Chapter 19

This Present Radiance -my happiness- 1. The Suspicious Emnetwiht Nopht was giggling, ticklish throughout the entire procedure. “Eh-he-he-he-he-he-he-he-he-he-he.” Her arms and legs flailed about every which way, and it was a hassle keeping her still. Chtholly started to help partway through, and it would have taken even longer without her assistance. There was no doubt it wouldn’t have ended with just one bruise around his eye. On the other hand, Rhantolk was trouble in a different way. Whenever Willem put a finger to her back and applied pressure, the girl exhaled with an oddly alluring noise. She had an adult air about her that didn’t really match her age to begin with. Whenever he heard the voice, he felt like he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, and he lost his touch. It almost took twice as long to finish the treatment than he had originally estimated. During treatment, Chtholly’s pointed gaze into the back of his head hurt his heart considerably. When he asked, the faeries explained there were sporadic attacks from Beasts even after the Saxifraga fell. Though none of them was a major threat and all were easily disposed of, Willem knew there was a possibility, so he checked to find out that, just as he thought, both of them had minor venenum poisoning. Venenum conflicted with a person’s life force in the first place. Activating venenum was essentially causing one’s own life force to malfunction on purpose. And activating too much of it at once, or keeping it activated for long periods of time, or reactivating it over and over in a short period of time, could make the crippled condition easier to keep coming back again and again, and that made it even harder to fix. He had just now applied one of the ways of dealing with that on the two girls. First he stimulated the applicable points on the body, adjusted the blood flow, then forcibly relaxed the rigid muscles. In the old world, it was known as a practical battlefield medical technique. “Phew. How’s that? Feeling better?” Willem asked, tired after all that, and the two girls glanced at each other. “Uh… My body feels real light. It kinda feels wrong.” “I don’t think it’s easy to relax if we’re not still exhausted after a fierce battle.” The treatment itself produced the proper effect, but regardless, he was met with somewhat spiteful responses. The two girls had been acting like this ever since Willem introduced himself the day before. He somewhat understood how they felt. To them, the man who was Second Officer Willem Kmetsch was an unknown character who suddenly appeared before them and started acting like he owned them. Even though his identity was confirmed and both Chtholly and Nephren vouched for him, he hadn’t done anything to show he was trustworthy, nor had he taken any time to build up their trust. It was natural they would be cautious around him, and he understood that to an extent. He understood, but…he felt like that wasn’t the whole story. “But you’re an emnetwiht, right?” When he asked them directly, Rhantolk readily gave him the reason why they were cautious around him. “It would be sweet if you were just a role player, but Chtholly and Nephren vouched for the truth. That means you are the deadly race that broke the world. I don’t know if I can accept you so easily.” That made sense. Of course that was it. Even though none of the people he had revealed his own race to acted in that way, it was a second, careful thought that told him he had just been lucky. Her line of thinking was rather typical. “But it’s not like I did anything on my own…” “Now that you said that, if someone said you were suspicious, then that carefree posture, that lax attitude, would make you look even more suspicious. It’s like you’re trying to hide what you’re really thinking. You’re like a man who’s used to deceiving women… Though I know there’s no end to it once I start questioning you.” If you know, then stop questioning me. The world should be viewed through a simpler lens. But wait, what did she mean by “used to deceiving women”? That was a terrible misunderstanding. He wanted her to take that back. “I give you my thanks for saving Chtholly from her planned death. And judging by the quality of the skill you used to heal us, I know that your abilities themselves are worth praise. It must be true that you were a…Quasi Brave in the old world, a battle-capable individual. You, on your own, are much more specialized for battle than we are, who are born and die to fight. But that is not enough data to determine whether or not you are dangerous.” If she was willing to recognize his skills to that extent, then all he needed was just one more step. “Do you know how the emnetwiht spread the Seventeen Beasts throughout the world?” He’d heard a bit from the Great Sage. An anti-Imperial organization at the time, called True World, developed the Beasts; they were a kind of biological weapon. “A biological weapon?” Yeah. That’s what he’d heard. “Then there must have been a living creature that acted as an elemental base for it. Does that sound familiar?” No. He didn’t think it was that important. He thought they’d probably captured some new kind of monstrous being. “I see.” “I see”? Really? That’s it? “Yes.” …I see. “I don’t really hate people like you.” Nopht’s answer was an easy one. “You don’t act high and mighty at all. You look kind of poor, actually. If Ithea and Nephren trust you, then you’re probably not thinking about doing bad stuff. You actually look like you’re not thinking about anything.” He wasn’t sure if he should be happy or sad about that. “But, nah, not for me. I trust Rhan’s eyes the most. Sorry, but if she says she can’t trust you, then neither can I.” So that’s where it was going in the end. “You shouldn’t worry too much about it.” He must have looked pretty bummed about it because Nephren approached him. “Those two are always like that. They’re not usually the type to truly hate people, so I’m sure they’ll be nicer to you before long.” “Yeah… I guess so.” They didn’t seem like bad people. Rhantolk was just going through things in her own logical manner, and Nopht just trusted her and her process. He didn’t feel like he should hate them. “Thanks,” he said with gratitude, and Nephren tilted her head. “You’re always on my side, aren’t you? It’s a big help.” “Hmm… That’s not really the reason why,” she responded with her usual hard-to-read expression. “You just look like you might break if I leave you alone.” “…Do I really look that helpless?” he asked, a slightly hurt tone to his voice, but Nephren stayed silent and did not respond. It sounded like the reloading of artifacts was going smoothly. One crate after another was stuffed into the lowest part of the airship—the hold, which was filled with the pungent scent of metal and oil. Willem received permission from the operations manager and popped open one of the crates. He pulled out the inside article, wrapped tightly in a dirtied, tattered rag. “You better be careful there. If ya don’t watch out, you might find yourself with an emnetwiht curse!” an orc worker warned him with a charismatic smile. “Thanks for the consideration, but no worries here. I’m an emnetwiht.” “Ha-ha! Mate, stuff like that doesn’t embarrass you at your age?” With a laugh, the worker left. “…He probably thought I was having teenage delusions.” Whatever the truth was, the emnetwiht was a legendary race, the embodiment of evil. Anyone would normally think it an embarrassing fantasy if he suddenly announced himself to be one. He would have to be more careful in the future. He turned his attention back to the thing in the cloth, the large sword made up of tens of different pieces of metal, and lifted it to his eye level. There was no doubt about it—this was the pure-grade Carillon Lapidemsibilus. He didn’t know why they had excavated it here, of all places. Navrutri was from West Garmando, and he didn’t think very well of the Empire. Willem couldn’t think of a reason why Navrutri would come all the way to this remote part of the Empire after his fight with the Visitors and Poteau. “Eh, whatever.” Navrutri probably had some good reason. Willem wouldn’t think too hard on it. Right now, the question of how the sword itself was faring was much more important. He glanced over the veins of enchantment to see how they were doing. They were spectacularly tattered. It was practically unusable in this state, and he was unsure if he could repair it to its original state with his skills. He would have to take it apart and examine each piece carefully. “—Why are you here? What are you doing?” Nopht poked her head out from behind a crate. “If you wanna steal that stuff and sell it for profit, it has to pass through the Alliance anyway, so there’s no point, y’know.” “Huh, I’m kind of offended you’d treat me like some scoundrel.” He wagged his finger. “I’m a terrible, evil emnetwiht. If I’m gonna be plotting stuff, it’d be on an even bigger scale.” “For real?” “For real.” He cackled. Nopht seemed genuinely intrigued. “So…like what? Like crashing this airship or something like that?” “Nah, I’d die, too.” “But carrying out evil deeds without any care for your own safety does sound kind of cool.” “You’re too sentimental. True evil doesn’t need stale pride and stuff like that. Always be easy on yourself—and kind to nature while you’re at it. That’s the most important thing if you’re gonna call yourself evil.” “For real?” “For real.” He cackled. “Oh yeah, I remember now. I’m going to be adjusting this one, so I may as well do you guys’, too. Can I borrow ’em?” After this and that, Willem borrowed the girls’ swords. Then he found an empty storage room. Steel, copper, and tin sheets had been thrown together like a mosaic to create a makeshift wall. On it was hastily written, improper graffiti. There were small cracks here and there in the underbelly of the pipes that ran across the ceiling. There was only one clasp left on the grate over the air vent, and it seemed like just one good shake would make it fall. There were a number of tools, probably brought in when they were working on the Wessex Bordering, sitting by the wall. An indescribable, foul odor assaulted his senses the moment he stepped into the room. It wasn’t a very comfortable place. But at least here he wouldn’t have to worry about the wind and the sand, and more importantly, it was quiet. “I’m not really in the position to ask for a nice room anyway.” He untied the string that kept the two swords on his back and placed them by the wall. He picked one of the two back up, sat on the floor, and slowly began to loosen the venenum that ran throughout the blade. “—Initialize adjustment.” About half of the thirty-eight metallic fragments drifted through the air one at a time, finding their own spots and stopping in place. Unlike the other time when he fixed Seniorious, this room wasn’t very spacious. It would be difficult to take this sword apart completely to adjust it. He figured he would do a proper adjustment after they got back to the faerie warehouse, and for now he would just go with a simple inspection and repair. Luckily, there was no one else here, and if he could immerse himself in his work, then it would be over fairly qui— “Oh, there you are.” Chtholly poked her head out from the other side of the door. She wore roughly hewn working clothes. Her hair was tied back so it wouldn’t get in the way. Ever since they’d boarded the airship, Chtholly had made herself known in different parts of the ship and continued diligently helping with little jobs here and there. She was, after all, assistant to the enchantments officer, who really didn’t have any work. There were no tasks they had to attend to in the first place, so if she wanted to be of use to someone, then she had to find work herself. “Sheesh, you can’t just disappear on me like that. I’m your secretary! I have to at least know where my presiding officer is at all times.” “…Uh, well…” It was so sudden, his working hand stopped in surprise. “Your ‘secretary’ position is nothing but a title; you know you don’t actually have to do any work, right?” “It’s not very convincing at all when you say it.” He had nothing to say in return. Why did she want to work so badly? “If I don’t do anything, then you’d actually become someone who abused his power to bring his useless lover onto a battlefield. And you know, I don’t like the sound of that.” “’S not something you need to worry about.” “But I do worry about it.” She puffed out her cheeks like a child. “Hey, can I watch you?” “I don’t mind, but it smells bad in here.” “That’s fine. There are plenty of other rooms that smell much worse on this airship.” Nothing seemed fine about it at all. The thought crossed his mind, but if that made her feel better, then he wouldn’t bother raising a fuss. He casually waved her in and took in his audience. “Is that Nopht’s sword?” “Yeah.” With the tip of his finger, he gently tapped one of the metallic fragments—a talisman. The piece slid through the air, and once it reached the place where it belonged, it froze. There was a clear metallic sound, like a metallophone. Chtholly lowered herself onto a nearby toolbox. “It is beautiful, but it’s not very romantic in here.” “Way better than a sandstorm, though. Just bear it for now.” “I guess so.” A question suddenly crossed Willem’s mind. “You still remember the night I adjusted Seniorious?” “Yes, I do.” Chtholly nodded. “I’m taking care not to activate any venenum, so it doesn’t really feel like my memories are chipping away right now. It might just be that I don’t realize it, but at the moment, it doesn’t feel like an inconvenience. I still remember Nephren, and Nopht, and Rhantolk, and…Ithea. I’m not very confident when it comes down to details, though.” “Uh…huh.” She hadn’t mentioned Willem Kmetsch’s name just now because she probably didn’t need to reconfirm who he was. She probably hadn’t forgotten him. Otherwise she wouldn’t be here, talking like she was now. The talismans quietly sang their terrible song. They wordlessly spent a few moments like this. “…Hmm?” An odd feeling overcame him. “What’s wrong?” “It’s not broken.” “Of course not. If it was, then Nopht would be having a hard time right now.” “No, that’s not what I mean. What I mean is…” How should he explain this? He spent a whole two seconds thinking. “One of the elements that shows a Carillon’s abilities is something called its slayer level. It’s a thing that establishes what kind of enemy the sword is especially effective against.” “O-okay.” Chtholly seemed briefly perplexed by the sudden onslaught of jargon, but she was going along with it anyway. “As it keeps cutting down enemies of a certain type, it develops a peculiarity or a murderous specialty that starts sticking to the blade. You ever heard of the Dragonslayer? Titles like that are given to swords whose slayer levels have tipped far in one direction.” “O-okay…” It probably didn’t make much sense to her, since all they did was use their swords against the Beasts. It’s not like she’d ever seen a dragon anyway. He kept going. “This sword is the Kinslayer.” “…The what?” “Its specialty is killing kin. This sword exists only for emnetwiht to kill emnetwiht, and it’s not really used for anything outside of that.” “Wait, that’s weird. Nopht uses that sword to fight against the Beasts.” “Exactly, it’s weird. That’s why I thought that maybe its functions associated with its specialty were broken or something.” Upon checking, he found that the sword Desperatio was worn out as a whole and its functional efficiency was low, but the functions themselves were operating normally, almost to the point where it was hard to believe that its last maintenance was over five hundred years ago. The spinal root was healthy, and the veins of enchantment still had some strength in them. “Well, today I’m just doing some emergency repairs. We can save mystery solving for another da—” “Then there must have been a living creature that acted as an elemental base for it. Does that sound familiar?” Chtholly looked at him in doubt again when he suddenly fell silent. “…Now what?” “Nothing.” He shook his head. An awful supposition sat square in the middle of his mind and wouldn’t move. He was thinking too much. He would convince himself he was. Sure, if he thought of it that way, then it would solve many mysteries at once—the reason why the Seventeen Beasts destroyed the world with such frightening speed. According to the history books, two entire countries disappeared from the map in just a few days. By the beginning of the following week, five countries, four islands, and two oceans disappeared. And by the beginning of the week after that, maps themselves had become pointless— “……” No. That couldn’t be it. Of course it couldn’t. If that was the truth, then it was impossible that Great Sage Suowong hadn’t realized it. And if he was aware of it, then why didn’t he tell him…? “If you wish to say something, then you must tell him everything. The man’s attitude may change if you expose one or two secrets of the surface that you’ve kept hidden.” There was a reason why. What kept him quiet, what kept him from saying anything was none other than Willem himself. Willem had turned him down, saying that he didn’t care about the things he’d already lost, that the only things he was focusing on were the things within his reach. At the time, he didn’t think his own attitude was appropriate. But he didn’t regret it, even without using the word appropriate to quantify his behavior. And what it was that he could hold in his arms now— “Hey, what is going on?” It was her third time asking. Willem stood without a word and walked over to where Chtholly sat. “Wah—” And he pulled her into a tight hug. “…Seriously, what is going on?” Chtholly reached out to pat Willem a few times on the back, as though soothing him. “Aren’t you surprised?” “I’m super surprised.” “Aren’t you flustered?” “I am flustered, actually. My heart is pounding. I don’t know what happened, but I know it’s unusual for you to show me weakness, especially since you’re usually putting on a face. My feelings of happiness and how much I want you to feel better are both so much greater than my surprise or fluster.” “…You…” “Right now, you look like you’ll vanish if I leave you alone. It’s really embarrassing, but I can’t just ignore it.” He tightened his hold around her. “H-hey, that’s too much…” “You’re a good woman.” “…Sorry, I couldn’t hear you very well. Could you say that again but louder this time?” “It’s nothing.” “Ugh, hey, you sore loser! Say it again! Just say it again for me!” “Marry me.” “Nooo— Oh, wait, um, what?” This time, Chtholly squirmed about, flustered in his arms. There was no way he would let her get away, so he tightened his hold on her even more. “Rather…he seems like stubbornness incarnate. He holds only one purpose within him. He sees no value in anything that has nothing to do with that goal. So he will not bend. He will not stop. He will persist.” He finally found it. He was once a shadow of a Brave who failed in protecting what he should have kept safe, who never returned to the home he should have gone back to. But he met Chtholly, came to the faerie warehouse, and discovered a new way of life. He finally had something he wanted to protect. He finally found a home he could return to. He finally felt like it was okay for him to keep living, that he was worth it and qualified to keep on living. And so— “I wanted to make Chtholly happy.” —He was going to make Chtholly happy. He clung to that wish. He wanted to forget about the past. He wanted to keep on thinking of nothing but the present and the future. “Ahhhh…” He realized the girl in his arms had, at some point, stopped struggling, so he checked on her. Maybe she couldn’t breathe anymore, or maybe she’d passed the limits of her own shock, or maybe it was both—but either way, Chtholly sat there in a daze. 2. The Smiling Princess in the Icicle Coffin That was probably a dream. That was the first thing Chtholly thought when she woke up. It wasn’t entirely impossible. The punch line was a proposal, after all. Those weren’t the kind of words that would come out of Willem, even if she shook him upside down. It wasn’t very realistic. But…when she asked Nopht and Rhantolk about what happened yesterday, they said, “That officer guy asked me to let him borrow my sword” and “He came back in such a good mood that it seemed creepy.” Their answers made it seem like her dreams and reality were getting mixed up. What was up with that? “What is it about the emnetwiht?” When Rhantolk asked her, Chtholly responded extremely naturally, “I-i-i-it’s nothing; don’t worry about it.” There was no way she was going to open discussion with, “I think he proposed to me, but it might’ve been a dream.” Even if she did, all she would get was Rhantolk’s cool gaze and a burst of laughter from Nopht. Maybe the best choice in this situation was to ask the man himself. “—Hey, did you propose to me yesterday?” Nope, impossible. It was absolutely impossible. Especially since she was aware now that her memory was vanishing, it seemed kind of…tacky. “What do you think it means to be happy?” Instead, she took the question that came to her mind and tossed it Rhantolk’s way. “—That’s a rather philosophical thing for you to ask. Are you starting a religion or something?” “No, it’s just a more personal thought of mine.” “I see.” Rhantolk closed the book she was just about to read, and a pensive look crossed her face. “First of all, happiness is different for everyone. There are people who are happy from simply eating. There are people who are happy just reading books. There are people who place great importance on living to the fullest. There are people who only feel fulfilled when they accomplish something. There are people who are happy when others are happy, and there are those who are the opposite, when they’re a nuisance to others.” “…Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” There were many different kinds of people. There were many different kinds of hearts. There were many different kinds of desires. So that meant the number of forms happiness could take matched all those variables. Logically, that was a given. “But most people aren’t self-aware. They don’t know what it is that is connected to their own happiness. Yet they all say they want to be happy. They don’t even try to learn what exactly those words mean.” “Aha!” A smile spread across her face. “That strikes home. I certainly am guilty of that.” “People like that may be able to realize happiness, but that doesn’t mean they can become happy. The most important thing is to not look away from your own heart. Does that answer your question?” “Yes.” Honestly, she hadn’t expected such a detailed response, so she was taken slightly aback, but of course she couldn’t say that. So she finished with an honest, “Thank you.” She went to the mess hall to have breakfast. By Willem’s request, faeries Rhantolk and Nopht were now allowed to use the mess hall. She invited Rhantolk to come along, but she refused, saying, “I’m not very comfortable in places with people I don’t know.” Dragging along someone shy wasn’t going to get either of them anywhere. And so, Chtholly went alone. Now then. She once again started thinking of what happiness was to her. She slapped a sweet-boiled lemon peel onto her toast. She stuffed it in her mouth. A titillating sweetness and acidity spread throughout her mouth. She was happy. But this happiness probably wasn’t it. It was a faerie’s state of being not to have any ambition-like ambitions or, rather, to not even think of having them. That was because faeries had no time. It would bring only sadness to dream of the future with a life that might not even still be around the next day. And that kind of situation still held true for her, even though she was no longer a faerie. But Willem would never allow her to give up. He would tell her that even with a life that wasn’t guaranteed the next day, she should hold her head high and head full speed for the day that came after. That was incredibly difficult and cruel, but she had started to like that part of him. She probably couldn’t escape it anymore. Thorny pills. A gecko with lovely round eyes. Soaking wet baked goods. An incoherent string of images flashed in her mind. It seemed her encroachment was advancing steadily, albeit slowly. She should probably end up feeling pathetic in this kind of situation, which was reminding her she had no future, but she was used to it already, and she did not even waver. She waved her hand to chase out the interruption in her mind and started thinking again. She could think of only one thing. And that keyword was marriage. Her old favorite book said it was synonymous with a woman’s happiness. She didn’t personally know any married women, so it didn’t quite strike any chords with her, but for now, she would believe that it was and start her fantasy. She remembered what Nygglatho said to her the other day. Marriage would make Willem family, or something, and keep him in the faerie warehouse forever. She started daydreaming. The setting was ten years from now. The stage was… Well, the faerie warehouse as it was now was fine. There was Willem, who was a little older… It was hard to imagine him like that, but giving him a beard and stuff was probably good enough. She placed herself, now more grown-up, right by his side. The two of them had children of an unknown race. Two boys and a girl. One of the boys looked like her, and the other two looked like Willem. The three were energetic and mischievous—they would run off and fall over and get all covered in mud the second she looked away, and she would chase them and catch them and throw them in the bath, then Willem would lazily remark, “It’s great they’re so energetic,” as he baked his cake— (…I can’t remember very well, but I think that’s exactly how it is right now.) She cut off her daydream. Somehow, that wasn’t it. That certainly was a very happy life, but if someone asked her if that made her much happier than she was now, she would find herself tilting her head in thought. A redheaded child clutching her stomach, rolling about in laughter. Her past life was so loud. Now was not the time for her to be paying attention to it, so she begged it to shut up. “Why are you making such funny faces while eating toast?” She suddenly noticed that, at some point, Nephren had come to sit next to her. “You’ve been so weirdly bubbly this whole morning. But I mean, you’re always weird.” Gulp. The toast caught in her throat. Milk—where was the milk? “Did Willem say something to you?” Hrgh. The milk entered her windpipe. “…I knew it. I was right.” She coughed, choked, and swallowed it. She started to calm down a little. “Wh-what made you think that?” “It’s obvious.” Nephren’s answer was simple, and Chtholly found herself speechless. “But that’s why I’m worried,” she continued, ripping her bread into smaller pieces. “About what?” “The both of you lately have this look in your eyes like cats that’ve lost their homes.” …Oh. “It doesn’t look like you want to talk about it, so I won’t ask. But something’s been happening since your hair started changing color, hasn’t it?” Well… “Um… I guess.” “You can always talk to me if you want. I can’t do much but stay by your side, but…at least I can do that much—” Nephren cut herself off, finishing with a sentence that didn’t quite make sense. “Okay… Thank you.” Ithea, Nephren… How did she come to be surrounded by such wonderful people? For a moment, she forgot about her situation and felt happiness. That was probably a dream. That was the first thing Willem thought when he woke up. It wasn’t entirely impossible. The punch line was a proposal, after all. Those weren’t the kind of words that would come out of himself, even if he was dangled upside down. It wasn’t very realistic. “…No, it’s definitely impossible.” He had to face reality. He had definitely embraced Chtholly and said some stupid stuff to her yesterday. He knew why he did it. It was because he never wanted to let her go. No, that wasn’t it. It was because he wanted to stay with her forever. No, that wasn’t it, either. It was because he was going to make her happy for the rest of their lives. …He should stop. The more he thought about it, the more his thoughts rolled in absurd directions. He took his thoughts a step back. Desperatio, the emnetwiht-killing sword. The monstrous beings that acted as ingredients for the weapons that were the Seventeen Beasts. If he put those two things together, the answer was simple. Whether or not she knew about Desperatio’s specifications or not, that faerie Rhantolk had also arrived at the same conclusion. That was why she was so hostile to him, since he was an emnetwiht. So in essence, the conjecture was that the Seventeen Beasts were emnetwiht themselves, modified in some manner. He felt nothing. He didn’t want to think about it. If that was the truth, then that would greatly change the meaning of “the emnetwiht destroyed the land.” They didn’t just create the cause of destruction. They were the cause of destruction itself, and even more so the very symbol of walking destruction. “Nah, it can’t be.” There was a big, gaping hole in that explanation. The Beasts’ growth rate talked about in the tale was much too fast to be rationally possible. This should go without saying, but in order to completely rearrange one living thing into a different creature, it would take a considerable amount of work and time on top of mythic skill and technique. Vampires were legendary monstrosities that had a soul-infecting talent, and even that required three days at the least for their victims to transform into vampires. He’d heard the Seventeen Beasts, on the other hand, completely wiped out a number of countries mere days after they appeared. They were incomparable. “I’m definitely thinking too much,” he concluded and nodded to himself. Now he had one less thing to think about. Now what was left was the result of him proposing to Chtholly. “……” Yup. He wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye for a while. “We made the research adviser mad,” the first officer muttered, his shoulders drooping, the expression on his face like a child scolded for his mischief. “Ah, I see.” Willem gave a vague response, not really sure what the context was. “You brought along an adviser, of all things? Haven’t seen ’im round.” “Well, it’s a civilian salvager the Alliance hired and the research team brought along. He apparently has plenty of experience, so they wanted to take his opinions into the highest possible consideration.” “Huh. What happened?” “Well, you’ve heard we won’t be taking off for another five days, haven’t you?” “I guess.” For Willem, who was not interested in the adventure and allure of the surface at all, there was no reason for him to want to stay in this place for an extended period of time. He would want to immediately fly away if that were possible, but he knew things weren’t that simple. They had to check on the health of the research team members, reload all the excavated articles into the ship’s hold, and collect necessary tools and machinery from the Saxifraga, which would be left behind—there were many things they had to do, apparently. “We also have to think about our budget, so we can’t extend our stay any longer than that. But just bringing back the artifacts we’ve collected so far would put us in the red.” “Well, sure.” “And so tomorrow, we’ve decided to send out an additional, larger excavation team underground.” The gremian first officer raised a purple finger, flaring his nostrils as though proud of his great idea. “The members will be mostly made up of Guard members, since we want the results to go to the Guard. We will have the Alliance take care of miscellaneous duties here on the surface. It’s up to you if you want to come along. How about it?” “No, thanks. I see, and that’s what made the adviser guy mad?” A veteran hired by the Alliance would certainly not be happy to hear that they were pettily trying to earn achievement points by carrying out such extravagant feats with a group made up entirely of Guard members. “No, that’s not it.” With his raised finger, he scratched his bald, purple head. “He told us not to send so many people underground at once. That it’s against general surface activity theory.” “…So why is that?” “I don’t know. I asked for his reasoning, but he didn’t give any. It’s more than likely a myth of sorts. Not everyone is logical and thinks about things like we do. Those sad people who believe in unreasonable conventions as absolutes because of their narrow world view will always be around, no matter the time and place.” “Ohhh. So is that what you told that adviser, imprudent First Officer?” “It is.” The truly imprudent first officer dropped his shoulders in disappointment. “I had no intentions of misstating things. But I did not hope to dismiss his experiences and beliefs, either. Do you think I could ask you to follow up on his feelings?” “I don’t mind,” Willem said as he thought, What a pain. “Things that one person will think are right will always be huge mistakes to a different someone with a differing background. If you ever feel like you’ve failed, remember that.” “…I understand.” The gremian nodded bitterly. When Willem asked the workers walking down the corridor where he might find that adviser guy, they told him he was headed toward the research equipment vault in the hold. Equipment vault? That was near the bottom of the ship, a confusing place that was hard to walk around in. Why would he be there? He really thought it a pain in his neck, but he wouldn’t ignore it. He pulled open a heavy trapdoor, climbed down a rusted ladder, weaved through rooms filled with nondescript metal items scattered about, and headed for the lowest part of the ship. They said the adviser was a civilian salvager hired by the Alliance. He tried to imagine what kind of person that would be, but all he could think of after hearing it was a “salvager with lots of experience” was Glick and company. They were, after all, a remarkable bunch who excavated one of the extinct emnetwiht—and even got him revived. “Is the research adviser here?” He came to the equipment vault. He pushed open the semi-airtight door and began searching for someone who might fit the description. And there was Glick, clad in heavy gear meant for venturing on the surface. “…What?” “…Huh?” The two men stood staring at each other, an indescribable air enveloping them. “What we call our theories come from an accumulation of all our rules of thumb.” Glick muttered his grievances, his bad mood apparent. “Like, we know how easily it can get mixed up with superstition. There are definitely some theories that I’m unsure of myself. Like, they say flatten your ears if the sounds of water stop underground, and I get it if you’re, like, an ailuanthrope or something, but what should races like us do?” Maybe they should just be happy they’re at least not being told to “curl your tails.” “By ‘rules of thumb,’ do you mean big groups that go under never come back?” “It’s not always. There’s a clear drop-off in survival rates when groups get to about seven people. That’s why civilian salvagers don’t really do work in big groups.” That made sense. He didn’t manage to ask how many people that simple first officer was planning to send down, but he probably wouldn’t cut people from the group. “I see. Now I know why you’re mad.” Willem nodded. “Next question: What’s this?” “Dust-proof cloak, muffler, and goggles.” “Why’re you giving them to me?” “The sandstorm’s pretty bad today. You’re screwed if you go out without preparing.” “But why are we going out?” “Today’s the only day we can go underground.” How did that make sense? “Since you’re here anyway, there’s a treasure I wanna show you. Can’t bring it up to the surface, though, so we’ll have to go down to where it is.” “Why are you making me do this?” “Just come with. I never thought I’d come down here to the land to run into you, y’know. The Visitors’re blessing us. We’ll be punished if we don’t take this opportunity.” How did that make sense? “—Oh, hey, perfect timing. You wanna come along, missy?” Glick looked up and called out to someone behind Willem. Thinking Nopht or someone had come by, Willem turned around to see none other than Chtholly’s back as she was trying to slip away undetected. Chtholly turned around slowly, her expression suggesting she didn’t know what to do. (…Ah, shit.) Willem again recalled what happened last night, and his own expression became vague, his eyes darting around, unsure where to look. But Glick remained blissfully unaware of the tension between them. “You’re a secretary, right? So Willem’s support is part of your job. Three’s the perfect number for going underground. We get less blind spots, and the other two can cover for any blunders the third makes. We could also leave someone on the surface for backup.” He cheerfully pulled out another set of dust-proof cloak, muffler, and goggles. It seemed there was quite the crustal deformation in the past five hundred years. The research team had apparently found this underground structure on the first day, and its present condition was vastly different from the way it used to be. The walls and ceilings had caved in, unable to withstand the twisting ground around them, and the original hallways had been sealed up only to create new ones. There were gaps here and there in the outer wall, and the soil and water made the pathways even more difficult to navigate. They followed the paths down, relying on the faint light the small illumination crystal produced. As Willem watched Glick proceed without hesitation through the interweaving paths ahead of him, he sensed his genuine dignity as a seasoned salvager. His breath came out in white clouds. The air was as frigid as that of an ice room. With every level they went down, the temperature dropped, too. They came to the fourth level belowground. Water dripping in from a nearby water vein pooled on the floor and froze on the spot. They had to be even more careful when they walked so they didn’t slip. “As you can tell by what you’ve already seen, most of the stuff on the surface has basically been weathered away, so it’s not really good for treasure hunting. But here, underground, lots of stuff is still the way it used to be. The real salvaging happens once we dive in.” Willem paid no attention to Glick’s commentary. “This thing has at least four floors, and every floor is huge. Never thought this mazelike thing would be around my hometown.” He felt strange. Maybe it had been here ever since he lived in the orphanage. Or maybe it was built after he left to become a Quasi Brave. Though now, five hundred years after the fact, there was no way to check. “You all right back there?” “Yeah, I’m fine.” When he turned to see how Chtholly was doing, she didn’t seem to be having any particular trouble, even with the uneven footing in the dark. She was, after all, the girl recognized by Seniorious. “—Oh yeah, the girls.” “Hmm?” “It was just like you told me—they’re good kids.” “Yeah.” Nopht and Rhantolk—Willem still didn’t know them very well, but if Glick said so, and he’d been fraternizing with them for a while now, then it was probably true. Willem somehow felt like Glick had gotten ahead of him, and he felt a bit salty. “I’m not giving ’em to you.” “Hey, c’mon, where did that come from?” They cackled together. “If they want, then you’re gonna have to go through me first.” “Seriously, where did that come from? And you really need to cut it out with that serious look on your face. It’s creeping me out.” “What on earth are you two talking about?” Chtholly smiled slightly, exasperated. A puff of white breath floated in the cool air of the underground and vanished. “—Wait, hold on. The way’s blocked.” Willem saw the back of Glick’s head stop moving in the small field of vision provided by the lighting crystal. He narrowed his eyes and peered at the path ahead of them. He could see a small pile of debris of all shapes and sizes. Even if they wanted to break it to keep going, putting any unnecessary pressure on it might cause the ceiling to collapse. “Damn. I guess we came all this way just to head back.” “There were plenty of side routes on the way here, though, right? Can’t we go around?” “The paths are too mixed up. It would take too much time to study each and every one. And there’s also a Timere nest around here; I don’t wanna just walk aimlessly and irritate them.” “I guess so.” Willem thought for a moment. “A what nest?” “Timere, Beast Number Six.” Glick spoke lightly. “About ten of ’em get together and build their nests in the ground. They usually just sleep like regular plants when they’re in their nests, but that’s why if you wander nearby unguarded, they’ll wake up and attack you, even if that’s only in really rare cases.” Number Six, Timere—the only Beast that could get to Regule Aire by drifting in the air. The very reason why the disposable weapons that were the faeries existed. —Why don’t we just burn ’em all now? The question almost made its way out of Willem’s mouth, but he quickly swallowed it. They had to drag out Carillons against them because they weren’t enemies that could be dealt with by such simple methods. Then should they make Nephren and the others attack now, while they knew their chances of a sneak attack were almost guaranteed? No, they couldn’t. It was out of the question. They were in an enclosed space, where they would have to completely abandon their advantage of having wings. Tens of Beasts had even more duplication power, making for a depressing difference in number. When faced with these realities, it wasn’t actually that advantageous to surprise attack them. The one good point was the enclosed space and high density of enemies meant favorable conditions for the “self-destruct” that was the faeries’ final attack. He didn’t want to think about actually executing it, though. “…Er, do you mind?” Willem heard Chtholly’s voice and snapped back to reality. “I don’t really know how to explain my reasoning, but…can we go in through this path?” Since they wouldn’t have accomplished anything if they turned back now, they decided to give the path a go. They traversed along the twisting, winding path for what seemed like forever. Whenever there was a fork in the road, Chtholly would stop, strain her ears, then pick one of the paths without a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels like someone’s calling me.” That was how she expressed it. It wasn’t entirely reliable as a compass for people trying to push their way deep into a natural labyrinth. But since they didn’t have anything else to guide them at the moment, there was really no reason for them to stop her. It was almost impossible to tell how long they had been walking. They arrived at a room, and their vision opened up before them. “…For real?” Glick murmured in admiration. “We made it. This is what I wanted to show you.” “Huh?” Willem spun around, looking at his surroundings. “There’s nothing here, man. What did you want to show me?” “It’s in front of you.” Despite what he said, the only thing in front of them was a wall. No, wait. On closer inspection, it wasn’t a wall but a giant block of ice. “Almost the entire room was encased in ice at first, but I’ve managed to work my way this far.” Glick lightly tapped the block of ice with his knuckle. There was something in the ice. Willem raised the illumination crystal up to it. He could see a brilliant crimson color inside the unnaturally transparent ice. He gulped. “…This is…” “Surprised, eh? I was, too. Never thought I’d find treasure like this twice in my short life.” It was a young child—young even when compared to the little ones at the faerie warehouse. Her hair was a long crimson, frozen in place as though it had been fluttering gently in the wind. It was hard to see her expression, but she looked to be resting peacefully. And in her chest… …was a gaping sword wound. She looked alive. She looked like she was just in a serene slumber. But there was no mistaking that this was a corpse. “She’s not…an acquaintance from long ago or anything, is she?” “Uhhh…” He checked her face again. “I don’t think so.” “Okay. It was a lot like the time when I found you, so I just thought, maybe, you know?” Right. This situation wasn’t the first time for Glick. Willem was once hidden away so elaborately—petrified, sunk in water, then encased in ice. It was Glick and his other salvager buddies who’d picked him up and revived him. “Could you save her like you did me?” “I don’t think that’s possible.” Glick shook his head slightly. “In your case, you were petrified because of a curse, so we could save you because you weren’t totally dead yet. No matter how you look at it, this kid’s just plain old dead.” That was true. There wasn’t a single emnetwiht who could live with a heart cut in two. “Just hold on a second.” Willem activated a slight bit of venenum and gave his eyes Sight. “…Yeah, I thought so.” “Hmm?” “There’s some kind of curse on the wound.” He gazed steadily at it, enduring the throbbing pain in his head. He could clearly see a strong curse deeply carved into the small body. “Seriously?” “Seriously. It doesn’t seem like something that’ll bring her back to life if we lift it, though.” The world contained curses meant to be cast on dead bodies. Those were the kind that made corpses move to put them to work, or only made the mouth move to spew wisdom, or to create ties with its blood relatives to infect them with the curse—things like that. And of course, by lifting them, the cursed corpses would just become uncursed corpses. They wouldn’t be brought back to life. “…Hmm?” That aside, he thought he’d seen this curse somewhere before. He looked closer. This was probably a kind of orthodox transmutation curse—the kind that turned people into frogs or a delicious meal into stone. Something about how the power entwined and twisted with things—stuff like that. But he couldn’t remember where he’d seen it before. Either way, his pounding headache was preventing him from making a coherent thought. He stopped the Sight. His headache wasn’t going away anytime soon. “I wanted to put her to rest in a brighter place, instead of letting her sleep in this creepy hole… But I guess if she’s cursed, then should we lift that first?” Glick was mumbling about something. “What, you’re not gonna sell it off as a treasure to some creepy collector?” “I’m not really into that kind of stuff. She seems so comfortable resting now, so I just want to do the compassionate thing and let her rest.” Somehow, when Glick said compassionate, that convinced him. Willem turned back to the girl. “Well, whatever we decide to do, we’ve got to get her out of this ice first. This kinda curse keeps the victim semi-permanently fixed. So she probably won’t rot or get eaten even if we take her out of the—” First, a shiver ran down his spine. “—Huh?” A moment afterward, a baseless sense of fear bubbled up from deep inside his gut. As though he was being propelled into action, he looked for the source. He whirled around. He found it immediately. Chtholly stood there in astonishment, gazing at the girl in the ice. He could see the storm of venenum quietly overflowing throughout her whole body. “Wha…?” Her hair began to change color before his very eyes. From blue to red—Chtholly Nota Seniorious was vanishing. “What the hell?! What are you doing?!” He gripped her shoulders and shook her. He smacked her cheeks several times. But the kindled venenum did not subside. Her gaze was not fixed on any particular thing, and it was hard to tell if she was even conscious. Willem understood that if he didn’t do something now, it would already be too late. He made his palm in the shape of a wedge, and pierced the spot beside Chtholly’s heart as hard as he could. An expression of agony briefly crossed the girl’s face. Her blood flow was agitated, her lungs crushed, her activated venenum forcefully scattered, and her fuzzy consciousness forcibly shut off. “Sorry, talk later! We have to go back up, now!” “O-okay.” Though Glick sounded hesitant, he must have seen how the situation had changed. Glick nodded obediently and immediately led them back on the path they had come from. 3. The Tattered, Antiquated Clock The next day. Just as announced, the first officer went underground with a big group of thirteen Guardsmen in tow. The ones left behind were now forced to continue with their original loading work, even without the manpower of thirteen people. They returned much earlier than sunset. “See, not a single lick of danger down there!” the first officer boasted. Either the thirteen he’d brought along were exceptionally skilled, or they brought results back that warranted such boasting. By the way, let’s talk a little bit about Beast Number Six, the Deeply Buried Timere. They are typically amorphous. They also grow and divide quickly. Though the chances of it happening are extremely rare, they are the only Beast that can be encountered in the sky. When they’re not in the sky, the creatures make nests underground. They find caves that are relatively spacious and damp, attach themselves firmly to the walls and ceilings, and slowly increase their numbers. As for how terrifying Sixes’ nests seem, they’re sometimes not actually all that dangerous. There are more than a few stories of salvagers getting lost smack in the middle of their nests only to return home unharmed. Nesting Sixes don’t respond to only one or two intruders. They stay dormant, almost as though they’re still asleep. It is unknown what causes them to come alive. There are actually some people who think that’s impossible. They think Sixes are completely irrational, running about causing havoc without any regard for the races of Regule Aire, spreading tragedy wherever they want. There is no point in thinking why or when they are awake or asleep, since that is their nature. But in reality, that train of thought is wrong. Though it isn’t for certain, there are several conditions that act as keys to undoing their slumber. For example, if a whole group of living creatures gets close enough. Then, when one or more conditions are met, several nesting Sixes will slowly wake from their sleep and begin to act, looking for living victims. A small hole popped open on the sandy surface as the unrelenting wind washed over it. And then, another one. And after that, another one. And another one, and another one, and another one. And another one, and another one, and another one. And another one, and another one, and another one. And another one, and another one, and another one. And another one, and another one, and another one. And another one, and another one, and another one. And another one, and another one, and another one. And another one, and another one, and another one. It was like a spring of water. Slowly, a liquefied substance oozed out from each hole. They said that in the ancient language of the emnetwiht, timere meant “a fearful or anxious heart.” The concept was that it bubbled up from everywhere; grew unnoticed; and, before one was aware, gnawed at the heart, crushed it, and devoured everything. There was no way to know now why one of the Seventeen Beasts came to be crowned with that word. It might have been that the old scholars gave it the name on their gut feeling without really thinking about it. But regardless of the particulars, there they were, the very embodiment of that feeling. A countless number of Beast Number Sixes, Timere, rose from beneath the sand. As it so happens, there was a tattered, old, anachronistic clock hanging on the wall of the ship’s hold. Its frame was warped from the humidity, and the wires on its hands were twisted. It was a staunch thing, said to have already been worn down even when the oldest serving crew members first came on the ship. They say it was a keepsake that belonged to the ship’s first captain’s grandmother. And the story of how it came to hang on the ship’s wall was one that no one could listen to without shedding a tear… But not a single person had ever heard the details of the story. Someone had probably made that up. The tattered clock was just a tattered clock. It was useful in that one could look up and see the current time. It was nothing more, nothing less. At the time, the clock’s hands pointed to six and twenty-six. The first victim was a strapping young ailuanthrope, unluckily charged with cleaning the windows. With an old mop in one hand, he was in the middle of desperately trying to scrub away at the sand that stuck to the window frame. He didn’t even have a spare moment to scream. At the time, the clock’s hands pointed to six and twenty-eight. A somewhat tipsy lizardfolk third officer was walking down the corridor when he heard a grating bang, bang, bang coming from the window. Wondering what it was, he went over to look, and he saw something dark green stuck to the other side of the window. And somehow, it looked like the green mass was trying to forcibly push its way through the window—no, the ship’s hull itself. The third officer screamed. A large crack spread across the window. At the time, the clock’s hands pointed to six and thirty-two. There was an explosive sound, and the furnaces began to whir. They had to get away from the ground as fast as possible. Otherwise, everything they had would be swallowed up by the gray sand and vanish. “Wh…wh-wh-wh-what is that?!” the bewildered first officer cried, and Glick looked out the window in turn. Beyond the faint sandstorm, the silhouettes of countless treelike forms extended their trunks and stretched their branches as they tried to ensnare the body of the Plantaginesta. “Whaddaya mean? That’s a swarm of Sixes,” Glick grumbled in response as he stuffed cannonballs one at a time into a large cannon. There was no way, of course, that a cannon could kill any of the Seventeen Beasts, but if it went well enough, then they could at least intimidate them. At the very least, it would be much better than doing nothing at all. “Y-you think it’s okay that we turn on the engines? I heard that’s how Saxifraga ended up falling!” That was because Saxifraga had been up against Beast Four. It relied on sound and movement to search for prey. The low humming of the furnaces would have been like painting a target on their forehead. But Timere wasn’t like that. Whether they had a good sense of sight or smell or whatever it might be, they unerringly searched out the living and attacked. It didn’t matter if their prey held their breath or pretended to be dead or hid behind a door. As long as they were alive, they could not run from their fangs or their claws or whatever they had. But on the flip side, that also meant that even if an inanimate object, like a furnace, made the biggest sounds in the world and moved erratically all over the place, it would not catch Timere’s interest. There was no time to be explaining all these little details, and it probably wouldn’t matter anyway. “Where are those dug weapons?! They’re here for times like these, aren’t they?! Hurry and make them clean up!!” “Don’t make others deal with the problems you brought on yourself when you decided to ignore reality!” The ship’s body shuddered violently. It tipped. The propellers spun wildly fast in desperation. The ground rose. “Okay, we’ll keep altitude at the fastest possible speed and shake off as many stuck to the outer hull as we can! We’ll get the ladies to do their work after that!” There was a hopeless thudding sound coming from the outer walls. It somehow almost sounded like it was getting closer. “Some of them’ve gotten inside! Evacuate everyone to a safe place!” “I—I can’t do that! I’m an officer, not a—not a commander! This is outside my expertise!” “Oh yeah?” If the officer was abandoning his work, then that made things easier for Glick. He grabbed the microphone and began yelling orders to all broadcasting devices throughout the ship. Of course, he didn’t have any expertise or anything like that, either, but in a situation like this, someone who could do something had to do it, otherwise no one would survive. The clock’s hands pointed to six and thirty-four. Chtholly wasn’t waking up. She had showed no signs of opening her eyes after she fainted underground. They immediately ran back to the airship afterward and rushed to the infirmary. They grabbed the hired doctor and asked him to do something, anything to wake her up. But of course, in the end, nothing worked. It wasn’t like she’d fallen ill or had any obvious flesh wounds in the first place. There wasn’t any treatment for someone with no visible abnormalities. She did actually have a long, thin bit of internal bleeding in her chest, but that probably didn’t have anything to do with her coma. Willem sat on the floor beside Chtholly as she slept, his head in his hands. There was no point in repairing Lapidemsibilus at this juncture, now that her condition had come to this. That Carillon preserved the health of the user’s body and mind to the best of its ability. It wouldn’t work if its own user never activated even the smallest bit of venenum to awaken the sword. “…What am I doing?” he groaned quietly. He wanted to make her happy. He knew he wanted to make her happy. How much had he done for her ever since she woke up? How much had he done to steer her in the direction of the future she wanted? He couldn’t think of a single thing. (—You don’t really think much of her at all, do you?) A voice whispered to him from a dark place deep in his heart. (You were concerned about her because she was Seniorious’s user. You never paid any mind to Chtholly herself. The only one you ever wanted to save was Lillia. The only promise you ever wanted to keep was the one you made with Almaria. Neither went very well at all, so since Chtholly’s situation was similar, you got caught up with her to fool yourself.) No. He had been looking at Chtholly for who she was. (You realized you could never make her happy, didn’t you? Seniorious’s choice itself is like a curse. Her ability to wield it means from start to finish, she’s been bound, whether by fate or destiny or whatever. She never had a way out to begin with.) No. No. No. She could have been happy. That’s what he’d intended to give her. (She was always being saved on the excuse that she’s a kid, right? You never looked at her for who she was. You kept your distance between the two of you. You might have embraced her, but she never embraced you. You were always the one to give her things, and she never gave you anything in return. She didn’t even stir the order of important things in your heart.) No. No. No. No. No. No. No. I—I just… She—she was… (“I tried my hardest to do everything I could! But I just couldn’t defy fate! It’s not my fault! Fate is all there is to blame!” …If it’s fate you’re up against, then everyone will pity you. No one’s gonna blame you. Oh, right, that’s ’cause there was nothing wrong with what you did. But—) No— (—what was totally fine for you ended up being fatally wrong for someone else.) The airship rolled. Glick was yelling over the announcement system for all personnel to seek shelter. Willem listened vacantly, the words going in one ear and out the other. “…‘Marry me,’ huh?” Those were the words that came out of his mouth the day before. “…What do I really think of her…?” He stood slowly. He lightly pressed his own lips against Chtholly’s as she slept. Plop. A single teardrop brimmed in his eye and spilled onto her cheek. He stepped back. He could hear the grating sound of metal being split open. It sounded like the intruders had entered the ship from the outside, somewhere not too far from his location. “…Ha-ha.” He gave a small laugh and turned his back to Chtholly. Though oblivious intruders they were, he was a little thankful for them. He could spend his time much better than just sitting here, thinking about awful things. “Sorry. I’ll be back in a sec.” That was all he said as he spoke over his shoulder and left the room. The clock’s hands pointed to six and thirty-five. The outlook of the battle was grim. But for Rhantolk, there were two things she felt grateful for. One was that since there were a great number of attacking Timere, the individual size of each Timere was not that big. Any attempt on their lives would not outright kill them. More appropriately, they divided just before their moment of death to double their selves, then they pushed the state of “death” onto one half, and the other half lived on. This repeated until each individual reached its division limit. The good thing was that, in essence, she did not see larger individual bodies among them whose division limit would be above ten. Just ten divisions meant even a lone faerie could kill them if she worked hard enough. The other good thing was how light her body felt. Her venenum had never kindled so readily before, and it easily poured into her sword, Historia. So much so that she almost forgot how serious the situation was; it almost felt refreshing. She knew why— It was that “treatment” Second Officer Willem Kmetsch had done with his hand. She had doubted him, thinking he had simply pressed about randomly because he just wanted to touch young female bodies, but it seemed she was wrong. He certainly was amazing. Personality-wise…she found him favorable, which also meant that he was the type she wanted to tease. She could see how Chtholly was infatuated with him. If he wasn’t an emnetwiht, of all things, she might even fancy him. “Num…ber…Three…!” She finished off one Beast. She flapped her wings straightaway and put distance between herself and the Beasts clinging to the side of the Plantaginesta. The Beasts could not fly. As long as she stayed in the air with her faerie wings, then she could keep a certain degree of battlefield dominance. And the Plantaginesta would soon secure a good altitude. The Beasts clung to one another, forming a ladder with their bodies as they tried to clamber up, but they were quickly reaching their limit and falling back to the land. “Okay…” Now their reinforcements from the ground were gone. All that was left was to clean up the creatures already clinging to the side of the ship. She looked out over the Plantaginesta again. The lower third of the ship was completely enwrapped in Timere, almost as though it were prey that had fallen into a leech-infested swamp. Though she didn’t want to look right at them, she still couldn’t ignore them, and she counted roughly a hundred or two hundred of them. “…No, no. It can’t be roughly a hundred, can it?” She unwittingly murmured a complaint about her own calculations. Even if the division limit for one body was a sensible number, it was ridiculous how hopeless it was, with how many individual bodies there were in the first place. Even though she was now in good condition from having her venenum poisoning or whatnot cured, a long, strenuous battle right afterward would just make her worse again. Even with a few favorable factors, the outlook of the battle was still unbelievably grim. The clock’s hands pointed to six and thirty-eight. Rejoice, for this is the battlefield. Something inside Willem whispered to him. The battlefield was a place meant for the heroic to display their bravery. A place to fight against something, destroy something, and win something. A space born and spent for that process. Here there was excitement. Glory. Tragedy. Fantasy. Reality. He once vied for the power to stand on the battlefield. He was once bitter because he couldn’t. His heart was once pained when he sent those precious to him off to this place. So this moment now was something he should have long hoped for. It should be a blessed, heart-stirring moment. Was that always what he wanted? Had he always wanted to feel what it was like to knock down his enemies and win something among the pain? “…Tch.” He clicked his tongue and brushed away the delusional distractions. He hunkered down and dashed through the corridor. A gray mass suddenly flew at him from his side, striking at him about waist height. He lowered himself down even more and let it pass over his head. The corridor itself became sliced—no, smashed to bits. The overwhelming mass and speed practically made him laugh. Its destructive power was almost hilarious. Bolts and screws and copper and steel plates—metal bits of all shapes and sizes danced in the air. A piece that someone had graffitied flew by in the corner of his vision. May Regule Aire always stay at peace. The thing slipped from between the cracks in the wall to show itself. It was a gray crustacean. Its sturdy-looking shell and joints made it look a little like a crab. But of course, real crabs didn’t have ten or more legs, and those legs didn’t expand and contract. It looked like a monster. It was easy to tell. —This must be a Seventeen Beast thing. He’d heard a lot about them, but it was his first time seeing one. He thought he might find himself overcome by deep emotion, but he didn’t really feel anything in particular. In front of him was just a deformed enemy with formidable power. That was all. —This might be the shadow of what was once emnetwiht. The possibility stirred something inside Willem ever so slightly. Just slightly. Once emnetwiht? So what? This thing was in front of him now as a monster. And it was threatening them. That was all. That was enough. A strong gust of wind howled from beyond the broken wall. Three of the Beast’s legs each flexed. It rushed at Willem to destroy him, mangling the ceiling and the walls and the floor as it did. Willem slowly collapsed, closing the distance between himself and the Beast with a graceful step. It was the first step of the running style passed down through the bards in West Garmando. At its peak, it was a special move that would turn the body into shimmering hot air and send everything flying, but for the talentless Willem, he could use it for nothing more than a little distracting trick. And that was enough. The Beast moved and acted like a literal beast. It was nothing but formidable, and without techniques, it had no skills. Just by moving in a way to make it question its reality, he could easily dodge all its attacks. He came right up to the side of the Beast, just a hairbreadth away. The surface of its body up close appeared to have some sort of odd-looking slime on it. (I sure hope that ain’t poison.) He came to the conclusion as he pulled out his left fist. His fist made contact with a metal sheet that fell from the ceiling and smashed it right into the root of the Beast’s leg. That didn’t damage it, of course. He was up against something notorious for its ability to withstand concentrated artillery fire, so there was no way his bare fist would put it on its back. He dropped. He bent his ankle. He turned his shoulders. He pooled all his breath into his stomach. All of his movements tied together seamlessly and created a great strength that fed right into his fist. The blow made a direct hit. If performed by a master, it was a technique said to have split mountains and caused waterfalls to flow backward, the question of whether that was fact or fiction aside. But those without experience, like Willem, could not pull off such a feat. The best he could do was push the opponent he punched a tiny bit forward. And, of course, that was enough. He pushed it toward a big gap in the wall; it was a gap that one of the Beast’s legs had just created. And once it was thrown out into the air, the wingless Beast would no longer have any way to get back to the battlefield. The Beast fell silently, wordlessly through the madder-red sky, slowly being swallowed up by the gray earth below. As he watched it go, he relaxed the alert tension throughout his body. “…Gh—” He’d pushed too hard with his broken body. Everywhere ached. He couldn’t help but grimace. He wrapped his arms around himself, checking for the damage. He was fine—as long as he didn’t have any broken bones, then his precious muscles and tendons were intact. He could still move. He could still fight. He could still stay on the battlefield. A bloodthirsty smile spread across his face. “—I’m surprised.” Willem turned around, and he saw the color indigo fluttering in the violent wind. “Hey, glad to see you’re all right, Rhantolk.” He gave a slight chuckle. “I hate to say this, but it’s thanks to you… It doesn’t seem like you’re doing all right, though,” Rhantolk said, her face sour. “You’re being too reckless. A wounded individual fighting with a Beast empty-handed, without using any venenum, and winning against it? What sort of joke is this?” “What, you were watching? How embarrassing.” “No need to play dumb about it. You certainly are exasperat— Oh—” Willem suddenly lost consciousness. The strength in his knees evaporated, and he started toppling in the direction of the hole in the wall. Just as he was about to soar through the air after the Beast, Rhantolk grabbed him, wrapped her arms around him, and collapsed back onto (what used to be) the corridor floor. “Sorry.” Willem’s consciousness came right back. “You seriously saved me there.” “I certainly did. You should at least thank me. Can you stand?” He checked himself. The answer was no—he had no strength left in his knees. “Oh well. I suppose we’ll take a little break. I’m a little tired, too, anyway,” Rhantolk said as she straightened her posture. She snuggled up to him, practically cradling his head in her bosom. “H-hey!” He was at a loss. Compared to Nephren, who always snuggled up to him in a similar fashion, Rhantolk’s physique was just a little more on the— “I hope you’re not having naughty thoughts.” Quit reading my mind. “Ha. You think I get excited over every kid I see?” He snorted, his question also acting as a means to convince himself. “I see. I won’t pursue the question of whether you actually mean that or if it’s the result of self-control, but I appreciate it either way,” she said as though seeing through his schemes, and she tightened her arms around him. His ear was pressed hard against her slight chest. He could hear the sound of her heartbeat clear as day. “…Your pulse is all over the place.” “I wasn’t as reckless as you, but I did push myself a little too much earlier.” Venenum used the heart’s power to spark. The reaction to such ferocity immediately manifested itself as an agitated heartbeat and blood flow. There was no questioning that this kind of intense arrhythmia was the result of the constant burning of venenum for battle without any regard for the future. “You wouldn’t happen to be able to use that odd technique of yours to fix it now, would you?” No. Willem, who’d only really dabbled in it on the battlefield before, couldn’t pull off dazzling feats like directly curing abnormalities in the heart with his treatment technique. He shook his head. “You’re more useless than I thought.” “…Than you thought? That means you were expecting more of me, huh?” “Not at a—” She cut herself off to think for a moment. “…Actually, perhaps I was. I don’t consider you trustworthy or reliable, but somewhere deep down, I was expecting something from you.” She sounded like a lizard he knew once. That didn’t make him happy. “Do you know how the battle’s going? How are Nopht and Nephren doing?” “I don’t know exactly how many enemies there were, but there must be about ten or so left. I saw Nopht a little while ago from far away, and she seemed fine, but she was pushing herself as hard as I had been. I haven’t seen Nephren yet, but she must be fighting down near the cargo hold.” “Okay.” He thought for a moment. The battle was clearly going poorly. The faeries were powerful, and there was no way they would fall behind in a one-on-one with these little grain-like Beasts. But the faeries were outnumbered and couldn’t catch breaks when they wanted, so the longer the battle went on, the more at a disadvantage they would be. “…I guess I—” “Overruled.” The words he began to murmur were immediately stamped out. “I haven’t said anything yet.” “You looked like you were about to say something utterly nonsensical. I know what you’re thinking. Since this isn’t a situation where opening the gates to the faerie homeland won’t solve anything, you would sacrifice yourself, become stone, and solve everything nicely. That way, there would be the least amount of losses—that’s what you were thinking, wasn’t it?” I thought I told you not to read my mind. “If not, then that wouldn’t explain that big, happy grin on your face.” … Oh. Guess that’s the kind of face I was making. “But for you, wouldn’t it be a bit of a relief without me around?” “I won’t deny that. But I am not very fond of the thought of someone using their friends as an excuse to commit suicide.” Chtholly wasn’t waking up. Willem was trying to throw himself into a desperate fight. It seemed that these two things were pretty obviously connected, even when viewed from the outside. “Yeah, guess you’re right.” He placed the palm of his hand on Rhantolk’s head as she sat propping herself up. A disgusted look crossed her face, and she swatted him away. Well, of course she would. “The number of enemies is dwindling. You should take a little rest. I’m gonna go check on the hold.” “Is that an order?” “Take it as you like,” Willem responded and ran off. The clock’s hands pointed to six and fifty-one. “Gah!!” With a powerful blow, Nopht went flying. She ricocheted off the walls and ceiling as she ripped pipes from their fixtures, rolled all the way to the end of the corridor, then finally stopped. “Ngh…” She’d just barely managed to give herself protection with her magic. She didn’t have any obvious wounds on her. But the impact left her right arm numb, and she could no longer move it. “Ah-ha…ha-ha. Man, this is pretty bad.” She fixed her gaze on the Beast as it slowly approached, standing with shaky legs. Keeping one’s venenum constantly activated without any breaks was almost like running at full speed for the same amount of time. So the time Nopht was being forced straight into one battle after another was pushing her very close and very quickly to her limit. But it was worth it. The number of enemies was waning. It wouldn’t be very long before this grueling battle would be over. They would make it be over. It would be done, and they would win—then what would happen? The clock’s hands pointed to six and fifty-ni— A large hole opened up through the layers of steel plating plastered on the wall of the ship’s hull. The ship reeled. The clock slipped from the wall. With a small crack, the clock face split. The broken clock would never count the hours again. Anyone would immediately be able to tell that Nephren’s movements were slowing. All the noncombatant personnel—basically, everyone besides the faeries—were taking shelter in the hold. The Beasts were gathering one after another to kill them. She was going to stop them and chase them away. Her battle was one of endurance, staying in one place. All elements of the location were working against her. Small-framed Nephren had very little stamina, and she never had the experience of maintaining concentration in a battle of one-on-many for an extended period of time. Since the main playing field ended up being in an enclosed space, she couldn’t use her small frame or wings for mobility. Her sword, Insania, was large and heavy, but regardless, it was still inferior to the reach that the Beasts’ tentacles had. Whenever she went to take her enemy’s life, all she could do was slowly grind away at her own strength and concentration as she threw herself at it. As time passed, the vitality in Nephren’s actions dwindled, and the Beasts’ numbers and drive grew. The line of battle had regressed, and they were now pushed back almost to the center of the hold. Then— “If ya can’t fly, you better grab on to somethin’ quick—!” Glick yelled over the announcement system from the control room, and as he pulled down several position-control tubes, he cut off the steering wheel. Being forced into an impossible action, the body of the ship gave a shrill cry. The bow of the ship tilted upward. The stern drooped downward. All the Timere that had gathered in the hold in pursuit of living creatures silently slid down across the floor. In time with their movements, Nephren smashed out the large service door in the hold with her sword. All the things stuffed inside—rations for the trip home and spoils from the surface—flew out into space one after the other. The Beasts each transformed their tentacles and tried to cling onto the floor and walls, but the falling boxes pushed them out, and they, too, began falling to the ground. One split its body into two as it fell. One half became a spring, and the other half made a huge leap off it. Its claw extended, about to grab onto Nephren, who lost balance. “No way!” One of the crew members threw a barrel of oil that had caught onto one of the beams. It was probably meant to be nothing more than a feint, but it luckily made a direct hit on the Beast, splattering a low-viscosity cooking oil everywhere. The claw was about to pierce Nephren’s stomach, but it missed its mark and ended up only hitting the back of her head lightly. The Beast transformed its tentacles into that of a thorny crustacean and tried to cling to the floor. But it was slick with oil, and the Beast couldn’t support its own weight. Soon, that Beast, too, joined its brethren and was flung out into the open sky. All the crew members cheered. “You did it, little missy!” Someone sent a cheer of appreciation Nephren’s way. At that moment— Slip. Nephren’s body began to slide across the tilted floor. She had breached her limits. She had been fighting on willpower alone. The last blow she received from the Beast and the relief that she’d successfully kept the hold safe for now was enough to snip the last thread of her willpower. “No!!” Several crew members raised their voices in a cry. Some of them crawled along the floor to get closer, but Nephren gazed up at them with a hazy look. “…Stay…away.” Her body was burning. But, at the same time, cold as ice. She’d burned up too much of her venenum. She’d overused the power, born from turning her back to her life and taking a step closer to death without thinking about what would come after. And so, there was only one destination waiting for her after this. Overdrive. Then, the rampaging waves of energy would blow away anything and everything around it. It was an overwhelming yet absolute display of power, strong enough to easily render even the largest of Timere to nothing. “Just wait, I’ll be right there!” A frogger crew member plastered his fingers against the floor, moving slowly toward her. She couldn’t let this happen. She couldn’t let them save her. It was that thought alone that put her body into motion. “What are you doing?!” She lightly pushed off from the floor. Nephren jumped into the wide-open sky that connected them to the ground—and fell. From the corner of his eye and beyond the rip in the outer wall, Willem saw an unconscious Nephren falling. “Wha…?” His mind went blank. In the next moment, he was already flying through the roaring, whirling wind. His eyes were screaming in pain, but he forced them open and followed Nephren’s figure. She was falling backward, Insania no longer in her hands, unable to make any movement of her own. Then, her surroundings. The Beasts that must’ve fallen from the ship before Nephren were awkwardly trying to ride the wind to get closer to her. This isn’t funny. With that one thought, he decided to give up on everything. He used the Nightingale Sweep. He kicked off the air and flew to Insania’s hilt. He activated his venenum. He clenched his jaw to ignore the shocks of pain that ran all throughout his body as he tried to wake the Carillon through its hilt. He couldn’t. Willem Kmetsch didn’t have the skill to use high-level Carillon. That didn’t discourage him. Because he’d known that from the very beginning. Fighting against the ferocity of the storm-like wind resistance, he reached up with his left hand to the center of the blade. “Initialize…adjustment…!!” Insania’s blade split into pieces. The cracks widened, and light filled the gaps between them. In its splintered state, Willem reached out to the crystal fragment that made up Insania’s core and forcefully pulled it toward him. The veins of enchantment ripped and frayed. The spinal root was no longer able to circulate the power, and it began to heat up, unable to stand against the pressure inside it. The Carillon Insania was already gone. All that remained was a raging clump of power that once used to be a Carillon. “Leave her—” There were thirteen Beasts in total after Nephren. And in a few more seconds, they would impact with the ground and die. “—the hell…alone…!!” He performed a second Nightingale Sweep, then the draconic festering. He let loose a monstrous roar and attacked the horde of Beasts. 4. The Happiest Girl in the World By the time she realized it, the girl stood in a dark ruin. Before her stood a child, one she felt like she’d seen somewhere before, tears welling in her eyes. —What’s wrong, Elq? The girl’s memory was hazy, but she somehow remembered the child’s name. Did you have a bad dream? Elq’s body shivered. “…Chtholly…” Elq looked up at the girl and murmured someone’s name. Whose name was it? It sounded familiar. She thought for a moment. Ah, right. That was “my” name. The girl accepted the name, feeling as though she was seeing an old friend for the first time in a long time. Now that she was hearing it again, it was a weird name. It was hard to remember, hard to say, and not very cute. “I’m sorry.” Why are you apologizing? “I knew this would happen. I knew there were so many bad things.” Now that I think about it, that’s right. It’s okay. Actually, I should thank you. It’s thanks to you, thanks to how you closed your eyes for me, that I could keep my promises. I could go home to where I wanted. It seems like I lost a lot along the way, though. “…Chtholly?” I do have one request. But this is probably my last. “But…” I can’t really remember the details, but there’s someone I want to help. There are feelings I want to express. So please. “No matter what?” No matter what. “You won’t come back this time, Chtholly.” I’m almost completely gone anyway. And—I finally understand. Was that what “I” really was in the first place? Is that the real reason why Seniorious chose me? “…” I understand everything. That is why I’m asking you. Please— Just one last time. Let me go back. She slowly pushed herself up. The girl with long red hair got up from bed. “Umm…” Where was she? Who was she? As though her mind were enshrouded in mist—no, completely covered in mud—she couldn’t remember a thing. There was a deep vibrating sound, and the world shook. She could hear the loud sounds of metal clashing against metal from far away. She thought absently to herself—this must be some kind of battlefield. She found the door and wandered out of the room. She came to a cramped and narrow corridor. She walked around the area without any particular destination. She finally came across a spot with a strangely nice view. Most of the wall had been pulled off, and outside she could see a wide blue sky as the sun set. The deep cerulean changed to a light purple, slowly being taken over by red. “Chtholly…?” There was a groaning voice, and she turned around. A girl was collapsed in the dingy corridor, her arms and legs splayed out in all directions. Her entire body was injured so badly she couldn’t move, despite how extremely agitated her venenum seemed. “You idiot, it’s dangerous out here… Now that you’re awake, you needa go hide somewhere.” Is she an acquaintance? she thought. It sounded like this girl knew who she was. But she couldn’t remember who the girl was at all. That piece of her heart had already vanished. But there were more important things to think about. The sky spread wide before her on the other side of the large hole in the wall. There she saw a silhouette, one that seemed on the verge of disappearing. “Ah—” She remembered. It was him. She couldn’t recall his name, but he must have been someone so important to her. It was just a hunch, but she had the feeling that he was the type to load unnecessary burden onto himself. But still, even so, why was he out there in a free fall? She had a feeling he wasn’t the type of creature that had wings, so if he hit the ground with that much force, he would die. “I suppose I’ve got no choice, do I?” She stepped over the wrecked wall and jumped off, too—but not yet. There was a nice-looking sword on the ground next to her, and she picked it up. Its name was engraved on the hilt: Desperatio. Interesting— “Severed Hope” was the bluff in its name. “No, don’t go,” the collapsed girl moaned. “Don’t fight anymore. Don’t end up a casualty here. We’ll fight your share of the battle. That’s why”—she paused to give a loud cough, perhaps from the lung damage—“if you don’t have to fight, then don’t. If you can find happiness, then be happy. None of us would accept it if you didn’t.” The girl’s wandering gaze finally fixed on her, and she begged her. Her consciousness was probably hazy because of the overuse of venenum. “I’m sorry. I will never be able to be happier than this.” She sent a slight amount of venenum through Desperatio. It melded smoothly with the blade, as though it was a part of her body to begin with. “Because I finally realized that I have always been happy.” A broad, tooth-baring smile crossed her face. And the girl leaped into the unending sky. Her hair whipped around violently in the wind. Her whole body was overflowing with venenum without her having to kindle any more. Many books burning as they fall. A serpent swimming in flames. The silver moon crumbling to pieces. Her soul fell to pieces with quiet ding, dings audible only to herself. One piece fell. And then another one. A ship sailing across the stars. Rows of coffins, all lined up. A cracked canopy. Ding, ding, ding. So many things slipped from her mind. All the fun times; all the bad times. She could feel her heart being erased, turning into a blank canvas. But— “Good luck.” Her lips spontaneously bent into a smile. He deeply regretted, from the bottom of his heart, that he never finished studying midair techniques. Well, it was obvious that the greater question was whether his talentless self could’ve produced good results in the first place, even if he’d studied them, but that was irrelevant right now. He just couldn’t scratch away the feeling of what if. He first cleared the area of Beasts as he clutched the unconscious Nephren. Now, he was currently supercharging all the venenum he could possibly activate so that most of it could bear the impact of their fall. Nevertheless, the shock battered Willem’s whole body, one that could rip him into pieces and still not be enough. With Nephren in his arms, he rolled far across the gray sand. The friction of the sand ripped and tore at his skin, rubbing away even further at the exposed blood and flesh. “Rgh… Agh…!” They stopped spinning. He coughed up a mass of air and blood from his crushed lungs. His entire body was numb. Maybe he should be thankful for that. If he hadn’t been paralyzed—if his pain receptors were fully functional—then he probably wouldn’t be able to stay conscious. That was how bad Willem’s wounds were. (—Shit.) He had ventured beyond the realm of desperation. He couldn’t move and probably wouldn’t ever again. But they weren’t out of danger yet. All the Beasts he hadn’t been able to fight off during the fall were slowly starting to lift themselves up from the dunes of sand. And he could tell the horde of Beasts left on the ground when the airship took off were silently closing the distance from far away. Their numbers were probably easily over a hundred. (There has to be something. A way, anything.) He barely managed to string together his consciousness, as it still felt like it could vanish at any moment, and forced himself to think like there was literally no tomorrow. But he thought of nothing. He could think of a hundred ways and a hundred outcomes, a thousand ways and a thousand outcomes, and they would all lead to their death. (This isn’t funny.) He gritted his teeth, most of which were broken. (I—I can’t just give up on these kids’ futures—) “You saying you’ll always be right by their side protecting them?” He suddenly heard his master’s snide remark from the back of his mind. Shut up, go away, this isn’t the time to be remembering you, he thought, but it didn’t go away that easily. “Ahhh—be glad, Quasi Brave. Because you can never become a Legal Brave.” …Right. He’d simply ignored it back then, but now he wondered what that meant. One needed a special background in order to become a Legal Brave. Whether it be birth or upbringing or destiny, Willem knew well that he had absolutely nothing to do with that kind of stuff. So then why had his master felt the need to say that to remind him all over again? (—That doesn’t matter right now!) A Beast was drawing straight toward them. He wanted to counterattack, but he couldn’t move a single finger. This is it, huh? A small seed of defeat sprouted in his heart. From that moment, his consciousness began to fade rapidly. Sorry, Nephren. I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry, Chtholly. I couldn’t make you happy. And, and— It was the very last moment before his consciousness was completely swallowed by darkness. He thought he saw someone land gently on the ground by their side. 5. The End of a Dream It was like swimming in a dream. A raring impatience clung incessantly to her limbs. Time stretched out indefinitely. Her consciousness was accelerating. Every single time she swung her right arm once, she lost two things. A Beast evaporated, swallowed up by the raging inferno of venenum. With quiet ding, dings audible only to her, the pieces of “Chtholly” that were barely left in the girl were slowly chiseled away. (—Ahhh—) She must have had memories she never wanted to lose. But she could no longer remember what those were. She must have had futures she never wanted to give up on. But she could no longer even picture what a future was. She lost everything. She let it all go. She didn’t regret it. At least, she didn’t think so. Probably. She couldn’t really tell. The memories to show her how to make that judgment were already gone. How long had she spent doing that? She thought the battle would be never ending, but it still came to a conclusion in the end. The number of sliced, pummeled, burned Beasts was 715. That was all of them. She saw that all the Beasts in the area were no more, and she finally stopped. The wind died down. Her fiery red hair reflected the moonlight, shimmering softly. Someone was collapsed on the ground. Who is it? she thought. She struggled to put her head to one side, then she looked over to them. In the darkness of night, she saw a young man with black hair cradling a girl to his chest, both unconscious. “Ah…” She lifted her head, about to say something. But her throat had been completely worn out from her reckless breathing in the earlier battle, and she didn’t even know what she would say in the first place. The man’s expression made him seem close to tears. For some reason, she thought that was sad. Who was he? He must have been someone incredibly dear and precious to her. But she couldn’t remember who he was. She couldn’t even feel a sense of loss. I want him to laugh, she thought. I want him to make that cheeky smile, she thought. But at the same time, she also thought, I want him to cry. She also desperately wished he would love her, the empty shell that she had become, so much so that she wanted to burst into tears. I am terrible. I am truly, truly terrible. She thought she saw the young man just barely open his eyes and look at her. Joy burst from deep within her heart. Now, she could tell him. Even after her heart had lost everything else, even after she lost sight of who she was herself, the only thing that remained was her last wish. There was something she wanted to tell him, no matter what, before she disappeared completely. “Thank…you.” She managed to somehow move her lips to form the words. In the end, she used all the strength she could muster to smile. And this time, the girl’s consciousness ceased for good. The damage report was thick enough to be its own tome. It wasn’t entirely unheard of. The value of a large-size airship didn’t start and stop with it just being a complicated machine. The detailed rights of which routes it could fly on and which ports it could dock at cost a bit of money themselves. And on top of that, if someone was considering flying it down to the surface, then the rights that must be purchased would outnumber the number of fingers and toes on both hands and both feet (we’re thinking about races with five fingers on one hand, five toes on one foot, and two hands and two feet, here). That said, the correspondence sent to the faerie warehouse was simple. It said: In the sudden battle that broke out at Ground Level K96, MAL Ruins, Second Officer Willem Kmetsch and his secretary went missing in action. Additionally, the equipment listed below was lost in the battle: Dug weapon Insania. Dug weapon Desperatio. Dug weapon compatible user, faerie soldier Nephren Ruq Insania. Since Second Officer Kmetsch did not have any family, the compensation will be passed on to his workplace, the Orlandry Alliance Warehouse No. 4, and added to its operating fees, in accordance with his life’s wishes—