Cop Craft – Dragnet Mirage Reloaded

Book 1: Chapter 9: (5)

Shit

For whatever reason, he did not have any regrets. Even before, somewhere in his mind, he had a feeling that he would not be able to win against Zelada. The same went for that war ten years ago.

Just like that time, it had been the early gray of the morning.

The wetlands located in Southern Farbania. The Coalition Army outpost. Stationed there was a single company, consisting of approximately a hundred men. One fateful night, they were massacred.

Among the soldiers, users ofFairy Dustwere commonplace. They could not handle the horrors of the war without it. In one fell swoop, these addicts became deranged, shooting their fellow comrades seemingly out of nowhere. Overwhelmed in all this confusion, the friendly fire escalated, culminating in the destruction of the munitions depot. Communication torn to pieces, no one could grasp the scale of the situation. The remaining soldiers were completely annihilated by the Semani raids that followed.

The young Kei Matoba, alongside several other survivors, escaped from the burning base. All alone in the pitch-black darkness, one soldier got lost. Another took a poison arrow in his back and was on the verge of dying. Before he knew it, the comrades who entrusted their lives to him had all died. Alone, he crawled half-crazed through the mud. It was then that that man appeared before his eyes. The twilight revealed nothing but his silhouette to him. He had abnormally long arms. His lips curved up in that irritating grin of his. Now he knew. That man had been Zelada.

Matoba had not forgotten the despair he felt that day. He had no doubt of his impending doom. But the man did not kill him. Perhaps it had simply been on a whim, or perhaps he had let him live to carve the terror of the Semani into his very soul. He did not know. Still, the magician had left him alive.

In the end, was this not just a stay of execution?

One day, would he not just appear before him once more and carry out his death sentence?

That vague thought had always remained in his head. How many times had the same nightmare caused him to rush straight out of the bed? He did not know.

Now, that nightmare had become reality. Perhaps this was fate.

Tilarna was still fighting.

Desperately swerving about as she looked for any signs of her enemy. For some reason, Matoba could only blindly follow her movements.

The hour of death had come. The sound of her footsteps and breathing no longer reached him. The only thing he could hear was the sound oh his own heart beating. And, very faintly, the wind rippling across the helipad. And, finally, the sound of a cloak blowing in that wind.

Right. The sound of..

The cloak. Somewhere nearby, he could hear the rustling of clothes in the wind.

He moved his numb arms. The hand holding his gun trembled as he raised it.

Heavy. It hurts.

What was he trying to achieve by doing this? He would die anyway. This was foolish. As these thoughts circulated in his mind, he continued aiming his gun at a single point. This was just his pride talking. Before he stepped foot into the grave, this fool would keep his pride.

His pistol was pointed towards a seemingly empty space in one corner of the helipad. Practically a long-shot.

Guess this is it

The moment he was about to pull the trigger, almost spontaneously, his pistol began to drift slightly to the left.

That quiver was possibly the result of his muscles reverberating. Or perhaps the weight of the gun had been too much for his weakened hands, thereby causing his aim to curve without intention. But with that, it was as if the gun itself was telling him, Not there, just a bit to the left., whilst guiding him to his intended target.

He shot.

The bullet scored a direct hit against the blank space, spraying blood in the air.

Tilarna herself had no idea what just happened. Having taken the full might of Zeladas flames, the dying Matoba had somehow determined the enemys position, firing his gun in the process.

The red-clad magician finally revealed himself.

How

A pained voice leaked out of his throat. Clutching his chest with his hand, a large amount of blood flowed out in between his fingers.

How in the world

Kuh!

Tilarna started running. Zelada was making a sign with his fingers, in an attempt to temper the surrounding rahtena. She could hardly afford to allow him another spell. In an instant, she had caught up to him, sweeping her legs sideways as she drew her Krge from its sheath. Unable to leap away in time, the blade of her longsword tore clean through his abdomen.

His shriek echoed through the air. A massive amount of blood was pouring from his belly.

Ho, ohohoho!

A gentle leap. Zelada now stood in front of the towers lightning rod positioning himself at the very peak of the building. As blood gushed copiously from his many wounds, he roared laughter.

Well-played! For someone to wound me in this manner, how long has it been? A hundred, no, three hundred years? Hahah! How fun! How fun, indeed!

Such impudence! Prepare yourself, you monster!

Seeing as though she was about to follow-up on her initial attacks, Zelada gave a smile of satisfaction.

You mistake me, my lady! To perish in battle against a Valsh1 like this, it would be a great disgrace to a Mazany-styled magician such as myself! With that said

Zelada let go of the lightning rod.

!

The realm of the dead awaits! Ha, hahahahah!!!

Zelada fell headlong from the building. His grating laughter was getting farther and farther away. Jutting her body across the helipad railings, she peered down below. Much like a speck of dust, the shrinking figure of the magician crashed into the glass roof of a building near to the ground.

The impact of the untimely fall had shattered the glass into countless pieces, blowing up smoke in the air.

All became silent afterward. There was no guarantee from her position, yet she was sure that he had not been able to escape an instantaneous death.

More importantly

Turning her body, she rushed over to Matoba. He had collapsed in the middle of the helipad, gun still in hand. Right beside him was the Spirit Bomb, in the process of counting down.

Kei!?

Matoba was dying. Exposed to Zeladas flames, his blood vessels had been restricted, weakening his pulse and breathing. Perhaps due to his training, he had been able to hold out for this long. And yet, it was only a matter of time before he would die like those security officers below.

She could not treat him. Despite having learned a fair number of remedies herself, Tilarna had neither the medicine nor the equipment the essentials. She could no longer save him.

Zelada is defeated. Rest assured

Unable to find the words, Tilarna said.

Looking up at her, Matoba moved his lips. No sound came out. Still, his lips managed to mouth out the word Bomb. He pointed towards the bomb with a quivering finger.

Are you telling me to stop the bomb?

He shook his head. Squeezing out the last ounces of his strength, he mouthed the word Run. The display indicated less than fifty seconds remaining. It would be impossible to disarm the bomb with her limited knowledge.

I will not make it in time.

Overcoming her hesitation, she raised her shoulders and let out a sigh.

No. I shall not be able to make it in time. Furthermore

She looked at the fairy inside the bomb.

I had originally meant to throw away my life. I shall spend my last moments with this little one.

Do be grateful. I have allowed a crude, barbaric man like you a glimpse into my innermost desires.

Fuzzy as his hearing may be, he could not help but twist his face into a grimace. If his throat was still working, he would have muttered his usualGive me a break.by now.

Stretching her hand towards the bomb, Tilarna stroke the cylinder softly with her fingers. She hummed a gentle tune to the fairy entrapped in the glass.

Feay Reaya Shii

Lovely Reaya. As promised, I have come to save you.

Long ago, when I lost my way in the woods, you saved me, guiding me to safety. You showed me your delightful dancing. And when I became famished, you would gather fruits for me. As I headed home that day, we made a promise, did we not? If one of us were ever in trouble, or felt alone, we would come help one another.

Dearest Reaya.

I was helpless when you brought me home from the forest. And yet, here I am now. I shall not leave you all alone. That is why, Reaya. Do not be afraid, for I will stay by your side. Wherever we go, we will always remain the best of friends.

The countdown ticked down to five seconds.

Reaya smiled within the cylinder.

Zero.

The bomb had been activated.

So this is what its like to kick the bucket. Kinda underwhelming, to be honest. Matoba thought to himself.

He no longer felt any pain or suffering.

The darkness had gone, replaced by beautiful, clear skies as far as the eye could see.

His left shoulder the one Roth had shot throbbed slightly.

It seems he was still very much alive. Attempting to heave his body up, he finally understood.

He was still atop the helipad. The night had passed, bringing with it the light of the morning. By his side, Tilarna was kneeling, looking down on his face with her quiet eyes.

What the hell happened?

Voicing out his thoughts, Matoba was clearly agitated. Due to his gasps for air, his throat was all dry.

I made use of a certain healing technique.

Tilarna replied.

To heal the burns ravaging your body, it was necessary to consume a precious type of medicine, one containing a high concentration of rahtena. Unfortunately, I did not possess such a thing. Originally, you would have succumbed to your wounds.

Then, where in the world did you get your hands on that precious medicine?

Sensed his question, she took a glance at the Spirit Bomb behind her.

I used her remains.

The cylinder had broken in half. There was no sign of the fairy. All that remained within the burnt glass was a golden powder, slowly sprinkling onto the ground. From what he could see, the detonator had been on the verge of activating. Yet now, the electronics had been fried.

The fairy died?

That is correct.

Tilarna stood up, facing him. Her shoulders, her voice were trembling bit by bit.

That bomb had been constructed with the express purpose of causing human harm through the use of a living spirit. She seemed to have understood that fact.

She sacrificed her own life, all to save me.

A strong wind swept across the helipad.

The spirits remains the golden dust danced in the breeze, disappearing in the dazzling glow of the morning.

Translators Notes:

TL Note: Farbanian for Apprentice/Junior Knight

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