Labyrinth of the Blue Witch (15 page)

Everyone engaged in the pursuit of magic wanted a grimoire for his or her own. However, precious few could actually control the enormous magical power stored within. Over the course of history, researchers beyond counting had lost control of their grimoires to be destroyed by them. In several cases, entire cities had been destroyed, contaminating tens of thousands of people’s souls. Many grimoires had thus been lost in the process.

Despairing at the situation, a number of sorcerers and witches established LCO—the organization known as the Library. They assembled grimoires from every corner of the earth, strictly classifying them according to their uses and sealing them away. Then, they lent the grimoires out, but only to the selected few.

They did this not for the development of magic, not to protect the peace of peoples the world over, but strictly to satisfy their own curiosity and avarice—

The Library was an exceptionally arbitrary and self-righteous organization of sorcerous researchers, well suited to being a criminal organization from the moment of its inception.

LCO’s Grimoire No. 539 was being unleashed at the top of Keystone Gate, the place at the very center of the Demon Sanctuary.

An enormous scarlet magic circle had been drawn on the rooftop of the huge building in the shape of an inverted pyramid. This was a ward set up to protect the grimoire.

The magic circle had been drawn using the blood of the Island Guard’s guardsmen. The fresh blood from the wounds they had sustained while guarding Keystone Gate served as the foundation of the magical ritual.

The wounded guardsmen moaned in anguish before being discarded without a thought like broken crayons.

The oldest of the Meyer Sisters, Emma, stood in the center of the magic circle, dressed in black.

“Do you not think it is beautiful, Octavia? I feel I will be blessed with a life-changing encounter today.”

She watched as the ancient text absorbed the vitality of the guardsmen sacrificed to it and released a powerful magical surge. The sisters had not killed the guardsmen so that they could serve as fuel for the grimoire.

The scarlet witch—Octavia Meyer—seemed scornful somehow as she gazed at the bloody magic circle.

“How marvelous, sister, reading fate from meaningless things just as the ancient Stoics did.”

She did not partake in her older sister’s hobby of looking at dead humans for amusement. Her interests laid more in the spectacular strewing about of brains and guts, splatter in the pursuit of slaughter.

“Ah, sister. Are these peons remaining atop the tower not an eyesore?”

The scarlet witch looked above her head, seemingly pleading to her older sister,
Is it all right if I kill them now?

The witch was looking straight at a steel cell tower and a glass-enveloped viewing hall around it. Thanks to the sisters having taken over the rooftop, the tourists were trapped inside the hall, unable to escape. All they could do in their hall-turned-prison was helplessly gaze dumbfounded down at the unfolding tragedy.

The black witch reproached her sister.

“Let them be, Octavia. Their fear and despair shall only make the moment we realize our goal more entertaining.”

The scarlet witch sighed in apparent disappointment as she replied, “…That is a splendid idea, sister. It is a wonderful test of Deism—there shall be no miracle from God here no matter how much they pray.”

It had been nearly half the day since they’d occupied the top of the building; it was only natural they were getting bored.

Emma murmured as she carefully flipped through the grimoire’s pages.

“It feels good to make space cry out.”

Though invisible to the eyes of normal human beings, the space all around Itogami Island had countless cracks running through it, making it resemble a spiderweb. The cracks slowly continued to grow, searching for something like the feelers of an ant.

The cracks chiefly affected those who possessed a high level of magical energy, but this was a simple side effect. Even if people were caught in spatial distortions and flung somewhere, or even if someone was pulled in from another point in time, these were minor trivialities. They barely counted as entertainment to stave off boredom when compared to the great chaos that approached.

Octavia murmured as a look of envy subconsciously came over her.

“Yes, truly. I must say, the power of the Blue Witch is great indeed—”

They’d been lent No. 539 from LCO—but it was not the sisters who were actually controlling it. The Meyer Sisters belonged to First Branch, Philosophy. It was a powerful faction dealing with causality and metaphysics, but it had little interest in spells affecting physics like those for spatial control.

However, the other witch LCO had dispatched was the actual reader for No. 539. She was the new girl, a specialist in spatial control spells granted the title of
Blue Witch
.

Emma smiled as she spoke sourly.

“Naturally. She’s a witch made and born for this sole purpose, after all. Let us make fine use of her, at least until we find
it
.”

Yes—the girl was a disposable tool. She was merely a convenient puppet. A smile came over Octavia as well, like she was flattering her sister. But…

The next moment, the sisters’ smiles froze like ice. They noticed that cruel bloodlust had been trained upon them.

Their beautiful eyebrows rose as they turned their heads.

“Who’s there?!”

“How dare you sully my work of art with your filthy shoes—!”

Their previously relaxed demeanor was no longer anywhere to be found.

An intruder was walking right in, trampling on the ward they had made with a magic circle drawn with fresh blood. He possessed an extraordinary degree of magical power.

A cloud of miasma arose from the magic circle; a translucent tentacle sprouted out of the cloud.

It was the Monster of Ashdown they had used to wipe out the Island Guard unit the day before. It was the Meyer Sisters’ Guardian. It had automatically begun to intercept the alien presence it sensed entering past the ward. Countless tentacles rushed toward the intruder, smashing his body flat—

Or so they thought. That moment, he released an incredible blast that blew the Guardian’s tentacles away.

The witch sisters’ faces twisted in astonishment.

“Wha—?!”

As the ragged pieces of flesh that were once tentacles poured all around, the intruder gave them a frosty glare as he continued walking as if nothing had happened.

He wore a pure white, three-piece suit. He was a handsome blond, blue-eyed man. Great fangs protruded from his boldly, charmingly smiling mouth.

“What a pity. I thought I’d let you go if you amused me a little more, but here you are, quietly holed up and buying time. My estimation of the Ashdown Witches has taken quite a hit.”

“Y-you’re…?!”

“D-Dimitrie Vattler…?!”

The witches spoke the man’s name with halting voices. The prestigious name of Dimitrie Vattler, Master of Serpents, an aristocrat of the Warlord’s Empire in Europe, was well-known among LCO operatives, and not only because he was an Old Guard vampire. A lover of conflict, he was a rare breed of combat maniac who would consume even his own vampiric brethren for the sake of his own pleasure. To the demons and witches who operated in Europe, his existence was synonymous with terror.

Encountering the Master of Serpents in a Demon Sanctuary at the ends of the Earth was the worst digression from the plan imaginable. Easily bored, he might have killed them on the spot out of sheer whim.

Vattler completely disregarded the existence of the witches as he gave the still-running grimoire a look. But No. 539 only held his interest for a brief moment.

“So that’s what’s causing spatial anomalies all across Itogami Island…”

Visibly deflated, Vattler murmured with a simple shrug of his shoulders.

“Quite some magical power, but you’re using it like a crystal ball, aren’t you? I suppose you’re searching for something precious sealed away inside the Demon Sanctuary. I expected more… What a pity.”

A wave of dense demonic energy gushed out of his right arm. The interference caused the grimoire to cease functioning.

Vattler did not do it out of any desire to save Itogami Island. He was merely swatting flies that were annoying him after having flown all that way for nothing. That was all it took for him to smash the Meyer Sisters’ plans there and then. The scarlet witch, quivering in fear until then from the overwhelming irrationality of it all, roared. Emma tried to restrain her sister.

“Octavia, stop, please!”

But the scarlet witch had activated her own grimoire the moment she shouted in rage. It was Grimoire No. 193, the abominable text that had brought about the so-called Ashdown Tragedy.

“Monad has no window, it is only a symbol—!”

A cloud of miasma gushed out of the magic circle in response to Octavia’s chant. The cloud changed into tentacles once more. However, the color of the tentacles was different from before. This was a repulsive spotted pattern mixing black with scarlet.

The Guardian’s tentacles were imbued with a special property while receiving magical energy from the grimoire. No. 193’s ability was “Expectant Harmony.” With it, no attack could harm the Guardian, nor could any defense fend off the Guardian’s tentacles.

Even Dimitrie Vattler had no way to destroy the mottled, now-invincible tentacles. Or so Octavia firmly believed when, a moment later, Vattler’s indifferent voice pierced the scarlet witch’s ear.

“Takshaka!”

The next instant, Octavia shuddered at the incredible shock wave the vampire aristocrat unleashed. It was an overwhelming torrent of magical energy that put the output of her grimoire to shame.

Finally, the torrent took the shape of a giant snake. This was one of the nine Beast Vassals that served Dimitrie Vattler. It was a beast summoned from another world possessing power equal to that of a natural disaster. The great, malevolent serpent, colored green and reaching tens of meters in length, unleashed a beam of light from its eyes, burning the mottled tentacles away.

It took but an instant. The witch sisters’ Guardian was annihilated; the magic circle drawn with fresh blood was also burned away. Vattler had overcome the ability of Grimoire No. 193 with brute force backed up by his vast demonic power.

Octavia frailly moaned as Emma supported her from behind.

“Wha…?”

She felt like she was watching a nightmare.

Among all familiars employed by humans engaged in the magical arts, witches’ Guardians were in a class of their own. Put another way, a Guardian was the avatar of a devil, able to fight an ordinary vampire’s Beast Vassals on more than even terms. It was said that support from a grimoire made one able to hold its ground against even an Old Guard vampire. Having seen such a Guardian smashed to pieces before their eyes, the witch sisters completely lost all will to fight. Vattler was simply that much of a monster.

“I wanted you to struggle a little more, but…ah well. Bye-bye!”

With a look of obvious disappointment coming over him, Vattler commanded his Beast Vassal to attack.

To the immortal vampire aristocrat, deadly combat was one of the few pleasures that let him truly feel alive. Vattler preferred that his opponents be powerful. That didn’t mean the mere presence of powerful magical energy; the important part was simple willpower. Vattler highly prized a strong will that would resort to any tactic and any strategy to defy destiny. That was what made the Fourth Primogenitor and the teenage girls around him so exquisite. The Lion King Agency shrine maidens and the princess of Aldegia—what means would they employ to come after Vattler when the time came for him to seriously go after Kojou Akatsuki’s life? Even just the thought of it thrilled him.

In contrast, these witch sisters had quickly lost their will to fight. Vattler saw no point in letting them live; besides, he wasn’t the type to grant a single shred of mercy to begin with. But—

Just before the witch sisters were to be swallowed whole, something deflected his Beast Vassal’s attack.

The corners of Vattler’s lips curled up in apparent delight as he murmured.

“Oh my.”

A teenage boy wearing a black suit had emerged out of thin air to shield the witch sisters. He was a high school student with a languid face.

Vattler kept his Beast Vassal on standby as he provocatively asked…

“You’re…not Kojou. Who are you?”

The teenager in the black suit had the same face as Kojou. The scent of the blood flowing through him was the same as Kojou’s. However, the air about him was plainly different. It was like someone else was in the driver’s seat.

And the technique he’d employed was spatial control—the same skill used by the Witch of the Void.

The youth in the black suit went down on his knees, bowing toward Vattler with deep respect.

“If you will excuse the intrusion, Duke of Ardeal, my name is Yuuma Tokoyogi, daughter of Aya Tokoyogi, ‘the Witch of Notalia.’”

“Really,” remarked Vattler, making a charming smile. “So you’re the daughter of LCO’s leader.”

The Witch of Notalia was the Great Librarian who governed the criminal organization LCO. She was on a completely different level than the Meyer Sisters, who were mere operatives of First Branch.

However, if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d been captured and remained imprisoned there on Itogami Island.

She’d been locked away behind the prison barrier inside the Demon Sanctuary.

“I have borrowed the body of the Fourth Primogenitor to aid me and my brethren in locating the prison ward hidden in the Demon Sanctuary to breach its seal and free my mother. I would ask you to overlook our efforts.”

Vattler dismissed his Beast Vassal upon hearing Yuuma’s words.

“So LCO is doing all this to release those locked away in the prison barrier?”

A welcoming smile came over him.

The prison barrier was set up to house fiendish demons and sorcerous criminals no normal prison could hope to contain. LCO’s goal was to rescue the Witch of Notalia, the Great Librarian, being held there.