Their replies had me confused. They acted like I’d just asked something utterly inconceivable. In the meantime, Potesara said, “Landmakers are special, you see? We normal folk don’t even consider striking out into the dark of the dungeon. You’d have to be a foolhardy sort, like a band of mercenaries or merchants, an adventurer or a salesman… Otherwise, the only thing on your mind would be to get to the nearest nation and try to live in relative safety.”
Savakan continued, “And even the foolhardy ones seldom decide to take charge of others and make a nation. That’s why Landmakers are so special, and why everyone wants to follow them.”
I returned my gaze to Mizuho. Compared with the well-built Potesara and Savakan, she was much shorter and more slender.
“Are you one of those, er, foolhardy types, too, Mizuho?”
“Taiga, that child was born into a family of storytellers. Her clan has always traveled the labyrinth, moving with armed caravans and such. You’d do well not to underestimate her.”
I gave a surprised look. Mizuho narrowed her eyes a little as a subtly confident grin spread on her face.
“Does that go for Troach, too? She’s, well…”
It seemed a little beyond the norm to have someone imprisoned for theft as part of a court. Still, I hesitated to say as much in front of her.
Realizing what my stammering signified, Mizuho said, “The act of stepping forward to be a Landmaker holds an important meaning in and of itself. The words alone are enough that dozens of people will be willing to follow you.”
“Yeah, that’s right! I’ve been working alone this whole time. Despite what you may think, I’ve gotten through some pretty rough situations myself.”
“Indeed. I haven’t forgotten how you snuck into my room or what you tried to do to me, of course, but that is a separate issue.”
“I told you, that was a misunderstanding! Well, part of it anyway. But still…”
Ignoring Troach’s excuses, Mizuho continued, “This actually isn’t a bad deal for you, either, Taiga. You know next to nothing about this world, don’t you? If you become our King, I can teach you.”
“Thanks, but…”
“Then it’s settled! And excuse me for saying it, but it’s not like you have anything left to lose.”
I had to laugh at the remark.
It reminded me of Colonel Kurtz from Apocalypse Now. Deep in the jungles of Vietnam, he was a soldier who acted like a king, leading the locals and essentially constructing his own nation… Wouldn’t I turn out the same as him if I were to accept this responsibility?
I didn’t like it. Coming all the way to another planet just to play as the ruler of a castle? What clumsy writing that was.
Still…
…what would happen if I refused? They might install a different leader. It might be Mizuho, or it could end up being Potesara or Savakan. Would I be able to leave them alone? No. Soldiers in the Regiment were built to face crises. I could never even think of abandoning them. In other words, my acceptance or refusal really didn’t make much difference—the title of “King” aside, that is.
“…All right, fine.”
I looked up.
“On one condition. I believe, to begin with, that the King should be chosen from one of you. Until a suitable person is found, I’ll accept the position of Landmaker.”
Troach cocked her head. “I don’t get it. You mean you don’t want us to call you the King?”
“Yeah.”
This is probably gonna annoy them, I thought.
Yet, upon hearing that, Mizuho answered smoothly, “Then you should be the Ninja.”
“Yeah, the Ninja. That would work.”
The words coming out of Mizuho’s and Troach’s mouths caught me completely off guard.
“Ninja? Did you just say ninja?”
“Yes.”
“Yep!”
“By ‘ninja,’ you mean the people who dress in all black and have katana…?”
“Yes, and throw shuriken.”
“And use ninjutsu!”
“They’re the Court member in charge of information gathering. Don’t you think that would be perfect for you?”
“Yep, fits like a glove. How about it, Taiga?”
“Uh… Sure.”
I nodded and agreed…but something still felt odd.
Mizuho pounded her hand with a fist and stood up. “Then it’s decided! Taiga, currently title-less, will be our Ninja and acting King. I, Mizuho the Frequent Late-Nighter, will be Minister. And the Attendant will be Troach of the Complicated Past—the three of us will form the Court. Let’s create our new nation right here!”
A cheer sounded, echoing off the forest of pillars in the camp and traveling into the endless expanse of Million Dungeon.
Talk of a coronation ceremony and a celebratory feast began, but we had no alcohol or food. Postponing the event was the only option, though everyone’s mood still visibly brightened.
Mizuho took the initiative on holding a meeting on something she insisted was essential: a name for our nation. The one chosen was the Great Camp Bravo Kingdom. Obviously, the moniker was utterly nonsensical. It made me fear for the fledgling country’s future.
Once the discussions had settled, everyone decided to get some rest, since it was already very late. It had been dark in Million Dungeon since my arrival, so I figured that was just how it was, but apparently, there was a day-night delineation here.
Everyone nestled into their own sleeping spots. I caught Mizuho before she lay down, however.
“I wanted to ask something… You said there are a few stories of Visitors who came here from Earth, right?”
“Yes, I did. Why?”
“How about any where they made it back to their original world?”
“Well…” Mizuho trailed off. When I waited for an answer, she continued uncomfortably, “…There are, but very, very few. Most tales of Visitors end in tragedy, with them losing their lives in Million Dungeon. Any others are triumphant recountings of their deeds and accomplishments.”
“I see.”
That figured… As I suspected, returning to Earth wasn’t very probable.
“Oh, but wait! Um, it doesn’t seem all that common, but…,” Mizuho said, seeming to have recalled something. “There are a few stories where the Visitor ends up finding a home in Million Dungeon and living here happily… And, well, that is…”
“I see. Thank you,” I replied, smiling a little.
She was probably trying to comfort me. Even so, she’d still mentioned how rare any kind of success for a Visitor in Million Dungeon was. That sort of honesty seemed very like her.