“I apologize if I’ve offended you,” I said to Miss Cielz.
Even if what Tiamat had said was logical, it was also true that I had spoken carelessly. Being stubborn and refusing to apologize wouldn’t do me any good here.
“At this point, I still think there is time to resolve things with discourse. Matters haven’t expanded beyond Noura yet.”
As time would go on, casualties would grow. Along with that, the room for negotiation or reaching an understanding would rapidly shrink. Then it would be too late. All that would be left is a brawl to the death between humans and monsters. And this time, there would be no hero to save humanity. I didn’t know how the god on-site planned to resolve the matter, but I doubted that it would summon yet another hero.
“...”
Miss Cielz stared back at me with skepticism. She seemed unsure of what I meant. To her, Hermits were enemies. It was natural for her to struggle to understand when a Hermit sounded like he was willing to negotiate.
“Or would you still prefer an encore of what happened a hundred and fifty years ago? This time, both sides may be wiped out.”
I felt like I was drilling in the same point a little too hard, but I had no other cards to play. I couldn’t demand a surrender with the threat of a powerful military nor oppress them with overwhelming financial control. As an average joe with no cheat codes to speak of, all I could do was speak to her sense of reason with sincerity.
“...I don’t.”
“You don’t. I don’t either. Because of that, I believe that we have at least one chance for a conversation.”
“You want an audience with our ruler?”
“I do.”
“But I’m just a bottom-rank soldier.”
The dark elf smirked. Combined with her black skin and black eyes, her expression looked extremely sinister. However, even my dull brain could pick up that both her claim and her attitude were an act. I couldn’t believe that a private would have the authority to kill the leader of one of their battalions.
“In that case, you can simply take us to your headquarters.”
“...”
“If that will put you in danger, Miss Cielz, you only have to tell us where it is.”
I didn’t say anything about her act. I found no pleasure in pointing out the shortcomings of others, and I would gain nothing from calling her out on her lie in this situation. I didn’t want to trick or kill the Demon Lord, after all.
“...You won’t chide me for my dishonesty?”
“We’re asking for an audience with the leader of a group that opposes us. I don’t expect to be welcomed with open arms.”
“...You are a strange man, Eiji.”
Miss Cielz smiled. Yep, I thought she was much more charming with a smile than a frown. I returned the smile.
“So? Make a decision already. Are you going to take us there or not?” Tiamat interjected, rather unpleased.
Oh? Could it be? Was she jealous? How cute. I glanced at Tiamat with a self-satisfied grin, when, smack!
“Aghhh!”
Out of nowhere, a dragon’s tail struck the top of my foot.
Five days had passed since we said our goodbyes to Mister Dolitos and the city of Wulds and started traveling eastbound. We went in and out of the forest and the travel road. We carried on, following Miss Cielz’s navigation through the obviously roundabout route. Just when I was beginning to worry about how little food we had left on Mister Donkey, we came to a clearing with a stronghold in the distance.
“...The abandoned castle of Gannes...” Ruey uttered softly.
“You know this place?” I asked.
“Only through rumors. The Demon Lord annihilated many nations and cities. The city-state of Gannes was one of them.”
That was over a hundred and fifty years ago. No accurate records were kept, and those who survived to see it happen were long gone now. Apparently no one even knew its accurate location until now. Still, Ruey knew of the city-state because it was located within the current Noura territory.
“It all happened when a single rat appeared in the castle one day. I was told that no one in the castle nor the city survived the night.”
Ruey rubbed his neck as if to calm his goosebumps. That sounded just like a scary story. And not a good one.
“If not a single person survived, I wonder who told that story.”
I shrugged. Scary stories with impossible premises aren’t hard to find. For example, the story of a female ghost that appears in the Tsukioka hot springs in Niigata prefecture was once described in a book by the (now deceased) paranormal researcher Iwao Nikura.
Apparently the ghost was named Michi, and she was from the Edo period. She was a servant at Echigoya, a supplier of goods for merchant ships during the time. She fell in love with the heir of the business, Seitaro. Of course, a servant and the soon-to-be-owner of a large business lived in different worlds. Everyone around them furiously opposed their union, naturally.
At their wits’ end, Shintaro and Michi eloped, hand-in-hand. After drifting through town after town, they finally arrived at Tsukioka hot springs. By that time, they had used up all of the money they had left. They were struggling to come up with each meal. Then Shintaro fell ill, and Michi was not in much better health herself. In the end, they chose the unthinkable.
With an oath to reunite in nirvana, they chose to commit shinju, or double suicide. But, even after death, they didn’t end up together. While Shintaro’s body was taken by his family that ran the goods-supply business and ceremoniously buried, Michi’s body was left ignored. In fact, her body was stomped on, spat on, and abandoned at the side of a road.
Who could blame her for holding a grudge? Accordingly, Michi’s spirit materializes out of her passion for Shintaro and her hatred for those who tore them apart.
“And that’s the story. What do you think, Tia?”
“A run-of-the-mill ghost story. Nothing seemed particularly noteworthy, maybe other than the overly specific background information. But isn’t that true for most ghost stories?”
“Even with your intellect, Tia, you didn’t pick up on the lies of this ghost story?”
“Lies?”
“Yep. The first lie is that no one used the word ‘shinju’ after the mid-Edo period.”
The use of another Japanese word by the same meaning, ‘aitaijini,’ was strictly enforced from that point on by the orders of Yoshimune, the eighth shogun. The word ‘shinju,’ on the other hand, was eradicated from public records from that point on.
The word ‘shinju’ is comprised of kanji that, when combined, become a kanji that means ‘loyalty.’ The top theory for explaining the shogun’s decision was that he really didn’t like having the kanji for loyalty broken up like that, but the verdict is still out.
“Hm. Then that ghost must have lived before Yoshimune.”
“That’s right, Tia. And that’s where the other lie comes in.”
Tsukioka hot springs did not exist on this planet before the Kyoho years of the Edo period (1716-1736) when Yoshimune ruled. It was in a quiet slumber deep below the ground. It wasn’t discovered until 1918, when a certain oil company struck it by coincidence during a boring attempt. In other words, it’s not some hidden hot spring that emerged out of nature.
“That means people only started living there after that.”
“That’s what happened. Tsukioka hot springs was just a hillside back in the Edo period. Not a place any human can walk right through.”
Even if someone did, through excessive effort, go and commit suicide there, their body would have been devoured by a carnivore or returned to dirt. No chance of coming back as a ghost, then.
“Astounding. The whole story’s a lie, from start to finish.”
“Like most ghost stories are. They’re not designed to make logical sense.”
“Then, it is a lie that Gannes was destroyed, Sir Eiji?”
Ruey, who had been curiously listening in on our conversation, crooked his neck.
“I think it’s true that it was destroyed.”
I saw no reason to doubt that, when not a single survivor had been found for a hundred and fifty years. In a single night, though? I was skeptical about that. It felt purposefully terrifying.
“Maybe the rumor was intentionally spread by someone.”
I glanced over at Miss Cielz.