Chapter 38

CHAPTER FIVE And Thus, He Reaches Heaven “Lady Sihlwald! Lady Sihlwald!” A tall man walked down the long skullia hallway. He had an intrepid look on his face and a mostly human appearance, save for the wolf ears and tail—signs of his half-therian genes. The half-therian man wore ceremonial armor and carried a thin ceremonial sword. Clear sunlight came in through the windows on his left-hand side, making the dust shine. “Hmmm. Finding her will be an ordeal… But going against His Majesty’s commands would be unthinkable… Piling achievements in battle would be so much easier.” Another man appeared with languid steps from the corner before him. He had long silver hair, pointy ears, and brown skin. He wore a red vampire robe and a nervous and timid look on his face. “If it isn’t Sir Marcus.” The dark elf’s expression brightened upon seeing the half-therian. “Ohh! Sir Zenol! Good to see you here!” The half-therian man, Zenol, raised an eyebrow at Marcus. “If you’ll excuse the discourtesy, Sir Marcus…what are you doing?” His confusion was only natural, as Marcus had a tall familiar’s cage covering his head. “Good question, Sir Zenol!” Marcus flashed a big smile from behind the cage’s bars and hurried up to Zenol. But on his way there, the cage got caught on a candleholder sticking out from the wall, and he fell over. “Ugyah?!” Marcus stood up, smile unchanged, and ran up to Zenol. “This is my newly developed magi-gadget. A prototype for a magic-assistance device! No name for it yet, though! As we’re considering allying with the ogres and orcs, I figured they would be of great help if they were able to use magic with ease! However, it is still too big, and it only works as a weak staff for those who can already use magic at the moment… If we can’t find a way to add some technological advancement to magic, then it’ll remain the same no matter how many centuries…” Zenol was ignorant about magic. Although he could use it, he couldn’t keep up with the talk of a genius like Marcus, not to mention he always talked so rapidly, without a care for the listener. He was an overexplainer. “That sounds too technical for me to understand, but I’m sure His Majesty will be glad to see your contribution and wisdom. That said, I don’t think you should show yourself like that before him.” “Show myself to him? Why? Did I do something wrong again?” “No, but he called for me and you, Lady Sihlwald, Ralsheen, Machina, and…what was the name of the new recruit?” “Ahhh, I’ve forgotten it, too. But I know who you mean. The exiled one.” “Yes, he wants us in the palace as soon as possible.” “What a curious selection… I doubt it’s about the planned subterranean Demon Castle’s inverted keep… But if he’s called for you and Lady Sihlwald, then it can’t be anything peaceable…” “Only he can know.” “Yes, I cannot present myself before him like this. I must get changed right a…” Marcus grabbed the familiar cage and shook it up and down, but it only rattled. “…I can’t take it off.” “…Just find a way before coming, Sir Marcus.” Zenol walked past him. “Hey! Wait! Please! H-h-help me, Sir Zenol! The king will kill me!” “It was a joke. Calm down. If you can’t take it off, then we can only smash it. Should I?” “Y-yes. It’s a failure, after all.” “Well, then.” Zenol grabbed his ceremonial sword. “I know I can’t die, but don’t decapitate me, okay?!” “Don’t worry.” Three rings. A gust. The clang of sheathing. Then the clunk of the familiar cage falling to the ground, split vertically. Marcus praised him, astounded. “That is the number one swordsman in Alnaeth for you… Excellent, a clean draw even with a ceremonial sword… I could not even see the movement. I can only imagine what it takes to do that, as someone inept at the art of the sword…” “Oh, it’s nothing. And number one in Alnaeth is too much. I’m far from the Paladin Althia.” “Ha-ha! But isn’t that a fairy-tale hero? No need to be humble. Thank you for your help, Sir Zenol! My friend! Now I shall rush to meet the king!” Marcus carried the familiar cage by his side and ran away. “He’s one excellent engineer, but too careless. Although he acts so serene before His Majesty… Ah, I forgot to ask him about Lady Sihlwald…” As Zenol remained paused in thought, a graceful voice called his name from behind. “Sir Zenol?” He turned around to find two people. “If it isn’t Machina and…” Machina, in red dress armor and with her long, beautiful silver hair unusually tied up to one side, bowed courteously. She was yet to be given a noble title, but even Zenol had her in his sight as a comparatively new recruit with great achievements. Behind Machina was a quiet girl shorter than she was, wearing white-and-blue dress armor. “Maaay! Greet Sir Zenol!” The timid girl clung to Machina’s back as she popped up her head to peek at Zenol. They looked like sisters together, but May was far younger as an immortal than Machina. According to his lord, she was basically as old as she seemed. “…” Machina pushed her to the front, but May quickly ran back behind. “For goodness’ sake! I’m so sorry, Sir Zenol… I’m still teaching her manners… I will lecture her later. Please forgive her…” “Ha-ha! No, it is ruder of me to make a woman greet me first.” Zenol bent a knee to the floor to meet May’s eye level and smiled. “I am Zenol, appointed Duke of Swords by His Majesty. May I ask your name, little lady?” “…Okay.” She stood to face him. “I’m May.” “May. Very nice name. As servants of the same lord, we will sooner or later stand together in battle. I look forward to you having my back.” “…Yeah.” May nodded before hiding behind Machina again. “Considering your outfits, I imagine you already know about the summons?” “Yes, Ralsheen told us, along with giving us these armors… We are on our way to the palace.” “I see. By the way, have you seen Lady Sihlwald? His Majesty asked me to tell her about it.” “Lady Sihlwald? I’m sorry, I haven’t seen her.” “…I saw her laughing out loud while running through the main street this morning,” May said from behind Machina’s back. “Main street? I’ll have to go to town, then. Thank you.” “Should we help you look for her?” “No, this is my job. You head over to see His Majesty.” “Very well.” Machina and May bowed before leaving. Zenol looked out the window receiving the warm, soft sunlight. “I must work hard to aid His Majesty’s efforts so this tranquility can continue forever.” It was a story from a long, long time ago. Ramen places in Goar were currently divided into three styles: industrial, domestic, and everything else—traditional Chinese noodles, sanmamen, tanmen, et cetera. Machina and Hizuki visited a place that served domestic-style ramen. The smell of the synthetic pork broth reached all the way out across the short curtains. “Come on iiin!” the restaurant clerk yelled. The shop was jam-packed, and the workers were hectic. Machina and Hizuki bought a ticket at the machine in the corner via their Familias. They were both issued small colored plates. Machina bought a regular bowl, and Hizuki, a large bowl with rice. “You order so much every time,” said Machina. “You’ll get fat.” “Mmm, I never really gain weight no matter how much I eat.” A smiling orc clerk came over. “I’m so sorry! All tables are taken at the moment; would you mind sharing one?” “What do you say, Hizuki?” “Sure, that’s fine. I’m starving.” “Then if you could show us to the table, please.” Machina handed the plates to the clerk. “Thank you! Any special requests?” “Hard noodles, strong broth, extra fat,” said Hizuki. “Everything regular for me, please,” said Machina. “Showing two clients to their seaaats!” “Come on iiin!” They were shown to a table in the back of the small restaurant. On the left, front side of the table for four was a human woman. Her hair was tied up at her nape, and she was wearing a suit. “Excuse us!” the orc clerk said. “Go right ahead,” the woman replied. They bowed to her, and Hizuki took the farthest back seat, across the table from the woman, while Machina sat beside Hizuki. The woman was eating her ramen when she glanced at them, and their eyes met. “Ah.” “Ah.” Machina knew her. “I-i-it’s you…!” “Mmmg! Hafghafrgha!” “Swallow before speaking!” The woman gulped down her food and served herself water from the pitcher before taking a drink. After that was done, the two of them pointed at each other. “You… You’re Marcus’s…! What was your name, again…?” “You… You’re the Demon Lord’s…! I can’t remember your name…” They recognized each other, but Machina never heard her name, and the woman didn’t remember hers. The woman was the secretary of Shinjuku’s IHMI’s CEO, one of the Six Dark Peers, the Duke of the Bloody Arts, Marcus, and opponent of Veltol and Machina in the incident surrounding the Immortal Furnace. Her name was Kinohara. Machina considered getting on guard but then remembered they were at a restaurant, and while she was hesitating, Kinohara stood up and took a business card out of her breast pocket, which she then handed to Machina with a bow. “My name is Kinohara. Pleasure to meet you.” “Oh, yes… The pleasure is mine. I’m Machina.” Machina’s animosity evaporated, and she glanced at the card. It stated Kinohara’s full name in Japanese, as well as the name of her company and a QR code for her contact info. Hizuki received one, too, and read the company name out loud. “‘Hero Staffing Agency Valhara’…?” “We outsource a variety of niche jobs, from missing pets to private investigations to cheating spouses to Yakuza Guild raids.” “So you’re a glorified handyman?” Machina asked. “Perhaps from a macro perspective.” “Uh-huh… So you know her, Machina?” “Yes! That’s right!” Machina lowered her voice after noticing that everyone in the restaurant was looking at her for shouting. “That wasn’t a ‘yes!’ to your question, Hizuki. I was just trying to get us back on topic.” “Uh-huh, sure. So?” “I don’t actually know her. Remember what I told you a little while back? About what happened in Shinjuku?” “The thing about using immortals as fuel, right?” “She was one of the ringleaders!” Machina pointed at Kinohara, who glared back. “I don’t hold any grudge toward you or the Demon Lord. It’s true that I was indebted to the director, and that I’m in my current situation because of you… However, it would be pathetic of the loser to resent you for the results. Revenge isn’t creative. Although if you intend to fight me, then I will take you up on it.” “…” Zenol’s face crossed Machina’s mind, as did Ornared’s, Palmlock’s, and the other immortals’. Kinohara hadn’t killed them herself. Marcus was the executioner, the main culprit. But Kinohara had been involved with him. Even so, reason won out. This was not the place to fight. “A large, hard noodles, strong broth, extra fat ramen with rice, and one regular coming up!” The ramen arrived at the table. Tonkotsu shoyu broth, medium-thickness soy noodles, green edible film, synthetic seaweed, seasoned eggs, and mernius. The most standard domestic ramen. Hizuki and Machina switched their focus from Kinohara to the ramen. Ramen was a serious matter. They heard the clerk speak to a new diner: “I’m so sorry! All our tables are taken; would you mind sharing one?” “I don’t mind.” “Thank you! Showing one client to their seaaat!” Yet another chance encounter. Machina and the newcomer exclaimed in unison the moment they saw each other: “Ah.” “Oh.” Finding Kinohara here was already a bombshell, and now this? A girl in black nun-like clothes wearing a visor. A member of the Guild, marked by the emblem of a dragon holding a sword. Alias Ange. One of the Six Dark Peers—Duchess of the Mournful Firmament: May. Hizuki slurped her ramen while looking at the person sitting diagonally across from her. It was a short girl. Half of her face was covered, but she looked younger than Hizuki. But appearances didn’t matter, since she was an immortal. She awkwardly drew the noodles to her little mouth. She eats ramen, huh? Hizuki thought. I had this image of her as a magiroid or something. That girl was a member of the same organization as Hizuki’s nemesis, and the terrorist who had occupied her school. Calm down. Hizuki took a deep breath and focused on the slurping at hand. She had extra garlic. No big deal, since she wasn’t planning on meeting anyone. There were few people she would talk to anyway.