Chapter 139

#139 The Tin Knight and the Golden Alchemist (9)

Suddenly, my vision went black.

Seated in my chair, you stared blankly at the black screen.

It took my brain a few seconds to comprehend that my connection with the ‘Tin Knight’ had been severed due to using up all my magical power.

It felt like being blinded without any warning.

They say that sight accounts for 77% of a person’s senses, right?

Considering how much more the ‘Tin Knight’ perceived compared to what I could sense outside the monitor, it was an apt analogy.

Gradually relaxing the tension in my shoulders, I leaned back against the chair.

It had been quite an intense battle that required extreme concentration.

Perhaps saying I fought with all my might was a bit exaggerated, but it was certainly the fiercest fight I had experienced as the ‘Tin Knight’ so far.

The initial skirmish, the scattered battles in Giant country, the naval combat to reach the island, the frantic sprint to dodge giant arrows, bumper cars in the plains, and the final showdown on the rooftops.

If we considered only the moments of intensity, the fight against Kalidahs was no walk in the park, but while that encounter was brief and intense, this one involved a long series of battles.

Especially the last fight was overflowing with tension.

Individually, the enemies weren’t that formidable, but the problem was that hundreds of them came at us with a quality above a certain threshold.

It wasn’t just about cutting down the enemies in front of me; I had to simultaneously cancel their powerful attacks without missing a beat and manage my dwindling magical power.

I really felt like I experienced a proper war of attrition.

Well, at least the sense of accomplishment when clearing it was worth it.

If not for the fact that a minor mistake could mean the lives of my comrades, I might have even felt like clapping my hands in enjoyment.

Regardless of fatigue, I was stretching my limbs out of habit when the words ‘Waiting’ finally vanished from the screen, and the monitor lit up again.

Another sense that had been firmly cut off also returned.

You opened your eyes wide.

It was time to start the story of the ‘Tin Knight’ again.

***

The collapse was swift.

Just moments ago, the homunculi had displayed their fighting spirit, unfazed by the deaths of my comrades, but upon the West Witch’s fall, they threw down their weapons and started fleeing.

“─It’s poetic justice. Not a single one of those kids ran to help their parents.”

At the sound of the voice behind me, Dorothea, who was pouring her magical power into the ‘Tin Knight’s’ back, glanced over her shoulder.

Franka, who had somehow made it to the rooftop, was looking at the broken golden orb with a strangely complicated expression.

“Look at her sneaking around right after the fight ended.”

“Stop talking nonsense. Who was it that defended your back?”

Dorothea shrugged at Franka’s sharp retort.

It was just a light jab at the awkward timing; she wasn’t serious anyway.

Considering how ragged Franka looked, totally uncharacteristic of her usual glamour, alongside her two panting monkeys, it was evident how fierce the fight had been below.

After confirming the renewed fire in the ‘Tin Knight’s’ eyes, the group approached the fallen West Witch.

Elphaba’s condition was horrifying.

Her left shoulder was severed all the way down to her right thigh, leaving her bisected body sprawled apart.

Her aged and wrinkled face was twisted in shock and disbelief.

“She never thought she would be defeated so pitifully.”

Dorothea thought to herself that it was indeed understandable.

Having a deep familiarity with death more than anyone else present, Dorothea had already begun to suspect that most of the bizarre beings the West Witch commanded were, in fact, homunculi.

Every creature in this battle was Elphaba’s soldier, citizen, and slave.

Who could have imagined that such a powerful force could be defeated by merely a four-person party?

“Umm… it’s completely over now, right?”

Adelheid asked cautiously.

She looked perilously unstable, standing with her dual swords leaning on her staff.

[‘Tin Knight’ advises against using phrases like “It’s over” or “He took care of it,” as they may trigger resurrection magic!]

[‘Tin Knight’ says that if additional combat comes up, he wouldn’t mind that either!]

“Eek!? M-Madam Witch, is that true?”

“Not a chance. That kind of magic doesn’t exist.”

Dorothea firmly denied it, though she seemed a bit uneasy, as she poked Elphaba’s corpse with her staff.

She asked Franka with a skeptical expression.

“By the way, didn’t they say that the West Witch’s monkeys number nearly a thousand? I thought reinforcements would definitely come, but why aren’t they?”

Franka replied nonchalantly.

“They didn’t come because you defeated them before they could. Well, there’s no need to worry. Judging by the reactions of the homunculi left behind, they probably won’t ignite a desire for revenge after realizing their master is dead.”

“Hm.”

Just then, as Dorothea crossed her arms with a skeptical look, she spoke up.

“Tin Knight, could you help me for a moment?”

Sofia stepped forward and extended her hand to the Tin Knight.

As he understood her intent, he grasped her hand, and her magical power started flowing into him.

As I transferred the wine-colored magical power with my eyes, I saw red cracks shimmering around Elphaba’s corpse.

After confirming that Sofia had also shared her power with the other members, the Tin Knight reached out toward the cracks.

The visions summoned by ‘Tuberosum’s Chalice’ were always diverse.

Sometimes they were plays experienced from someone’s perspective, stories sung by bards, or vivid images.

This time, what unfolded before their eyes was something nearing the end.

Someone dressed in pure white garments, as if woven from light, sat on a throne made of emerald.

Someone clad in pitch-black attire, as if woven from darkness, sat on a throne made of bronze.

A girl in a green pointed hat and witch’s robes gazed up at a mural depicting them side by side with admiring eyes.

─The vision has ended.

My sight returned to normal.

Dorothea frowned.

“This one was surprisingly short.”

“Yeah, but was that person looking up at the mural… ah.”

Adel’s words faltered, filled with confusion.

Slump, and Elphaba’s corpse began to dissolve.

It wasn’t a decaying sight. It was neither clay nor mud. It was closer to transparent water.

Before they could react, the once-great witch transformed into liquid.

The only things left were her attire and dark blue gloves, swaying in the waves as proof of her past existence.

***

Outside the West Witch’s barrier.

The space around a massive rock shimmered, and a small shadow fell from the air.

It was a girl with a beautiful appearance.

Though she appeared to be barely in her early teens, her body proportions and features were impeccably harmonious.

She radiated more of an aura akin to a meticulously crafted sculpture than that of a natural being.

However, her expression was a twisted grimace unbecoming of her beautiful appearance.

“How dare you, how dare you! Me, to those brats!”

Her voice was youthful, but her tone exuded an oddly aged feel.

It was like an elderly man had taken over the body of a young girl, creating a dissonance.

The girl, with her beautiful features filled with resentment and venom, gritted her teeth.

“Enjoy your hollow victory. If you think my power is merely this—”

“Such a dreadful sight.”

─The cold and elegant disdain interrupted her vow of revenge.

At the voice that sounded from behind, the girl snapped her head around.

The visitor, with hair as white as snow, spoke calmly to the girl.

“Regardless of the circumstances, a defeat is a defeat. How shameful to make excuses for not putting in your all.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed.

With a hint of caution and suspicion, she asked.

“Who are you?”

“Hmm?”

The white-haired intruder tilted their head, looking puzzled.

Still, their expression remained unchanged, adding to the peculiar atmosphere.

“Ah, I see. My apologies. You are not Elphaba, are you?”

“What?”

The girl’s face contorted in disbelief.

“What nonsense are you spouting? I am—”

“No, you are merely a homunculus who copied Elphaba’s memories just before her death. Your capabilities are lacking, and it seems the transfer of the soul was not properly executed.”

The intruder, Alingd Goodwitch, continued with an air of admiration.

“You’ve exceeded my expectations. I thought the peculiar synergy of the necromancer and that magical automaton would pressure Elphaba considerably… who would have thought you’d kill her without even giving her a chance to flee? A satisfactory outcome. It seems letting them drain their strength in the Martial Arts Tournament had worth after all.”

The girl, feeling slighted by the intruder’s ramblings, snapped back angrily.

“What nonsense! I am Elphaba! Elphaba Trope! The Golden Alchemist!”

She gripped the necklace around her neck.

It resembled an eye, a magical device used by the witch Elphaba to command her homunculi.

If she signaled, the hundreds of homunculi guarding outside the barrier would rush to her side in an instant.

But, for some reason, Alingd showed no intention of stopping the girl.

Initially, the girl had scoffed at the visitor’s overconfidence and naivety, but soon her expression hardened.

“What is this? Why… why isn’t anyone…?”

“Nameless homunculus, it seems you’ve inherited your creator’s foolishness. Just the fact that I can wait for you here without a care is the answer to that question.”

At those words, disbelief and horror spread across the girl’s face.

“No way. No, no! That can’t be! That’s impossible!”

“Well, it was quite troublesome. Especially that pirate crew on the golden ship was quite a pain. I never got a chance to finish my work, though.”

The girl couldn’t close her mouth.

Only then did she realize there had been no word from the homunculi she’d summoned from Elphaba’s forces.

And she understood the future that awaited her.

The girl’s eyes brimmed with murderous intent.

Fortunately, her opponent remained lax and unguarded.

The group inside the barrier was likely too busy reorganizing after checking the interior to notice; if she could just eliminate Alingd, she could definitely escape!

Click!

Some of Elphaba’s belongings reconfigured into a crossbow.

Already tightly loaded, it was fired with fierce speed the moment the girl flicked her finger.

As the arrow aimed to pierce Alingd, that instant,

《I won’t allow it.》

The whirlwind triggered by the masked figure shattered the arrow instantly.

The girl’s body, which had been behind it, fell apart as well.

“Uh.”

Her dying gasp was excessively brief and fleeting.

Like being cut apart by countless knives, the girl’s flesh was shattered and scattered across the ground.

Alingd raised an eyebrow.

“Bard. I was still in the middle of my story.”

At the reprimanding tone, the green-masked fiend flinched.

《My apologies. It was a mistake.》

In an instant, the green mask’s mouth turned blue.

《Exactly! How dare you, feeble-minded fool! I should have tormented you longer! Just killing off someone so frivolously is unacceptable!》

“That’s not the issue. Gaworth.”

The color at the mask’s mouth changed back to green.

《You’re no different.》

《What the hell!?》

Ignoring the bickering fiend that changed colors, Alingd flicked her fingers.

A violent torrent of water that emerged from thin air swept away the girl’s corpse without leaving a trace.

“Well then, with my master’s orders to hunt witches accomplished, I should be on my way.”

《Since you’re here, how about we wipe those brats too?》

《If ordered, I will fight.》

“Not at the moment. They’re comrades who took down the 4th Grade Witch with me; I can’t stab them in the back. Well, they likely won’t know of my existence for a while.”

‘Besides, having fought those monkeys, I’m honestly pretty worn out,’ Alingd said with an expressionless face that didn’t appear tired at all.

The fiend, finding Alingd’s remark humorous, started to laugh heartily as it held onto Alingd’s body.

With a gust of wind and a bit of spray, they soared into the sky, disappearing from view.

Swish, swish.

The only sound that resonated was the tranquil murmur of the waves, a lamentation echoing for the deceased who had achieved nothing, as if it were a funeral dirge.

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