Even When the Sun Sets -slight light, slight hope- 1. Even Further Beneath the Starry Sky A long time ago, life thrived on the surface. The trees grew thick, animals ran about, and many people, including the emnetwiht, carried on with their lives. What so easily destroyed that era of prosperity was what the world afterward called the “Seventeen Beasts.” They appeared seemingly from nowhere, completely obliterating anything and everything on land that could be considered “life.” Everyone and everything that once inhabited the surface disappeared. The emnetwiht, the dragons, the morians, the elves—they were all wiped out. The scant few who managed to escape into the sky narrowly avoided death. Over five hundred years had passed since then. The last pocket garden of Regule Aire, where the survivors remained, had still not sunk. They were managing to just barely hold out against repeated attacks by the Beasts. They borrowed the power of the wishing crystals left behind by the emnetwiht—the Carillon. And they sent out girls who possessed incredibly fleeting lives to die, one after another. The low, constant reverberation of the enchanted furnace vibrated deep in her stomach. Nopht got off the windowsill, thinking how bad it must be for her health. The world beyond the window was blotted out in total darkness. It now acted like a mirror, and all she could see reflected there was a single child scowling at her, lips in a pout. She had no fun glaring back. “Ugh! Man, I’m sooo bored! Bored, bored, bored!” She flopped backward onto the simple cot and kicked her legs about. She knew throwing a tantrum would get her nowhere, but her body still moved of its own accord. This airship—the surface observation ship Saxifraga—now hovered roughly fifty marmer above the ground. The Seventeen Beasts, the menaces of the surface, could not fly freely. It was estimated they would not be attacked if they kept this altitude. However, being safe and sound often led to boredom. “Wasn’t the surface supposed to be full of romance and adventure?! What about the falcon princess trapped on an emnetwiht altar, surrounded by a hundred Beasts, waiting for a prince to save her?! What about the mountain of treasure slumbering just beneath the gray sand and the ghosts of bandit kings waiting to possess you?! Why’s there nothing but sand and rocks here?! Where’s the treasure?! Where’re the ghosts?! Where are the Beasts?!” “Nopht, please shut up.” A quiet voice reprimanded her. Nopht turned her head to look, and there sitting on the cot beside her was Rhantolk, reading some kind of book. “What’s that?” “An artifact that emerged from the sand yesterday. I thought it might relieve my boredom, so I borrowed it from the cargo hold.” Rhantolk always sounded miserable, and she often spoke in a manner that put distance between her and others. That was why the youngest girls at the warehouse were typically afraid of her or didn’t like her… But Nopht thought the girl wasn’t so bad once she got to know her. She didn’t think Rhantolk was a good person, but then again, the feeling was mutual. “An ancient manuscript, huh. Can you read it?” Nopht wrapped her arms around Rhantolk from behind and peered over her shoulder. It was definitely a book. Though its coloring was a bit off, its binding was sturdy, and it didn’t look brittle at all. Maybe it was better preserved than they thought. She also directed her gaze to what was on the page, but—well, sure enough, it just looked like row after row of unfamiliar symbols. “Mm… There are some words I understand.” Rhantolk plucked out a simple biscuit with her slim fingers. “It’s not enough to accurately understand the content. But by stringing together words and imagining what they mean, it’s the perfect sort of puzzle to alleviate my boredom.” A slight frown appeared on Rhantolk’s face when she felt Nopht’s weight hanging on her back. “Huh. So what’s it mean?” “I’m just telling you what I think it means, okay?” “Sure, tell me what you think it means. Coming into contact with ancient records and setting my imagination aloft is exciting enough.” Rhantolk sighed, a slight expression of annoyance on her face. Nopht knew it well. Rhantolk made this face as she complained yet patiently went along with Nopht’s selfish requests. “—The emnetwiht race should never have been started. This was the first and greatest sin of the Visitors, who created them.” “What’s that mean?” “I told you—that’s what I imagine this book is talking about. After staring at the introduction for so long, that seems to be what the first line is talking about.” “Huh. If that came from emnetwiht ruins, I guess that means they knew they were bad news, too.” “No, it seems like this was treated as a dangerous idea to the emnetwiht at the time. Perhaps like the heavenward ideology in Regule Aire now.” “Oh.” The heavenward ideology. Nopht had heard of that before. Basically, the ideology stated that the Regule Aire they lived on now was nothing but a point of passage and that they would have to drift farther away from the corrupted surface and go to the distant stars. Just saying it brought very little actual harm, but there were more than a few among those who believed it who dirtied their hands trying to steal airships or build airships illicitly, so most islands treated it with caution. “Then”—Rhantolk’s slim finger followed the line on the page—“the beasts…sealed…the people… Oh, I think it’s the other way around. The people freed the beasts, and a world filled… No, the world filled with a gray truth…?” “Ohhh.” Nopht leaned even farther over her shoulder. Consequently, even more of her weight pressed down on Rhantolk’s back. “Nopht, you’re heavy.” “So that’s when the land was wrecked by the Beasts. Wow, it’s like a prophecy.” “You think so? It seems like this was just one of a great many produced, and I think it might have been something like a children’s story or a textbook or a doctrine.” “I see.” As she found herself satisfied, Nopht reached forward and “borrowed” one of the biscuits Rhantolk held in her hand. It was dry and crumbly and not very good, but it was perfect for tricking her empty stomach into thinking it was delicious. “There’s still more to this sentence. Um… The sixteen shards…sing the song of…the reimagining of the true world…and salvation for the end…sea and mother…fear…spoiled…a perfected heart…um, the void…dawn…?” Nopht tilted her head in confusion. That wasn’t a sentence. That was a string of completely unrelated words. “Where’s your imagination?” “No, it truly is just a line of words here. There’s no room for interpretation in the first place, much less imagination—” There was a knock at the door. Nopht furrowed her brow and let go of Rhantolk. The two of them held special status. Everyone on the airship knew that. No one tried to get close to them or interact with them. Consequently, there shouldn’t have been anyone aboard who would visit this room. The only exception would be if this airship had encountered unimaginable danger that only the two of them could deal with. But the ship was much too silent for that. They strained their ears, and the only thing they could hear was the humming of the furnace. They could not hear a single scream or howl or siren or artillery bombardment. “You can come in; it’s unlocked.” Cautious, they called out to whoever was on the other side of the door. The knob turned. “—Is this the convoy guard waiting room?” A boggard man slowly peeked into the room. He wore sturdy clothes, made solely with practicality in mind. He didn’t look like he belonged to the military at all. He didn’t even seem like a merchant. “I need to speak to the guard who made preparations for the Beasts’ attacks… Hmm? Are you ladies the only ones in here?” “I don’t know who you are, but please leave,” Rhantolk replied coolly. “According to fleet regulations, contact between us and the members of the research team is forbidden. The very act of approaching this room should not even be allowed. What is our guard doing?” “Oh, him? He racked up a lot of debts to me in cards a while ago. I only had to ask, and he looked the other way for me.” The boggard gave a friendly grin and, without a moment’s hesitation, stepped into the room. “Whoops, forgot to introduce myself. I’m Glick. I’m usually a civilian salvager, but today, I’ve been hired by Orlandry to act as something like an adviser for the research team. Well, I’m not usually in a position like this, but I guess stuff happens… And? What might your names be?” “You think we’ll tell you? We never asked anyway.” Nopht rested her cheek on her knees and waved him away. “You shouldn’t defy the Alliance’s intentions, especially if you’ve been hired by them.” Rhantolk in turn also waved him off. “Meh, they’re different. Wouldn’t you want to say hello to someone who’s gonna be watching your back from now on?” “…You’re an odd one, old man.” Nopht narrowed her eyes. “The only ones here are us two. As you can see, we’re featureless, we’re girls, and we’re children. Do you think we look like amazing warriors meant to protect the fleet from the terrifying Beasts?” “To be honest, I kinda both do and don’t believe it, but at the same time, I don’t want to. But you know”—the boggard pointed to the large sword wrapped in cloth, leaning against the wall—“young ladies with dug weapons sounds too much like a story I’ve already heard. Leprechauns, was it?” “Why do you know that?” “I had the opportunity to hear about them just the other day… And I’m not that old, by the way.” “You’re older than us, at least.” Glick’s expression indicated he only somewhat agreed with them. “Oh, right, I brought you guys a present. You probably haven’t had anything decent to eat, since you’ve been on the surface for so long. Here, it’s a meat pie I got at a stall at the port right before leaving Island No. 31.” He produced a package and placed it on the table. Nopht’s shoulders shivered, her gaze bore a hole into the package, her mouth watered, and her stomach growled painfully. The boggard was right. It had been more than a month since they left Regule Aire to provide security for the research team, and the only things they’d been eating were dried meats and biscuits—food that was light and easily preserved, offering little in the way of actual taste. She missed real food so, so much. “It’s just common sense for us salvagers to be particular about food if we’re gonna be on the surface for a long time. The guy who planned this research stuff is clueless about all this. “…Oh yeah, I asked them to put more spices in so it’ll keep for longer, but you should eat it as soon as possible. Today, if you can.” Nopht gulped. But she couldn’t give in to her appetite right now. She concentrated all her willpower to tear her gaze away from the package. Then, with watering eyes, she glared hard at the boggard. “You’re kidding. There’s no way you could win us over with such—” “Thank you for such a kind gift.” “—obvious bribery… Oh, come oooooon, Rhaaaaan!” The tears spilled from her eyes as she turned to look at her best friend sitting beside her. “Why are you doing this?! We’re not supposed to take it!” “But it smells delicious. We’ve been eating biscuits for such a long time—I can’t resist the temptation.” “I totally understand how you feel, and my whole body and soul agree with you, but you caaaaan’t!” “It’s the boggards who have such a different sense of taste than we do, so if we refuse and give it back, the meat pie will just end up going bad. But more importantly…” Rhantolk’s gaze sharpened, and she smiled. “We have some free time right now. I don’t suppose it would be a terrible idea to have a little chat?” …Oh boy, here we go. Nopht knew that nothing else she could say would matter. Once Rhantolk started playing the role of devil’s advocate, there was no one in the world who could change her mind. About six months ago, even when she and that stubborn Chtholly mercilessly argued, it was Chtholly who ended up running out of patience in the end. Chtholly. …A name echoed in her memories, one she never wanted to recall again. Something inside Nopht panged her. The two were the same age, but she was nonetheless Nopht’s irritating senior, a friend she argued with often, and family she would never see again, all at once. The anticipated day had already passed as they wasted time on the surface like this. An exceptionally large Six, Timere, would have launched its attack in the sky by then; Chtholly would have intercepted it and beat back their enemy in exchange for her life. Just as planned, she would have thrown away her life in the anticipated battle. That was a leprechaun’s duty. There was no need to be afraid, no necessity of feeling sad. But when Nopht thought about how that cheeky and captious cerulean-haired girl would no longer be there once they finished this tedious work and returned to the sky, she felt a little empty. “Nopht? What is it?” “…It’s nothing. If you say it’s okay, Rhan, then I guess it’s fine. Do what you want.” She threw herself backward onto the cot. And as she did so, she nonchalantly turned her face away from the other two. She didn’t want them to see her expression. “I’m going to eat the whole meat pie.” “Just take half.” “Oh, very well, I suppose I will… Now, Glick, was it? You’ve been summoned here as an adviser—does that mean you’ve been salvaging for a long time?” “Yeah, guess so. I’m confident I’ve been doing it longer than the guys who’ve only been around a short while.” “Then have you met a Beast before?” Nopht shivered. “Let’s see…” Glick pressed his finger to his temple in a thinking pose. “I’ve been attacked by Two and Three and Six. If we count the ones I’ve seen from far away, I guess we can include Five and Eleven, too.” “That many?!” Nopht pushed herself up. Her tears had evaporated. “We’ve never fought anything else but Timere!” “We’re not fighting them head-on like you ladies are. Every time, we come home in shambles, barely holding on to our lives.” “—Yet it might be apt to think you are much more knowledgeable about the Beasts than we are.” “I wouldn’t say I know enough to call myself knowledgeable. Oh, I get it. You want to ask me something about the Beasts, don’t you, Blue Girl?” “Yes…” The paper crinkled as Rhantolk unwrapped the meat pie, her voice hushed. “I always thought it was strange. It’s been five hundred years since we were chased from the surface. We have lived thus far at the whims of the Seventeen Beasts. The miracle that we’ve managed to escape the looming jaws of the Beasts could even be called the very history of Regule Aire itself. Yet…we know much too little about what these ‘Beasts’ actually are.” Heeere we go again, Nopht thought. Rhantolk was, at any rate, smarter than Nopht. By smart, that meant she was used to the act of thinking itself and was skilled at finding topics to ponder. Or perhaps that meant she had to find an answer she was satisfied with for everything. There should be no better solution to things that could not be solved by thinking about them than to not think about them. “What are the Beasts anyway? Perhaps you don’t mind if I ask your thoughts?” She thought about things she didn’t need to think about; she wanted to know things she didn’t need to know. Rhantolk’s gaze pierced straight into Glick’s amber-colored eyes. 2. The End of a Dream, the Beginning of a Dream The warehouse lay deep in the forest on Regule Aire’s Island No. 68. On paper, it was a facility owned by the Winged Guard, a place where the Guard stored the valuable weapons in their possession. While that wasn’t entirely false, it could scarcely be considered an accurate representation of the truth. In that warehouse was a magnificent barracks, one that could easily house fifty people. Stored there—no, living there—were more than thirty very young girls. Incidentally, the Orlandry Merchants Alliance was paying for most of the maintenance management costs, and the actual caretakers of the facility were Orlandry employees; it was even designated on the map as “Orlandry Alliance Warehouse No. 4.” Morning came once again to the warehouse. The intense light of daybreak asserted itself by illuminating the room through the curtains. The birds sang, their chirping loud and relentless. Chtholly propped herself up in her bed and stared absently at the ceiling. It felt like her memory had fogged over, and she had trouble recalling everything that happened up until the night before. “Ngh…” She rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands lightly. Her spine shivered, unprompted. Winter mornings were cold. She would get sick if she stayed in her pajamas for too long. She wondered if she should get up. Her mind still fuzzy, she tried to remember what her plans were for the day. But she couldn’t. She felt like she remembered that there weren’t any missions planned any time soon. Then that would mean after her daily training course, the rest of the day was free. That was nice. She wanted to use all the time she had, all the freedom she was allowed to follow after him. —Him. The image of a young man with black hair appeared in her mind’s eye. That was what spurred her vague memories of the night before to replay for her. “…Whoa—” Oh right—she had collapsed. The encroachment from her past life had beaten her down, and she fell into a deep sleep she might not have ever woken up from. But for some reason, she did wake up, bursting into tears as she clung to Willem in front of everyone else, her stomach growling. She’d devoured the oatmeal that Lakhesh had so considerately brought to her, then was immediately overcome by extreme fatigue, and she slept hard. “Uuuuugh…” What was all that about? Maybe that’s what she was—a creature that operated only on her appetite and desire for sleep. Something that simply acted on instinct. Clinging to Willem with everyone present must have been one of her instincts, too. Where was her logic? There was a limit on how shameful something could be. Her face felt as if it would burst into flames. But. She felt a desire for food and sleep because she was alive. It was proof that her body was trying to continue on. When she considered that, she started to feel somewhat optimistic. No—from now on, she would convince herself to feel that way. Her spirit would wither away if she didn’t. She lightly smacked her burning cheeks and took a closer look at her surroundings. This wasn’t her room. This was the infirmary. Someone must have carried her here after she suddenly lost consciousness in the hallway. Who that might have been was probably—no, definitely—Willem, but she wouldn’t think too hard about it. A smile burst across her face. Chtholly Nota Seniorious was the eldest of the faerie soldiers and a grown woman. She had to be a good role model for the little ones. Though she’d probably marred some of that image already, that was the very reason why she could not afford any more mistakes. She decided to get up. She should splash some cold water on her face before someone saw her. Just as that thought crossed her mind and she placed her feet on the floor— “Oh?” The door opened, and there stood a redheaded woman. “It looks like you’re actually up now. What a relief.” She was tall and a bit older than Chtholly—probably around twenty. Though she was clearly an adult, her expression was somewhat childlike, and she wore a frilly blouse and apron to match. “Willem was really worried, you know! He wondered if you were going to sleep for a long time again or if this time you weren’t going to wake up. He insisted he stay by your side until you woke up, so I had to chase him out.” The woman kicked up the heels of her slippers as she entered the infirmary. She opened the curtains, changed the water in the flower vase, and changed the day on the calendar. “Well, you were sleeping with such a nice smile on your face, and your pulse and breathing and other vital signs seemed okay, so I had you brought here to the infirmary for the time being. So how are you feeling?” “Huh? Uh, um…” For a moment, she couldn’t understand that she was being asked a question. She blinked. “Nyggla…tho…?” “Hmm?” “Oh, uh, nothing.” She waved both her hands, flustered. Right. This woman’s name was Nygglatho. She had been dispatched by the Orlandry Merchants Alliance and held the high position of equipment manager here at the warehouse, and she also took care of the “equipment”—the young faeries. “What’s wrong? Are you still drowsy?” “Yeah, I think so…” Her head wasn’t working as it should. It looked like the morning light and Willem’s name were still not enough to wake up her mind, devoured by inactivity. “I don’t feel sick, but I feel blank. I think I’m going to wash my fac—” “Miss Chtholly!” The door that sat ajar burst fully open with a loud bang. “You’re not a ghost, Miss Chthollyyyyyy!” A small green-haired girl dashed into the room like an arrow and clung to Chtholly. “Bwuh?!” “Come, now. Don’t push Chtholly; she’s just recovering from injury.” A small purple-haired girl peeked out from behind her. “…Tiat. Pannibal.” She said their names, as though confirming who they were. She stared down blankly at the back of the head of the girl who clung desperately to her stomach. “I’m sorry, Miss Chtholly.” Pannibal dropped her head. “Tiat was restless the entire time you were broken. I don’t think she slept at all last night, ever since she saw you.” “Really?” Now with an explanation, she asked Tiat for confirmation, but there was no answer. She poked the girl, but there was no response. Chtholly turned her over to check, and in that small time frame, she had fallen asleep. “I see.” It seemed it was true that Tiat hadn’t slept. The girl had worried so much about her, and that made her happy, or maybe it was heartwarming, or maybe she felt bad about it, or maybe it was precious, or maybe— “You felt restless when you thought about someone dying, didn’t you?” —it made her a bit sad. “You’ve grown up, Tiat.” They said that leprechauns were the result of babies’ lost souls, who died before they understood what death was. That was why, strictly speaking, they were not “living” beings. And that was why their instinct to fear death didn’t work. They didn’t have the feelings to mourn someone else’s death. But that was when she was young. As Chtholly grew into an older faerie, her feelings changed. Once her body matured and she began to walk the battlefield with sword in hand, she started to somewhat understand what death was. Her mind judged it to be an irreplaceable loss, something so sad and painful. In terms of other races, that was considered growth. It was a good thing. But for leprechauns, it was something terrible. They were beings born and raised to be spent on the battlefield. No one’s spirit could handle it if one chose to mourn every single faerie who vanished. That was why many faeries pretended not to notice those feelings as they welled up inside them; they turned their gaze away. They rejected it as something they didn’t need. They suppressed it as something they should overcome. If Tiat had chosen to go with none of the above and instead face these unfamiliar feelings head-on, then there would surely be a rough future ahead of her. “Don’t be afraid to show how happy you are that she’s matured.” Chtholly lifted her head in surprise. There was Nygglatho, smiling gently. “Did I just say what I was thinking out loud?” “No, but I understand how you feel. How long do you think I’ve been here, watching over you?” …Oh, right. How Chtholly felt about Tiat right now was the same as how her own seniors felt about her. And Nygglatho had always been right by their side, watching over them. “Well, why don’t we let Tiat sleep here in the infirmary for now? Chtholly, you…were going to wash your face, was it?” “Oh yeah.” “Then when you’re finished, come eat breakfast in the dining hall and show everyone that smile of yours. You can come back here when you’re finished.” Nygglatho pointed to the floor. “At first glance, you seem to be doing well, but we can’t let our guard down just yet. What we can do with the equipment here may be limited, but we can provide you with a simple checkup.” “Oh…” Right. That was important. Why hadn’t she thought of that herself? Her brain still wasn’t functioning. She had to wake up. “Yeah, you’re right.” Tiat was still sound asleep and clinging to her, but Chtholly peeled her off and laid her down on the bed. She lightly tapped herself on her cheeks to perk herself up. “…Huh?” It was Pannibal, sounding confused. “Did you have a change of heart?” “Huh?” She pointed to Chtholly—specifically, a section of her hair. Just in that portion of her cerulean hair, she found quite a few red strands. “What…is this?” She rubbed it, but the color stayed. She pulled on it, but it wasn’t fake hair. She brought it up to the light coming from the window, but all that told her was that it was indeed her real hair color, not at all artificial. “It must be an aftereffect of your previous coma. I don’t think we have much to worry about. Hair color changes due to the weather or maturity aren’t unusual in other races,” Nygglatho chimed in. “It’s a beautiful color. I think you should keep it as is; don’t dye it back.” That was probably it. Chtholly never really liked the color of her hair anyway, and she didn’t mind at all if it ended up changing. Since only one part of her hair turned red, she didn’t have to worry about the clothes she already had no longer matching. And— “I’m sure Willem will say he likes you as you are, even if you don’t force yourself to get all dolled up.” “Seriously, could you not read my mind, please?!” Chtholly’s protest sounded more like a whine. What am I? Chtholly thought. The answer sounded simple but was just a little bit complicated. Leprechauns: the dead who failed to die. The living without life. Weapons who threw that all away for the sake of those who had real lives. The name of her compatible dug weapon was Seniorious. She was fifteen years old. She was born in the forests of Island No. 94. …And almost one month had passed since the emergence of her unrequited feelings. 3. I’m Home Early in the morning, he went to the market to buy ingredients. A cloth bag contained his spoils in one bundle: flour, butter, eggs, milk, sugar—and a little bit of honey, various nuts, and dried fruits. Willem Kmetsch walked along a small forest path, the dappled sunlight filtering in through the trees. The stones making the path were sparse and unkempt, various weeds breaking their way through the gaps. It wasn’t exactly easy to traverse, but it at least kept them from getting lost as long as they followed it. “Um, um, the bag isn’t too heavy, is it?” Lakhesh walked beside him, peeking up at him in concern. “What do you take me for? I’m an adult. This thing’s light as a feather.” He readjusted the large bag he carried in his hands as he responded. “I might as well let you ride on my shoulders while I’m at it.” “O-oh, um, no thank you. I will pass.” She hurriedly waved both her outstretched hands. “I, um, I know the way now because of work.” These girls—these faeries—were nominally secret weapons owned by the Guard, so their freedoms were heavily restricted. They were not allowed to leave the island to do anything if it was not a part of some battle strategy (though flying to nearby islands with their own wings was often tacitly permitted). But on the other hand, they were guaranteed a rather free life here on Island No. 68. “How long’ve you been working at the bakery?” “Um, almost six months now. I made so many mistakes in the beginning, but now the manager has started to tell me I’ve been doing well.” “Huh.” A crabby middle-aged semifer man ran the bakery in the town center. It might have just been his natural expression, but he always looked grumpy and didn’t seem the type to compliment others. “He said he wants me to help make bread not only in the morning but also during lunchtime, and he said that he wished he could just adopt me.” “Huh.” “…U-um, Mr. Willem, is something wrong? You look scary.” It’s nothing. I’m fine. I’m calm. I don’t believe that blatant lip service at all. Yeah, I don’t. That said, maybe I should go say hello to the baker sometime soon. “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you got permission to take a part-time job. Soldiers aren’t typically allowed to moonlight, y’know.” Strictly speaking, the faeries weren’t soldiers but weapons. And no matter how he thought about it, any military allowing its weapons to take a side job wasn’t normal… But then again, Willem himself was in the odd position of taking on a military role as a kind of side job. He wasn’t in the position to really pursue the issue. “I heard the important military man… The manager who worked here before you was real sour about it. But Miss Nygglatho convinced him.” “Oh… I see.” Nominally, these girls were weapons owned by the Guard. But in reality, they were private assets in possession of the Orlandry Merchants Alliance. Managers dispatched by the Guard were nothing but decoration, and the actual supervision was done by a caretaker dispatched by Orlandry. In this instance, that caretaker was Nygglatho. If she wanted to do something, the manager from the Guard would not be able to dispute it, whether they liked it or not. “Oh… You’re part of the military, too, right, Mr. Willem? Do you think this should be allowed?” “Hmm?” “Um, us as weapons of the Guard, working and saving money like anyone else…” “Oh, that.” Sure, as someone clad in a Guard uniform, maybe he, too, should be making a sour face about it. “Why not? If a kid says they found something they wanna do, then at the very least, it’s the adult’s job not to get in the way if they don’t plan on supporting them. As long as you’re not selling secret information or putting our equipment on the black market, I won’t say no.” “Wow… Really?!” Lakhesh beamed. “Um, I love you so much, Mr. Willem! Us faeries don’t have parents, so we don’t really know what it’s like, but if I had a dad, I’d want him to be someone like you.” “I love you so much.” Huh. They were words of affection, ones he was honestly happy about, ones he could readily accept. “I’m already kind of like your parent.” “Really? Heh-heh-heh!” Lakhesh grinned bashfully. Willem, in turn, smiled. But— “…Oh, but then we need a mom… I love Miss Nygglatho, too, but I think Miss Chtholly would go better with you…” Once she started murmuring about some terrifying-sounding things, he pretended not to notice, as always. A baggy lab coat Chtholly had never seen before sat on Nygglatho’s shoulders, over the apron she usually wore. “I got this when I earned my basic medicine and cooking licenses at the academy.” She was a little surprised Nygglatho had something like that. Medicine and cooking. Both of them were the most valuable skills someone working as the caretaker at the faerie barracks could have. And since she was a talented woman who had a good grasp on both, Nygglatho alone was left managing their home. “I feel more motivated to do work wearing the lab coat, and we’re going to make this checkup the real deal, okay?” And then, just as she announced, she started a very authentic-seeming checkup. She began with percussing and palpating all over Chtholly’s body, then she brought a light to her eyes to see how they reacted. She had her take some medicine meant for the exam and asked how she felt, drew a little bit of blood, and made jokes such as, “Oh, I think I would understand much more if I just had a nibble on your flesh.” “Hmm…” She took data, wrote them down on her chart, and took data again. As she repeated these actions, Nygglatho’s expression became one that was hard to read, a mix of surprise and perplexity. “I’m not infected with some kind of terrible disease or something, am I?” Chtholly asked doubtfully. “Mm, no, that’s not it. It really isn’t, okay?” She replied with an even more puzzling response. The general checkup was over. Nygglatho cradled her head with both her hands and lay face-first on the desk. “…What does that mean? What happened?” Chtholly asked as she got herself dressed. “The powdered purifying silver came back negative.” Nygglatho sat up abruptly as she spoke. “—And? What does that mean?” Chtholly asked nervously. There was a myth that silver had the power to purify evil. Countless tales said that it could keep vampires away or cut short a troll’s infinite life force. But in reality, those were mostly nothing but tales. Real silver was only a soft and unstable metal. It reacted readily with toxins and noxious gas, deteriorating and turning black. But at the same time, that meant it was a valuable tool in discovering those sorts of dangerous irregularities. That might have been why heavy and cumbersome silver utensils were popular among the rich—as a caution against poisoned food. But it was hard to tell how this situation and that were related. “Purifying silver is made with a special kind of ash that changes color not for regular poison and all that but in response to distorted death… To put it simply, it’s a chemical meant for finding ghosts and ghouls and that sort.” “Ghosts…” The word escaped Chtholly’s lips absentmindedly. She thought for a moment. “Um… And what does that mean?” She gulped hard, then asked another question. “…Don’t tell me that’s exactly what you mean?” “It is, of course. I have no idea what happened to cause this, but this is all I can say when I put together both conclusion and result.” Nygglatho waved the test tube she held in her hand. The silver rattled around inside it. “As you know, leprechauns are a type of spirit. And so, by mixing your blood with the reagent, it should have turned black in an instant. But it was instead the impossible result of no reaction, so I can only come to one conclusion.” Her logic was clear and simple; there was absolutely no room to question it. “In short, right now, you are not a leprechaun.” “…Wait. I don’t follow. People are usually born as one race and stay that way until they die, right? You can’t just decide one day, ‘Hmm, I don’t think I want to be a troll anymore,’ then go down to city hall and start being something else the next day, right?” “I don’t know why you used trolls as your example, but generally, yes.” “Then, why?” “I don’t know why. I told you—it’s just what it is by looking at both conclusion and result. I can’t give you any further detail unless we take you to a specialist.” “But then I—” The dug weapons—also known as Carillon—were superweapons that only the already-extinct emnetwiht could use. Leprechauns, who were beings born to work in place of the emnetwiht using their tools, however, could wield these ancient superweapons as though they were emnetwiht themselves. That was the reason why the faeries had been placed in this warehouse as anti-Beast weapons. “I know. It might be best for you not to come into direct contact with dug weapons anymore. We don’t know what’ll happen… I’m not threatening you! You know that if someone of any race not related to the emnetwiht touches a dug weapon, it might take a serious toll on their health, right?” She knew. That was why the majority of the lizardfolk soldiers stayed away from them. The brave ones who interacted so closely with them, like Limeskin, made up only a small minority. “You’re featureless, and you don’t look too different from an emnetwiht, but this isn’t something we can decide by superficial features alone.” She knew that. The possibility was small, but it was there; she couldn’t force her life into danger. But. She was named Chtholly Nota Seniorious because her compatible dug weapon was Seniorious. If she was no longer able to touch the sword, then all that was left was the worthless name of Chtholly. “…If I can’t use a sword, then I’m no longer qualified as a faerie soldier.” “That’s true,” Nygglatho casually agreed as she jotted something down at the bottom of the chart. “And since I’m no longer a faerie soldier, I should leave.” “Um… I suppose that’s the natural conclusion, isn’t it?” The troll furrowed her brow. “Don’t say that, though—you’re staying here. I can take care of the one or two relevant documents for you to stay, and it’s not like you have an active reason to leave now, right?” “But—” “I have nothing to do here is not a valid answer. You need to learn that the word boredom is not relevant to the life of a woman who has dreams and ambitions.” She wagged her finger like a mother scolding a child. “You came home. And you are here now. You need to cherish this, you know.” “I know, but—” “You’re right. I suppose we can start your homemaking training in the meanwhile.” …… “What?” “Seriously, though, Willem’s contracted time here will be finished in three months. I mean, the job was originally one where the person in question could be gone, but we would make it seem like he was here on paper, so there’s no basis for it at all if we decide to extend his contract. But to lose him after all this time would be a huge setback for us. Do you understand what I mean?” She knew that. And yet… “But this is Willem we’re talking about, meaning if we asked him to stay, I doubt he would try to leave. That wouldn’t be enough, though. He needs something—something tangible, something to make him truly feel like this is his home. Do you understand what I mean?” She felt like she did, but at the same time, she didn’t. “You discipline the cows and sheep to come back to the barn at night if you want them to roam freely during the day, right?” She didn’t quite understand the metaphor. “Not to mention that the emnetwiht bloodline has now been revived in the modern era—it would be such a pity to see it end with him alone. Even placing edibility aside, he should have a wife, start a family, and make children and grandchildren, no?” Wait. Wait a second. Before she even considered if she understood this or not, she felt like it was something she wasn’t supposed to understand. “I was actually thinking that I might be a good candidate—” “You can’t!!” Ka-thunk. Chtholly stood, kicking her chair backward, and it fell over with a loud clatter. Her face felt hot. Nygglatho’s shocked expression slowly transformed into a mischievous smile. “I can’t? Why?” Willem himself had stated once before that he was into older, broad-minded women. Sadly, those were conditions Chtholly was incapable of fulfilling, no matter how hard she tried. And Nygglatho fulfilled them both perfectly, if only just those two things. “…Then I won’t…stand a chance.” “Really? I suppose that is where it’s just a matter of opinion.” Nygglatho shrugged slightly. “Then put your whole life into becoming a good woman and snatch him up. Some other girl or I might get ahead of you if you dillydally, you know.” She chuckled as she spoke. Chtholly now understood. That was what a broad-minded woman looked like. She felt like all the things she lacked had been pointed out to her all over again.
Chapter 15
35 min read