I Refuse to Be Your Enemy! Volume 5 Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Color Illustrations

  Chapter 1: An Unexpected Reunion at Liadna

  Interlude: Out of His Reach

  Chapter 2: The Captive Spellcaster

  Interlude: Watching Him Leave

  Chapter 3: A Place to Call Home

  Interlude: What I Can Do for Her

  Chapter 4: A Thorny Future

  Chapter 5: The Blood Flowing Through Eirlain

  Interlude: Washed Ashore

  Chapter 6: The Light That Shines on the Battlefield

  Interlude: Never Let You Go

  Chapter 7: The Post-Battle Agenda

  Side Story: The Yearning After the Kiss

  Afterword

  Bonus Short Story

  About J-Novel Club

  Copyright

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  Chapter 1: An Unexpected Reunion at Liadna

  Lord Credias’ plump cheeks jiggled as he moved his lips.

  Found you. Although there was still quite a bit of distance between us, somehow I just knew that was what he’d said.

  A chill ran down my spine. Two years had passed since I’d escaped my marriage to the viscount. It hadn’t been long before he’d stopped sending people to Évrard to fetch me, so I had always assumed he’d given up on me. Yet here he was now, staring at me with such craving in his eyes.

  Despite inhabiting a clay body, Master Horace made a sound much like a click of the tongue. “I figured out the trick here, little disciple. Those magical presences were spread all over the place as part of a trap laid for you.”

  “A trap?”

  “You know how that Ada girl was a spellcaster, but you couldn’t tell because of the contract stone she always had on her? It’s the same idea. That viscount scattered contract stones everywhere to throw you off his trail.”

  While Master Horace was explaining his theory to me, something was afoot around Lord Credias. Several moans emerged from the cacophony of clashing swords. Ten soldiers standing at the front lines had begun to scratch at their own throats in anguish; one had burst into flames, while another was growing stone pillars from his shoulders. Every single one of them had been turned into a defective spellcaster.

  “Watch... out,” I tried to shout at Cain, but I could barely get my voice out.

  This wasn’t looking good. When I got down from my horse, there was so little strength in my legs that I all but collapsed to the ground.

  Slamming my knees against the earth really smarted. Lord Credias’ powers were taking their toll on me, causing my mana to churn painfully throughout my body—enough to make me slump over on the spot.

  I wouldn’t let that keep me down, though. Lord Enister’s men were few in number, so he already had his hands full keeping the Llewynian troops in check, and Cain had no hope of taking on that many defective spellcasters all by himself. If ten defectives attacked all at once, other soldiers were bound to get caught up in the crossfire, and soon we’d have no one left on the front lines.

  My only option was to take them out here and now. Still, casting magic felt like an uphill battle. Not only was I feeling too woozy to concentrate, but my chills were severe enough to leave me on the verge of tears. Get your head in the game, Kiara! I scolded myself. Why become a spellcaster if you’re just going to be useless?!

  “I can manage something with a bit of recycling!” To psyche myself up, I slammed both hands against the ground. Accompanied by a harsh grating sound, the patch of land-turned-sand expanded outward. The sand engulfed the feet of the nearby defective spellcasters—as well as some of the surrounding Llewynian soldiers—before solidifying.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t have much effect on Lord Credias. His horse staggered after its hooves were caught in the sand, but that was the extent of it.

  However, the knights under Lord Enister’s banner charged forward, taking advantage of the opportunity to strike.

  “That was so reckless!” Cain yelled as soon as he’d made his way back to me. He wasted no time picking me up, setting me down on his horse, and taking off; thus, I didn’t get to see how many defective spellcasters Lord Enister managed to vanquish.

  “Sir Cain...” Just taking my next breath took a monumental amount of effort.

  Cain kept me tucked under his arm like a ball. “Quiet. Getting you away from him takes priority over anything else right now.”

  He was trying to get me as far from Lord Credias as possible. Unless we put some distance between myself and the viscount, there wouldn’t be a thing I could to help. For now, I just had to pray for Lord Enister to hold out.

  Not long after he’d broken out into a gallop, Cain glanced behind us. “Get down, Miss Kiara!” he cried hastily.

  Before I could do as he’d instructed, he threw himself over me from behind, pushing me down against the horse. Moments later, a tree went flying right past us.

  “What?!”

  “The defective spellcasters are giving chase. I’m going to throw them off! Careful not to bite your tongue!”

  “Uh, okay!” It was all I could do just to get out that reply. If I had tried to say anything more, there was a good chance I really would have taken off my own tongue.

  Our horse dashed at breakneck speed through the gentle slopes of the woods. I was worried it was going to run us into a tree, but Cain spurred it onward, confident that it would steer clear of all obstacles.

  Before long, the lethargy I’d felt had passed. We’d made it out of the viscount’s sphere of influence, presumably.

  “I can use magic again, Sir Cain. Let me dow—”

  I didn’t get to finish that sentence. A bolt of lightning tore through the nearby ground, drawing a cry from our horse as it bucked and threw us off. The only reason I managed to get out of it unscathed was because Cain had been cradling me in his arms.

  “Are you alright, Sir Cain?!”

  “I’m fine. I managed to stick the landing. However...”

  Cain trailed off before breaking into a sprint, supporting my weight as he did. My legs still felt like jelly, but I did my best to keep up.

  Someone flung a fireball at us from behind. Daunted by the explosion though I was, I managed to duck behind a particularly large tree for cover. When I glanced out from behind it, I saw three soldiers clad in the black capes of the Llewynian army, moaning and lumbering toward us. It was an ambush of defective spellcasters.

  They looked like a bunch of zombies.

  “Hey, little disciple,” Master Horace whispered while I stood there in a daze. “Something about these guys just isn’t right. I haven’t seen a single one of ’em fall apart yet.”

  He was right. No matter how long we waited them out, their limbs never dissolved into sand, and they weren’t just blindly and mindlessly shooting off magic. And whenever they did start spewing fire, too overcome with agony to hold it in, they were clearly taking aim at us.

  “I’ve never seen defectives act like this.”

  “Then... do you think they’re just regular spellcasters being controlled?”

  “I doubt it. Just look at the way they’re moving; real spellcasters would have too much presence of mind for that.”

  It was an unexpected and inexplicable situation we’d found ourselves in, but our only option was to fight back. Now that I’d gotten away from Lord Credias and could wield my magic at will, I jumped into action.

  “Sorry!” I apologized as I cast my spell.

  The earth beneath the defective spellcasters’ feet stretched out like a giant needle, piercing two of them clean through. Blood splattered and turned to sand before it could even hit the groun
d. The rest of their bodies soon followed suit, crumbling away into dust.

  Meanwhile, Cain sprang toward another defective, weaving his way through the man’s onslaught of fireballs until he’d gotten close enough to take his head off.

  “That was the last one, Miss—”

  Cain went pale. It was pure instinct that I raised a wall of earth before I even had time to turn around; however, that wall was swiftly blown away. As I toppled over along with it, I once again felt every last bit of strength drain from my body, making it a struggle to get back up.

  As soon as Cain had helped me up to my feet, he gulped.

  “If it isn’t the very woman who fled from me! My, you’ve grown to look even more like Annamarie since the last time I saw you.” The moment that voice reached my ears, a shiver crawled down my spine.

  There sat Lord Credias, no less than thirty mers away. Lined up in front of his horse were several defective spellcasters, their gazes all fixed on me as they shambled forward.

  I shuddered to my very core. What accompanied the fatigue that washed over me was an overwhelming sense of hopelessness.

  While I stood there paralyzed, Cain threw me over his shoulder and took off running.

  “There’s nowhere to run. You and I have a magical connection; I’m something of a father of yours, after all. No matter where you go, I can tell where you are instantly. And the more you run, the more I’m going to make you suffer.” His threat was accompanied by a repugnant guffaw.

  The defective spellcasters bolted after us. Lord Credias didn’t so much as budge. Perhaps he knew the exact range of his power over me, and thus was in no hurry; he was confident I would still be well within those bounds by the time his minions caught me.

  “Sir Cain... Put me down...”

  I knew I had to take out as many defective spellcasters as I possibly could. Yet there was nothing I could do while I was getting jostled around atop Cain’s shoulder, and I was still too weak to move a muscle.

  “We’re too close for you to start helping.”

  “But...!”

  The defective spellcasters chasing after us weren’t all that fast, but unfortunately, magic was a projectile weapon in practice. With all the fireballs they were hurling at us, it was a miracle that none of them had hit us yet.

  No sooner had I thought that than we were assailed by a gale strong enough to shake the trees around us. The winds were too strong to move against; Cain’s feet were swept out from under him, and he fell to the ground, cushioning me in his arms.

  I peeled myself away from Cain as he groaned in pain, tossing out a piece of copper ore I’d been keeping in my pocket before touching the ground. Despite putting my all into the spell, the best I could manage was two golems, each about the size of a person.

  My throat hurt, and my breath was coming as raggedly as if I’d been running nonstop. My whole body felt like it was on fire. Still, I pushed my golems to run forward, throwing themselves at the incoming defective spellcasters. Hindered by their impaired judgment, perhaps, the two men tumbled to the ground.

  That was the limit of what I could do, however. My golems crumbled immediately thereafter, returning to the soil.

  These petty tricks weren’t going to cut it. Telling myself as much, I reached for my knife so I could draw my own blood, but I was stopped when Cain once again scooped me up into his arms.

  We went back on the move. Another defective spellcaster, who had closed in on us while we were sprawled on the ground, started shooting fire. A nearby tree came toppling down, burnt to a crisp. Right as Cain swerved to avoid it, he was struck with a blade of wind.

  I shrieked as I watched him take the blow, the cape on his back ripped to shreds. A huge gash had been cut down his armor.

  He once again toppled to the ground from the impact. Although he managed to shelter me in his arms, he gave a pained moan when a fireball exploded nearby.

  When I pulled myself upright, I saw that Cain’s ever-stoic face was twisted in agony.

  “No! Sir Cain!”

  What do I do?! I was about to try my hand at one more spell, but Cain grabbed me by the wrist before I could.

  “Calm down.” After he’d opened his eyes to stare up at me, Cain pulled himself up off the ground, gritting his teeth through the pain. “Do you see that cliff up ahead, Miss Kiara? Is there a way to get us down from there?” he asked, getting to his feet and holding his sword at the ready.

  I took a quick look around us. There did indeed appear to be a cliff about a dozen mers ahead—and a pretty tall one, at that. To be more specific, it looked to be about as high as a four-story building. Considering the shape we were in, making a staircase for us to run down wouldn’t be much of a solution. We needed a faster and easier way to get to the bottom.

  “There is!”

  “I’ll leave that to you, then!” he instructed, then charged toward the defective spellcasters.

  I nearly called him back, but I figured he had to have some kind of plan. After all, he hadn’t suggested I leave him behind earlier.

  Assured that he would be coming with me, I cut my palm with a knife, took a piece of copper ore out of my pocket with a trembling hand, and smeared it in blood.

  For a passing moment, I came close to losing consciousness. I had to do this, though; it was the only way I could save Cain. After staggering all the way over to the edge of the cliff, I dropped the copper ore on the spot.

  “I have to do it all... in one go...”

  The less time this took, the better. With that in mind, I cast one giant spell.

  A moment after part of the cliff crumbled away, giving way to exactly the structure I’d had in mind, I crouched down on the spot, strapped for breath. Of course, this was no time to be lying around.

  “Sir Cain!” Confident that he would follow after me, I called out to him right before throwing myself down the slide I’d just built.

  The slide, which I’d dug into the side of the cliff, propelled me toward the ground below at insane speeds. Cain slid down after me, catching me along the way. If he hadn’t, there was no telling how far I would’ve tumbled after hitting the bottom, given my momentum.

  Cain was wounded all over. The sleeve of his left arm was singed, and half of his breastplate had been sliced away. His legs were a bloody mess, covered in jagged cuts. Still, he fought on.

  The defective spellcasters clearly didn’t have any mental capacity to speak of; two of them came chasing after us, only to fall off the cliff to their deaths. One of them, however, copied what we’d done and took the slide, while another lowered himself down with his wind magic.

  I buried the first defective spellcaster under the earth, using up an entire section of the slide to do it. Cain took down the other one, tearing up his left arm even more in the process.

  This was the first time I’d ever seen Cain out of breath. Nonetheless, he pushed onward, holding me in his arms—all to bring us just a little bit closer to Alan and his troops.

  ◇◇◇

  According to what I heard later on, Lord Enister had sent a handful of soldiers after us by this point. Lord Credias and his defective spellcasters had run off in hot pursuit of us, so he could see that we were in clear danger. He’d dispatched about thirty of his soldiers to back us up.

  Although they’d managed to take down three defective spellcasters, ten of them had lost their lives in the process, and nearly all of them had been injured. Based on those numbers, if Cain and I had just stayed put, the defectives’ numbers would have multiplied into the dozens... or maybe even more, and the count’s forces likely would have suffered enough casualties to send them running.

  The fact that Cain had taken down multiple defective spellcasters on his own was a testament to the strength of Évrard’s and Reggie’s knights.

  At the time, I still didn’t realize that Cain had made the best possible choice there. All I knew was that he was focused on giving Lord Credias the slip, and that was why he had chosen to go down the cliff
.

  Sure enough, Lord Credias had no way to come down after us on horseback; he vanished from sight, having left to look for an alternative route. The rest of the defective spellcasters took the same detour as the viscount.

  Once we’d made it to the foot of the cliff, we walked a short ways before stopping for a breather. I had to make Cain rest; between his injuries and how exhausted he was, he’d clearly hit his limit. I shoved him down into a hollow in the cliff, then hid us from sight with an earthen wall.

  We couldn’t stay put for too long, or Lord Credias would find us. Regardless, we needed the chance to recuperate and treat Cain’s wounds. We were bound to get into at least one more altercation before we made it back to where Alan was. Seeing as I was functionally useless right now, it was of the utmost importance to raise Cain’s chances of survival as much as we possibly could. Since we had yet to leave Lord Credias’ sphere of influence, I was still feeling sluggish and shiver-prone, but I could still manage whatever first-aid didn’t call for my magic.

  I rubbed a salve on Cain’s arm and back, where his clothes had torn, and laid his skin bare. The wound on his back wasn’t quite as deep as I’d feared, but his left arm was in bad shape. Surely it was nothing that the miracle salves of this world couldn’t heal, but the process was going to take a while.

  All I wanted was to buy him a little extra time to rest. The fact that I couldn’t was nearly frustrating enough to bring me to tears.

  “Do you think, perhaps... that the viscount can’t cast any magic of his own?” Cain mused aloud as I was tending to his wounds.

  “The fact that he still hasn’t attacked us directly is a good sign that he can’t,” Master Horace answered. Evidently, he had been giving Lord Credias’ powers some thought, too.

  I noted that Master Horace didn’t appear to be as badly affected as he had been last time, however.

  “Judging by those defective spellcasters’ peculiar behavior, plus the way they never self-destruct, it could be that his specialty lies in manipulating mana—both his and other people’s.”

  “You think?” I asked.

  Master Horace jerked his head in a nod. “If he can control the flow of their mana, it explains why his defective spellcasters never fall apart no matter how much time passes. The way he gets them to do his bidding is probably the same as how I controlled those monsters way back when. He shared a sliver of the same contract stone with those men, then swallowed down the remainder himself. Heheheh!”