Chapter 17

Even Without a Visible Future -moonlit sorcery- 1. The Girl Without a Face What am I? Chtholly thought. She was Chtholly Nota Seniorious. Mature faerie soldier. Compatible wielder of dug weapon Seniorious. Someone who had met the single living emnetwiht, Willem Kmetsch, and received from him his teachings—as well as hope. Really? …Really. She summoned Ithea in the middle of the night. “Brrr, sure is cold. Shoulda worn another layer.” They sat at the top of a small hill next to the aire-port. It was always windy here. It gave them a good vantage point, so they’d know right away if someone was coming. “Sorry. This shouldn’t take too long, so bear with me.” “…Hmm?” Ithea shivered, then narrowed her eyes to study Chtholly. “So’s that why you brought me all the way out here? For a little chat? You got something you don’t wanna risk someone else overhearing?” “Yeah, something like that. But you should already know what I’m here to talk about, shouldn’t you?” “Hey, come on. I just know a little more and hear a little more than your average person, but I’m not a god. It’s not like I know anything and everything.” She placed the lantern on the ground as she spoke and sat herself down as well. “Actually, there’s something I want to check with you, too. If ya don’t mind, I’d prefer if I asked you my questions first.” “…Okay, sure. What are they?” “Who are you?” She asked it so naturally, almost as though she was asking what was on the menu for dinner that night. Chtholly’s breath caught for a second. “Chtholly Nota Seniorious.” After a quick, deep breath, she slowly stated her own name, biting into her words. “You sure?” “Do I look like anyone else?” “Guess you have a point.” The wind teased Chtholly’s hair. Her blue hair melted into the darkness of night and rendered it practically invisible. But the red mixed in stood out from the rest, and it looked like it was dancing in the wind. “…Okay then, all the questions from me are done. Your turn.” “Mm.” She looked up to the sky. The black clouds looked like nothing more than shadows, and they sped across the sky above her with fantastic speed. Beyond them, she spotted the blurry stars and a somber gold-colored moon. “I was really worrying about how I should talk to you about this, but if you’re asking me questions like that, then I guess it’s safe to say you’ve seen through me, right?” “Not really. That was more like a surprise question to force an answer out of you, in the style of our officer, and there’s only one thing I can confidently say I got from that: Your past-life encroachment hasn’t gone away or stopped. The personality and memories of Chtholly Nota Seniorious are—in the present continuous tense—being taken over. Right?” “Yeah. I think so.” She grabbed her hair as it whipped about violently and held it to her chest. “Past-life encroachment itself is already rare, and for it to happen before the twenty-year mark is irregular in an already rare case… Right? Is this how your encroachment progressed for you, too?” “I guess you could say so. I myself don’t really remember much, and I think the process was a lot different compared to yours.” Ithea gave a sloppy grin. The smile was a mask. Whenever this girl tried to hide how she was really feeling, she would always plaster on this vague smile. “We’ve known each other a long time, and you knew the old Ithea, too, right? She was bright, nosy, got so involved in everything around her it was annoying, and yet wasn’t honest at all—loved creating fiction and never went a day without writing in her diary. That’s what Ithea Myse Valgulious was like. I first learned that when I read through the girl’s entire diary.” Ah, right, I remember, thought Chtholly. It was about two years ago. There was a time just after Ithea became an adult faerie soldier when she said she’d caught a cold and spent days holed up in her room. This girl must have spent all those days urgently reading through the many, many diaries. In hindsight, now that she thought about it, it was about that time when Ithea’s personality changed slightly… But maybe, maybe not. Back then, they weren’t close enough friends to talk about that. “Was it hard?” “Sure. I thought I was gonna go crazy. There were so many times I just wanted to die. But if I did that, it wasn’t like the original owner of this body…the real Ithea…was going to come back. “I guess the only way I could pay for my sins was to inherit the life of the poor child I erased, of Ithea Myse Valgulious, without anyone noticing… Well, that’s what I told myself, at least, and I’ve made it this far.” “We’re being tricked, aren’t we?” “Yeah. Does that make you mad?” Did it? Was she angry? Chtholly asked herself. She felt no anger, no bewilderment. There was just an oddly silent feeling of understanding. “A diary, hmm.” She sat down by “Ithea’s” side. “Maybe I should start one.” “I dunno. I feel like in your case, it’d be impossible to pass on your life without anyone noticing. Unlike me, see, your appearance is changing.” Oh, right. Maybe the red mixed into her hair would eventually completely overtake her own blue. It wouldn’t be easy to deceive the doubtful gazes around her with such an obvious change present. “Who is it you want to pass on your life to, Chtholly? I know you probably don’t want to hear this from me, but someone who’s not you is going to be going to all the places you wanted to go, and it’s going to be someone else settling down in the places you wanted to stay, you know.” Oh no. She certainly didn’t like the sound of that. “All your feelings of wanting to go somewhere and the wishes you have of staying there will quickly disappear. Regret won’t help anything.” She hugged her knees tightly. “…Or maybe I should die now, while I still remember things.” “That’s one choice you have. I’m serious. We live clinging to our hearts and souls, but you’re going to lose that foundation entirely. It’ll be a lot harder than you can imagine.” “Yeah…” She buried her face in her knees. The girl sitting beside her wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “What’s wrong, Ithea?” “The wind is strong, and I’m cold. I’ve got low body temp, and I’m not like Nephren, so please forgive me.” “…Ah-ha.” A small laugh naturally spilled forth. “Thanks for the chat. You’re pretty warm, though.” “Great. It was worth it living till today then, huh.” So that’s what it was. She didn’t know if it was a phenomenon that was happening as a result of a series of coincidences or if it was happening because someone else intended it to. But past-life encroachment was, in the end, real encroachment—even possibly an invasion. Her self would be undermined, her heart broken, her memories pruned, her spirit killed…and her past life’s spirit, revived through the process of being remembered, would come back and snatch up the physical body she left behind. And none of that had anything to do with her past life’s wishes at all—it all progressed and concluded automatically. There was no miracle of love here. Even if there was, time would soon be running out. The girl named Chtholly Nota Seniorious would soon disappear. “You keeping it a secret from the officer, then?” “Yeah. He’d get worried if he found out about this.” “Well, why not make him worry? You’ve got that right, y’know.” “Yeah, maybe.” It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about it. But if she told him, then she would end up spending the very little time she had left looking at his strained expression. She wanted him to think fondly of her. But she didn’t want him to cry for her. It wasn’t like she wanted him to look at her as someone with the added value of being a tragic heroine. “I want to be happy just a little longer. And I want him to be happy, too… I guess.” “Uh-huh,” the girl said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “That annoying I’m so in love! appeal of yours tells me you’re still no one else but Chtholly, at least.” “That’s how you can tell? Sheesh.” The two exchanged glances and smiled sadly at each other. “At the very least, under no circumstances should you use your magic,” the girl beside her spoke with an absent voice. “Of course, I am me, and you are you. Faeries are, no doubt, a result of a fantasy. The literal only thing they have in common with one another is being the product of souls of children who died too young. Both you and I are the same race but, at the same time, completely different. It doesn’t mean we operate under the same logic. But still, I have this much advice for you.” “Okay.” Chtholly nodded. “You must absolutely never touch a dug weapon. If you want to stick around any longer, that’s the least you can do.” “Okay… I won’t. Thank you, Ithea.” “By the way, you haven’t asked what my real name is, right? Or who I really am?” Chtholly had thought it would be a strange thing to ask. “You’re Ithea, too, aren’t you? You’re bright, nosy, get so involved in everything around you it’s annoying, and yet not honest at all.” She lightly poked Ithea’s nose with the tip of her finger. “You’re an important colleague of ours—a friend. You don’t look like anyone else to me.” “Ba-ha-ha-ha, I appreciate it.” She couldn’t trust Ithea’s smile. Almost everyone who lived in the faerie warehouse felt the same way. No one could entirely believe the expressions of someone who, whether she was happy or sad, angry or perplexed, was always smiling. But. Chtholly thought it was probably okay to trust her. It was a little different this time. A teardrop sat at the corner of Ithea’s eye, glinting slightly as it reflected the lantern’s wavering light. 2. A Girl’s Crush and a Woman in Love He had a terrible dream. In his dream, the master, Navrutri, and His Majesty the Emperor all sat together, drinking. All three of them were extreme in their treatment of women, each in different ways. And so, of course, they seasoned their drinks with talk of women. The master, who was nothing but an old pervert, spoke candidly about boobs and butts; Navrutri, who claimed he had lovers in every city he visited (which was probably true), retold his memories of a beautiful woman he met in the Sands Federation; the Emperor, known for playing around with all his ladies-in-waiting (and for being a henpecked husband), mentioned the innocence of one of the new maids, his eyes hazy like those of a teenage boy in a daydream. I don’t want anything to do with this. The second that thought crossed his mind, the three reached out to grab his shoulder. “Let’s hear your story, too,” Navrutri said, his voice needlessly sweet. “I know you have things to confess,” the master said, pressuring him with a sickening smile. “Oh, I do believe I heard you were spending some time alone with my niece the other day,” the Emperor said, pressuring him about something outrageous. “Wait, I have my daily training to go to right now—” He tried to run, but he couldn’t. They pinned him down and poured glass after glass of alcohol down his throat, and his consciousness soon went hazy, his mouth began to move on its own, and he started to name the names of all the girls around— “—Officer. Hello, Officer! Why’re you sleeping here?” He heard a voice, and Second Officer Willem Kmetsch awoke. He spun his head around, getting his bearings. The first thing he noticed was a huge, unorganized stack of paper. The next thing he saw was a huge, unorganized stack of paper. To his right and left and above him and below him, no matter where he looked, all he could see were the same things. To put it simply, this was the material room. “You weren’t in your room, so I was wondering where you might be, but here you are! Of all places.” “…Oh, Ithea.” The girl with straw-colored hair planted her hands on her hips in frustration. “Yeees, ’tis me, Ithea Myse Valgulious, at your service. By the way, if you don’t head to the dining hall now, there won’t be any breakfast later.” “Oh…” For the first time in a while, he wanted to tidy up the room. But sure enough, the troubles in this vast voyage mounted one after the other, and he completely lost track of when he should take a break, much less what sort of information he should be fishing for. Then, before he knew it, he’d fallen asleep on the couch. “I wouldn’t want to miss a meal, that’s for sure.” He stood up. A small girl rolled off the sofa. “…Ow.” A girl with ashen-colored hair sat up as she complained disinterestedly. “Oh, I thought it was pretty warm. So you were my blanket, Nephren.” “Yes. It’s cold out now, and I don’t want you getting sick.” That made a lot of sense, and he honestly appreciated it. “Thanks… And why are you sleeping here, too?” “Well. It’s cold out now, and I don’t want to get sick.” But that didn’t make much sense, and he probably shouldn’t take it at face value. “Collon came down with a fever yesterday, and she’s been sleeping ever since, and both Tiat and Almita have started sneezing. I think we’ve come to the season where if we’re not careful, we’ll catch it, too.” “I appreciate the consideration, but if you’re gonna sleep anywhere, sleep in your own room.” He lightly poked her forehead. Ithea watched the exchange quietly, her eyelids drooping to the point that they were almost closed. “This would look super inappropriate if I saw this out of context, so why doesn’t it look that way?” “It’s ’cause your mind hasn’t been totally tainted yet, that’s why.” Ithea tilted her head as if to say, “Should I be happy about that?” “Nephren,” she added. “He’s pretty much just treating you like a pet. Are you okay with that?” “Emotional support is important. I believe it’s a worthwhile responsibility.” “I see.” Now that honestly made sense. “…C’mon, let’s go get some breakfast.” Nephren sleepily rubbed her eyes, and Willem pulled her up. “Oh, right— Officer, how’s Chtholly doing?” “What do you mean by how?” “I was just wondering how she felt after being on the receiving end of such passionate charm. I guess she’s not as unhappy as we thought, then?” “I’m not gonna say no, but it’s none of your business.” “Oh.” She looked surprised. “So you do have some heart for her?” “My heart’s been pounding from the start. I’m not a crusty old man or some pervert with peculiar interests. You think there’s some young guy out there who won’t get excited when a cute girl likes him? But I still can’t accept her, so I’m trying my hardest to throw her off, y’know?” “Huh.” …What the hell was he talking about? His mouth was running off in strange directions thanks to the weird dream he had. He sensed going any further would be dangerous territory, so he clammed up. “Don’t tell her” was all he added with a groan. “You were sleeping with Nephren?!” The question came as he was walking down the hall, and someone suddenly grabbed his ear. He gritted his teeth through the pain and turned around, and standing there was a girl with cerulean—no, cerulean and red hair. Chtholly wore a visibly cross expression and looked up at him with wide, angry eyes, glaring sharply into his own. It was somehow honestly frightening. “Sheesh, you too?” He tapped the hand that was holding his ear, urging her to let go. “Can you not say it like that for everyone to hear? What’s wrong with an adult and a child snoozing happily under the same blanket?” “You’re not older by enough years to be considered an adult.” “Ha! I know I look young, but y’know I was actually born over five hundred years ago, right?” “I know. And I’ve heard you spent most of those five hundred years sleeping. That excuse isn’t effective enough for you to look at me with that gotcha! face of yours.” Urgh. Really? He was a bit shocked precisely because he felt so confident. “Well, I can’t imagine you were the one who invited her in, so I think that Nephren probably crawled in on her own.” That was obvious. “But I still don’t get it. You were so confident you’d avoided so many bloodbaths in the past, right? So why didn’t you notice when she came right up to you? Why’d you tell me you could avoid being stabbed in your sleep?” “They’re two completely different things. All I can sniff out are enemies. I’m not gonna be wary of people who aren’t hostile to me—come on.” “Then let me ask you this—if that was Nygglatho, what would you have done?” “Thrown her out the window in two seconds,” he responded quickly and confidently. That was the obvious choice. Letting a troll—and one who had previously declared her appetite for him with gusto, at that—get up close and personal with him would be like asking for certain death. “See? You’d treat her differently than you did Nephren.” “No wait you can’t talk about them like they’re the same because even if there’s no hostility I’ll still respond if there’s danger sheesh I don’t want to die okay and even if that troll isn’t hostile she still has this like general aggressiveness so I really need to be aware of that okay?” “You sound suspicious when you talk fast like that.” “…What do you want me to do?” He dropped his shoulders, disheartened. “Then let me ask you another thing. What would you have done if it was me?” “Of course—” He thought for a moment. He was sure things would get more complicated if he gave a careless answer, and that would be even more so if he asked her to test it out with him. “—I’d chase you out, wouldn’t I?” He thought she would get angry. He thought she would say, “So Nephren’s fine, but I’m not?” “Hmm.” While Chtholly seemed upset, she didn’t pursue the question and let go of the grip she had on Willem’s ear. “You behave now. You know it’ll be big trouble if the little ones start copying her.” “Y-yeah?” She gave his back a light smack and trotted off down the hallway. What was that all about? Willem cocked his head, not quite understanding the situation. He was used to dealing with kids, not women. Thanks to the combination of the two, he never knew—not now, not back when—how to treat adolescent girls. But there was one thing he had a hunch about. “…She’s pushing herself over something, isn’t she?” He wasn’t very confident about that, though. That was the impression he got from her when she acted like things were normal. Today was another day for the faerie warehouse managerial meeting in Nygglatho’s room. Fresh scones rested on a plate. Three kinds of jam sat out, ready for spreading. The kettle sat over the fire, a healthy bubbling sound coming from inside. “…How’s Collon’s cold doing?” “I don’t think we’re in the clear just yet. Her fever has started to go down, but it’s still high. I’ll be going into town tomorrow to get some medicine.” “Okay… If she starts having bad dreams and trouble sleeping at night, put this under her pillow,” Willem said and placed a small piece of metal on the table, just the perfect size to fit in someone’s palm. It didn’t seem decorative at all—just a metal lump. “What’s this?” “An old talisman that prevents nightmares that result from illness. On its own, it’s not restricted to any particular race, and it doesn’t need activated venenum to work. Just put it under a pillow, and it’ll do its thing.” “…Did you always have something this useful?” “I never had it. It’s warehouse equipment.” Nygglatho furrowed her brows. “Wait a moment. I should know about this if it’s warehouse equipment. And I highly doubt a talisman so valuable, one that anyone can use and has function unrelated to battle, could make it through the budget.” “You knew it was here; you just didn’t know what its function was.” He tapped the piece of metal. “It’s one of the pieces that sits in the middle of the blade to make up Seniorious.” “What?” “I told you before, right? The Carillon are collections of wishes, a group of twenty-three or more talismans, tied together by veins of enchantment. That’s why they’re called carillon. So basically, if you undo the ties and pull them apart, one sword would become at least twenty-three different talismans. And Seniorious, by the way, is forty-one pieces.” “Seni…orious?” “The other forty talismans are weirdly unusable, so I just left them in storage. Like, when are you gonna use a talisman for ‘Blades unequipped with magic won’t cut deep’ or ‘Makes a sound if the holder calls themselves by anything other than their real name’?” “Put it back right now!!” She slammed her hands on the table. The teacups rattled precariously, but by some miracle, none of them spilled. “Do you even understand what those Carillon—the dug weapons are?! They are the ultimate weapons that have literally kept Regule Aire afloat! And Seniorious is the most precious and important of these weapons!!” “Yeah, I know.” He nodded. He was even confident that he was the one who knew Seniorious best in this world right now, in both a good and bad way. “Then you should know better! You can’t just tear the sword apart and use it as this—this little charm with a cute little trick! There’s an order of priority to things, you know?!” “Ha-ha. I was wondering what you were gonna say.” He snorted. “A good night’s sleep for Collon tonight is much more important than the fate of the world, right?” “The entire meaning of the warehouse’s existence will crumble from its roots if you say that again!” She clung to her head and squirmed. “Well, that was eighty percent a joke, obviously. I’m at least trying to have good timing here. There aren’t any enemy attacks coming soon, and it’s not like Seniorious’s compatible user can wield a Carillon in her current state. It won’t be finding its way into battle for a while, yeah?” “That’s not quite what the problem is, but…” Defeated, Nygglatho heaved a deep sigh. “Very well, then. My superiors won’t get angry with us if they don’t find out, and I do want to help Collon in some way as well… Be sure to put it back in its spot when you’re finished, okay?” “Sure thing. I really like how understanding you are.” “Don’t say that to me. Right now, I’m waist-deep in self-hatred.” She shook her head a few times, then downed her tea in one gulp. That seemed to somehow help fix her mood. “—By the way, do you still have that talisman of yours? That, ah, language comprehension one you used just after being brought back from stone?” “Yeah.” He tapped his chest. “Haven’t used it since learning the official language, though. It uses language as a mediator and just conveys intention as is, so all the subtleties of a conversation go out the window.” “I just had a thought. Why not sell it and pay back your debt all at once?” “You know this is booty Glick and friends salvaged from the surface. I’ve been borrowing it all this time for free. I’ve gotta give it back at some point.” “It was yours on the surface in the first place, though, wasn’t it?” “If you put it like that, then we could even say that a number of the talismans here should be mine. Because even though I couldn’t use higher-class swords, I’ve tried a good number of consumer-level Carillon… Oh, and by the way, what happened to Tiat’s sword?” “We’re still in the process of testing several candidate swords. Right now, Ignareo has become a leading contender.” “That’s kind of a low-class sword, huh. That’s a good thing.” “It seems so. I am not exactly sure how I should feel, since I can’t be happy about this in my position.” Only Braves could use the Carillon. Braves were those who required strength: people who inherited lost techniques, people who were burdened with tragedy at birth, people who dedicated their whole hearts and souls with vows. Only those who had backgrounds that prompted others to say, “They look like they could be very powerful,” could actually gain that power in reality. Being unable to wield a greater Carillon meant their necessity for that strength was not too powerful. It meant that one didn’t have to give up their life for nonsense like fate or tragedy or vows. “Tiat herself said she wanted a sword as strong as Seniorious, you know. She said she wanted to be strong enough one day to work in Miss Chtholly’s place.” “I completely and totally understand how she feels, but I don’t think that’s possible.” With a wry smile, he reached out to the cup of tea she’d prepared for him. He took a sip. It was more bitter than the tea he’d gotten used to drinking in this room. He really didn’t know very much about tea, but maybe she used different leaves this time. “It’s not easy to gain her recognition. That’s why I’m here now.” During a lull in their conversation, Willem’s earlier conversation with Chtholly suddenly crossed his mind, and he told Nygglatho about it. Just as he finished, she suddenly burst out into laughter, grasping her stomach as she did. “That wasn’t supposed to be funny, y’know.” “I—I knooow. That’s why it’s funnyyy!” Her voice shook, clearly a sign her abdominal muscles were still spasming. “You do understand what’s going on, but you truly are the awkward one, aren’t you?!” “I don’t get it.” “She was happy you would treat her the same way as me.” Nygglatho let him in on the secret as she wiped the corners of her eyes. “…So why would she be happy to be treated the same way as a troll?” “I am her number one rival in love, the one she’s most cautious of. To her, treating us both the same way means, at the very least, that you see her as a woman, right?” “Oh, okay.” He took one of the scones, put a dollop of apricot jam on top, then threw it into his mouth. It was pretty sweet, but since the bitterness of the tea still lingered on the tip of his tongue, it didn’t taste too heavy. He was a little impressed with how attentive to detail she was. “…Rival in love?” “That was a bit of a delayed reaction, wasn’t it?” “I wasn’t expecting that at all. It took me a while to process it. Is it, what, that you and I could end up glued together in Chtholly’s eyes?” “Hmm, well, it sounds like it needs a little more supplementary information than that, but exactly.” “Okay, that makes sense,” he said, munching on his scone. “I guess you are the only adult woman here, and I guess her way of thinking isn’t too unnatural for a girl her age, huh?” “Hmm, you’re not entirely wrong, but there’s one thing I hope you don’t mind correcting?” “What thing?” “You don’t need to say her age. Because I do have the same opinion as her, you know.” He didn’t quite grasp what she meant right away, so he thought for a bit. He unconsciously drank some more tea as he thought. “I think rather highly of you as a man in general.” He choked. The bitter tea slipped deep into his windpipe. He couldn’t breathe. He struggled. Nygglatho rested her chin on her folded hands, gleefully watching Willem as he writhed in pain. “I’m rather serious when I think about being with someone like you. You’re promising, mean to trolls but kind on the inside, we’ve already proven that we respect each other’s work, you like children, we have similar tastes in food, we’re both featureless, you’re not bad looking, you could probably subdue my father without a scratch if he starts acting up once he’s gotten drunk, and most importantly, you look delicious. See? You’re a real catch.” “Wait. Some of the stuff in the second half sounded weird.” “So you accept that the first half wasn’t so bad?” That wasn’t it. That wasn’t supposed to be the case, but he couldn’t express it well. “More importantly, they say that all the various races related to fiends branched off from the emnetwiht. Tribally, we aren’t so far apart. So I may be able to provide a family for you that is related to you by blood. That should be the most definite reason for you to continue living in this world now. I would be so chuffed if I could provide happiness for you five, ten years down the line. That is the biggest reason why I wouldn’t mind so much being tied with you.” He didn’t really know how to react to what Nygglatho said. The only thing he understood was that she was serious. Her mischievous smile and teasing quips were nothing more than her own way to hide her embarrassment. “Well, my hopes to make sure Chtholly is happy are more important, so I won’t be too aggressive in shooting her down. Yet she can’t just ignore me due to the way she feels. Does that make sense?” “Can I just ask you an awful question?” Willem groaned as he asked, stewing in his self-loathing. “What is it?” “Can I pretend I never heard any of this?” “You truly are awful. But do whatever you want.” She chuckled. It didn’t seem like her feelings were hurt. But Willem still couldn’t bring himself to look at her. 3. The Large and Youthful Lizard There were two kinds of people in the world: Those who could have a cup of tea and calm down, and those who couldn’t. Island No. 68, the town center, the usual café. The semifer waiter was so terrified of them that Willem almost took pity. He felt bad for thinking about how he just wanted the guy to grin and bear it. “There’s no tea at this shop, so I always wonder what I should have to drink…” Nygglatho tilted her head, eyeing the menu plate out of the corner of her eye. “I ssshall have a medicssinal drink,” the massive lizardfolk—Limeskin—announced with solemnity, his gigantic body balanced precariously on the tiny chair. “Uh… I guess I’ll have coffee.” “I was thinking the same… May I order some food as well?” Without waiting for the other two at the table to answer, Nygglatho beckoned the waiter. She gave him their order, then unnecessarily added with a great portion of playfulness, “I’ll eat you if our order doesn’t come quickly enough.” “Seriously? You shouldn’t threaten people so unreasonably like that.” “I wasn’t threatening him. It was just a cute joke with a bit of bite.” She puffed out her cheeks. “Okay, well, there’s a bookstore on the corner there. Today should be the day when you go buy yourself a dictionary for Regule Aire’s official language.” “Gosh, again with the teasing?” “I’m just being considerate.” Willem rested his elbow on the table and his cheek on his hand and narrowed his eyes at Nygglatho. Limeskin opened his mouth, and the quiet rattling sound of his laugh spilled forth. “You two are quite clossse, aren’t you?” “Not at all.” One first needed to be aware of a lack of common sense in order to learn about common sense. In order to correct the mistakes of this mistaken troll, who thought she was acting with common sense, the person beside her had to explain to her in detail what was right and what was wrong. And Willem just so happened to be the only person around who could do that. So that was what he was doing. That was all. “…And so? Why are we meeting like this today? There has to be a reason why you brought this big lizard, who was enjoying his privacy, all the way out here, right?” “Oh? You can ssee thiss iss not within our current military affairsss?” “Anyone can tell just by looking at you.” Now that he thought about it, he sort of felt like he’d come across Limeskin a good number of times: the rickety tower on Island No. 28, the harbor on Island No. 68, and the Winged Guard headquarters in Collina di Luce on Island No. 11. In every single encounter, he was wearing his (probably custom-made) military uniform. The combination of his large stature and uniform gave an imposing, overpowering feeling, and it truly left a strong, lasting impression. And yet, his outfit now… “What kind of fashion sense is that?” “It isss my daughter’ss choice. I am quite pleasssed with it.” “………Okay.” It was a bit…rough around the edges. He wore a linen shirt and a leather jacket. It was the kind of style that young orcs were really into, with a number of garish threads embroidered on the shoulder. His whole look brought about an exquisite sense of unease, like it matched yet didn’t quite match the milky-white scales that covered the man’s body. “Ssshe iss a beautiful girl, with sssssmooth ssssscaless, like her mother.” “I’m not listening.” Willem hadn’t known Limeskin even had a daughter in the first place. Oh, he knew what he was up to. He was going to start bragging about his daughter to Willem, huh? Then that meant he had to be prepared for some counter-bragging. While they weren’t related by blood and he had no intention whatsoever of comparing looks, no one could beat the combined power of his kids’ adorableness and preciousness! But if he spoke his mind, he might find himself caught in quicksand, so he clamped his mouth shut and kept himself in check. “Willem. It’s written all over your face that you want to brag about your own daughters in return.” That was Nygglatho. He at least wanted her to appreciate how he didn’t actually say it out loud. “Asss commander of our earlier lossss, I have been ordered a ssusspensssion. I sssshall not be wearing the Guard’ss uniform for a while now.” “That’s a pretty lousy punishment, too.” The “earlier loss,” the battle that led to the fall of Island No. 15, wasn’t supposed to be the kind of battle where responsibility landed on the shoulders of the frontline commander anyway. But assuming it was his responsibility, then a suspension was much too easy of a punishment. So in essence, this suspension was just for appearances, though Willem wasn’t sure if it was meant for the satisfaction of the people inside or outside the Winged Guard. It was probably just a measure to forcibly put a finishing touch to the end of the incident that was the island’s fall, since there were too many trade secrets at play that prevented proper disclosure of information to the public. Organizations were a kind of organism. Once its body became large enough, it required some extra labor and irrationalities to keep on living. It seemed all those bothersome parts of organizations hadn’t changed since the past. “I do not need pity. A warrior’ss body ssometimesss requiresss a ressst. I am quite enjoying myssself.” Oh yeah. A (probably) grown man was just getting excited over his rare chance to dress up. “Um, ahem.” Nygglatho cleared her throat deliberately. “Should we perhaps get to the topic at hand soon?” Oh, he’d brought up the subject himself, but he’d completely forgotten. “First: I want to brainstorm with the two of you how we should be handling Chtholly from now on. Her current condition is unlike any of the previous faeries.” “Hmm.” Then came the food they ordered, the plates and silverware clattering on the tray. There was the pungent medicinal drink, two cups of coffee, and a plate with a thick-cut bacon sandwich. “…Since mature faerie soldiers are weapons, there is no retirement or honorable discharge within the system of handling them. Though she is no longer a faerie, she is still, on paper, being treated like a faerie soldier. I want the management in the Alliance and the Guard to call an exception, so that we may let her step down from the front line.” “Ssshe isss no longer a faerie—isss thiss indeed true?” That was the right question to ask. Someone tossing away the race they were born with and switching to something else was an absurd idea—and not easily believed. Willem still felt the same way. However— “I checked many times. But the conclusion was still the same.” If the very person who would be the first to doubt those conclusions told him so, then he couldn’t cling to logic much longer. “Why not change the system itself? It’s obviously not compatible with the current situation, yeah?” “The very process for changing it would take time. Years, at worst. If she received orders to go on a mission in the meanwhile, just once, then there would no longer be any point.” “…To sssome extent, I am able to control which warriorsss are dessignated for missssionss.” “I know. That’s why I invited you here today, so I may ask you directly to do something ‘to some extent.’” “Asss a member of the Guard, I cannot resspond to ssuch a corrupt proposssal.” He took a sip of the medicinal drink. His elderly-looking appearance clashed with his youthful attire. Now that he thought about it, how old was this lizardfolk anyway? A characteristic of their race, which had the greatest variance of stature among individuals, was that the age of maturity varied greatly depending on individual differences. Those of large stature spent a very long time growing up. He could imagine that this individual, who had a daughter and was in the high position of first officer, had to have lived for quite a long time to accomplish both of these things. “But now, I am a private cssitizen on holiday. I have earnessstly consssidered your requessst.” “Thank you, truly.” Nygglatho gave a very grown-up small sigh of relief. For better or for worse, the act looked like it suited her real age. There was a bit of a different air about her from when she was dealing with the little kids at the faerie warehouse. She was like a sister much older than him, like a mother close in age. This, too, was just another one of the many faces she wore. “…Hey. There’s something I just thought of, listening to you guys.” He didn’t like how adults did things. He didn’t do very well with that. But it was probably the same for the other two. So he probably shouldn’t be worrying too much about what he was or wasn’t good with right now. “There’s a Great Sage, yeah? How connected is he to the Guard?” Limeskin’s shoulders shuddered slightly. “That man isss the greatessst point of conssult for the Winged Guard. He hasss very few officssial authoritiesss, but hisss voice and influencsse hold great power.” “Perfect. So go ahead and announce this to the Guard so that this great point of consult hears you: The second enchantments officer has chosen Chtholly Nota Seniorious as the perfect sample for experimentation that might shed light on the very mysterious ecology of leprechauns.” “Wha—?” Nygglatho blinked. “What are you talking about? Experiment?” “The enchantments officer is a research position, right? Then requesting equipment and material for research should be an obvious right. Even though it’s just a title, I should be able to make this request. And if it goes through, then we can treat Chtholly independently of the other faeries, at least for the time being.” “That’s only if it goes through, you know. And by Great Sage, you mean the Great Sage from the Regule Aire creation myth, right? Why are we talking about him, of all people?” “We’re old friends. We’re used to asking for weird stuff from each other.” Nygglatho looked at him as though she was gazing down on a pitiful being. Looked like she didn’t believe him. Oh well, it really wasn’t important enough to make her believe him. “Now what sssort of experiment would thiss be, exactly?” “An observation on the process of recovery from a character breakdown and how natural stressors in an environment different from a battlefield might affect that. Tell ’im we’ll be prescribing her special medicine as we watch her condition, too.” “…And so?” “We’ll take her away from battle and just let her live a regular daily life. And while we’re at it, we’ll also ask for a special budget for food for the faerie warehouse sometimes.” “And will the path presssent itssself if the Great Sssage hearsss of thisss plan?” “Yeah.” During their conversation on Island No. 2, Willem saw how greatly he and the Great Sage differed in perception. The Sage was the protector of Regule Aire and looked at everything from a long-term point of view. So he was detached emotionally when he looked at the faeries and could view them as pure military power. That was the kind of person he had to be; if not, then Regule Aire would have fallen long ago. That aside, Willem had a hard time accepting his way of thought and didn’t want to be like him at all. If he were to pass judgment from the Sage’s point of view, he could not treat the single faerie Chtholly any differently, even if she was indeed the compatible user of the powerful Seniorious. He needed a system to preserve and maintain the required level of firepower for the long-term in order to keep the world safe. Those at the top should not be futilely pouring resources into Chtholly, one girl who may never be able to return to the battlefield. “Whatever he says, he’s still an honest guy. Even if he doesn’t want to do it, he’ll always look for the best way to deal with the situation in front of him. So the best way to get him to do something is to add value to another option. So if I make the request to look after Chtholly via the Guard, then he’ll probably say yes. I don’t think he’ll pass up on an opportunity to get me to owe him.” “…What? Wait, don’t tell me you’re actually old friends?” “Well, the real problem is how Chtholly’s been a little off and what our fighting power will be like once she’s gotten through all this. It’d be a huge burden to just have Ithea and Nephren attacking alone.” He hesitated slightly before continuing. “And it’s still early, but Tiat will need to mature, too.” “Well, about that, actually.” Nygglatho raised her hand briefly, her expression darkening. “I received contact from Orlandry this morning. The surface research team was attacked by a large-scale Beast, and the airship Saxifraga was shot down.” “Huh?” “Mm…” Limeskin’s expression clouded over…or at least, that’s what it felt like it did. “Did the warriorsss fight well?” “The attack happened in the evening, just before takeoff. The pushback was a success. The good news is that the two were unhurt, though a bit exhausted. That being said, they have no choice but to stay on land overnight, and they have no way to get home, so the situation is quite grave.” “I sssee. Then ssssurely you ssshall sssend them the wingss of ressscue?” “Most likely. But it is not that easy to arrange for an airship big enough to land on the surface. It might take a little time.” “Like piercssing a dragon’sss sssscaless with a needle, hmm? I hope it all goess sssmoothly.” Willem didn’t know why they started talking about this all of a sudden. He was pretty sure they were talking about all the battle-ready faeries still left in the warehouse. So why’d they change the subject to a “surface research team”—probably literally a group of people sent out by the Alliance to research the surface—that didn’t have anything to do with that? He didn’t get it. “Uh, hold on a second, guys. I need an explanation.” The troll and the lizardfolk both turned to look at him. “An explanation for what?” “Why’d you wait until now to start talking about the surface? Even if finding another Carillon is the happiest news of the day, it’s not gonna change the faeries’ burden.” “What do you mean why?” She looked at him blankly, then gazed at the ceiling in thought. “Ah-ha!” Suddenly, she gave a short burst of laughter. It wasn’t entirely unusual for Nygglatho to act eccentrically, and Willem was used to it. But he still wished she had a bit more tact about it. “Oh, right, that’s right. It’s only been a month since you’ve come, hasn’t it?” She chuckled delightedly. “I was so used to your desperate and awkward dad act that it doesn’t feel like that anymore.” “Shaddup. Desperate and awkward are too much.” “So you’re aware you act like a dad, then?” “Just tell me. Who on earth have you been talking about?” “Um, well… Right now, how many mature faerie soldiers do you think there are in the warehouse?” “Three, not counting Chtholly. And if not counting Tiat, since she hasn’t been assigned a sword yet, then two.” “Sorry, but the correct answer is five. Ithea, Nopht, Nephren, Rhantolk, and finally Tiat.” Willem looked up to the ceiling. “There are two names I haven’t heard before. Where’d you hide them?” “Can’t you tell where I’m going with this? It’s there, over there.” Nygglatho pointed downward. There was nothing on the table. There wouldn’t be anything on the floor. What Nygglatho was gesturing to was much, much farther away. Willem snagged a piece of the bacon sandwich that sat before Nygglatho, tossed it into his mouth, chewed and swallowed it, then let the first word he thought of roll right out of his mouth without a filter. “Seriously?” Seriously. The troll and the lizardfolk nodded in unison. 4. Gray Days atop the Gray Now, this is the story of what happened on the surface. The general turn of events went just as Nygglatho described. The surface observation airship Saxifraga was attacked by a Beast and was shot down. It appeared from a fierce sandstorm. Its silhouette didn’t look entirely unhumanoid. It had a torso with a head and arms and legs growing out of it. But getting any closer would completely knock that image off the table. A reddish-brown shell covered its mansion-size body, and peeking out from the gaps in the shell were thousands of eyeballs. It was Beast Number Four, the One who Twists and Swallows—Legitimitate. The same could be said for all the Beasts identified as yet, but their behavioral principles remained unknown. In both the stricter and wider senses of the word, all living things naturally existed to survive. In the stricter sense, it was for the individual’s survival. In the wider sense, it was to keep one’s species alive in the world for as long as possible. Eating and sleeping and looking for a mate—everything could be logically concluded as either type of survival. Every form of life was born, lived, and died with these goals ingrained in their very being. That was the way it should be. But it was apparently different for them. How they handled reproduction was unknown, but at the very least it was evident that each individual was not particularly thinking about how to survive. Though they didn’t easily die, they acted in a way that put their lives on the line as they went after the beings of Regule Aire. From the era five hundred years ago to now, they had only one goal— Kill the living. Or maybe it was even to break the moving. There was probably no distinction between the two in their minds. Of all the Beasts found on the surface, Legitimitate was one of the most commonly encountered. At the same time, however, it posed a rather low threat. It relied on sound and movement to search for its prey. First things first when encountering one was to shut your mouth and cease all movement. Then, if you moved so slowly that it didn’t take notice, you might be able to escape alive. That was the basis for its categorization as a “low” threat, and it was information that was considered common sense among salvagers, and that was an order that should have been thoroughly explained to the research team during the mission briefing. But panic erupted almost immediately anyway. As the researchers tried to escape the scene to preserve their own lives, the Beast chased them one after the other, a single swipe of its arm cutting them all cleanly at the waist. The final cries for help and pools of blood brought about another wave of panic, and the damages spread rapidly. The worst part came afterward. At the time, the research team’s supervisor, the first mechanics officer, was inside the Saxifraga as it rested on the sand. When he saw the tragedy unfolding outside his window, he immediately cried out and rushed to the control room. He unsheathed his ceremonial sword and threatened the operators, making them turn on the furnaces to begin takeoff. It relied on sound and movement to search for its prey. The Beast immediately heard the deep humming sound of the driving furnaces. Its large body, close to a small mountain in sheer size, dashed along the sand with frightening speed and rammed its raised arms against its prey. There was a dreadful crushing sound. The simple but ironclad ship was sliced through as though it may as well have been thin linen, and all its ballast spilled out. With all its ballast gone, the ship tipped over, its body twisted, and began to tear apart. Then— “What the hell are you doing—?!” The two leprechauns finally arrived on the scene and cut the Beast down, and the commotion immediately came to an end. There were eighteen dead, almost half of the whole crew. All the horses brought for transport and other animals had perished as well. And the airship Saxifraga, collapsed on the sand, was now no longer capable of flight. The sun set. Everyone was tired. To make matters worse, the airship was already nothing more than a giant husk. Without any other choice, half of the survivors crawled into tents, settling down to sleep in an attempt to rid themselves of consciousness. The rest each built their own fire and sat around it. “—I’d say you girls did pretty well.” The boggard man spoke vacantly as he spun his stick of skewered meat. The fire made a quiet cracking sound as it slowly roasted the horse meat. “Usually this’d end up in total destruction, but the fact that we’ve got this many survivors is a miracle. We should be counting those people, not the dead.” “You really think you can call this survival?” Nopht responded, wrapped in a blanket and staring at the flames. “The ship can’t fly, which means we can’t get back to Regule Aire, you know.” “There’s a high-speed ship out there that’s got our status report. We just need to take it easy for a bit, and help will come before we know it.” “Take it easy, huh?” The girl bit into the meat. “We can’t escape to the sky once night comes, and we’ll have to spend every single hour of the day on this sand. One or two of ’em should be fine, but if we get too many Visitors, I don’t think we can do much with just the two of us.” “Eh, that probably won’t happen. We probably won’t see another Four, at least not for a while,” Glick said plainly as he began to roast a new skewer. “Why’s that?” “Legitimitate’s behavior is such that it won’t live near other Fours. I guess you could also think of it the other way around—you won’t find another Four after it’s appeared once.” “First I’ve heard of that.” Nopht’s eyes widened. “It’s a pretty well-known story among us salvagers. The other Beasts don’t run around actively, so as long as we stay put here, we should be able to keep the threats to a minimum. Even if we’re not optimistic about it.” “Huh.” Impressed, Nopht turned to the other girl beside her. “Did ya know about this, Rhan?” No answer. Of course, the indigo-haired girl was wrapped in a blanket, staring silently at the wavering flames, not even moving a muscle. “…What, she tired?” “Nah, she’s not. This is what happens when she starts thinking. She enters her own world and can’t hear voices or any other stuff around her at all.” She took a skewer in hand, made sure the meat was cooked all the way through, then shoved a piece into Rhantolk’s mouth. “Mgh?!” That brought the girl back. “Mrh mrgh!” Rhantolk’s eyes widened in bewilderment, and a moment later her cheeks turned bright red. Hot, hot, hot, hot. Still wordlessly, she flailed her arms and legs about under her blanket, but even then, she didn’t spit out the food in her mouth. “Don’t get too carried away in your thoughts when you’re eating. Show respect to the food by concentrating on what’s in front of you— Hasn’t Nygglatho scolded you like that plenty of times already?” Nopht said, mimicking a lecturing tone as she pierced new pieces of meat onto the skewer. “This girl, I swear. You’da spaced out until your meat turned to coal if I left you alone. This is our first helping of real food in a long time. You need to savor and enjoy the meat, otherwise it’d be rude to the horses!” “B-but still, you don’t have to suddenly shove it in my mouth!” “Okay, okay, but eat your veggies before you complain. Sheesh, they’re burned to a crisp.” “I—I know! Gosh!” Her face red, Rhantolk reached out to a skewer by the fire. “I wouldn’t take the skewers over here if I were you. Boggard seasoning won’t suit your tastes at all, ladies.” “I know!” “But now that you mention it, I do want to give it a shot.” “Bad manners, Nopht!” Glick chuckled with a low voice. “…Ah, is something wrong, Glick?” “Nah, nothing. I was just thinking about how you act more like teenagers than I thought. I heard an acquaintance of mine called you guys the ultimate weapons that were protecting Regule Aire. I thought you’d be more military-like or that you would be sulky because you’d given up on life. You’re kinda cute, somehow.” “Huh. First time we’ve been called cute.” Nopht smiled, amused. “I still plan on properly sulking, though,” Rhantolk added, blowing on her skewered vegetables. Rhantolk thought as she munched on her burnt carrots. The Beasts were full of mysteries. In fact, they were nothing but mysteries. Five hundred years ago, everyone gave up on learning about them. And in those five hundred years since, no one had risen up to try and learn about them again. They were the ultimate calamity, unleashed upon the world by the cursed race, the emnetwiht. They were described in a way that was easy to understand yet explained nothing, and she hadn’t thought any more about them. But. She remembered. —The emnetwiht race should never have been started. This was the first and greatest sin of the Visitors, who created them. That was a passage from the ancient text they had recently excavated, a phrase Rhantolk had just deciphered. The people freed the Beasts, and the world filled with the gray truth— That was probably a mistranslation. After all, it wasn’t as though she’d studied the emnetwiht language. She just knew basic grammar and a few words here and there. She was trying to force her way through a difficult passage at her skill level, so of course she would make a mistake somewhere. It had to be so, otherwise there were too many oddities. The Beasts were supposed to have been created and freed upon the world by the emnetwiht. But if she read it and interpreted it as it was in the text, then the Beasts were not created by an emnetwiht hand but instead— “You can’t just start thinking again right after I told you not to—you’ll mess up your digestion!” “Mgh?!” This time, a nicely roasted potato was stuck into Rhantolk’s mouth. Hot, hot, hot, hot. 5. Island No. 49 How was one supposed to go down from the top of the sky? Even an infant knew the easiest option, and that was to go to the nearest island rim, face outward, and take a step forward. After flying for literally over a thousand marmer, one may give the motherland a passionate, hard-core kiss. Passage that came at the simple cost of one life. Cheap stuff. But if someone fancied a different way of going about it, then it became exponentially more difficult. Adding the condition of being able to come back made it even more so. They said Regule Aire was contained by a large barrier. If a regular airship that was typically used for going among islands tried to pass through this barrier, all of its gauges would lose control, and it would no longer be able to fly properly. To prevent that, all machines needed Wessex Bordering, a protective measure specifically for flying to the surface. But the work required to furnish that also took quite a bit of time and money, so it couldn’t be done at the snap of a finger. It would take six days, even after pushing the timeline to its limit, to install the Bordering on the Plantaginesta, the semi-great whale-class transport airship that would retrieve the survivors of the research team and the results of their study from the surface. That was the explanation he got at the Winged Guard base on Island No. 49. “Why d’ya need such a big ship, though?” “Choose your words carefully, Second Officer. I am the first officer, you know? I’m more important than you.” A gremian wearing a guard uniform screeched in displeasure. The gremian only came up to Willem’s waist, and it was too easy to overlook his shoulders. And on his shoulders was a proud collection of badges with intricate designs on them. Oh, right, military organizations are pretty strict with the hierarchy. The absent thought went through Willem’s mind a little too after-the-fact. He once fought alongside the armies of the Empire and the old kingdom five hundred years ago. But he had a feeling he didn’t actually belong to either of them. It was pretty new to him. “My apologies, First Officer. This is a voyage into a new frontier for me, so please forgive me.” “H-hmph. Very well—that’s good enough.” Though he appeared taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor, it seemed to have calmed his mood. “Now, you were asking why we needed such a large ship, yes? Very well. I shall explain it to you, since I am a very kind first officer. Because I am a very kind first officer, after all.” Ugh, make him stop. Willem hid his true feelings behind a smile and bowed his head. “I give you my thanks, very kind First Officer.” “Very well.” The gremian, now in a much better mood, began to babble. “To put it simply, we have lots of cargo. This study originally stemmed from the discovery of an emnetwiht ruin whose original form was comparatively more well preserved. This was a long-term study for the very reason that we estimated there would be plenty of results to be taken home, and in reality, we received a report that they discovered an incredible number of relics that absolutely could not be left behind on the surface.” “…The dangers to the research team grow greater every day we delay the rescue.” The gremian looked at him like he was nuts. “Everyone on the research team is aware of the risks involved in gaining the surface’s wisdom. And as you may already know, they have two of our Winged Guard anti-Beast protective weapons with them. It’s for times like these we let those guys at the Alliance look big, so they’ve got to play their part, you know.” “……” The air froze. A bird fell from the sky outside the window. A cat napping in the shade of a tree gave a yelp and ran off. The soldiers working hard at their jobs in the same building as them all suddenly felt a dreadful, agonizing chill for no reason. Some fell from their chairs, some gave out cries, and some immediately went on guard. “Mm, the muscles in your face seem to be tense. Is something the matter?” The gremian looked at him blankly, not appearing to notice the odd events happening around them. “Oh, it’s nothing. It is perhaps just as you say, wise First Officer.” “Okay. It’s hard to read you featureless’s expressions. Oh, by the way, I’ve got just the reading material for you. You may be a second officer just for decoration, but you’ll probably understand how important this study is when you see this.” He tossed a file in Willem’s direction. It was a simple document; ten-odd report-looking pages were tied together with string. The title, scribbled across the front with messy handwriting, read, Ground Level K96—MAL Ruins Second Study Report. I don’t care about what they’re picking out from the ground after all this time, Willem thought, but the file did pique his interest. He knew they were putting a good amount of money and people into these land studies. What was it the Alliance and the Guard were looking for with all that effort? “May I look inside?” “You can’t take it out of this room, though.” Willem took the file in his hand and opened it. The first few pages had data on their coordinates and ship routes. He didn’t understand any of this technical stuff, so he skipped it. Next was a map of the entire ruins, sketched in relief as accompaniment for the excavation. Apparently, five hundred years ago, that used to be the location of a town with about three thousand emnetwiht residents. The main road was paved with large cobblestones and was lined with cheaply built group housing. There was a large structure to the northeast that might have been something like a city hall. Presumably, there was a forest surrounding the town at the time, and there was a total of four rivers of all sizes both within the town and outside it, two of which seemed to have been redrawn as man-made canals. “……” Damn, most of this is pretty close, he thought absently to himself. There were indeed about three thousand people living in that town, and the roads were paved with cheap-looking cobble, and there was once a pretty large forest surrounding it. The number of rivers was a little off, though; if they were also counting man-made canals, then they were missing two rivers. The form of the town shown on the map looked exactly like a town that was once in Imperial territory called Gomag—Willem’s hometown. He looked for a facility on the map just outside of town. It was a shabby wooden building that was already pretty worn down five hundred years ago. He couldn’t find it. Maybe their study hadn’t reached that far yet, or maybe there was simply no trace of it left. “That’s not the interesting part, is it? Go to the next page, the next page.” The first officer urged him on, so he turned the page. There was a simple list of discovered artifacts and talismans, pictures and documents. It felt like the center of his brain had turned to lead. His vision swam over the letters that comprised the list, but what was written on the page didn’t reach his brain. “That document was created by the report sent in from the messenger ship that arrived just the other day. So that means all the prizes written there are still waiting to be collected on the surface now.” But how much does that really matter? Willem thought. If you want a picture painted by an emnetwiht, I’ll draw you all the pictures you want. So just hand over that pen and paper. You want pottery? I’ll make you some pots. You want some books? I’ll write you the greatest timeless masterpiece there ever was. Then— “Dug weapon…Lapidemsibilus…?” His eyes were drawn to a phrase near the middle of the list. “Yes, there was apparently an inscription on the hilt. It seems to be quite a high-ranking weapon. With this, Regule Aire’s protection has grown a level sturdier!” He shouldn’t listen to how delighted the first officer sounded. Lapidemsibilus, the blade of stalwart defense of life. It was the Carillon that one of Willem’s old companions, Navrutri, used. But why did they find it there, of all places? He should have been off to battle with the Visitors, just like the rest of them were. The Tihuana District, which was acting like a battlefield at the time, and the town of Gomag were so far away, on practically opposite sides of the country. No, that aside, more importantly… “I see… Lapidem, huh! That’s one way to do it!” The world before him suddenly shone brighter. “Urm, hmm?” He grabbed the gremian’s arm and nodded his head up and down excitedly. “This is a fantastic military achievement, courageous First Officer! The research team has certainly accomplished a great triumph! All of Regule Aire must welcome the heroes and their accomplishments!” “Y-yes, of course. I am pleased to see you understand all this.” Overwhelmed, the gremian nodded several times. “And, you see, I’m also thinking that we may have to add further protection to the Plantaginesta, which we’re sending to go get them. So I want a dug weapon with a compatible spirit to go along.” He pondered. It sounded like an obvious request. At the present, there was no forecast for any future attacks by Timere. The forecasts were reliable, and the larger the scale of the attack, the earlier it could be predicted—in short, there wouldn’t be any large-scale battles in the few days to come, at least. So the risk was low in the faerie soldiers leaving Regule Aire at the moment. Of course the Alliance would ask for the faerie’s protection, and of course the Winged Guard would accept their request; it was hard to say that it was very reasonable for this decorative second officer to raise a fuss about it here. Based on all that, he thought some more. “…May I make a request, oh generous First Officer?” “Hmm?” The gremian tilted his head. “Do ya think you can add another seat to that ship?” He took his leave from the room, walked down the halls to exit the base, and rushed along the tranquil and rural roads to get to Island No. 49’s second city. The closer an island’s number was to No. 1, the closer to the center of Regule Aire it floated. And in almost the same manner, that applied to how accessible it was and how many people lived there. The larger cities were mostly concentrated on islands numbered forty and below, and islands numbered seventy and above were mostly untouched, left in their natural state. Island No. 49. It wasn’t a pretty number. And here, just like the number it represented, was a city that sat somewhere in the middle—not very big but not small enough. “Oh, there you are!” She sat under a dark-green umbrella in an open-air café that faced the plaza. Before her was an empty glass of juice and a partially eaten cream cake. Chtholly was sitting there clearly bored when she saw him cutting across the plaza to approach her, and she gave him a big wave. “Sheesh, you’re so late! I was getting tired of waiting!” “Sorry ’bout that. Lots of stuff happened. Ready to go?” “Wait, let me eat this first.” Before she even finished speaking, she made the cake sitting on the plate vanish in an instant. It was a technique that made Willem, who was, by the way, a seasoned veteran, watch in bewilderment. “Mmm.” And indeed, Chtholly’s mouth slacked sloppily. Chtholly never ate sweets at the dining hall in the faerie warehouse. Her reasoning being that she never wanted to show her unbecoming expression to the little ones. That made sense now. He felt the explanation was pretty persuasive. “Sorry about that. Now, let’s go shopping.” She stood, took the hat that occupied the seat next to her, and placed it on her head. This neighborhood wasn’t particularly discriminatory toward featureless. There really wasn’t much point in going out of the way to hide her head. He’d explained that to her before they left the warehouse, but she insisted, “It’s fine. It doesn’t really matter, does it?” “What order should we do things?” she asked. “I think we should visit the bookstore last. Everyone made so many requests for me to pick up, so there would be a lot to carry. I don’t think it’d be so nice to lug such a heavy load around.” “…You look pretty pumped about it, though.” “Really? You must be imagining things.” She started to walk off before she even finished speaking. “It’s not often we get to walk around outside, just the two of us. I probably look excited because of that. By not often— Actually, I think this is our first time doing this, right?” “Of course not.” Willem sighed. “The first time we met, we ran around all over the place. Don’t tell me you forgot about that, too?” “Oh… Right. Ah-ha-ha!” Her expression was guilty, and she tried to brush it off with a smile. “Well, come now, let’s not mind the little things. We’ll have to stop and go home before the sun sets if we don’t hurry.” “Was that a little thing?” She glared at him with a terrifying expression. It was a regular town. Trade didn’t particularly thrive here. Very few tourists came to sightsee. The population was neither too big nor too small. It wasn’t an especially safe or dangerous place. It had no specific stand-out characteristics, a place that could only be described with the adjective regular. That kind of town. And so the town was made with nothing but the pursuit of the residents’ comfort in mind. The small roads were paved with brick. Small staircases were buried between the gaps of buildings. Boggard children ran about in delight, waving their short sticks. Willem ended up carrying way more bags than he’d prepared himself for. They found a nice-looking park, so they decided to take a break. “Hey.” They sat together on a bench, leaning on the backrest. “Hmm?” “You really okay with this? You know you’re allowed to do what you want outside of the island now, right? You don’t have to just follow me and go shopping; you can do literally whatever—” “Okay, enough, no acting like you need me to spell everything out for you even when you know why!” She poked him hard. “It doesn’t matter if it’s on the island or outside. I just wanted to stay together with you.” Oh, right. He thought she would say something like that. “I mean, there are some places I want to visit, some things I want to see. But that doesn’t quite mesh well with the place that I want to be, so there’s not much I can do about it. Right?” Ugh. He couldn’t take this anymore. This pure girl, who grew up knowing nothing about male creatures, just happened to meet a man in a somewhat dramatic fashion. The feelings a girl would have in a situation like this were strong, simple, and terribly cruel. “What on earth is it that’s so good about me?” “Not telling.” She smiled impishly. There was a short, comfortable moment of silence. A small thought bubbled inside him, a feeling of wanting to stay this way forever. “They told me they were gonna put a faerie soldier on the ship to the surface,” he murmured quietly. “Mm.” “It would still be too much for Tiat, so we took her out of the options. We stressed over which of the other two we should send, but we decided on Nephren.” “Mm.” “And while I was at it, I negotiated directly with the guy and made him put in space for me.” “…Mm?” Chtholly’s head spun around to look at him. “Why, though?” “Unlike the thing at Island No. 15, it doesn’t sound like they’re putting up some kind of barrier that you can’t enter or leave or whatever. You can go if you want to. The first reason why is because I’m not gonna stay waiting for someone to come home again.” He folded his fingers as he counted his reasons. “There was the name of a sword I just couldn’t ignore on the list of treasures they found on land. If it’s the real thing, then I want to get it as soon as possible. That’s the second reason.” “A sword?” He ignored her question and gazed up at the sky. “You’ve been pushing yourself pretty hard recently.” “…What are you talking about?” “Don’t play dumb now. I can sort of tell by the way you’ve been acting recently. You’ve lost some of your memories, haven’t you? Or are you still in the middle of losing them now?” A waffle cart stopped on the road beside the park and opened for business. The sweet aroma wafted and filled the air around it. A child walking along the road began to beg for change from their parents beside them. The parents dealt with it coolly at first, but their attitudes changed slowly as the sweet scent tickled their noses. “It’s just before dinner. You shouldn’t make a habit of spending all your money on sweets. Oh well, I suppose it can be a treat just for today. Excuse me, can we have a hazelnut cream and berry medley waffle, please?” “How can you tell?” “I just told you; I can sort of tell by watching you.” There was something off about Chtholly’s behavior. It weighed on his mind, so he watched her. That was how he first took notice of some things. Some things he would never have noticed had he not watched her. “I see. You were worried about me.” “You thought I wasn’t?” “No, of course not.” She looked happy but troubled. “—Let me just say this now, but don’t get too excited about what I’m about to tell you. It’s really not much more than something that might be possible.” He gave his disclaimer. “But it’s the sword they found on the surface, the one I told you about. Its talent manifests as one that keeps its user’s body and mind in the best condition possible. At least, five hundred years ago, I saw with my own eyes as it canceled out attacks that make you act unhinged emotionally and destroy your memory. If we had that, it might solve your memory problem thing.” She blinked. “You…speak so calmly of reckless acts, don’t you?” “The trick to making recklessness into a reality is to put it into words.” “I’m not sure if that’s something you should be proud of.” She chuckled. They could hear the guy at the waffle stand yelling loud and clear, “Thanks a bunch!” “Okay, I won’t get too excited about it, then. But I can trust that you won’t give up on me, right?” “Yeah, sure.” “How long will it take, then?” “I dunno. Probably ten days, or maybe a little longer than that.” Chtholly stopped in her tracks. “…I’m going, too,” she murmured. “Huh?” “I just said, I’m going, too. I’m not gonna stay waiting for someone to come home again, either.” “What?” “It’s fine. I still remember who Nopht and Rhan are. I wasn’t too close with them, but I don’t think they’d say anything weird if I saw them.” “No, no, wait. They definitely won’t allow that. It’s not like they can add more seats to the airship’s capacity, and it’s not like they’d wanna take along someone without any skills as a touri—” He watched as Chtholly’s expression turned demonic. He realized he’d made a slip of the tongue. Willem recoiled slightly, overwhelmed. “Are you going to finish that sentence with the word tourist?” “—Nope. That’s not what I meant. You know, it’s dangerous on the surface, and it’s not really a place you can just waltz onto, and, uh…” He realized that he was now ready to put his foot in his mouth. “Oh? Does it look like I’m going to be waltzing anywhere?” Chtholly spoke slowly, her calm voice cutting deep. “No, wait, you know. Let’s cool off a bit and chat about it.” “I am furious. I am definitely going, too!” “Wait, wait, but they aren’t gonna let you go anyway!” If he had to give a conclusion, it was that they would let her go after all. After they went back the way they had come and talked to the first officer, he easily gave her permission to come along. He added Chtholly’s name at the bottom of the passenger list and handed her a simple form of identification. “—Don’t tell me you’re mad at me?” Chtholly asked hesitantly on the way back home. “You look really grumpy.” “Of course I do.” He gave a deep sigh. “You know why you got permission so easily, right?” “Because…the second officer introduced me?” “That’s just a prerequisite. That’s not enough to let a regular civilian without any proof of skill or without a background check go along on such an important mission.” Most of the islands of Regule Aire didn’t have anything like a census registration system. That was because in places like these, where many different races and individual values mingled together, there was a limit to how the residents could be managed by documents. According to the law on most islands, citizenship was purchased from the city in the form of tax. Although it was convenient for leading a daily life, it wasn’t compulsory. For instance, like Willem’s neighborhood on Island No. 28, there were some areas where most of the residents didn’t have citizenship—and consequently, it was a dangerous place. And so Chtholly, even after just losing her status as a faerie soldier, could still at least be considered a “civilian.” What came after that was the problem. “Usually, to tag along on military missions, you need skill that won’t hold the others back and the trust that you won’t do anything unnecessary. So there’s no such thing as being too cautious when it comes to taking along civilians.” “But I did get permission, didn’t I?” “Basically, that means there’ve been other officers in the past who’ve taken civilians along as secretaries. And they’ve all probably been the opposite sex of the same species.” “…Um?” He recalled the first officer’s nasty smile when he brought back Chtholly. “It means they brought their lovers along, justifying them as secretaries.” “Lovers…” Chtholly slowly repeated the word, as though it was in a foreign language she was hearing for the first time. “And it means he thought we were the same as those guys.” “…Oh… I see now.” Chtholly thought briefly. “I think that’s all right.” “No, it’s not.” “Then will you at least make me your wife?” “No, come on.” There came a distant chorus of Carillon bells. Willem stopped in his tracks, a sense of nostalgia overcoming him as he listened to the end of the chorus. The sun was setting. Evening was drawing near. “Well, I guess it’s not too bad. It’s not like we still need to keep up appearances, and I don’t want to be apart from you, either.” “Oh, it makes me so happy to hear that, but that’s not a proposal, is it?” “Of course not.” He looked at her with exasperation, as though wondering why she was asking that now. Chtholly smiled wryly in agreement. “Let’s go, then.” He looked away and walked off with a long stride. After a moment, Chtholly started rushing after him. “Hey, wait, wait! Slow down!” “Whoops, I totally forgot, but we might miss the ship to Island No. 53.” “…What?!” Island No. 68 was on the outer periphery of Regule Aire. There were no public commuter airships that went straight there, and in order to find a ferryman to get there, one had to first go to an island somewhat nearby. So Willem had a fair reason to pick up the pace like he did. It was not a way to hide his embarrassment at all. “We won’t make it home today at this rate. C’mon, hurry up.” “Wait, hold on—these bags are so heavy!” The two strolled casually and merrily through the townscape as it was slowly painted crimson. What am I? the girl thought. Ever so slowly, her memory was chipping away, her personality breaking to pieces. In the end, even now as she was cracking, would she still be called Chtholly? She could now remember only about half of her fellow faeries’ names at the warehouse. Even if she took the time to study and re-remember them, her memories of them would never come back. Whether it be when she was in her own room, or in the dining hall surrounded by her sisters, or helping Nygglatho, something felt off about the daily structure she should have established by now. Bubbling up from somewhere unknown was the baseless feeling that this was not where she belonged. She thought her own situation was painful. It was bitter, sad, and lonely. And she wanted to hold all these feelings dear to her. Because when those were gone, that would probably be when the girl who was once Chtholly Nota Seniorious would completely disappear. Chtholly told all the faeries in the warehouse that she would be taking the airship to the surface. “Miss Chtholly, are you leaving us again?” the green-haired girl asked in cheerless surprise. “Hmph.” The pink-haired girl looked away weakly. It seemed her cold still hadn’t gone away. “It’s not something to brood over. It’s not like she’s going away for an eternity,” the purple-haired girl said lightly. “Um… Please be careful. Please, please do be careful,” the peach-haired girl begged, tears brimming in her eyes. “We’ll have a welcome home party ready for you when you come back,” Nygglatho added with a smile—a slightly strained, forced smile. “Personally, I want to tell you not to do it.” Ithea looked like a mother who’d relented to her own child’s selfishness. “I’m sorry. But I really don’t want to wait.” “Oh well. There’s a bitter love monster stuffed inside your skull that’s crammed full of romantic feelings, I know. Pulling it away from its crush would only make it wither and crumble away, I know.” Chtholly frowned. She wasn’t that far gone, she wanted to protest. But she knew it didn’t sound very convincing, so she decided not to. It was an adult’s wise judgment not to do anything unnecessary. Probably. “I’d want to go with you if possible, but I guess I can’t. It’s not like I could do anything to help you if I came along anyway.” “It won’t really be anything you have to worry about. I’ll be sure to find you a souvenir from the surface,” she said and gave a thumbs-up. Ithea didn’t respond. She decided to leave Seniorious behind. She wouldn’t be able to use it even if they brought it along anyway. And…someone who was working hard for their own happiness was not qualified to touch that misery-obsessed thing, regardless of words like faerie or compatible wielder. “Good-bye, partner.” She stuck her tongue out at it. And those were her parting words. 6. Reunion She knocked on the door, but there was no answer. She turned the doorknob, and it wasn’t locked. “Hello…?” She pushed the door open. It was dark and empty. Oh, right— Tiat finally recalled. The owner of this room wasn’t in the faerie warehouse at the moment. She had boarded an airship headed for the surface to retrieve a couple of the other older faeries who were out on a long-term mission. It would still be a few days until she was back. “Um… I came to return the book I borrowed…” She hesitantly stepped into the empty room. She managed to muffle her own footsteps as she cut across the tidy chamber. She placed the book she held to her chest neatly on the desk. And then, she noticed something sitting on the corner of it. There was a large, stylish dark-blue hat and something else, something that glinted silver. “This is…” She recognized it. It was a silverwork brooch with a clear blue stone embedded in it. It looked really good on her senior faerie, and Tiat was often envious of that. She still remembered what the elder faerie had said to her. “Thanks. But I know one day soon, it’ll probably look really good on you, too. “When you get just a little bit older, I’ll give it to you.” She’d found herself flustered at the time, because that wasn’t why she felt envious. She hadn’t wanted the brooch itself; she just wanted to express how well such a grown-up accessory looked on her. But she was a little happy that she said that to her, just a little. …Maybe she forgot it? She could feel a bit of mischief bubbling inside her. She’d grown up a bit since then, hadn’t she? Maybe now she was enough of a woman for it to look good on her. She was just going to try it out. She gulped. Slowly, she reached for the brooch. Her fingertips brushed the silverwork. “…No, I can’t.” She pulled back. Even if it was just to try, she felt like if she touched it, she would end up losing something incredibly precious. Incidentally, the Plantaginesta was originally a large-scale transport ship. The philosophy behind its design was different from that of commuter airships, and it was built exactly so that it could carry more materials with greater reliability. To put it simply, not a single part of the ship was designed with a comfortable ride in mind. The entire vessel pitched and rolled. Strange pipes stuck out here and there in all the rooms and corridors, the smell of oil clung to the air, obscene graffiti had been scrawled on the walls, empty cans of meat paste lay scattered across the floor, and so on and so forth. Willem wouldn’t have thought anything of it if the environment was just plain old bad. But just by adding that sway unique to airships, it easily pushed the limits of his discomfort. Their estimated flight time was forty-two hours. It was a hellish forty-two hours. Ground level, K96—MAL Ruins. The location of the felled surface observation ship Saxifraga. “The whole world’s spinning…” With shaky steps, Willem stepped down onto the gray sand. The sole of his shoe sank about the thickness of his palm into the soft sand. The absent thought of just how bad this footing was crossed his mind. Merely walking on it would quickly drain his energy, and now there was the added danger of falling over if he ran or fought. He lifted his gaze slightly. Before him was a gray ruin. There was a row of strange-looking monuments, as though someone had poured a muddled gray dye over crumbling stone buildings. This was once a small town. It was at the edge of Empire territory, quite a ways away from the Imperial Capital. It hadn’t been particularly big or prosperous. It was not on any of the major trade routes, and it didn’t have any particular specialties it was famous for. It was a town that just quietly built its own history over centuries, one that was supposed to keep on building. He leaned over and grabbed a fistful of sand. The gray dust smoothly slipped from the gaps between his fingers. “It hasn’t really hit me like I thought it would.” Not a single emotion he’d steeled himself for made itself known. He couldn’t force himself to feel sadness or frustration now. It wasn’t like he didn’t feel it was real. Willem was oddly accepting of the fact that this was the fate of what was once the town of Gomag, his home. “…Are you okay?” “Yeah, nothing to worry about.” Nephren had appeared at his side at some point, and he answered her question and stood. “It doesn’t look like there’s nothing to worry about. You’re very pale.” “Probably just from motion sickness. I’m really not bothered by this at all.” “You’re really not bothered after coming here?” A blustery wind swayed the sleeves on Nephren’s protective sandstorm cloak. “That worries me more. Isn’t this your home?” “I’m fine, really. My birthplace is gone. My home now”—he pointed upward—“is in the sky. Right?” Nephren reached up with both arms. She grabbed on to Willem’s head and pulled his face closer to her own. She made him look deep into her eyes. “…You’re not acting?” “Of course not. Now lemme go; it’d be a pain if someone sees us.” “But I didn’t do anything embarrassing.” “It’s not what you think but what other people watching think.” “Reeee—” There came the scratching sound of running footsteps on sand. “—eeeeen!” It came from his blind spot. Accompanying the yell was a kick that flew straight at him, and it struck him right in his side. Thinking it would be the same as when Collon and Pannibal attacked him, he stayed in his spot and took the kick. That was a mistake. It was a much sharper and heavier attack than he imagined, and it threw his body off to the side. It was super painful. The boy…oh, no, girl who attacked him grabbed Nephren’s shoulders and shook her hard. Still lying on the sand, Willem raised just his head and watched them. “Hey, you okay? What’d that perv do to you?! He didn’t get what he wanted, did he?!” She had spiky vermilion hair, and her eyes were just a shade darker. Though he’d never seen this girl before, it matched the appearance he’d heard about beforehand. Nopht Keh Desperatio, designated compatible with dug weapon Desperatio. “No, Nopht.” Nephren seemed to be in slight pain as she wriggled. “He’s not a pervert who does stuff to children; he is someone who is a problem because he does nothing.” “Man, I had no idea you’d be the one coming to rescue us! Awww, you’re still soooo li’l!” She wasn’t listening. Squeeze. With the world’s biggest grin on her face, Nopht wrapped Nephren in a hug from head-on. “…It hasn’t been more than a month since you left the warehouse. I’m not going to grow that much in that short a time.” “Really? It feels like I haven’t see you in forever—” Suddenly, Nopht stopped. “…Hey, you went to that fight, too, didn’t you, Ren?” “Hmm?” “The one when the big Six attacked.” “Oh…” Nephren nodded, still in Nopht’s arms. “We went and fought.” “Then tell me, how valiant was Chtholly?” An odd expression crossed over Nephren’s face. “Um, very valiant, I suppose.” “Ah.” A sad smile spread across Nopht’s lips. “I don’t really know how to put it,” she began, “but I dunno. She wasn’t very nice, and I didn’t think we’d get along very well, and that still hasn’t changed. But after coming here, we got into a situation where we didn’t know if we’d get home alive. I regret it, just a little. I don’t care if we just hated each other. I don’t care if all we would’ve done was argue, but I wish we’d talked more.” Willem slowly sat up.