally weeded out."
"Where it all leads is 'a world where everyone is smiling and at peace.' Clean, clean—nothing but clean, pristine ideals. That's your essence, and you'd convinced yourself that everything was like that. Yeah—"
And then.
"—Give me a fucking break."
Laplace closed the distance again in a single breath.
Before she could react, he slipped inside Ermes's guard—and seized her by the collar.
"
Look at me,
Ermes."
At close range, he drove his dark gaze into her.
"Don't look away from the filth. Don't deceive your heart. Don't hide behind pretty words."
"I am, as you put it, an existence that deserves to be weeded out. I have no grand special purpose of 'actually being' anything—I'm nothing more than an existence that wishes for nothing but destruction. A genuine, honest-to-god villain."
"—But you know what?!"
The instant Ermes tried to brush him off, Laplace threw a devastating punch.
Without letting up, he resumed his assault—both with his fists and with his words, hammering them into her.
"My will, my desires, my ideals—I have never once thought they were 'wrong'! There's nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to hide! If anything, I'll shout it out with pride—"
And with that, he threw both arms wide open.
As if flaunting it, as if displaying it to the world. He declared in a booming voice.
"—I hate everything about this country!!"
"——"
"It's disgusting. Infuriating. Impossible. Meaningless. It makes me sick."
"——"
"So I'll destroy it."
"There isn't a shred of doubt or hesitation in that conviction."
By now,
Ermes—who had endured this relentless assault—could barely even defend herself.
"But even so. Even if I destroy it all, the people of this country probably won't even reflect on it. They'll keep doing what they've always done—shifting all the blame onto anything but themselves. They'll cast themselves as tragic heroes in their own downfall, wallow in self-pity, and die without ever admitting that they were the ones who brought destruction upon themselves."
"——!"
"That's the part I can't quite stomach. The thought that I can't even leave a single mark on them—it's hard to swallow."
"...But I thought you could. You, who trained your magic so diligently, who watched over this country—I believed you would face our malice head-on. That you would stand as a true 'enemy.'"
And then, at last.
"Looks like you were a letdown after all. You're the same as the rest—a creature that can only look away from things it doesn't want to see."
"...How could someone who can't even understand malice possibly defeat me?"
Laplace's fist tore through Ermes.
"I'll apologize, at least. ...Sorry. Seems like I was forcing my own expectations onto you."
With those cold, cutting words, Ermes—drained of all strength—collapsed on the spot.
◆
"Mr. Ermes!"
"I'm coming—!"
So they had finally broken through the offensive of Yurugen's vengeful spirits. Sara and Lukius had their magic at the ready and were heading toward Laplace.
The sheer volume of attacks shouldn't have been half-hearted, so the fact that they'd broken through was praiseworthy in itself.
……But.
It was already too late. Ermes had already been silenced, and even if the battle were still ongoing, it wouldn't have mattered. Because—
"—Did you forget there was someone else?"
Laplace murmured with a thin smile. The very instant Sara and Lukius's eyes went wide—
"Bloodline Magic—'
Destiny of the White Night
'"
The one who had remained silent until now—the organization's top dog, Chrono von Feibraad—finished his Chant and unveiled his Bloodline Magic for the first time—
And then, a few seconds later.
"…Ngh, u—" "Gah—"
Sara and Lukius had collapsed onto the floor.
……Let me say this once more.
The very
two—
Sara
and Lukius—
They were defeated unilaterally and collapsed in mere seconds.
Probably the most bewildered of all were the two of them themselves.
But even so, they couldn't afford to give up. Both of them gathered their strength once more, determined to at least manage to read their opponent's movements this time.
"...Ah, since this is a good opportunity, I'll let you know something."
As if to mock that resolve, Laplace spoke with an actual laugh playing across his lips.
"
Your Boss
has Dual aptitude.
"
Without a shred of exaggeration, he delivered it—a fresh layer of despair painted on top of everything.
"—" "Th-that's..."
Dual aptitude.
Meaning, beyond the magic they had just received, there was one more.
For some reason, they knew with absolute certainty—there was one more magic, and it was impossible for it to be weaker than what they had just faced.
That fact, that shock—even for these two, it was enough to shatter the last of the knee strength they had barely managed to hold onto.
Yurugen, who had sealed Katia away and still retained a massive surplus of power.
Magic Inscription Liberation—
wielding it to single-handedly defeat Ermes, was Laplace.
And Chrono, who had overwhelmingly defeated both Sara and Lukius and still remained an utter enigma.
—There was no winning.
How could anyone present not share that thought? The gap in power was simply too eloquent.
"...Now then," Laplace said.
As though he had been waiting for the Third Princess's faction to confirm the facts, Laplace stepped forward. —This was where he would make his move.
That was right. If all he wanted was to defeat them, he could have done it any number of ways—the disparity in combat strength was that overwhelming.
And yet he had deliberately created this complicated setup... and made a point of demonstrating the difference in power to one person in particular. There was, of course, a reason for it. He had anticipated this from the moment he first met "him," and the instant he understood "him" true nature, he had made up his mind. It was the second objective he had ranked as next in importance only to securing Estia Magna.
It was this.
"Yo. You're not gonna fall back asleep, are you? You can sit up by now, right? I got something to talk to you about, so c'mon—make an effort and get up."
With those words, Laplace crouched down beside the boy he had just defeated.
Just as he had expected, the boy managed to sit up even if he couldn't stand. Laplace met his eyes and offered a smile—gentle, yet ferocious.
"I'll admit my expectations were off the mark, but there's no question you're strong. And if that's the case, there are things we can work with."
"So let me ask you again—the answer to what I asked you the first time we met."
With those final words, Laplace delivered the blow that would utterly dismantle the Third Princess's faction.
"—An invitation. Come join us, Ermes."
Next time, things might start moving in all sorts of directions. Stay tuned!