What was “moral” in a given place depended on the values of those who lived there.
For example, morality could differ wildly between a theocratic country and a democratic country. Things considered completely normal in the former could be seen as bizarre the moment you crossed the border to the latter. That was to say nothing of the fact that this wasn’t just another country but another world, and one where civilization was nowhere near as advanced as on Earth, at that. It should’ve been obvious that shared values would be completely different here.
The ideas of morality you’d see in Earth’s advanced nations were nothing like those in the outlying areas of this world’s small nations. Here, revenge killings were effectively legal.
The Inquisitors were foreign spies who’d brought considerable harm upon the Magic Kingdom of Solistia. That was before you even considered the fact they’d killed innocent people for fun.
If not for Ukei, Zankei, and Senkei, every last villager here would’ve probably been dead by now. And speaking up for the perpetrators for reasons like “but the law says...” and “human rights are...” seemed simply naive.
“Tell me,” Zelos said, “have any of you killed a bandit before?”
“I... Yeah. I have,” Ado said. “The guilt was just horrible...”
“Us two, we—” Lisa stammered.
“We haven’t,” Shakti answered for her. “Ado’s dealt with them all. Lisa and I haven’t killed a single person.”
“Naive,” Zelos replied. “If you can’t kill to protect yourself, you will die the second things turn south. This is a world where brutal violence isn’t just overlooked—it’s the norm. You’d do well to remember that—and to prepare yourself for what that means.”
Heroes and reincarnators alike found it difficult to break free from the notions of common sense they’d had in their own world.
The problem wasn’t that those notions were wrong. It was just that they were too advanced to be of any use in an underdeveloped world like this one.
Perhaps they could be useful as a reference for legal reform—but even if those reforms were passed, people would still need education and time to reflect. This wasn’t like Japan, where police were always nearby to maintain the peace. There were soldiers, but stationing them all over the country wasn’t cheap.
Nor did this world have things like scientific evidence or courts, where you could bring a lawyer to appeal for a reduced sentence.
“From what I’ve heard,” Zelos said, “one of the summoned heroes was under the impression that he was this world’s protagonist. He went around slaughtering people wherever he went, and then, when he got caught, he was executed. Apparently, he made a real fuss—his excuse was something like, ‘I’m the hero! I’ve been protecting you, haven’t I?! Why the hell are you gonna execute me?!’”
“Sounds like an idiot...” Ado said.
“I’m guessing that just because he could see his stat screen, he got the wrong idea and thought he was in a game. People say that even in his final moments, he still saw everything as a game; his last words were things like ‘Kill me if you want—I’ll be back!’ and ‘The next time we meet, I’m killing you all!’”
“What a nasty story...” Shakti said. “But if he could feel pain, why didn’t he realize it was reality?”
“Maybe he thought it was, like, virtual pain?” Lisa offered. “I don’t know what world he came from, but it’s such a ridiculous story...”
“Some of the heroes just think, Damn, I’m OP! No one can beat me! In fact, I met a hero exactly like that,” Zelos said. “But I got the impression that being called a hero, specifically, was what made him dance to Metis’s tune.”
As Zelos saw it, the overlap between the heroes and Ado’s party was that neither saw the world as it really was; both were too caught up in their Earth notions of common sense.
They lacked the proper awareness that they were living in a world where violence was considered acceptable.
“Anyway, where exactly are those coccos of mine...” Zelos muttered.
“You’ve gotta be the most adapted to this world out of all of us, Zelos,” Ado said. “You’re way too used to violence.”
“Nothing fazes him, does it?” Shakti said. “But personally, I don’t want to get used to an environment like this.”
“Me too,” Lisa echoed. “At the same time, though, I get that we have to be able to kill people if push comes to shove. As much as I don’t want that to happen.”
Unlike in Japan, violence was just part of life in this world. Being able to defend yourself was crucial if you wanted to stay safe, and here, people killed each other on a daily basis. You had to fight to survive.
But Lisa and Shakti were the same as Iris; they hadn’t yet fully adjusted to their new environment.
“I won’t tell you to get used to killing people,” Zelos said. “But you need to at least be prepared to do it—or you’ll simply die if you end up in a kill-or-be-killed situation. You can probably think of this world the same way you’d think of Japan’s Sengoku era. In other words, I’d recommend keeping in mind that carelessness could get you killed here.”
“Feels like this whole world’s full of evil people, monsters, the works...” Ado said. “The real hardcore players are about the only people who could get used to this, right?”
“Oh, yeah, I could definitely see that being the case,” Zelos said. “There are plenty of people out there whose minds would just stop at, Hey, this is a fantasy world! And those people will do something stupid, sooner or later.”
Outsiders’ fates could be determined by how good they were at recognizing and accepting the nature of the world they were in.
Zelos had made gathering information his first priority when he’d arrived here. And Ado, upon being welcomed as a guest of the state, had been similar, using libraries to gather whatever information he could.
Most individuals whose reaction was simply “Woooooo! I’m in an isekai, baby!” would be taking this world too lightly. It was hard to imagine those people surviving for very long.
“So, what—we should treat it like we’re employees sent to some branch location in a conflict zone?” Shakti asked.
“Oh—yeah, I see what Shakti means.” Lisa nodded. “It’s that feeling that you never know where trouble might be lurking, that if you’re not careful, you could get kidnapped by terrorists—that you could get shot dead at any moment... It’s scary, isn’t it?”
“Stay away from the most dangerous places and we should be fine—though I guess it’s hard for us to know what those places are,” Ado said. “I guess us reincarnators and the heroes are the same in that we grew up used to peace and now we’re out of our element.”
The heroes had swallowed the information they were handed about the world hook, line, and sinker; the reincarnators were more inquisitive, but they’d still need time to adjust to the world.
It had already been over five months since they’d been sent here, which was enough time to differentiate the wiser reincarnators trying to live in this new world and the dumber ones still behaving like they were in a game.
Ado and Zelos had started working to strike back at the Four Gods and their devotees, while Iris and Eromura were doing everything they could to adjust to their new lives here. Then there was Sharanla, who’d completely integrated with this world’s version of the underworld.
It was frightening to consider what path other reincarnators might’ve taken.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to trust anyone outside of the people I know—even fellow reincarnators,” Ado said. “Complete strangers are scary. No idea what they might be scheming.”
“Personally,” Zelos said, “I just try to live by my motto: ‘A quiet life’s a good life.’ I’m just your average Joe who happens to get some jobs from a ducal house.”
“What part of you is average?!” the other three cried.
One way or another, Zelos always seemed to get his neck stuck in all kinds of trouble.
Maybe somewhere, deep down, he enjoyed being in another world.
“Caw?” (“Is it time to retreat, Leader?”)
“Oh. Senkei. Where are Ukei and Zankei?”
“Ba-ko-ko.” (“I believe they should be returning soon.”)
“We’ll be making a detour on the way back. By the way, have you cleared out the monsters around here?”
“Bok-a-bok, ca-baw.” (“We’ve just about routed the largest foes. Only the weak fodder remain.”)
“Well, that’s good to hear. Hmm... I suppose none of the monsters in these parts were a match for you, then.”
They’re having a conversation... the other three thought. Who is he, Steve Irwin or something?
Somehow, Zelos was having a full-on conversation with Senkei.
To the others, it just looked like a lonely middle-aged man having a one-sided conversation with a bird.
Quite the sad sight, really.
Before long, Ukei and Zankei returned, and Zelos loaded the three coccos into Ado’s kei car. Then the party set off once more, toward the village of Hasam.
The village that had been taken over by the Inquisitors devoted itself to a faith based on sacred beasts—and before long, Zelos’s three coccos were formally recognized as sacred beasts themselves.