Chapter 30

Even Now, in This World Fading to Dusk -everything in my hands- 1. The Faeries of Collina di Luce She had her whole body examined; they put a light right next to her eyes to see how they were working, they made her take medicine for the exam and asked how she was feeling, and they took just a little bit of blood from her. “Oooh, I don’t think I can be married off anymore after having my body prodded like that…” With nothing but a single hospital gown covering her bare skin, Ithea slowly sat up on the examination table. “That aside, this means the checkup’s over, yeah?” No response. The cyclops doctor peered at her chart, his expression stiff. It was typically hard to read the expressions of races who had differing facial structures, but there were times where they were obvious and came across fine. “…You’ve really been putting up a fight,” was all he said, as though the words were being squeezed out of him. “Nya-ha-ha, all I’ve got is a reputation for being tough, that’s for sure.” She brushed it off with her usual fake smile as she did up the buttons on the gown. “Your life force is withering. Your body is forgetting how to live. If you get injured, I don’t think you’ll recover anymore. You won’t be able to gain back any of the strength you use up when activating your venenum.” “Yep, yep, that’s what I thought.” She responded with as bright a voice as she could muster in response to the cyclops’s grave tone. “I’m not sure if you’ll be able to come home the next time you go off to fight.” “Yeah. Y’know, I’m almost relieved that it’s finally my turn.” She swung her legs back and forth as she sat on the exam table. “Honestly, I’ve lived for way too long. I’ve been really struggling lately. There are so many other girls I hope will survive, but then they go die off one by one. Yet, here’s li’l ol’ me and my worthless life still hanging on ages later.” “There’s no such thing as a life not worth living.” “Well…sure. But we’re not alive to begin with.” “That’s not what I meant—” “I think maybe you oughtta leave it at that, Doc. It’d be a real disgrace for you to start empathizing with disposable tools.” “It is true there are plenty of people who think that way, but none of them know who you are personally—none of them know that faeries have a sense of self. We couldn’t call you—” “You have to send us into the jaws of death in order to keep Regule Aire safe.” She cut him off. “That’s why they don’t recognize us as our own race. They treat us like weapons without any rights. That’s so all the people directly involved can use us up like we’re meant to without any hemming and hawing. They need that rule, and so that’s how it is. Right?” “Right,” he said with a stern voice and a heavy sigh. “I’ll acknowledge that much. But more than that, we are still individually free to think how we want.” “If there are too many adults who spoil us, we might end up saying things like, ‘I don’t wanna die, so I’m not gonna fight.’” “…You’re right.” The cyclops curtly averted his gaze. “Hmm? That’s awfully shifty of you. Are you hiding something?” “It’s not really something worth hiding, no. But let’s suppose—and this is purely supposition—what if none of you had to fight any longer and you could live out your life. What would you want to do?” “Huh. Well, that sure came outta nowhere.” She thought for a moment. “Well, if we’re just speaking in hypotheticals, then I guess I’d wanna stay as I have been this whole time.” “And how’s that?” “Spend my time lazing and idling around in the warehouse in the forest. Just watching the kiddies playing and making a ruckus while our childish mom figure chases after them as I read a book. Super-peaceful days that stretch out my life span.” “…Ha-ha. I see, then. I see.” He nodded a few times before adding, as though totally disregarding their entire conversation, “I think you are meant to live a long life after all.” Lakhesh’s physical tweaks were finished. Each doctor individually praised her for producing such great numbers, for possessing such superb qualities. And every single time she heard one of those compliments, Nygglatho’s mood sank. No matter how well a blade could cut, no matter how effective a bomb was, none of those praises were going to make a little girl happy. She hoped there would never, ever be a chance in the future for Lakhesh to use her talents. She didn’t want the chance to come. She would fight it off. “Whoooooooaaaaaaa!” “Wooooooooow…” Tiat and Lakhesh stood side by side, squealing in excitement. This was Barley Square—one of the most notable landmarks in all of Collina di Luce. Just as its name suggested, it was originally a wholesale market that dealt purely in barley. Its job as a marketplace was finished when they built a different one near the aire-port, and now it was just a multipurpose plaza. Artists were putting on a diverse array of performances all over the square. There was a ballman acrobat juggling countless knives, a frogger magician breathing out thin streams of fire, and a band in matching masks playing upbeat music to liven up the atmosphere. “Wow, wow, wow!” A freed child’s curiosity knew no bounds. Tiat ran left and right, from crowd to crowd. She dragged Lakhesh along by the hand, who hollered as she followed. “H-hey, stop running around so much! Did you forget you’re supposed to be watched?!” According to The Winged Guard’s weapons management procedures, the minimum requirement for taking the leprechauns out on an excursion was an accompanying ranked officer. And so the poor fourth officer, forced to act as their chaperone, chased the two, yelling after them. Nygglatho felt conflicted as she watched on. “…If only we’d come just for sightseeing.” She knew the wish was outrageous. These girls were here to be ready for battle, and it was a battle they shouldn’t have been involved in at all in the first place. That was why they were being granted such selfish requests as sightseeing, which were typically unthinkable. Speaking of selfishness—there was Nephren. She couldn’t be dead from the way she looked. But at the same time, she couldn’t be 100 percent in good health, either. She’d undergone a different sort of change than what Chtholly had experienced and probably would never return to the faerie warehouse. Nygglatho would miss her. But it wasn’t a sad story. The sky was endless, and the world was small. Believing that Nephren was out there somewhere, happy and healthy, was more than good enough for her. She couldn’t even wish the same for the ones who’d already passed, after all. “Heeey, Nygglatho! Over here, over heeeere! Look, they’re doing an arm-wrestling contest! You should join with the old man!” There was Tiat, waving her arm around. The fourth officer who she’d called “the old man,” who had a smile containing mixed feelings on his face, was getting into it and rolling up his sleeves. Lakhesh was incessantly bowing her head in apology. That was rather optimistic of them to invite her without knowing how she felt. How wonderful. “…Sure thing!” She waved back at Tiat. “The contest won’t last for long once I join in!” she called as she jogged toward the children. Everything was worth asking for. After being asked whether or not they’d be able to get into the Great Central Library, anticipating a “no” for an answer, the mayor’s daughter, Phyracorlybia—or Phyr, as she told them to call her—gave a very enthusiastic “Understood!” in return. And then, not even half a day later, she picked up some library passes, of all things, for them. Rhantolk, the very one who asked for it, was the one most surprised of them all. They were faeries raised in the countryside and had no rights whatsoever. And Collina di Luce’s Great Central Library, on the other end of the spectrum, represented the whole of Regule Aire’s collective wisdom. It was of a vastly different class and so awe-inspiring that they felt out of place, like they would be punished for simply approaching it. The library pass was handed to her in an envelope, and it somehow looked like a terrifying lethal weapon. Underneath several grandiose stamps, there was some mysterious sorcery written that said, THIS PASS GRANTS THE HOLDER ACCESS TO NO FURTHER THAN CONFIDENTIAL VAULT B-47. What was this B-47? Was it full of secrets beyond that point that they’d be disappeared if they found out? “…You sure think up some crazy stuff, too, Rhan,” Ithea muttered matter-of-factly. She’d also received the same library pass. “Don’t remind me. I’m about to be crushed under the weight of my realization.” “The two of us are pretty lower-middle-class, huh?” “I believe that everyone values their own standing.” They quietly exchanged words of inferiority. “All right, then, let us be off! I will do my best to help you research in any way I can!” Phyr was the only excited person in their party, and she started to walk off briskly. “I cannot help you at all when it comes to your real battles. Oh, no, it would probably be an insult to all the faeries if I even tried. So please, allow me to do what little I can while I have the chance!” A bright-red flame was burning in her eyes. “She sure is a handful once you flip the switch, huh…?” “Was she like this last time?” “The officer handled it.” That guy again? Why was it that whenever he got involved, everyone felt the need to be such obvious handfuls with their true personalities? A battle with a great army of books commenced. She thought her brain was going to boil over. She loved reading. She didn’t hate thinking. But everything had a limit. And Rhantolk’s head, stuffed with information beyond its capacity, was overheating. “Why don’t we step outside for a moment and rest as we compile our notes?” she offered. “Ahhh, sorry, I’m gonna try and get a little further in this book. Why don’t you head out first?” “I will assist Miss Ithea, so please go ahead, Miss Rhantolk. Oh, there’s a café in the rear of the library that serves a delicious pudding—why don’t you wait there, and we’ll meet up with you afterward?” The deceptively tough duo said that to her. “Wait, we can’t act separately, can we? We’re faeries, you know.” She glanced at the uniformed chaperone who stood beside them, who had completely transformed into a mere ornament. “I’ve received orders from the first officer to allow you to roam about as freely as possible. But do not go too far.” Surprisingly, she was given the go-ahead. She had her doubts, but if he said it was fine, then she wasn’t going to try and press the issue. “…I see. Then, if you say so, I shall do just that.” She nodded dutifully, took her note-filled notebook, and stood from her seat. She found the café Phyr had recommended to her relatively quickly. There weren’t a lot of people inside, probably because it wasn’t on the main street. The majority of the customers didn’t seem to be tourists, either, but rather locals; that meant this little spot had its own pool of regulars. She took a seat on the open terrace. There were a lot of things that stood out on the menu, but the milk tea and slice of apple pie drew her eye the most, so that’s what she ordered. She opened her notebook then stared down again at the scribbled passages she’d copied from the books she read. “Hmm…” What were they—what were leprechauns—to begin with? Why did they exist? Where did they come from; where did they go? That was the original problem Ithea had posed to her at the faerie warehouse the other day. Just those questions on their own sounded like the worries of adolescence. And even more troubling was that, from an objective perspective, they were adolescent children. Children from other races would collect answers from philosophy or fiction books. But all the books they were reading through were none other than research documents on necromancy. On top of that, they were the highest-level material anyone could hope to find on the island cluster. “We sure are a questionable bunch, aren’t we…?” she muttered and then remembered she was all alone. It always felt like Nopht was right next to her, perhaps because they had spent so much time together. Nopht wasn’t the type to think very hard about things, nor was she too quick to catch on, but she was very good at listening. She could draw the words out of Rhantolk, even when Rhantolk was in the middle of a thought. And so that’s how she ended up with the tendency to talk to herself. This is not a good habit, she thought. Even though she was aiming to be an entirely independent woman, it didn’t seem to be going very well. “Perhaps I’m at the stage where everything I try winds up fruitless in the end…” She took a bite out of the apple pie. Delicious. Then—there was a strong gust of wind. It snatched several of her notes from her hand, and they swirled up into the sky. “Ah…” Flustered, she put out her hand but couldn’t reach. The moment she stood from her chair to reach even higher, another gust of wind blew all the rest of her notes away. “Ahhh! Oh nooo!” She stared blankly up at the sky, lamenting her carelessness. Should she rush to kindle some venenum and chase after them? No, she wouldn’t make it in time. Should she run after them on foot? No, she couldn’t keep up like that, and she had a feeling that would simply cause even more mistakes. Then, what should she do? What could she do? Time was ticking, even as she waffled. As she watched, her notes flew high, ever so higher— “…What?” —but not that high. All her notes froze in midair, as though that exact moment had been cut out of the flow of time. “This…” A second later, they started moving again. This time, they ignored the wind and were being sucked in toward the hands of a man standing in the middle of the street, like they were attached to a string. There was an old man with a stern face, wearing a white cape that stood out like a sore thumb. “Wh-whaaat?! Mister?!” “Oh, you’re the girl from the other day! What a surprise!” There wasn’t a hint of surprise on the passing old man’s face as he approached, her notes in his hands. “You’ve come all this way to concentrate on studying, I see. Everything you learn when you’re young becomes a weapon for you to wield in the future. But of course, sometimes there’s not much meaning if you don’t learn by putting together the way you… Hmm?” The old man’s gaze suddenly dropped to the bundle of notes, and he furrowed his brow. “Thank you. Those notes are very important to me.” “Mm, high-level necromancy? You sure picked an eccentric topic for your self-study, didn’t you?” “No, I’m not exactly a student, and what I’m doing isn’t as commendable as studying. I have no intentions of preparing for the future; it’s something I simply wanted to learn about.” “What did you say?” She took back the notes the old man handed to her. “…Yes, the color of your hair. You’re a leprechaun, too.” “Oh—” In a flash, a whole mixture of feelings blended in Rhantolk’s head. Not everyone who knew of the leprechaun race had a very good impression of them. She steeled herself, afraid of what sort of expression would appear on the old man’s face in the next moment. “I see now. The other young lady with you was your manager. It slipped my mind. I told myself long ago that I’d never see you in person. Who would’ve thought we’d meet like this and even go as far as engaging in conversation?” This was a surprise. What did this all mean? There was a faint yet recognizable twist of grief on the old man’s face. It wasn’t hatred or hesitation that exuded from his expression but regret. “Erm. I’m sorry, mister, are you all right?” Even she thought it was a stupid question. If he wasn’t okay, then it couldn’t be anything but her fault. She wasn’t in the position to offer him consoling words with a kind expression. “…Ha-ha. Are you concerned for me? What a kind girl you are.” “Uh…” He praised her, for some reason. Ever since she’d first met him, it almost felt like her own train of thought and everything he said never quite matched up. It was vexing, like a key gear that just kept on turning, even though it wasn’t meshing with anything. “Well, we cannot help what has already come to pass. Coincidences are coincidences, and whether or not they bring good or bad luck solely depends on how we make do with the situation.” “Uh…” What was this man talking about? The old man pulled out a chair before the baffled Rhantolk and sat opposite her. His large stature didn’t quite match the smaller café chairs. “There must be something you want to learn from the knowledge pool of necromancy. Go ahead and ask me. I’ll answer.” “Er, what we’re trying to learn is a little complicated…” “I don’t doubt it, but no matter. Ask away.” Nonsense. He’d known she was researching necromancy with just a glance at her notes. At this point in time, she could reasonably guess that this old man knew many things. But what she and the others wanted to know wasn’t something that should be in the information banks of a knowledgeable old man like him. “…What are leprechauns in the first place?” Still, there was no harm in asking. She felt like she was daring him to answer if he could. “I see. A query that gets right to the heart of things, doesn’t it? Well done.” He nodded, pleased for some reason. “Well then, where should I start?” He thought for a moment. “A long, long time ago, the Visitors ordered the Poteau to create the emnetwiht race.” “What?” It sounded like he was suddenly starting from an unrelated thread. The old man continued, ignoring Rhantolk’s confusion. “They didn’t create them out of thin air, no. They prepared and processed material to make them. These materials were essentially of two parts: the first being the sole species that existed on this world when the Visitors came—the Primitive Beasts—and the other being the Visitors’ own souls, as the Visitors had grown weary of living life as wanderers. And the way they processed these”—he pointed to Rhantolk’s half-eaten apple pie—“was no different from that right there. They shattered their souls into teeny-tiny pieces and kneaded them into the Primitive Beasts. It was a large-scale enchantment, one that forcibly overwrote the Beasts’ physical appearances from the soul outward. The things that were once the Primitive Beasts were transformed into completely different beings that looked just like the Visitors, and that was how the emnetwiht came to be.” “Uh… Wait, but, um?” That didn’t match up with what was commonly accepted as the creation myth. It was such an exaggerated story that Rhantolk had a hard time buying it. It didn’t even answer her question anyway. She was all around unsure what she should roll her eyes at first. But there was just one thing in there that caught her attention. The Visitors had used these Primitive Beasts in order to create the emnetwiht from them. “But, well, the emnetwiht race ended up multiplying too much. There was more pie, but unfortunately, there wasn’t enough crust. The amount of crust—the Visitors’ souls—stayed consistently the same ever since the moment they were shattered. The crust grew thinner and thinner as the days went on.” “…And don’t tell me that the Beasts were freed from inside them…?” That was the surface of a tentative theory she’d reached just the other day. But her idea was nothing more than one possible conclusion she first stumbled onto when she was reading that ancient text they’d happened to find. This old man, who shouldn’t have had the same opportunity as she did, was, for some reason, expressing the exact same thing. “Indeed. You’re sharp. Don’t tell me you’ve already put it together?” The old man was impressed. He briefly glanced over the notes on the table. “The Primitive Beasts were originally immortal and indestructible beings. And by being sealed within the mortal husks that were the emnetwiht, they changed. Remorse. Hope. Interdependence. Justice. Kindness. Fear. Apathy. Ignorance… Influenced by the many factors that lured people to death, the Seventeen Beasts turned into beings that symbolized death. “Once these things were free, the emnetwiht race would perish. The emnetwiht knew this and devised a plan. As luck would have it, there were two Visitors still alive at the time.” The Visitors—indeed, their legend was still spoken of today. They say that a little over five hundred scant years ago, the emnetwiht Braves struck down the last Visitor. “Yes. There were those who wanted to use the Visitors’ souls to make a new piecrust. But they failed in their attempt. Emnetwiht technology could not replicate the Poteaus’ deed. They were unable to shatter the Visitors’ souls as they wanted; they simply cracked into many pieces and scattered with the wind. They were unable to bake a new apple pie, and so came the inevitable end. Well, I left out a lot, but that’s the general order of events.” “…Um.” Rhantolk slowly raised her hand. “This was all very intriguing, but that was a story about what the emnetwiht were, right? My question was what the leprechauns are.” “Yes, of course. I believe I answered your question.” The two of them were operating on two seriously different wavelengths. But even so, the conversation itself should hold water in some shape or form. She just needed to approach what the old man said as if she was deciphering a complicated ancient text. Then, she should be able to understand what he meant. With that in mind, she thought over the story again— “…No.” —and put two and two together. The soul of the last Visitor didn’t shatter very nice and properly. Their ingredient of soul fragments scattered to the wind, and they were unable to bake a new apple pie. “The failed generation of emnetwiht that the emnetwiht themselves were never able to perfect… That’s who we really are, isn’t it?” “Mm. Your understanding itself is not wrong.” The old man nodded. “But I think it’s a little hasty to describe yourselves as ‘failed.’ Although, I suppose everyone’s interpretation will be different—perceive it as you will, be it optimistically or pessimistically.” It was neither. There was something more important than that. If what this old man said was the truth, then all the things that had been considered mysteries of Regule Aire would be solved in an instant. That couldn’t be right, and it had to be impossible, yet, for some reason, it sounded like it was true. “Why do you know all this?” “I’ve lived a little while, you see,” he answered lightly, shrugging. “If what you just said was true, then that shouldn’t be something anyone alive on this earth should know. Why did you tell that to me, of all people?” “Because I am indebted to you,” he said, a hint of sadness in his smile. “I cannot apologize or go back. I have no right. I suppose this is the least I can do; it’s nothing more than a little self-indulgence for a cowardly and selfish old man.” The old man stood, marking the end of the conversation. “I doubt we’ll be seeing each other again, but this was a precious time.” “Wai—” She hurriedly got to her feet, trying to stop him. At that moment, the wind blew. She thought her notes might fly off again, so she frantically shut her notebook. By the time she looked up once more, she didn’t spot the old man anywhere. “Phewww… I’m poooooped!” Just like a student on her way home from school, Ithea staggered over, her eyes unfocused from exhaustion. Just behind her was Phyr the lycanthrope, her fur covering the complexion on her face. “Whoa, what’s up with you, Rhan? You’re spacin’ out.” “…Who are we? Why do we exist? Where do we come from; where do we go?” “Rhan?” “Once you hear the real answer…it leaves you feeling surprisingly empty, doesn’t it…?” “Rhan? Hellooooo? Earth to Miss Rhantooolk?” Ithea waved her hand in front of Rhantolk’s face. The fork, sitting on the plate along with the half-eaten apple pie, made a small clink. 2. The Brave and the Visitor Elq suddenly collapsed. She passed out on the spot as they were cleaning the guest rooms, like a puppet whose strings had suddenly snapped. “You okay?!” Willem frantically held her up. She was cold. She was barely breathing. She felt like a corpse, and he realized that wasn’t just a metaphor. She was a corpse, and the fact that she’d been walking around like a living being was the true anomaly. If she were alive, she would have a fever, or her breathing would be labored; there would be many other things that could be checked to see how sick she was. But Elq was a corpse, so he had no idea how he should judge the situation. He couldn’t even begin to guess how he could treat her. He didn’t think calling a doctor would help at all. He had no idea what he should do for her or what he could do for her. He took her to her bed and laid her down for the time being. He wasn’t sure if it would make much difference. He felt like a very similar thing happened long ago—or maybe it was just recently. He laid someone who would not wake up on the bed and could do nothing but shiver powerlessly beside them. When he couldn’t bear it anymore in the end, he stood, believing there had to be something he could do and went off to go beat someone up. Ah, crap. If he could tell there was even the slightest possibility that beating someone up right now would change anything, he would’ve done it without a second thought. But it was only times like these that he came up empty on the list of things he could pummel his clenched fist into. “I need a wet towel… Wait, is there any point in cooling her off? What about warming her up instead…? Is she gonna rot?” He stood once he thought of something but then immediately sat back down. He’d been doing that over and over for a while now. Astartos said to him, “Don’t worry about work. Just stay with her.” But staying by her side when he couldn’t do anything to help just made it even more painful. Maybe he should get back to work. No, wait, he didn’t want to leave her. Torn between his two choices, he stared hard at his palm. “Ngh…” Willem heard a groan, and his head snapped up. “Hmm…?” He leaned over her and peered at the girl. He somehow felt like there was more color back in her face. She didn’t seem to be in pain. Knowing there was no problem for the time being, the tension dissipated from Willem’s expression. “Hey.” He forced all the muscles in his face to make a smile before she could see how sloppily his face had relaxed. “You’re finally up, you lazy princess.” “I… Huh? I fell asleep? But what about cleaning?” “You suddenly collapsed while you were cleaning. I was worried.” “Worried…?” “You got super cold just now.” “Really?” Elq tilted her head slightly as she placed her own palm on her forehead. It didn’t seem like she could tell. But of course—she wouldn’t be able to differentiate her own temperature by herself. Willem placed his hand on her forehead in turn. “You’re warm,” she said. “No, you’re just cold. Usually, if you were overworked or strained, it’d be the opposite. You’d get a fever. Your body’s not normal, so I had no idea how to treat you. I thought you might not ever wake up again, so I was real worked up.” “Oh, sorry…” “Right, have a good think about it. So you doing okay now?” “Mm-hmm. I was just a little tired. I feel better after sleeping.” When he heard her say that, he felt his whole body relax. He still had a few questions, like if she should be calling what just happened “sleeping,” but he didn’t have the energy left to push the subject. “I see… Is there anything you wanna drink? Or eat, for that matter? Should I go cut up an apple for you?” he asked gently. Elq gave him a blank stare. “Warm…milk. Some that’s…just a little sweet.” “All right, I’ll get some for you.” He stood right up. “You’re really nice today, Willie.” “I’m always a nice guy.” For some reason, when he responded like that, he made her burst out laughing. “I’m back now.” A sweet scent wafted from inside the pot Willem brought over. He’d mixed a squeeze of honey in with the warmed milk, and there was just a dash of cinnamon powder to top it off. “I cooled it a little bit, but don’t try and drink it all at once, okay?” “But I’m fine.” Elq pouted slightly as she took a sip, then loudly gulped it down. “It’s yummy.” “Right? I’ve got a good grasp of your tastes now.” “Hmph.” She frowned a little at him, probably because she took that to mean she had the taste of a little kid. But either because she knew that’s what she liked anyway or that there was irrefutable evidence in her hand, she didn’t object. “…Um, can I ask you something?” “Hmm?” Willem looked up to her as he filled the empty cup from the pot. “What is it?” “It’s an if. Just if.” “You sure are acting self-important. Just say it.” “If—if I were to die in five days, would you be nicer to me?” “Huh?” He furrowed his brow. It felt like he’d heard those words somewhere before. But more importantly, what was it she meant by saying that? “What are you talking about? Five days? That’s real specific. What’s happening then?” Elq looked like she realized her mistake. “Huh? Oh, n-no, there’s nothing…at all. I’m sorry—forget about it.” She pressed her palm hard against her chest, right where her deep cut was. “Wait, hey, Elq? Don’t tell me—” “I…shouldn’t have asked. I wondered if I was going to end up the same as Chtholly, so I tried something I shouldn’t have.” —Ow. There was a sudden sharp pain deep in his temples. One of his memories had almost surfaced. “I’m really sorry. Just let me rest a little more now.” Elq hugged the blanket and turned away from him. “Got it. I’ll leave the milk pan here, so serve yourself seconds when you want.” Willem left Elq’s room, nursing a slight headache. Willem and Elq’s room was a vacant refurbished space in a corner of the second floor of the inn. He headed down the stairs, the steps creaking loudly as he went. Since the inn was usually without any guests, they typically used the big lounge on the first floor as a little restaurant where one could enjoy light food and drink. He could see Astartos sitting at a small, round table in the middle of the lounge, sipping from a modest flask. “I heard you talking. Is she awake?” “Yeah. Sounded like she was a little tired and fell asleep.” “Well, that’s good.” A genial smile crossed Astartos’s face, and he nodded several times. “—Wait, I thought you said you couldn’t drink alcohol? You said ‘no’ to those drunk customers trying to offer you some before. Was that just an excuse?” “Well no, not entirely.” He smiled sheepishly. “I just can’t exactly handle my liquor. I hear that once I start drinking, I become bolder, because apparently, I’ll go off the rails at the smallest thing. I myself don’t remember any of it, though.” “Yeah… That’s pretty bad.” “My wife and daughter always got mad at me because it was such a hassle to quiet me down. That’s why I avoid drinking as much as I can. This is all I’m having today.” “Ah, that’s a shame. Guess I won’t be partaking this time.” Willem shrugged in a comedic manner, and Astartos smiled and apologized honestly. “I’m kinda thirsty, by the way. Guess I’ll have some tea instead. You want some?” “Yes. Now that I can partake in.” He sure was a cheeky fellow. Smirking, Willem went into the kitchen, scooped some water from the jar into the pot, and lit the crystal stove. “By the way, about Mr. Nils…” “Hmm?” “He had a very kind look in his eyes the day he brought you two here. As he told me to take care of you, he also said, ‘I hope they’ll lead normal lives this time around.’” “…I see.” He could sort of imagine it. Even though they’d conversed for only a short time, he could strangely still understand what kind of man he was. “Neither you nor Elq have normal bodies. And it doesn’t seem like either of you was born with one… Oh, I’m very confident when it comes to judging flesh. I am a troll, after all.” He didn’t need to sound so proud of it. “Both of you have probably led such eventful lives, ones where you’ve put yourselves on the line and come within a hairbreadth of death, and this must be after the end. Both your body and heart are tired. What Mr. Nils said probably meant…if you could lead a different life after all that, then that’s what he’s hoping for you.” “Oh, so he puts on his teacher face when I’m not looking?” “Hmm?” “Nothing.” Willem wasn’t sure what that self-proclaimed master really was to him, but he could tell that the man cherished both him and Elq. And so he was sure that Astartos’s theory was right…or so he guessed. “I appreciate the thought, but I can’t believe he’d say that where I—” There was a prickly, burning sensation on the back of his neck. “—Hmm?” Did a bug land on him? No, that wasn’t it. He didn’t remember this sensation that clung to his skin. But his body knew it. “Is anyone staying tonight?” “Did something happen all of a sudden? Tonight? No, no one’s staying tonight.” “You ever make a lot of enemies?” “I…don’t really remember ever giving anyone cause to come after me, no.” His answer made Willem a little nervous, but he’d take it at face value for the time being. “Then, I guess that makes this a group robbery or somethin’ like that.” A number of hostiles were spread out, surrounding the inn. This was a good target. The inn was aimed at travelers passing down the highway, and it was just a little out of the way. Its larger construction and tidy appearance suggested that it had a fair amount of assets. And to a broke bandit, all the alcohol and food they had in storage must have been very attractive. “Oh? I can’t believe it’s that time of year already.” “I don’t think it has anything to do with the time of year. And why are you so calm anyway?” “These sort of folk start popping up more once spring rolls around.” Come on, these aren’t household bugs. You know that, right? “I don’t mind if you stay here with your tea, Willem. I’ll handle them.” “No, I’m your employee, so I can’t let you do that. I’ll do it, so you drink your…not-alcohol… You’re done with that already—I’ll pour you a cup of tea, so you sit here, boss.” “There’s no need to worry. I’m used to this.” “That’s not a good enough reason—and wait, you shouldn’t be used to this in the first place.” Willem stood. Memories of his past were sealed shut, as they always were. But he didn’t feel any fear or tension in this situation. He instead almost felt nostalgic, like he’d come back to an old, familiar haunt. His previous self must have lived in a frightening world. “I really am all right, though.” “Just stay there.” He cracked his knuckles. The most important thing when it came to silently overwhelming someone was getting a grasp on their breathing. It didn’t matter if the goal was knocking them out or using a knife to off them. As long as there was still air in their lungs, they could make noise just by exhaling. And even if he managed to render them unconscious with a single blow, there was still a chance of them making a sound when they hit the ground. Hence, any assassin with a certain degree of training would be practicing the skill to pinpoint others’ breathing almost every day. “…Maybe I was an assassin with a certain degree of training…” He silently crept closer in the darkness, waiting for his target to completely exhale. He pressed his thumb against his target’s neck, shook his head, and quietly robbed him of consciousness. Willem so skillfully succeeded in his attack that he gave himself chills. He again studied his unconscious target in his arms. First, he was wrong about him being a broke bandit. The semifer wore a military uniform. He carried in his hands a rifle with a long barrel. It was at least clear that these weren’t clothes that regular crooks liked to wear, nor was that a weapon any old crook could get their hands on. “This uniform… Is this The Winged Guard’s?” He couldn’t see the color or form of it very well in the darkness. But for some reason, that’s the hunch he got. “But why’s The Winged Guard got our inn surrounded?” The first thing that came to mind was the possibility that a dangerous individual was staying here. But that couldn’t be the case—there were no guests staying at the inn in the first place. The next thing that came to mind was the possibility that Astartos was actually being pursued by the military… Personality-wise, that was hard to imagine, and yet, he could still somehow believe such a strange theory. In the end, though, he didn’t feel like that was right. It was every city’s and island’s respective vigilance organization’s role to chase after criminals. The Winged Guard was an organization that stood up to the dangers that threatened all of Regule Aire; they lacked the authority to search for and apprehend any offenders. And then, there was another theory: “Is it…me?” Just as that question came to mind, the shutters opened, and the lanterns flickered on, catching Willem on the spot. “Freeze!” He wasn’t sure how or when it happened, but he found himself staring down the barrels of countless guns. He was impressed—the protectors of Regule Aire sure were skilled. Even now, with devices that could snatch his life away in a moment thrust in his face, Willem’s heart was still calm. He felt no fear or menace. “What’s an organization like you guys need from our inn? Food? A place to stay?” “I said freeze!” “Couldja just keep it down a notch? We don’t wanna bother the guests upstairs.” Not that there actually were any guests upstairs, of course. “Target acquired. Will proceed with incapacitation. Requesting permission to engage.” “Granted. Attack!” At the signal, all the figures in the darkness sprang into action at once. Willem decided to leave the reinforcements for later. Instead, he quickly counted the six people he should be fighting. Going up against guns in the darkness was going to be a bit of a hassle, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t deal with them. He would first throttle the two closest to him and toss them into a lantern, destroying it. Without any light, that might cause some friendly fire among them, which should make it easier for him to silence them one by one. All right, good plan. He made this decision with such nonchalance, and just as he was going to put it into action— “No.” —he heard a little girl’s voice, one that didn’t belong in the whole situation to begin with. “Even the whole lot of you doesn’t stand a chance against him.” “I thought I told you to stay back!” “You did. But when you did, I thought I said I would act on my own if the situation called for it.” The speaker stepped into the small space lit by the lantern. It was a small, gray-haired featureless girl. Her expression was hard to read; she wore a simple eye patch over her left eye. “……” He’d seen her before. He’d met her before. Somewhere. No, that wasn’t just it. They had shared something incredibly special. He remembered— “…Rgh—” An electric pain shot through his brain, and he couldn’t help but press against his forehead. “Willem.” So they did know each other. Without a hint of hesitation, the girl called Willem’s name. “Willem.” She called his name again. “Willem, Willem, Willem…!” Every time she repeated his name, more and more emotion seeped into her voice. The girl rushed to him. She tripped over the earth in the darkness a few times as she made a beeline for him. And then— “I finally found you…” —she leaped straight into his arms. She’s so warm, he thought. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to keep my promise. I was scared.” Her slender shoulders, small enough to seem like they would snap if he touched them, were shivering slightly. “…Uhhh…” Unable to either brush her off or hug her back, Willem stood there, unmoving. He was a little jealous of the soldiers frozen in place around him. They were just like him—surprised and unable to follow what was transpiring before them—but at least they didn’t have to worry about a splitting headache. “Do we know each other?” he asked. First things first: figure out what was going on. “Huh?” The girl looked up at him. “Sorry, but I don’t remember who you are at all.” “Wha—?” “WHAT in the WORLD?!” It came out of nowhere. There was a sudden, explosive, voiceless scream right in his ear. Willem stumbled but managed to right himself. Floating there was an odd creature. He didn’t know when it’d shown up… No, it was there so naturally, like it had always been there. It was a large sky fish, with beautiful scales colored red and white. At least, that’s what it looked like. But he knew that wasn’t possible. He could see the fish clearly in the darkness, like it had been cut and pasted there from a different picture. He understood what it was without even having to think about it. It was a hallucination or something of the sort. “Look here, buddy, that sorta thing is way out of line!” The hallucination dove into a furious rant. “Listen, I’m a little too old to pretend I can speak for any young lady, okay? And I may not be a person, but I have too much life experience to be able to say something appropriate here, okay? And I’m so preoccupied with my own family that I don’t really have the mental energy to speak for someone else’s kid, got it? But this here is utterly unacceptable, and as someone who was probably a young lady long ago, I simply cannot ignore it!” “…Uh.” “Be quiet, Carmy.” “I cannot stay quiet! What is up with this guy? Does he just throw women from his past away once he’s done with them?! What a typical piece of trash; he is sooo different from all the stories Elq told me. She really looked up to him, you know, and acted like he was some sort of a fairy-tale knight in shining armor, but here we are and he says he doesn’t remember anything and I honestly think this is an awful joke like has his memory been sealed away or something—?” The hallucination paused its rapid-fire rambling mid-sentence. It gracefully swam toward Willem and poked him on the forehead with its snout. “Oh my. His memory really has been sealed away.” “Huh?” The girl blinked. “And it’s just one part of his memory that’s been so skillfully locked away. I suppose there are still practitioners who can weave together such high-level enchantments in this world today. Sortilege this advanced could completely erase an entire concept from the world if used properly. To perform such a skill on an individual at this minute of a scale is beyond twisted, if you ask me.” “…I apparently won’t be able to preserve my personality if I remember my past. That’s why only my memories that connect to my past’ve been sealed off.” “Ohhh, I see… Wait—” The hallucination recoiled. “You can hear me?!” “Unfortunately.” “You’re kidding me?! I, an ill-fated being, should only be visible to the one I’ve possessed!” “I don’t think it’s all that weird.” The gray-haired girl cast her gaze downward. “Both Willem and I have halves of the same spiritual entity inside us. I can’t explain all the details involved, but that’s probably why.” “Spiritual entity?” The girl didn’t answer his question and instead removed the eye patch covering her left eye. She slowly opened her shut eyelid. Her eye underneath was a vivid gold, entirely different from her right eye. “…Your eye…” Willem unwittingly placed his hand on his own right eye. “I knew it. The color of your eye changed, didn’t it?” “I don’t really know. But you sure do know a lot about me, don’t you?” His headache had grown just a touch fainter as his mind continued to swim. It was screaming in twisting pain with every heartbeat. “Willem, I have to ask you something.” “No.” This girl was someone important to him. And he was the same for her. He was intuitively aware of that fact, and squeezing out just that one word came with a massive amount of guilt. “Listen. They’re going to close the faerie warehouse. I’m not a faerie anymore, but no one knows what’s going to happen to the others. I’ve never seen Nygglatho as depressed as she is now.” His head throbbed. “I said no,” he answered, gritting his teeth to bear the pain. “I decided I wasn’t going to remember anything from my past. That’s why I can’t hear your request.” “…Willem…” “Well, there might not be much we can do.” The hallucinatory fish sighed, despite its lack of lungs. “His sealed memory is preventing the Beast from manifesting. It might sound simple, but this is incredibly heavy-duty work. It wouldn’t be surprising if the seal broke at any moment—and once that happens, we won’t be able to seal it back up. If it were me, I wouldn’t want to have anything to do with my past, either.” “But—” “Asking any more of him is your own selfishness speaking, Nephren. Do you want to be the one to cause Willem here to completely transform into a Beast?” “……Urgh.” The gray-haired girl named Nephren fell silent. She probably still had something to say. She probably still had so many more things she wanted to express. But it all was crushed in the tightly balled fist she held to her chest. I’m sorry. He apologized wordlessly to her. Apologizing probably wasn’t enough to solve this. If past Willem could see him now, he’d probably sock him with every ounce of strength in his body and soul so that his head would go flying off his shoulders. And yet, his present self decided to apologize anyway. “And by the way, Willem. Let’s put the past behind us and talk about the present for the moment—do you know anything about my Elq?” “I do,” he answered readily. This hallucination Nephren referred to as “Carmy”—he recognized that name. Elq had mentioned it before as the name of a family member who was supposed to come get her. “She’s been waiting for you. She’s a little unwell right now, so she’s sleeping up on the second floor.” “Unwell? What?” The fish sounded puzzled. “She’s still a corpse, isn’t she?” “The guy who sealed my memory also took a bit off that enchantment that was on Elq’s body. Said she’s immortal but the closest thing she can be to a real corpse right now.” “Whaaaaat?!” the fish shrieked in hysterics. Well then, it sounded like it wasn’t just Elq’s condition, but everything Nils did was abnormal, even in this absurd creature’s eyes. “I’ll take you to her. She’s been waiting for her family, too.” With the guns still pointed at him, Willem took Nephren and Carmy to Elq. He waited outside the room as the three of them talked and made no attempt to try to eavesdrop. He had no idea what kind of things they were talking about. After about half an hour, only the gray-haired girl and Carmy emerged. “We’ll be heading out soon.” Despite how talkative Carmy had been just a moment ago, she was now much more succinct. “You’re not taking her with you?” “I want to, but she asked for a little more time. She doesn’t demand things for herself, but it’s always times like these that she never listens.” The big sky fish gave a big sigh. “I hate to ask you this after we’ve just met, Willem, but could we leave her with you for a little longer?” “I don’t mind, but you sure? You’re sort of like her lady-in-waiting, right?” “Well sure, putting it roughly. Something like that.” The fish’s expression shrewdly turned uncomfortable. “I’m against this.” Nephren seemed a little grumpy. “I think we should take her away, even if it means putting a collar on her.” “Oh, you’re just being jealous, aren’t you?” “She’s like a little kitten, though.” “At least pretend to deny it, sheesh.” What were they talking about? “We’ll be back.” That was all Nephren said before she started to leave the inn. “H-hey, where do you think you’re going?!” The soldiers chased after her. “Home. There’s no dangerous Beast here.” “Wait! You can’t just leave!” “There’s nothing to leave here. I should be the one in charge of making that decision, shouldn’t I?” “That’s… Damn it, what was the officer thinking?!” The soldiers hurriedly chased after the girl as she boldly made her exit. And with that, their nighttime intruders were gone. “…So exactly who were those guys anyway?” “Just our past catching up to us.” Astartos had his head tilted in confusion, and Willem responded in a forced joking manner. “Was it okay to let them go like that?” “I don’t have a past.” Willem shrugged. “I don’t know about her, though,” he added, looking up to the second floor. “Her family came to get her, didn’t they? What did Elq say?” “Nothing. She told them she was sleepy and to go away, and then she chased them out of the room.” “Is she okay with not going back with them?” “Who knows? I dunno how kids think.” That wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth, either. Elq probably stayed because she didn’t want to leave Willem alone. He was almost sure. But not entirely. And he was deeply grateful for it. “Either way, that’s how it is, so it sounds like I’ll be staying with you here for a little while longer. Thanks again, boss.” “Yes, of course. You’re very much welcome here.” Astartos tilted his head, an odd expression on his face. “I’m not sure how to express this, but do at least live with no regrets.” “I’ll give it a shot,” he responded as lightly as he could muster. He had no past. That’s why it should’ve been the right choice to ignore that girl’s request and turn her down. But it was a right choice that surely made her situation even worse. No matter what he did, it would leave a bitter aftertaste. “…This is just what I’ve heard, but…,” Astartos started. “Hmm?” “But the standard last line in children’s stories and fairy tales is And they lived happily ever after, right? They say it’s so far removed from reality that it could only ever exist in children’s stories and fairy tales. It’s a dream that could never come to life, like magical swords and resplendent castles. We cling to the phrase ever after, ignorant of how empty it really is.” “Wait, don’t magic swords and castles already exist, though?” “Well, now that you mention it, sure.” Despite the interruption, that didn’t seem to discourage Astartos as he thought for a moment. He raised a finger. “In short, we are unconsciously thinking of the words ever after as even more fictitious than all those fantastical objects.” “R-right.” “Time can never stay the same. And eventually, the world itself will come to an end as well. What is important is not only to accept that change will happen but how we use it to face the coming days. No matter how different tomorrow is from today, we can still live on. And so long as we are alive, we can always pursue happiness.” “…Pursue, huh. Sure is an honest way of putting it.” “Even those who are indifferent to that sort of thing understand that happiness doesn’t come cheap.” He shrugged. “You may stay here as long as you like. But when a turning point is upon you, do not hesitate to leave. Because the place where you should live is the very place you are living in at that given moment.” “Got it.” Willem, of course, understood why Astartos started talking about this all of a sudden. His memory could return at any moment. Elq could become nothing more than a corpse at any moment. No matter how much he pushed away his past, no matter how he clung to the future, these days would not last long. If he didn’t accept that, he would probably grow to curse the world and his fate once the end rolled around. He would eventually harbor a hatred for all the things that wouldn’t even allow him to peacefully live his normal days, lacking any outlet for it. Peacefully living out normal days… It was so easy to forget how much effort and sacrifice such a luxurious wish would need. “I got it.” These days would not last long. But at this point in time, they were still going. Astartos, Elq, and the vanished Nils all allowed for them to continue. And so for now, he would just be thankful for the time he had. As he thought about all of that, he took a sip of the tea he’d left out. To no one’s surprise, it was way too bitter and sour after sitting out for so long. The Guard started monitoring Willem from the perimeter of the inn. There were three shifts. The number of people fluctuated depending on the time of day, but there were typically three or four people on duty. They had two main watch points: behind the stone wall on the farm next door and the observation room on the public bridge a little farther away. Both spots were distant enough that no one could keep watch on him with the naked eye, so they’d probably brought in equipment that would allow them to observe him from over a distance. They certainly were hard at work. It was a nuisance, sure. But it wasn’t like there was any actual harm in ignoring them. As Astartos optimistically put it, “The Guard will step in if anything happens, and it feels like we’ve turned a profit when you think of it as a free way to keep the burglars away,” and left it at that. He did accept they were watching out for them that way, so he offered them some coffee once. They gave him a nasty look. He wanted to strike up a conversation and get an answer as to why they were targeting him, but he just couldn’t manage to find the right note. “Guess I can’t interrogate them, huh.” Willem probably could if he wanted to. His body had a lot of strange skills. Massages and assassination-style fighting techniques were just some of them. If he put them to good use, he didn’t think it would be too hard to induce enough pain that could break the will and dignity of the observers without putting a scratch on them. But of course, if he tried it out, his daily life as it was now would completely fall apart. There was no point in that. So he decided to do his best to not think about who he was or why he was being monitored by the military and just live his life. It was an uncomfortable, odd time. He could feel the end of his peaceful days creeping up on him. 3. The Morning of That Day At the time, Nygglatho was being forced to make one of the top-ten hardest decisions of her entire life. What should she have for breakfast—a thick-cut bacon sandwich or milk-stewed chamo beef liver? She already knew the bacon sandwiches here were delicious. The problem was the other option. She wasn’t familiar with the chamo breed of cow. Liver varied greatly in taste from shop to shop. All in all, ordering this would be like its own little adventure. To eat was to live. Choosing what to eat was just like choosing how to live. “Hrrrmm…” Nygglatho stared hard at the breakfast menu, her expression deadly serious. Meanwhile, Rhantolk was thinking. As she stared absently at her own dug weapon, she continued to contemplate how she might put her worries about her youth to rest. Who were they, where did they come from, and where did they go? And naturally, what followed: What were they meant to do? The story about the gods’ fragments was so sudden and outrageous yet so entirely convincing. She understood it, as though something she’d felt deep in her gut for a long time had been translated into words. She couldn’t argue against it. While it may be true, then, what was she supposed to do about it? It was the first time she wanted to be like Chtholly. Chtholly had cast aside the reason she was born as a leprechaun, the reason why she was alive, and, instead, had her own reason for wanting to live. She’d found it herself. She lived as she should. Rhantolk didn’t think it was something she could hope to imitate so easily, but she couldn’t help but feel envious of Chtholly’s strength. Meanwhile, Ithea was reading a book. It was a cheap work of fiction that had nothing to do with the collection in the Great Central Library. She’d bought it just the other day at the bookstore on the corner. It was called Bursting Triad, the newest seventh book in the series that just recently hit the shelves. It was about the same things as the previous books, and it served as an example of what the ordinary should be like. Every character in the book was dedicating themselves to illicit, stolen love, all on the pretext of “true feelings.” It was the times when she read these exaggerated caricatures of stories that she could look at herself and her cohorts objectively—and that’s what Ithea was thinking about. All the romantic relationships in this story were tragic. None of the love found in these pages could ever be happy love, and so no one was happy when these relationships came to an end. Things like that struck an odd chord with her. “Ha-ha!” The heroine of the story had found another partner to cheat with, her sixth since book one. It was a falconfolk man who was a younger colleague of her third affair. He spoke in the very casual, lazy way that Ithea did to give herself more character. “Number six, eh…?” She smiled faintly. “If only I had more time, I mighta been able to slip in there…” At the time, Glick was at the western edge of Island No. 13 at the Elpis Collective aire-port. By all appearances, he was there as an airship pilot hired by a powerful merchant from Collina di Luce. But in reality, he was spying in an attempt to get a grasp on the shift in power dynamics among trading companies and on the movement of large sums of money. It was a request made by someone in The Winged Guard who was of a higher status than even Baroni Makish. The little gray girlie…Nephren said she would be all right on her own, meaning there was no need to force himself to keep watching over her. So he took on the job, saying he’d do anything he could to help. “Don’t really think I’m meant for this…” Even though he was a salvager, someone who’d dedicated his heart and soul to finding the surface’s treasures, he sadly not only had to stay in the sky but also had to keep a watch on others. He had his complaints, but a man could never throw away a job once he’d taken it on. As he looked around him with a tired exhale, he suddenly spotted several faces that caught his eye. A number of bigwig Elpis merchants with homes in Collina di Luce were all making their way to Island No. 13. Was there some sort of big meeting going on here? No, wait—if that was the case, then there would be merchants from other islands, too. Why was it that only traders from one city looked as if they’d made an agreement—no, they didn’t just look like they’d made an agreement but actually did—to pull out and come back here? They almost looked like passing birds escaping a sinking ship. “…No way.” He had a bad feeling. At the time, Nephren was on an airship to Island No. 2. “I met your friend,” the old man said, without a hint of a smile on his dignified face. He had called himself an adviser for The Winged Guard at the meeting with Nygglatho. But he was actually the creator of Regule Aire and its eternal guardian—the Great Sage Suowong Kandel himself. When she thought long and hard about it, it was amazing that she was here face-to-face with such a legendary figure. But she wasn’t as emotionally moved as she thought she would be. It was probably—no, it was definitely because of Willem. She was so used to him that her sensibilities were all out of sorts; she found herself unimpressed with impressive people and impressed with unimpressive people. “My friend?” “I didn’t ask her name. It was a girl with long blue hair and a strong-willed air about her.” “Ahhh.” Nephren knew right away that it was Rhan. “She was a good kid. She was doing her absolute best to live.” “?” She didn’t really understand what the old man meant. It was obvious that all living things were doing their best to survive. You could also probably say something similar about the leprechauns, and they weren’t even alive, strictly speaking. She’d heard that a number of her old companions besides Nygglatho had come to Collina di Luce. But she hadn’t been able to see any of them, and so she was here now. “Did you want to see them?” “Of course. But I understand the reasons why you wouldn’t want me to.” Now that the faerie warehouse itself was garnering all sorts of attention, getting any closer would only make others more aware of her irregular existence. And that ran the huge risk of possibly having adverse effects down the line. But still, if she’d whined and thrown a fit about wanting to see them, they probably could have arranged a secret meeting. But Rhan and Ithea aside, she had a hard time imagining Tiat and Lakhesh keeping quiet about it forever. Well, even if they did manage, she wasn’t so keen on making those girls carry such a heavy secret. “I’m fine as long as they’re doing well.” “Oooooh, how admirable! You’re gonna make this old lady cry!” It was always times like these that the sky fish popped up, and Nephren shooed her away. In the distance outside the window, she spotted a flowerpot made of crystal floating in the sky. “…Don’t tell me that funny object out there is Island No. 2?” “It is.” “Is that where there’s a person you want me to meet?” “It is. I wouldn’t call him a person, though.” She’d read it in a book once—it was one of the very few unexplored areas left on Regule Aire known as The Pith of the World Tree. Hidden inside were the secrets of the entire island cluster. “Well, that’s a presence I haven’t felt in a long time. He sure has locked himself in an exuberant place again,” the sky fish murmured by her ear. Once again, Nephren shooed her away. And at that same time, Willem and Elq had both gone into town to shop for groceries. Mornings started early in Collina di Luce. The cause was none other than the morning food market. Hundreds of open-air stalls were crammed into plazas everywhere. Fresh produce sat in mountains on the stall fronts: beans, vegetables, salads, meats, potatoes, eggs, bread, ice, chicken, spices, rotted foods. And energetic shoppers whose numbers rivaled that of the produce. Willem’s gaze dropped to the shopping list in his hand. He had a lot of ingredients to buy today. Wandering around the stalls without any battle plan would be inefficient, so the best course of action would be to think things through first. “Hey, hey, Willie! What’s that? Is it food?” Elq tugged on his sleeve. She was pointing at a stall with multicolored stones on display. “Dunno if you’d call it food—more like utensils. Some lizardfolk and stuff like to put those in their stomachs to break up their food instead of chewing.” “Ooooh.” He’d never seen her eyes glisten so visibly like that before. “Let me just warn you, okay—don’t think about trying it yourself. The barrier between races is extremely unforgiving when it comes to biological functions.” “Awww.” She looked disappointed, but this was the one thing he wouldn’t let her try, no matter how much she begged. One mistake, and her stomach would be in bad shape. Any more than one mistake, and she would just die. “Then, what’s that? What is that? Can I try that one?” “You know what that is. That’s a tree. That’s not gonna fit in our tummies.” “Awww.” She sounded disappointed, but her eyes were immediately looking around the market for the next interesting thing. It was probably best if they finished their errand quickly, before she picked up on anything too weird. “Oh.” “Hmm?” And just as that thought crossed his mind, Elq’s roaming gaze stopped. What she was looking at wasn’t a market stall but outside of it. It was a regular brick-and-mortar shop—a long-established hat store. When he carefully followed her gaze, he saw that she was staring at a large, wide-brimmed hat on display in the storefront. “Hmm? What, you want it?” Elq was currently wearing hand-me-downs from Astartos’s daughter. She’d also borrowed a hat in a matching color. His daughter’s outfit suited this little girl rather well. But still…if she herself wanted to look good, then he would help her achieve that goal. “Huh? …N-no…” “No need to be shy. If that’s all you want, I’ll get it for you. I’ve got plenty of my salary saved up, since I don’t really use it.” “That’s not it, really! I mean it!” She shook her head vigorously. “I see.” That was too bad, but he wasn’t going to force it if she insisted. He backed down. “Then, we’ll finish our shopping without any detours, okay?” “O…kay.” He began walking again through the throng of people. Elq followed right behind him, but she would sometimes glance back. It seemed the hat was still on her mind. He started plotting—the best thing he could probably do was come back later and secretly buy it for her as a present. It looked like it was going to be a little difficult to act on his own without Elq noticing, but it was worth a shot. By chance…his eyes drifted upward to the sky. He saw a single midsize airship flying slowly above them. That in itself wasn’t unusual. Collina di Luce was originally developed as a city of commerce. There were always a great number of airships coming and going from the aire-port, of course. Be it day or night, it was more unusual to see nothing flying in the sky above the city. And yet, the airship floating in the sky above them now strangely weighed on his mind. Something was off. He couldn’t really explain the uneasy feeling it gave him. Its altitude was oddly low, for one thing. Not low enough to hit any buildings, of course, but it was unusual to see an airship flying so low that he could make out the name of the organization it belonged to on the underbelly. And the name of the organization he saw written there was also slightly off. Annihilation Knights. It was such a stupid name, one he found himself reading over and over. And for some reason, he felt like he’d heard it before. Incidentally, he felt a faint pain in his mind. Did it have something to do with his past? He at least wanted to believe he hadn’t been a part of a group that had such an embarrassing name. “Willie? What’s wrong?” He must’ve gotten lost in thought staring up at the ship. When Elq tugged on his sleeve, he snapped out of his stupor. “Nah, it’s nothing.” He shifted his gaze down to her. “Let’s go. We’ll miss all the good meat if we dillydally; then Astartos’ll be disappointed.” “That’s true.” They laughed. Boom. “—Wha—?” Willem reflexively directed his gaze back upward. Thick black smoke was billowing out from the bottom of the airship, right near the furnace. Just a moment later, someone let out a scream. And then another moment after that, the whole crowd began to scream. It hadn’t been more than a few seconds before full-blown panic erupted. The airship floundered in the air; it was clearly losing its flight capabilities. Anyone could look at it and tell that it was going to fall. Elq was almost swept away in the crowd. “Stay with me!” “O-okay!” He reached out. Their fingertips brushed against each other. They reeled each other in and kept a firm grip on each other. And once again, he looked up. The black smoke was spreading quickly, the airship was dipping even further, the hull started warping under the weight of cargo it couldn’t hold any longer, and the screams on the ground grew louder. Willem saw it. There was a large split in the back of the airship, where the altitude control ballast would normally be loaded. And from that split, something that clearly wasn’t gravel or bags was tossed out into the air. What was that? It was hard to see it against the glare of the sun. He could sort of tell what it was from its dim silhouette. It was something akin to a bunch of ropes. If he had to liken it to anything, it was like a big snake. But instead of scales, it looked like there were countless long hairs sprouting from its body. It was a curious creature. No, it was an object that he wasn’t even sure he could call a creature. And for some reason, bubbling up from deep inside his gut, he remembered its name. “No… That’s…” Elq also saw it and apparently came to the same conclusion. Indeed. He knew that thing well. That thing had given him memories he’d never forget. And even though his memories were sealed away, his whole body and mind were trying to bring them back. This thing had taken everything from him in a dream long ago. “Au…ro…ra…” The word absently slipped from his lips. 4. The Qualities of a Brave The Seventeen Beasts were the greatest threat to all living things. That fact was passed down as obvious common sense, but it wasn’t very well-known what sort of things these Beasts were exactly. There were two main reasons for that: the first being that things shrouded in mystery weren’t very well-known to begin with. And the second being that since those who encountered them typically didn’t come home alive, those who were still alive almost universally never had any experience with a Beast. In other words: The very idea of being attacked by these things itself was not considered a possibility to all those who were alive in the current era. Even if they were all soldiers of The Winged Guard, there would not have been any particular change. Most of the soldiers in the Guard had never seen a Beast in real life, so it was hard to say they were ready for them, much less used to them. Additionally, Beasts were not capable of flight. Timere—the Sixth Beast—could drift in the air, conditions permitting, but that was it. So as long as one never dared step foot on the surface, there was no chance they’d ever see any of the other Beasts. That was why all the knowledge regarding Aurora and the know-how to deal with it was fatally lacking in this place. The Winged Guard command headquarters was in a terrible state of chaos. Reports of damage flew in from every sector. Half were due to attacks by the Beasts, and the other half were caused by the residents’ ensuing frenzy. And the majority were likely either rumors or false. Everyone everywhere felt like they were caught up in a terrible nightmare, which made it impossible to even begin wishing for proper information at the moment. And yet, the upstanding soldiers who thought they should make a move once they got a hold of any information and acted on that idea were simply adding fuel to the fire. “Guess it’s our time to shine.” Ithea rubbed her eyes as she yawned. It was hard to tell what was going on outside from where they were. What they did know was that a Beast had come to the island, and judging from eyewitness information, it sounded like their opponent was Number Two—Aurora. She was sure there was plenty of detailed documentation on Aurora in the material room at the faerie warehouse. However, no one had ever imagined they’d be suddenly thrust into battle with one, so no one took the time to seriously read it. The only exception was Nephren, who would carefully read every word of even the most boring of documents, but she wasn’t here anymore. Still, they never had enough information when going up against a Beast. It wasn’t that big of a problem. “This’s pretty atypical compared with our usual fights. I’m a li’l nervous knowing that this’s a certain someone’s first match.” “Indeed.” Both Ithea and Rhantolk turned to look at Tiat, who was still in her pajamas. She made a funny-sounding squawk. “I-I’m going, too! Please let me come!” As they hurriedly forced Tiat to change, Lakhesh waved her hand about vigorously. “No.” Nygglatho shook her head. “You don’t have a compatible dug weapon yet.” “But you have a sword!” Nygglatho faltered. So she did. In addition to the three faeries’ Carillon—Valgulious, Historia, and Ignareo—there was a fourth sword Nygglatho had been carrying around for good luck. There was no way any of them could use it, which was why it genuinely could not serve any other purpose besides that of a good luck charm. Its handle was still peeking out of Nygglatho’s enormous rucksack. “But—” “I get a bad feeling just holding it. I feel itchy and impatient. I…don’t think I’ll be much help, but I won’t get in the way!” A quick shot of pain ran through Nygglatho’s chest. “No. You haven’t finished your basic post-adjustment training, and I can’t allow you to carelessly get so close to danger. The only time I’ll let you hold the sword is during tests, at most. You know there’s no guarantee you’ll be able to wield it without problem in actual battle, right?” “But!” Lakhesh raised her voice even louder. Then— “Pardon me, ladies,” a man’s voice interjected. Behind them were several men dressed in crisp suits. An orc with a coy face stepped forward from among them. If one squinted, one could see that there were bandages wrapped around various parts of their bodies underneath their suits. “You’re…from Elpis!” There was a flash of wrath in Nygglatho’s voice. “Eep!” “M-Miss Nygglatho, what a coincidence to see you here!” As the men shrank back, the orc somehow managed to steady himself. “It sounds quite terrifying out there, doesn’t it? We came to you because we thought we might, to the best of our abilities, be able to offer you some assistance.” “The nerve…!” Elpis had smuggled a Beast into the islands in secret. That’s what she’d heard. It was very possible this whole mess was their doing. There had to be so many people losing their lives in town at this very moment. The Winged Guard and the city’s security forces were probably doing their best to fight back. But regular firearms and ammunitions barely did anything to Beasts in the first place. And in chaos like this, it was hard to think that they’d come up with a proper battle plan. “You must be mistaken—this commotion was not our doing. According to witnesses, this is apparently the work of a criminal ring called the Annihilation Whatnots.” And he decides to play dumb? She could tell by the look in his eyes that it was clearly a lie. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t look so upset. We’ve come to help today out of pure benevolence.” As though trying to convince her that he harbored no malice, he waved his bandaged hand. “The legal firepower that The Winged Guard can put to use here is, pardon me, no match for those creatures. But today, a ship filled with our own weapons just happens to be docked at the port.” And he deliberately added, “We went through the legal procedures to bring them in, I might add,” as though it was an afterthought. “We were thinking of using them to subdue those creatures.” “You…” Nygglatho understood what it meant for the military of another island to use their weapons in this city. Anyone who’d studied even the slightest bit of history would know. “You would never be allowed to do such a thing! You would be punished by The Winged Guard under the Regule Aire charter!” “Oh, no, you’re mistaken.” The orc’s mouth spread across his entire face in a grin. It was an exaggerated grin, as though he’d traveled all the way here just to tell her that. “We’ve already come to an agreement with the upper management of The Winged Guard.” “…What?” “Oh, and I believe you’ll soon receive word from the Orlandry Merchants Alliance, but, well, I’ll go ahead and tell you first out of the kindness of my heart,” he added, as though pretending like he’d just remembered. “The dissolving of your post and that little hut of yours, as well as a detailed schedule of what is to follow, has already been decided and agreed upon. And of course, that includes the future handling of the equipment that has been kept there, as well.” “That…can’t be…” “Come now, no need to look so sad. A featureless’s expressions are truly hard to read, but the only exception is when they’re overwhelmed with powerlessness. It’s so obvious, I can barely keep back my own smile.” He spread out his arms, twirled about a cane he’d produced from somewhere, and placed onto his head a silk hat that similarly appeared from thin air. “And so, Miss Nygglatho, this city is our stage. I would advise you not to do anything like let your faeries run about. “As for how your cute, precious dolls will be treated once they’re taken away from you… Well, you’re sharp. You know what you need to do, don’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer before he turned around, and though he didn’t outright burst into laughter, he seemed infinitely close to it as the men left for the control room. “…Oh boy. The Guard’s leadership is more rotten than I thought,” Ithea muttered. Tiat raised her head and made a quiet yelp of confusion. “It is entirely possible they went ahead and made a contract without letting us know they were striking a flashy bargain,” Rhantolk added. “I suppose they thought they could take on a little bribe just for a bit of extra pocket change, but now they realize there’s no going back.” Tiat then looked to her and made another, louder yelp of confusion. “I guess it means the Elpis people are confident they can put on a good show and defeat the rampaging Beasts… I’m a little disappointed, but I guess it’s okay,” Lakhesh lamented. “D-d-d-don’t tell me you actually understood that whole conversation, Lakhesh?!” Tiat cried out, flustered. “Y-yeah. I had trouble with some of the more difficult parts, but I guess I got the gist of it…” “Am I the only one who didn’t understand?!” “I-it’s okay. Calm down. I’ll explain.” Lakhesh kept Tiat in check, who looked like she was about to pounce and grab her again. “Ummm, you know about Elpis, right? It’s a country on Island No. 13, and it’s kind of like a distant neighbor to this island, ummm, and it’s like a city-state.” “Yeah, it was the mean country in The Flames of Elpis and the Shadow of Pithos, right?” “Yeah, but forget what they were like in the projection. So Elpis wants to…I think…start a war or something.” “Why?” She didn’t look like she understood at all. Lakhesh glanced over to Ithea. Their eyes met, and Ithea took over the explanation. “There’s a magical effect to wars, where a country can ignore their own problems and put ’em off till later. Let’s just say, for example, that no matter how bad your relationship is with your neighbor, you won’t be fighting when an outside enemy barges in with an ax, right? And no matter how poor or hungry you are, you’re not gonna be complaining about that when you’re worried about killing or getting killed. The presence of an outside enemy covers up internal problems.” Ithea grimaced slightly as she explained such an utterly unpleasant topic. “But when it’s peacetime again, all the problems they put aside just come back. When the outside enemy’s gone, you remember that you’re not friends with your neighbor again. And when that happens, there are only two ways to solve the problem: start a war with your neighbor or start a war with another outside enemy.” “…They don’t think about becoming better friends?” “Sure they do. They just need to find the next person to wage war with. Timere played that role up till a few days ago. That’s why the majority of Regule Aire got along so well. But…once word got out that Timere wouldn’t be showing up for a while, some countries seemed to remember that they actually didn’t like this or that other guy. And Elpis is one of the groups going straight to work. “’S a pretty ingenious way of doing it. If they just openly set out to beat up their neighbor, everyone’d look at them as brutes disturbing the peace of Regule Aire, and they’d be labeled as a new outside enemy. So they changed their approach. They invited in an enemy from the outside and set it loose in their neighbor’s backyard. They go into their troubled neighbor’s yard and gallantly put the enemy in the ground. Their neighbor thanks them and offers their help. And then they live happily ever after.” She clapped sloppily. “So that means even though they were ready to be the bad guys, they’re pretending to be the heroes and forcing other people to pay them back?!” “Yep. Exactly. You sure caught on quick.” “B-but it’s The Winged Guard’s job to be the heroes, right? Other people can’t just decide they want to do that.” “That’s why they made sure to take the backbone out of ’em first. Since the original heroes, The Winged Guard, can’t do their job, then their plan is to rip out the trust that the Guard’s cultivated all this time for themselves by acting all cool when they fight in their place.” “That’s… But…” Tiat fell silent, having run out of questions. Ithea and Lakhesh accepted the reality of the situation and did the same. “Here you are.” With silent movements that didn’t match his enormous physique, Limeskin came dashing down the hallway. “Nygglatho, bring the faeriesss back to the room.” “…Yes, I know,” Nygglatho muttered quietly. “Wait one moment. Don’t tell me you’re going to submit to what they just said?!” Rhantolk stepped in between them. “We are. Thossse are the ordersss from the top, and it iss a way to put an end to thiss danger with the leassst amount of injuriesss.” “But if we want to make sure they don’t get what they want, then we need to be sure that the weapons they forced to work don’t produce the results as intended. And if we go now, we might be able to lessen the amount of damage to the city.” “But there will still be a lot of damage. And whatever damage you prevent might just end up harming you.” Nygglatho’s voice was like the mew of a frightened kitten. “The reason I sent you off to battle all this time was because I had to. Because no one besides you could take your place. And since now that’s not true, I will never, ever put you in danger. But…” A flash of strength returned to her gaze. “But this isn’t that kind of battle. This is just a hunting ground that they made all the preparations for, that they will do all the fighting in, that they will win and gain all the loot from. There’s no reason for me to put your lives on the line for such a selfish display.” “You know that means everything will go the way they want it to, right? Are you just going to keep quiet and let them shut down the faerie warehouse?” “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I will fight them tooth and nail until the very end. But that’s my fight. It’s not something worth risking your life and limb for.” “Mm.” However, Limeskin nodded slightly with an exceptionally calm expression. “Let me asssk you ssomething. Hasss the guidancsse of the wind reached the hollowsss of your heartsss?” “…What?” For the first time in a while, they were greeted by a torrent of incomprehensible lizard speak. “A blade may not choossse itss own battlesss. One who yearnsss to fight on a sspecssific battlefield cannot be called a warrior. One mussst housse the wind within the fingersss that grip the handle, in the armsss that lift one up.” “…Um?” Yep. They had absolutely no idea what he was trying to say. “Ithea.” Rhantolk elbowed her friend next to her and whispered, “You know an awful lot of odd facts. You wouldn’t happen to know what he means, would you?” “I could say the same for you, Rhan,” she whispered back. “You’re studying ancient languages and stuff, right? You’re way more suited to foreign culture than I am.” “It might be my hobby, but I’m no good at it. It’s not helping at all right now.” “And I have absolutely no idea—I’m raising my hands up in defeat right now!” “…Um, First Officer…Limeskin?” Ignoring the older girls’ quarrel, Tiat took a half step forward. “We love this city. Is that not a good reason…? Um, sir?” “Ssshould you perisssh in thisss land, then the next land to be threatened will sssuffer even greater injury. Do you underssstand that?” “I…don’t really, no.” “Oh?” “But if Miss Chtholly were here, I think she would’ve said…‘I don’t care about the next place. Faerie soldiers fight for what’s important. I never want to run when things go bad like this, no matter what…’ Right?” Nygglatho gulped. Ithea let out an odd squeak. Rhantolk’s eyes wordlessly widened. It was only Lakhesh who didn’t seem surprised. “Thosse who follow in the ssstepsss of a warrior will one day, too, grow to be a warrior…I sssupossse.” Limeskin’s throat rattled in apparent delight. “I ssshall grant you permissssion to attack, but do not overdo it.” “First Officer!” Nygglatho was the only one who said anything, a hint of distress in her cry. “What other option isss there? I cannot make them ssstay here nor have them forcsse their way to the front.” “That…might be true, but—” “And more importantly, thisss young warrior hass ssshown usss the wind.” The lizardfolk lightly stroked Tiat’s hair with his great palm. “A whole crowd of people could not tie the wind down, nor would the wind allow it. That isss all.” Just as she’d been told ahead of time, Lakhesh stayed back alone. After getting the biggest hug ever from Nygglatho, she watched pale-faced as Rhantolk, Ithea, and Tiat soared up into the morning sky. It was when they looked down from the sky that they first realized they hadn’t flown at all since coming to Collina di Luce. Viewing the streets and buildings from a different perspective gave them a peculiar exhilaration, like slipping backstage in a theater to get a peek of the cast. It was an odd sensation…like placing a book onto a reorganized bookshelf after an enjoyable read and gazing at the spine from a distance. Once they slightly lowered their altitude, however, they could see that the streets and buildings were marred. Buildings had tumbled down into piles of rubble. In the middle of that was a fallen airship. And in spots around that were people, collapsed, lakes of blood splattered around them. There were those with red blood, blue blood, practically clear blood. The various corpses of various races lay scattered throughout the streets like broken dolls. …It was an objectively horrifying sight. The faerie race lacked a healthy fear of death, and by extension, they barely felt any aversion to sights and incidents regarding death. Even with a number of corpses around them, for example, that still wouldn’t scare them. And yet, of course, in the face of a mountain of unreasonable death, they grew as furious as anyone would. “Ahhh! There it is! That’s the new weapon!” Tiat flailed, her whole body indicating her big discovery. They saw an enormous metal set of armor walking through the street below them. It was huge enough to fit two or three Limeskin-class giants. That meant there had to be a real giant inside, but its movements were clunky, so that didn’t seem to be the case. Several Auroras noticed its presence and rushed to attack. They used their countless fine hairs to instantly slither to the armor’s feet and latched on to its ankles like leeches from a bog. But their hairs, which could pierce through metal when rigid, were all too easily repelled by the armor, and the Beasts all too easily flipped over onto the flagstone street. Just a moment later, a giant war hammer smashed them in two. “It’s…way stronger than I thought it’d be.” “Absolutely. I was just thinking the same.” It was only a few moments ago that they were thinking of Elpis as nothing more than idiots who had grown arrogant when it came to measuring their own strength. They’d assumed that Elpis had a baseless belief that they could absolutely fight and win against the Beasts, which they knew nothing about, because they were so strong. But the faeries been wrong. This metal armor was being constantly coated by venenum kindled by unbelievable strength. And that war hammer was the same. The Beasts couldn’t be destroyed by regular means. They could only take considerable damage from an attack of powerful venenum to disrupt the structures of their bodies. That was the reason why the combination of leprechaun and dug weapon had become essential for taking down the Beasts. And yet, this metal armor was exhibiting venenum output that rivaled that of a leprechaun wielding a dug weapon. “This new weapon could really serve as a trump card against the Beasts…” What bothered them was the source of the armor’s venenum. Venenum was the inversion of life force. The closer someone was to death, the stronger the venenum they could kindle. If this set of armor was just a mechanism with nobody inside, for example, then there was no way it could use venenum in the first place. But it was hard to imagine there was someone of a big, muscly race who could wear armor of that size and walk around with no problem, plus who had such little life remaining that they were able to wield that much venenum. (…This power might even be equal to the amount we get when we open the gates to the faerie homeland…) Opening the gates to the faerie homeland was the name of a phenomenon of self-destruction caused by unstable leprechauns activating venenum beyond their limits. It instantaneously granted them a literally explosive amount of venenum—the heat of which vaporized any Beast that came into direct contact with it. It wasn’t supposed to be something that could be replicated by some combination of technology and physical materials. (How on earth…does this thing work…?) This wasn’t a question that could be solved by thinking about it. It looked like the product of incredible technology that was beyond the comprehension of any layperson anyway. And yet, they still thought about it. They noticed something that looked like a droplet of light spill from the armor’s right elbow. They’d seen that light from somewhere before. While they were still trying to remember where they recognized it from, a Beast bit onto the armor’s right arm, transformed its countless hairs into needles, and stabbed into its target. The venenum defenses weren’t enough. Thousands of needles pierced the steel plates, cracked them, and tore the armor to pieces. “Ah…” What was inside the armor spilled onto the outside. Even though the trio floated far above in the air, they saw it clearly. There was a huge cluster of drops of light, just like the ones they’d seen a moment earlier… And deep inside it… …was something bathed in a soft light blue— “…Huh?” And the moment they thought they caught a glimpse of it, the entire thing burst into motes of light and vanished. Despite losing one of its arms, the metal armor kept on moving. It readjusted its grip on its hammer with its left hand and, not in the least affected by what happened, smashed the Beast that had torn its right arm. “That was—” They saw it for only a moment. They could guess what it might be just from that moment. They weren’t entirely sure what it might be from just that single moment. “It couldn’t…” That was most certainly the piece that served as the basis of the animated armor’s power. It was the most secret of secrets. And if it was what they thought it was, then it could easily explain why the armor was kindling and using so much venenum. —It can’t be. Or maybe it can. But no. That was in complete violation of the island cluster charter. Even if Elpis might gain the right to do so in the near future, they still weren’t allowed to give it a try. Reality and imagination, things she wanted to believe and things she didn’t—all of that jumbled up inside Rhantolk’s head, and for a brief moment, her mind went blank. Meanwhile, Willem was closer to the metal armor than Rhantolk was. And he was in a spot where he could see the inside of its right arm more clearly than Rhantolk could. And so, in the brief moment before it burst into light and vanished, he saw everything—learned everything. Inside the armor’s right arm, countless strings wrapped around her body, held in place by the armor’s rivets, was a girl. She had bright-blue hair. She had the face of a featureless, lacking both horns and fangs. She wore a black mask; he couldn’t see her face. Her body emitted a faint light. Auroras pierced her skin and clung to her entire body; her over-kindled venenum was out of control—both these things were fatal. He could tell at a glance that she needed help. The light grew remarkably stronger. She burst into pieces. She vanished. The girl was nowhere to be seen. She was lost to this world forever. And all of a sudden, Willem was beset by that same painful headache. “It’s an if. Just if. “If I were to die in five days, would you be nicer to me?” A voice. He heard a voice, one that was supposed to be shut away in a tightly locked box and buried deep in the depths of his heart. “Even if you’ll be gone, you wouldn’t want to disappear, at least, right? You’d want someone to remember you. You’d want someone to be connected with you.” “Ah…” His memory was hazy. He could barely recall the speaker of the voice, the face of the girl. The strong sentiment that he shouldn’t was in the way of the regeneration of his memory. “Then, can you make butter cake?” She had clear cerulean hair. Her eyes were deep blue, like the ocean. She was unreasonably honest, considering how hard she found it to be straightforward, so selfish for how she only ever put herself second, such a confusing girl that she even confounded herself—all that meant that there was someone like that with him not too long ago— “H-hey! Ow! That hurts! I can’t breathe! Stop! I’m covered in mud and I have scratches everywhere and I haven’t cleaned myself and everyone is watching— Are you even listening?!” No. The flash of light blue he’d just seen was different from the sky blue in his memory. The life that had just vanished before Willem’s eyes wasn’t hers. It couldn’t be. She wasn’t here anymore. “Yeah… I…I tried really hard…” He wanted to make her happy. He wanted to cling to that desire. He wanted to forget about the past and think only of the present and the future. That was true back then. The same as it was now. In the moment after he made his wish, he lost both the present and the future he so yearned for. “Thank…you.” That light blue he saw wasn’t her. He knew it wasn’t. It was someone else, a completely different faerie. But it was enough. Willem was starting to remember. Chtholly Nota Seniorious. She wanted someone to remember her even after she was gone. “Damn…it…” Who was he cursing when he unwittingly let those words slip out? Himself, the one who’d forgotten her? Himself, the one who had to forget in order to preserve himself? Himself, the one who was at the brink of no return because he had regained those pieces of his memory? Or maybe all of the above? “Willie!” Elq rushed over to him. “Stay away!” “It’s okay. There aren’t any Beasts nearby anymore.” “You’re wrong. There’s one right here!” With a quiet squeak of her leather shoes, Elq froze in her tracks. “Willie, no…” “I can still do it. I think I can still…pull back,” he groaned in response. He wasn’t pretending to be strong. The seal that Nils Didek—why the hell’s that goddamn master of mine still even in this world, looking like it’s no big deal?—cast on him was sturdy, even flexible. Willem Kmetsch was being reduced to a mere Beast. Be it his spirit or his soul, they mixed with the obstructive thoughts that had flaked away from Chanteur and altered his physical form. While his outer appearance was mostly unchanged, his insides were already too far gone to fit within the framework of a normal life. Nils’s seal was like separating the milk and tea in milk tea to stabilize it. That balance wouldn’t fall apart with just a little shake after it had settled. As long as he didn’t stick a spoon in and mix it around himself, then the memories that surfaced would soon fade and vanish. When that happened, he’d go back to how he was not too long ago. He could go back to the lazy days at the inn. That was right. He could still pull back now. So long as he wished he could. “Willie…” “Stay away.” He stood up. He lightly tapped various parts of his body to check the state he was in. He was mostly all right. His field of vision was narrowed from keeping one eye shut, and there was an intense throbbing in his mind as always. But his limbs were working and moving. His bones and muscles were still those of an emnetwiht. He inhaled and exhaled, confirming that his lungs and diaphragm were no different. With everything in order, he should be able to use all the skills that required an emnetwiht form. “Wait—” “Go to Carmine Lake, Elq Hrqstn,” he spat coldly, turning his back to her. “I’ll thank you for sticking with me through this little detour. But go where you need to go.” “But—” “—Please listen to me.” He turned back to look at her and chuckled. “I won’t be able to take anyone with me where I’m goin’.” “Willie!” He didn’t respond when she called to him. He faced forward again. What am I? Willem thought. An emnetwiht. Former Quasi Brave. One without an exclusive Carillon. Second Enchantments Officer of The Winged Guard. Just a decoration. The faerie warehouse manager. The world ended long ago. The book closed on the Braves’ story long ago. So then…what was he doing here? There wasn’t much time left for him to be himself. He had to wrap up all the things he could do while he could. He had no time to lament his imminent departure. Information of a particularly irksome enemy was probably being shared among the Beasts. He thought they’d been scattered all throughout the city, but they started to gather around the metal armor, one after the other. And every time the armor swung its hammer, there was one less Beast. It was outnumbered, but there was a clear difference in power. The Beasts were overwhelmingly irrational enemies, but overwhelming venenum was one of the very few ways one could combat them. As long as it was working effectively against the Beasts, nothing could be considered too strange. The sight of the Auroras eventually vanished. “Man, that thing’s strong.” He had a general idea of what that big ol’ hunk of armor might be. It was a new weapon to be used against the Beasts, created by some military organization. By constantly manifesting an incredible amount of venenum both offensively and defensively, it endured the Beasts’ attacks and enabled it to fight back, even without the amplifications granted by the Carillon. Sure, if they could securely use this thing, then it was a weapon much easier to use than putting swords in the hands of unstable girls. It was truly a big development. If he’d never known what was inside, Willem would have probably wanted one for himself. “Bet it was a pain to develop. If someone’d found out they were doing this before they were done laying the groundwork, all the people involved probably would’ve been shipped straight off to jail.” They probably planned this out very thoroughly. They probably invested a whole lot of time and money to plan it so carefully. The plan itself probably had a development code name that reeked of idealism and adventure, and they probably put a cool-looking identifying signature on the machine itself to match the name. He felt like he’d come across something filled with such deep emotion like this before, too. And back then, he’d shattered the fruits of those labors without a second thought. This was just the same as then. “Sorry. I think it’ll be a bit of a pain in the ass if we let a weapon like you come into use.” He tore away the eye patch on his right eye and snapped his golden eye open. An irritating gray blanketed his entire vision. (…Someone’s an angry Beast, aren’tcha?) DESTROY ERASE RETURN GO BACK DEMOLISH— The intense desire to destroy accompanied an endless fountain of words. But as long as he was ready for it beforehand, he could keep it in check. He could move around in this body consciously as Willem Kmetsch for five or so minutes. Nightingale Sweep. He fell forward as hard as he could, closing the gap between the armor and him in a breath. (This is the only time I’ll agree with you. Let’s turn this guy to dust.) As Willem approached, the armor seemed to recognize him as an enemy. It swung its hammer at him with dreadful speed supporting its insane superstrength. And just a split second after followed an intense gust of wind. (Yikes.) As he watched his bangs flutter before his eyes, he finally took the last step he’d been holding back. It was the ideal distance, just a little more than a half step. He threw himself forward into the air, spun to the side, and used the force from his spin to slam his fist right into the joint of the armor. There came the sound of oil jumping off a hot pan. The venenum, shooting up to an explosive intensity in an instant, was trying to forcefully blow his hand away. He became aware of an intense pain of his skin melting off, his flesh charring. Yet, Willem paid no mind to it, pushing forward to strike with his palm. He twisted his arm inside the armor up until his elbow, grabbed what was in there, and pulled it out, snapping countless suspending threads as he did so. There was a young girl with hair the color of dandelions. Like he’d thought, she had been in a state of overdrive for a while, thanks to her over-activated venenum. There was a faint light emitting from her whole body. She could explode at any moment. “Do you want to rest?” He doubted she could hear him, but he asked anyway. He thought he saw a slight smile cross her face. He touched a finger to the center of her chest, lightly pressing down out of time with her heart. His lethal timing threw her heart out of rhythm, and it instantaneously stopped. If he could stop the flow of her blood, her venenum wouldn’t stay in overdrive. The leprechaun with a name he never knew quietly died. Now, without the venenum to keep operating, the armor froze in place. Willem pulled out another girl who was in the chest area and ended her life the same way. With a quiet puff, the two husks burst into droplets of light and vanished. Still surrounded by the specks of light as they drifted on the wind, Willem stayed silent for a moment, mourning them. He inhaled. Exhaled. He didn’t know those faeries. They didn’t belong to the warehouse, at least. That meant that despite being born on the island cluster, they had never been able to reach the warehouse. These girls had been snatched away and made into parts for a weapon before they could. If only they’d been just a touch luckier, they would’ve been brought to the faerie warehouse just like everyone else… And even if their fate as a weapon itself didn’t change, they could’ve spent such carefree, such happy days there. But that never happened. Willem bit his lip. It was always like this. He had felt this way so many times, ever since he set his heart on becoming a Brave. By the time he’d found someone he wanted to save, things had already passed the point of no return. “……Do it.” He scowled at the armor husk with his right eye, granting permission to the Beast in his heart. With a silent cheer, a part of the biology he inherited from Chanteur came free. It was a state of being that turned the environment around him back to its most primitive form, transforming all the Visitors’ creations—basically anything that wasn’t a Beast or dirt or sand—back to their original state. The Visitors—or rather, the Poteau that served them—took this empty land of sand and created a rich earth from it. And so all the things that were born from that earth would be turned back into dust when reverted to their original forms. Poof. With an inelegant sound, what was once a broken set of armor turned into a mountain of gray dust. The area around him was silent. Of course it was. No one wanted to stay long in a place where ferocious monsters were running amok. The inhabitants of the city were smart, and they were quick. As Willem turned his head to look around, he spotted only a single person. “Rhantolk.” When he called her name, the girl took a few steps forward, as though steeling herself… Yet, she didn’t bother getting any closer. The Carillon in her hand, Historia, was giving off a faint glow, indicating it was ready for battle. Impressive. The faeries were children in substance, so they all tended to be straightforward. Once they got close to someone, they ran the risk of never doubting anything they did or said. And he got the feeling that unlike the rest of them, Rhantolk was one of the few who could make more levelheaded judgments. Even now, she still kept her guard up when she saw him, cautiously aware that something was off. …He would just forget about the possibility that she simply hated him to begin with. “Since you’re here on the island cluster, that means the Plantaginesta got back safe, huh? I was real worried. Why’re you here?” he asked. “What are you saying? I was just about to ask you the very same. It’s been quite a while since I saw you last, Officer.” “Sure has. You alone today?” “Hey, who knows? Someone might be hiding nearby.” Well then. She wasn’t concealing how wary they were of him. She was even using it as a bargaining chip to keep him in check. She was a very collected, clever girl. In his normal state, Willem would’ve easily been able to tell how many faeries were nearby. The uncertainty of an ambush would never work in a negotiation with him. But now, bearing this constant headache as he spoke, things were different. “Does the talk of the faerie warehouse closing have anything to do with this guy?” he asked, lightly kicking the mound of sand. “Where did you hear that from?” They’d talked about it when Nephren paid him a visit. He hadn’t concerned himself at the time, since he had no memory, but thinking back on it now, he understood exactly what he’d ignored. “A lot’s happened. Well?” “You’re correct. The Elpis Air Defense Force has been plotting to take away the rights to fight the Beasts from The Winged Guard, and they’ve been touting that thing as an even stronger weapon than us.” I see. The answer was mostly in line with what he was expecting but, at the same time, more than he had foreseen. It was easy to tell what that military was plotting. But now that they’d created such a strong weapon in reality, it would be hard to stop them. Oh, wait. That wasn’t entirely true. It was hard to call it a smart way of doing things, but there was a way of dealing with it. (…Gh—) His headache was getting worse. His remaining time was ticking down as he stood here. There was no more time for Q&A. “I have a question for you. What have you been doing all this—?” “Sorry, but I’m gonna have to turn down all nonurgent requests. I’m gonna answer what’s probably the biggest question on your mind right now.” “Wha—? Ah?!” Rhantolk took a huge leap backward. At the same time, the lamppost, the bench, and the sign right by where she had been standing just a split second earlier all transformed into dust then crumpled to the ground. “That power… Don’t tell me you’ve actually turned into a Beast?!” Willem smiled. “A subspecies of Chanteur. I guess.” “No—” “The Beast inside me is just a massive ball of desire to regress. It wants to take back the world it once lived in. That urge directly translates to wanting to destroy the world as it is now.” “But—” “Do you know how hard it is to live in a world where your home no longer exists?” Rhantolk gulped. “So let’s put questions aside now. It’s time to begin, oh great protector of Regule Aire—” He cut himself off and leaned forward slightly. He utilized the structure of his physical form to its limit, falling forward as fast as he could. It was one of the greatest heights of wisdom that the emnetwiht weaved together and rested their destinies on. Nightingale Sweep. He caught Rhantolk off guard, twisting his body and closing the distance between them in a moment too quick for her to react. Anything she could do wouldn’t be fast enough. He was confident she was dead. The remaining space between them could be covered in just a little over half a step. He turned. He aimed precisely for the vital spot in the center of her chest, the same spot he’d used to kill the previous two, and after passing briefly through her blind spot, he readied his fingers to pierce— But he was stopped. A single great sword had been thrust in the slightest of gaps between Willem and Rhantolk. A flash of heat ran through Willem’s fingertips. Rhantolk’s bangs fluttered. Carillon Valgulious. “Dunno if I like that just the two of you’re goin’ at it!” She was right beside them. Ithea, who’d rushed over without him noticing, had her eyes narrowed, her normal smile spread across her face. “Couldja let me join in?” “Sure, but I’m not goin’ easy on you.” “Nya-ha-ha, hearing you say that makes it easy enough for me!” Ithea twisted her wrist. Valgulious’s blade drew an odd, sharp angle in the air, aiming to pierce Willem’s neck. When he ducked to dodge it, he saw the sword was now somehow coming straight down on his head. “Whoa!” He rolled backward, just barely escaping the attack. “I’ll be da— You dodged it!” Ithea remarked dryly. “Impressive. I’ve never missed in battle with that one.” “I bet.” The corner of his mouth twitched. A drop of sweat rolled down his cheek. He learned in that moment that he could still sweat, even after turning into a Beast. “An inertia-controlling surprise attack right off the bat… You’re seriously not pulling any punches, are you?” “I mean, I’m actually pretty serious about’cha, Officer,” she said, a hint of jest in her voice as she immediately followed up with another attack. He barely felt any force coming from the venenum in her blade, but that didn’t necessarily mean he would walk away unharmed. “Hol… Hold on, you two! What are you doing?!” A good several seconds too late, Rhantolk cried out. “Can’t you tell? I’m receiving the officer’s love and affection!” “That’s not somethin’ you should say while you’re attacking me!” “I’m not here to listen to your jokes!” “Jokes?” The back of Willem’s hand sent Valgulious flying off to the side, and Ithea wavered—or at least, that’s what he wanted to happen. Instead, she deftly kicked off the flagstone street and leaped into the air, rolling back to put distance between them. “I’m not making any jokes. Rhan, don’t tell me you still don’t get why the officer’s doing this!” “…What?” Willem clicked his tongue. “Y’don’t have to say any more than you need to.” Still on one knee, Ithea kept talking. “He’s givin’ us a duty.” “I said, you don’t have to say it.” “We were the last and strongest bastion that kept Regule Aire safe from the Beasts. That label is what got us sent us off to battle, but it also protected us. That big armor boy was good proof of that. I knew right away exactly how the guys from Elpis wanted to put us to use.” In truth, that technology was nothing to sneeze at. The developers of that armor had figured out how to open the gates to the faerie homeland while controlling the massive amounts of venenum released as the faeries went into overdrive. They were treating it not as an instantaneous explosion but as high-output fuel that would last as long as the weapon was in operation. While the fate of the faeries stayed the same, they were much easier to use as weapons this way. “That’s why he’s trying to give us back the title one more time.” Ithea averted her gaze slightly. “That big armor thing was absolutely no match for the officer—for this Beast. If we can kill the Beast, then that’ll show everyone they can’t ignore a leprechaun’s tactical worth. At least, Elpis’s expectations will fall completely off the mark.” “Ah.” Rhantolk let out a small noise but then covered her mouth with her hand. Ithea stood as she wiped the corners of her eyes. “…This idiot’s putting his life on the line ’cause he wants to keep the faerie warehouse safe.” “You really didn’t have to spell it out.” His plan didn’t require them to understand. If he had simply fulfilled his role as the Beast, as the evil they needed to defeat, then everything afterward would’ve gone just fine. “…Hey, you guys. Do you like the little ones at the warehouse?” “Sorry?” Caught off guard, Rhantolk widened her eyes. “What?” Ithea tilted her head. “Are you fighting with your lives on the line to protect them?” “Tha…” Rhantolk’s face flushed a bright red. “That doesn’t matter!” Willem burst out laughing. “Hah… Ha-ha-ha!” He missed them. Oh, how much he missed them. That was right. Once long ago, he asked Chtholly the same thing. And the answer he’d heard from her back then was the exact same one that Rhantolk gave. “Oh man, you guys! Really, you guys have no idea—!” —How much he cherished them. It all came back to him—memories of what it was he was trying to do in this world. He no longer had a battle here in this world. But there were those fighting with the same feelings in their hearts as he and his companions once had. The least he could do was support them. He would make sure it was them—instead of himself, a man who never saved anyone—who would carry out their wishes to protect the people they loved— “—Let’s go.” Willem couldn’t use venenum now. Venenum was the inversion of life force. The closer someone was to death, the stronger the venenum they could kindle, and the stronger that force was, the quicker they were being pulled toward death. Viewed from a different angle, those who were strangers to death were not compatible with venenum. People born into hardy races like Limeskin and Nygglatho could not even produce it in the first place. Willem’s body was now no longer that of an emnetwiht. It was doubtful if he still even had a future that included the ending of death to begin with. That was why. And of course, he was bare-handed. The only weapons he could use were the martial arts he’d learned and freeing his true nature as a Beast to turn his opponents to sand. And since the faeries didn’t strictly have physical bodies, the latter might not even be very effective against them. In practicality, the only thing he could rely on was his own techniques as a person. It would be a hard fight, but he would put his all into it. And this time, he would finally put an end to his own battle. He slid his body forward as he inhaled. Haze Step. Ithea must have sensed the danger—she suppressed the area around her by releasing an arc of lightning from her sword. He slipped through the whole thing and came up right beside her. He spotted Rhantolk start moving just a moment later, but she wouldn’t make it. He aimed for Ithea’s chin with his right elbow and her side with his left fist. She let Valgulious go. Releasing a heavy object mid-swing would obviously cause anyone to stumble. His elbow and fist just barely missed their marks. Ithea reached out and grasped Willem’s hair. She pulled hard, bringing his whole head into her chest. The layer of venenum around her made her incredibly physically strong, and he couldn’t jump out of reach. “Rhan!” Ithea called. “Hurry!” “Urgh…” Though she still seemed hesitant, Rhantolk moved to do what she needed to do. She extended Historia forward, and its tip thrust straight into Willem’s stomach. The venenum-tinted blade ripped his flesh apart, sinking deeper and deeper into his abdomen. Rhantolk’s expression twisted on the verge of tears. The strength faded from her arms. “…Ah…ah…” “Is that all?” Willem pressed his fist against Ithea’s chest. He forced the blow through her venenum defenses. He crushed her lungs, and Ithea fainted wordlessly in agony, the strength dissipating from the hands that held his head in place. “Ithea left two things out when she was talking earlier. If you’re not strong enough, then you will all be destroyed, and that’s the end. I know you hear it a lot, but it’s way better to die now than suffer later.” He tossed Ithea away, grasping Historia’s blade as it protruded from his stomach. “And the other thing—I’m already a Beast. My sense of self that’s keeping me here chatting like this is gonna vanish soon. If you can’t stop me now, then Island No. 11 is gonna fall.” Rhantolk’s face twisted in even further pain, and she pulled Historia out of him. The blade was wet with red. She held it up above her head. Her movements were slow, full of openings. He could strike at her wherever and whenever he wanted. —Is this an invitation?! He threw his left fist and extended his right foot in a kick. Neither was a serious blow—since she’d given him an invitation to attack, it was just an invitation in response to draw out Rhantolk’s real motives. As a result, she twisted her body, forcefully dodging the trajectory of his follow-up attacks, then placed all her momentum into Historia and followed through. A torrent of wind with the sharpness of a guillotine blasted across his neck. “I see.” Willem managed to slip behind Rhantolk with clingy, slimy movements and whispered in her ear. “I’m glad to see you stopped hesitating. But y’know, if that’s how you attack after you go all out, then there’s no way you could ever kill m—” “Taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” Right by his ear came a cute yet powerful battle cry from the third faerie. —Hah? Tiat. Oh right. I forgot. The one who took her to this city for the first time was none other than Willem himself. This girl was a faerie soldier, too—a protector of the island cluster, with Carillon in hand, the legitimate successor of the Braves. —Ignareo! The Carillon that Tiat had, Ignareo, wasn’t a high-class blade by any means. It was a plain sword, one that was just a shade more capable than those that were mass-produced. Its characteristic talent was also one that had only so many uses—to become unnoticeable. —And she’s already putting it to use? Man, she’s growin’ up fast! But of course it turned out this way; he’d been focusing all his attention on Ithea and Rhantolk. His never-ending headache hadn’t helped, either. Still, the fact that Tiat had gotten this close without him noticing was worthy of praise. The sword’s ability didn’t come naturally once the blade first rested in its wielder’s hand. She would’ve had to spend quite a long time facing her own sword in earnest to even begin to get the sense of what she had to do and what sort of effect that would produce. This girl would be a wonderful soldier. That’s right—he remembered that cyclops doctor saying that once upon a time. He had been absolutely right. She did just that. Doc was a smart one. But she wasn’t quite close enough. He thrust Rhantolk away and turned to face Tiat. She had the spirit; she had enough determination; her movements weren’t clouded by hesitation. But she was hopelessly lacking in physique, in strength, and in technique and experience. Whether or not she succeeded in a surprise attack, she was giving Willem Kmetsch enough time to counterattack, which meant there was no hope left for h Thoom. “…Huh?” An enormous blade stuck out from Willem’s chest. He knew the shape of this blade. It was one of the oldest Carillon—Seniorious. —No way— Chtholly? His mind muddled with vague confusion, Willem tried to turn back. His body was stiff. With great difficulty, he turned his head around. “Ooh… W-wah…” There he saw a face, sloppy from crying. He knew that face well. And it was one he hadn’t anticipated at all. “La…khesh…?” “Waaah… M-Mister…Willieee…!” Why was she here? She should still be too little. …Oh, wait. That wasn’t true. Kids grew up. You take your eyes off them for a second, and they change completely. New strength had been growing in the faerie warehouse while he was away. “…Ha-ha.” He was so happy. The broken souls of children who’d supported this dying world—they really were strong. Much more than he—who’d spent all his time lost—would ever be. He wouldn’t need to worry about the future. Even if he wasn’t around, even if he couldn’t do anything for them, they’d be okay. After a whole tale of redundancy after redundancy, he could finally put an end to the story of the failed Brave Willem Kmetsch. “Good. You barely did it, but you passed.” He chuckled. Blood poured from the corner of his mouth. “Oh, but Lakhesh? I can’t give you full points based on how you’re using Seniorious so far. If you’re going up against an immortal being, you need to actually use it as an immortal slayer. Seniorious is seriously crazy—it succeeded in keeping the Visitor Elq Hrqstn sealed up for five hundred years, y’know.” “Huh…?” “Watch carefully. This’s how ya do it.” He placed his palm on the blade. The Carillon heightened its venenum in response to the power of the opponent it was fighting with. Even though Willem couldn’t produce any venenum as he was now, the inside of Seniorious was overflowing with more than enough power. That was plenty for Seniorious to work its miracles. He plucked at the veins of enchantment that ran through the blade, one at a time. A quiet sound filled the air, almost as though he was playing the harp. Together, the sounds became notes and began to perform a clunky lullaby. Seniorious, considered ancient even among the Carillon, was said to be one of the proudest of the abundant holy blades. The reason for that was because there were very, very few people who could wield it. Explained properly, these were the requirements to use Seniorious: Only those without a home to return to, those who’d given up on going back to the place they wanted to, those who’d already cast away their own futures could earn the right to wield Seniorious. It wasn’t someone tragic. It wasn’t someone who’d surpassed tragedy. It wasn’t someone without hope. It wasn’t someone who’d given up on hope. Only those who accepted that they would never reach the future they so wished and hoped for could take the sword in hand and aim for a different future. The cracks running along the great blade spread farther. A faint light spilled from the spaces in between. The characteristic ability of the greatest Carillon in the mortal world revealed itself. Its power to turn any and all things into the dead made no exceptions for immortal targets. The faint light slowly weakened then vanished. “Officer…?” Rhantolk murmured quietly as she raised her head. “Willem…?” Tiat called his name in a daze. She still held Ignareo high above her head; there was no one to bring it down on. “Oooh… Waaaah…” All Lakhesh did was muffle her own voice and burst out in sobs. You big dummies. He couldn’t speak anymore, so he just smirked to himself. You won. You eliminated the dangerous Beast and protected the islands. You’re heroes. You proved your worth. You secured all your futures with your own hands. So be happy. Be happy for me. Start crying now, and you’re just gonna forget why I’m dying here in the first place. This is all Ithea’s fault. She just had to go and expose my tricks. My plan to play the perfect villain went up in flames. Ahhhh, crap. I could just never do anything right, could I? Why’s it that everything I try never ends up going well? —That’s okay, though, right? It’s very much like you to always be trying your hardest. He thought he heard her giggling at him. There was no way he could hear that voice. He knew immediately it was a hallucination. But still. He was happy he got to hear her voice in the end. (……) There were so many things he wanted to say to her. So many feelings he wanted to share with her. But he didn’t have either time or energy left to do that. And so— (Thank you.) —at last, he murmured that one phrase silently in his heart. Fwoom—his vision went dark, like a curtain had dropped. A feeling of weightlessness enveloped him. It felt like he was endlessly falling. He plunged into the surrounding blackness—far, deep, and heavy. Down, down. —Island No. 2. Nephren suddenly whirled around. There, she saw an odd garden that looked like a bizarre mishmash of the seasons. And beyond that was an endless blue sky. “What is it?” the Great Sage asked, but she didn’t answer. Instead— “…That idiot,” she whispered. —just one small, lone tear trickled down her cheek.