Chapter 148

—yes—with one look from Shiro, Jibril, and Emir-Eins, Chlammy burst into tears. It was this atmosphere, which even put Fiel into a life-or-death state of mind!! The heart could never go aflutter amidst this malevolent, hostile silence. It would be more likely to sto “Oh, man! Sorry, Emir-Eins! I forgot to ask you to go take care of the crops. Sorry, but—” Sora cried out, searching desperately for an excuse to escape the situation. But Emir-Eins smiled back gently. “Interrupt: Anticipated. Completed at 15:01. This unit will remain on standby by Master’s side. Ahhh.” She thrust despair in his path. However… “…Apology: Yet incomplete. One remaining crop: Could not determine whether to pick—” “All right, let’s go get it! Hey, I’ll go myself! Shiro, come on! Okay, what crop is it?!” Sora literally scooped up Shiro under his arm and started running. But Emir-Eins’s reply— “Reply: Only head protruding from Earth. Small Ixseed. CultivarDwarf.” made him frown: Huh? Ixseed Rank Eight, Dwarf… A higher race, with magic aptitude just below Rank Seven, Elf’s. The race lived in Hardenfell, second-greatest country in the world, in both size and power. And in the production of magical tools—machines using spirits—none of the other Ixseeds, not even Elf, could rival them. A well-known race of which they’d heard many times, and which they’d even seen on the monitors of the Eastern Union. But… “…Let me just check. Dwarves aren’t something you pick out of fields, are they?” “…Is this world, faithful…to the classics, that say…they’re created, of earth…?” In a corner of the field, there it was, sticking out next to the lettuce they’d planted on a whim. A head, with brown skin and silver hair slightly peeking out from under a hood. Sora and Shiro looked quizzically at it. They’d never heard of such a thing. Jibril was less cautious. “My, I don’t recall planting such unusual seeds as Dwarf seeds—what’s this?” She pulled out the presumed Dwarf—and a slip of paper fell. Sora and Shiro casually picked it up and looked it over . “…Hmm. A Dwarf came all the way from Hardenfell to visit you…‘just medicine sellers.’ Some timing, isn’t it? I wonder what this could be about?” Chlammy ironically prodded them for the truth. Sora just barely managed to answer with a smile. “We’re medicine sellers, so it’s got to be about medicine, right? We’ve been waiting. It’s just…” Looking back at the piece of paper, Sora stopped smiling, as Shiro looked down. No address, no sender—no. There was a terribly stupid-looking signature, and there was some extremely sloppy Immanity script that looked as if it had been written by a child. Just one short, concise line, scratched insistently and brutally. It’s me. Gimme the drugs, on credit, ya outsiders. “…Seems like this customer might be tougher than we expected…” “…………” Countless memories flooded the minds of Sora and Shiro, outsiders to this world. Things they’d turned their backs on as they ran from and trampled over everything. Their past was catching up to them to collect on the tab they couldn’t pay. Yes…flashing about in their heads as their hearts creaked in pain……