Machina slung a bulging rucksack filled with provisions over her back, and I picked up another backpack carrying condiments, plates, and utensils. Unsold pasta made up the majority of the food we lugged. My Phantom Pasta creation I’d been so sure would take off flopped—hard. No, seriously, it was such a disaster, it felt like some cruel joke.
Aside from that, I geared up the same as always: poncho over my camouflage fatigues, ryvius and coral necklace hanging from my neck, my decked-out AI gizmo glasses on, a woodsman’s hatchet at my side, and a karambit in my pocket. Arrows, my unstrung bow, and enchanted sword were tucked away in a quiver that hung from my waist. Not the classiest getup, but adventurer etiquette required one to show up in full battle mode.
The two of us set off across the meadow, moving away from the city. Our objective: a change of pace. A little while before this, Machina had been rolling around the meadow (to blow off steam) when she got herself impossibly stuck, wedged in between two boulders. As it happened, someone chanced upon her and helped her out. Today we were going to thank them for the favor. Personally, I was more interested in scoping out this savior who had seen Machina—just in case.
“………Huh?” As we strolled over the grassy fields, I realized something felt a little off. “Hang on, Machina.” I take that back—“a little” didn’t cut it.
“Yeees?”
“What is that supposed to be?” I asked, pointing at the Machina Unit’s nether regions. A white sphere affixed to the bottom of the unit spun three hundred sixty degrees to propel my metallic partner over the meadow. Modern-day laws and a special treaty prohibited AI bots from acting autonomously, though Machina had come up with a whole range of excuses to get around those restrictions in the past. This, however, was a blatant breach of contract.
“It is an emergency measure to get me out of trouble if I ever get stuck again. I can’t expect someone to come save me every time, sooo—emergency measure, e-mer-gen-seeee?”
“No, no, no, you know you can’t go around breaking the law like that. You’re not even trying to hide it.” Eventually, she’d cut loose and do goodness knows what. And I had a bad feeling I’d lose all control over her.
“Mr. Souya, this modification is necessary for our expeditions.”
Ugh, it’s like déjà vu. Except she’s the one throwing my own words back at me. “Are you really gonna use that excuse to justify every little thing?”
“Hey, Mr. Souya, Mr. Souya, guess what? I have kept a meticulous video record of the moves necessary for our expeditions you have made—every single one. Oddly enough, most of the clips happen to show you cozying up to different ladies, but I’d be happy to share it with Mistress Lana if—”
“That’s one good emergency measure right there! You gotta do what you gotta do!” Shit. She has me by the short hairs.
“Exactly! I knew you’d understand! I had no other choice!”
“Of course! Plus, we’re in the Other Dimension, after all! Even cheating isn’t against the rules here!”
“Nice try! That could not be further from the truth!”
“………Fine.” C’mon, you should have agreed with me there.
“The elven race sees jealousy as an extremely ugly emotion, perhaps due to their tradition of polygamous marriage. They believe it is only natural for elves to embody beauty itself, so one can imagine how they might view envy as an acknowledgment of defeat. However, that does not necessarily mean Mistress Lana would feel comfortable watching you flirt with other women. I do not have the authority to restrict your sex life, but I would urge you to think veeeeeeery carefully before you fool around with a woman. Oh, sorry, should I append ‘or a man’ to that as well?”
“Absolutely not!!” Love is love, but I loved the ladies.
“For now, please exercise extra care around Lady Lanceil.”
“I’m trying, but she’s a force to be reckoned with.” She came on strong, both emotionally and physically.
“Maybe all beastfolk share this trait? Lady Lanceil does indeed take a very proactive approach, but do you think she really means it?”
“No, my money says she’s working under the king’s orders.” King Remlia must have ordered her to do it. He had no shortage of reasons to gather intel on me. Case in point, all the foreign technology, machinery, and goods I’d brought with me from Japan. Plus, we couldn’t forget he’d been covertly hunting beasts.
King Remlia didn’t trust his allied nation, Ellusion, at all. Actually, maybe international ties didn’t rely on trust at all, but on a web of lies and deception sly snakes and wily foxes spun to fool the other.
“In that case, I’ll go ahead and raise the safety locks two levels just for Lady Lanceil. Sound good?”
“Please do.” I seriously doubted the possibility, but if Lanceil wasn’t simply following orders but acting out of pure feelings toward me, then……what would I do? “So are we almost there yet?” I asked, shifting between my internal and external dialogues.
“It’s just up ahead.” The only things close to the campsite were the Heuress Forest, where the elves lived, and the Remlian farmlands that bordered it. Apart from that, the meadow stretched on uninterrupted as far as the eye could see.
Now that I think of it, does anyone else even live around here? “Hmm?” I stopped in my tracks.
“Is something wrong?”
I’d paused at the site of my battle against a certain hero—the same place I’d fought the enchanted sword now peacefully stored in my quiver. Red flowers bloomed all over the spot. Their spiky leaves and stems pricked any skin unfortunate enough to come in contact with them. Even the tubular crimson flowers looked thorny. Though strikingly similar to the red spider lilies said to line the shores of the afterworld, they were, in fact—
“Thistles, Mr. Souya.”
“Why are they only blooming here?” No, that wasn’t true. The flowers traced across the meadow as if chasing after something, marking a path with the blooms left in their wake. To me, the deep-crimson petals appeared to also be purifying the ground of some evil curse.
“Fascinating, isn’t it? This shade of red is almost the exact color of human blood. You can refer to Machina’s Believe It or Not, Otherworldly Mysteries for more information.”
Is that really a thing? I am so down to read that.
“Careful with the thorns! These flowers grow in denser clusters where we’re going,” Machina advised, then continued happily plodding along. We walked roughly five kilometers, following the thistles like a trail made of breadcrumbs. The entire way, I traveled with emotions I couldn’t name or fit into any neat compartments. Then up ahead—