Lost Child of the Dawn

by Mamare Touno

  “Uh-huh.”

  As she carefully lined up potatoes in a baking dish, then sprinkled them with granulated sugar, Mikakage responded absently. Compared to cakes made with wheat flour, potatoes, and other raw ingredients tended to produce different results depending on the day. Moisture content, sweetness, and the flavors inherent to the ingredients were more pronounced, and they varied. In adding sweetness with sugar, she was only supplementing the ingredients. When she thought of it that way, she had to be careful.

  “A present for someone?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Take me with you.”

  “No.”

  Mikakage answered instantly as she poured in cream. Aomori had an ulterior motive there. After he’d heard it was a girls-only tea party, he’d made the same request dozens of times. Aomori—or most guys, really—truly didn’t understand: Chatting was important.

  Really irreplaceable.

  There were several things Mikakage had learned after coming to this world.

  One of them was the value of time spent with friends. Here, there were no televisions. No cell phones. No movies or manga. Almost anything that could be termed “entertainment” had disappeared. Calling things “entertainment” made it sound as though they weren’t necessary, but Mikakage could declare categorically that this wasn’t the case. It was likely that most Adventurers could.

  That miserable atmosphere in the town just after the Catastrophe. Even if they had immortal bodies, it didn’t really seem like “living” when they spent their days in a despondent mood, listlessly eating food that had no flavor. She thought that human life was something better, something more fun. To that end, it was absolutely vital to have something that would console their spirits.

  Like sweets. Or friends who’ll eat those sweets.

  Come to think of it, Mikakage thought the time she’d spent talking with friends after school had been the best time ever.

  She remembered stopping by the hamburger shop almost every day on the way home from club in middle school. They’d order hundred-yen milkshakes and tirelessly tell dumb, funny stories until it got dark. At the time, it had seemed only natural to her, something she’d have limitless access to. When she started high school, she’d drifted apart from those friends and had begun going straight home. Manga and games had filled those hours for her, but after coming to this world, Mikakage had reconsidered, and now she thought human warmth was really important.

  Mikakage had been rather shy, but now Allie was here. Mikakage’s small partner was a lot shyer and more timid than she was. Strangely, when she was with Allie, Mikakage was able to be proactive. She’d thought that, for Allie’s sake as well, she needed to actively greet people. When she was trying not to embarrass herself in front of Allie, she was able to manage without being tense, even in front of Princess Raynesia, a peerless beauty… Although maybe she was able to avoid being tense because she’d seen her profile when she’d been caught off-guard.

  Besides, sweets that made Allie happy made everyone else happy, too.

  Creating new sweets and serving them to her friends was Mikakage’s greatest pleasure now, and it was the center of her daily life. Luckily, she was able to make enough to live on by selling sweets and submitting recipe logs. In that sense, of all the time following the Catastrophe, these days felt the most fulfilling to Mikakage.

  The new facts she’d discovered in the cooking section… They did make her feel a bit uncomfortable, but the investigation looked as if it would yield a modest harvest. Investigations were fun, once you got used to them.

  “What, the get-together’s that important or something?”

  At Aomori’s petulant question, Mikakage took a moment to think. Of course it was important. How could it not be?

  Making sweets.

  Having people eat those sweets.

  Telling pointless stories.

  Nothing was as important as these things. The problem with guys was that they wanted set results from everything. But it wasn’t okay to rush any of these elements. Proper heat, proper timing.

  Mikakage put on a big oven mitt, took the potatoes baked in cream out of the oven and served them to Aomori. She was experimenting with a new dish. Aomori was emitting whoops of delight, but since it was a prototype, she couldn’t serve it to everyone at the tea parties yet. This was just a couple of steps above tasting for poison. That was why Aomori was good enough.

  “Yes. It’s really important. Really-really. I bet there’s nothing more important.”

  “Huh? Not even your relationship with me?”

  “That’s less important than scorched, failed jam.”

  Ignoring the dejected Aomori, Mikakage began to put away the cooking implements she’d used.

  After all, even as Aomori sniffled, he’d probably polish off the potatoes, and Allie—who, though shy, was a busybody—would probably comfort him.

  2

  When the young man’s visit was announced, Raynesia felt something unexpected.

  Of course she knew him by sight, and he was an important person, but she realized she had never imagined him visiting her, or indeed anyone.

  In aristocratic society, visits were announced several days to several months in advance, but for better or worse, this was Akiba, and the servants at Water Maple Mansion, Raynesia’s residence, had grown accustomed to abrupt guests.

  This time as well, the visitor had been shown into the drawing room before Raynesia had even been informed.

  With Elissa’s help, the princess tidied her hair a little and changed clothes. Although the young man was someone from “her side,” he wasn’t a noble, and, most important, they were both People of the Earth who lived in Akiba. Deciding there was no need to dress as formally as she would have for a soirée, she’d chosen a long-sleeved one-piece dress with slim lines.

  The dress was pink, as misty as a light snowfall. It had been a gift from Marielle of the Crescent Moon League. Of the clothing she’d been given, it was one of the most demure pieces, and Raynesia secretly liked it.

  When she trotted into the drawing room, hurrying just a little, the guest stood to greet her.

  “It’s been a long time since we last spoke, Lady Raynesia.”

  The visitor, who bowed his head politely, was a young man. His name was Kinjo. He was the young leader of the Kunie clan in Akiba.

  “I’m terribly sorry to have kept you waiting.”

  Raynesia gracefully returned the courtesy.

  While Elissa prepared tea, an odd silence flowed between them.

  Raynesia didn’t know much about this young man. On the contrary: The fact that he was the young leader of the Kunie clan was nearly all she knew about him. The Kunie were an unconventional clan, even for the People of the Earth, and it was safe to say that, in a sense, they had special influence in Yamato.

  Yamato was roughly divided into five territories.

  The Ezzo Empire, which had been founded in the wastelands to the north. The Nine-Tails Dominion, a merchant shipping nation far to the south. The Duchy of Fourland, which had already collapsed and was now a dangerous island where monsters ran rampant. The Holy Empire of Westlande, which had inherited the blood of the Westlande Imperial Dynasty. Finally, Eastal, the League of Free Cities, which had put down roots in Eastern Yamato and included the city of Maihama, which was governed by Raynesia’s grandfather.

  The same currency was in circulation in all five of these territories. The money was divided into halves, quarters, and whole coins, but these were ordinarily referred to in general terms as “gold coins.” Raynesia had heard that the exact same currency was used, not only in Yamato, but even on the continent.

  These gold coins had been used since ancient times, and the members of the Kunie clan were the ones who controlled their circulation, or in other words, the banks.

  They had inherited a few of the ancient alvs’ technologies, and they were able to send and receive articles across long distances using a method that was different
from the intercity gates. The Kunie clan used these technologies to operate the financial institutions scattered across the country.

  However, they weren’t a banking clan.

  Their mission was to maintain the magic technologies from the time of the ancient alvs.

  The bank was the most typical example, but in Eastal, they were also in charge of maintaining the barrier cities’ magical defensive circles. There were roughly thirty barrier cities in Eastal, and ancient facilities that transmitted magic had been built underneath them. This magic prevented monsters from invading, and it also powered the mobile armor.

  With the exception of the cities belonging to the Holy Empire of Westlande, which had been afraid its nobles would rebel, almost all the barrier cities in Yamato were supported by the Kunie clan.

  That was how heavy the clan’s responsibility was. In a way, you could say their clan was more important to Yamato than the nobles. Even when Raynesia had been posted to Akiba, her grandfather had duly sent word to the Kunie clan.

  However, on the other hand, since antiquity, the Kunie clan had been known for its curious lack of interest in fame or power. Among Eastal’s nobility, the unanimous impression was that they handed their mission down orally and cared only about its accomplishment.

  In general terms, ordinary People of the Earth nobles—and Raynesia herself—were conscious of the Kunie as an eccentric People of the Earth tribe that was strange and mysterious, but that had lent its strength to maintaining the world since antiquity.

  “Please, do have some tea.”

  However, for that reason alone, Raynesia didn’t know how to speak to him. For the moment, because it seemed safe, she offered him the tea Elissa had made. What she’d set down on the low table was green tea they’d recently purchased.

  Kinjo softly lowered his half-closed eyes, then brought the cup to his lips.

  She’d heard from Elissa that he was young, and even now, when she was facing him, there was no other way to describe him. However, even when she gazed steadily at the young man—who had violet eyes and black hair, and was dressed in a formal suit with a stand-up collar—his age wasn’t clear to her.

  Naturally, he was older than Raynesia, but what would he be compared to Krusty the warrior-menace? The smooth contours of his cheeks made her think he might be much younger, and his sinewy hands made him seem much older. Raynesia had never seen anyone whose age was this unclear to her before.

  “I apologize for my sudden visit today. A grave incident has occurred; I’ve come to explain it to you, and to apologize.”

  Kinjo had returned his cup to its saucer, and he grimaced as he spoke.

  “What might that be?”

  “A suit of mobile armor has been stolen from the guards’ station.”

  “What…?”

  “We believe the thief was one of the guards, a member of the Kunie clan.”

  Raynesia didn’t usually think of herself as being quick on the uptake, but this time she truly missed his meaning.

  She was also keenly aware that the blood was draining from her head.

  A vicious dizziness assailed her, and her vision seemed to darken.

  Mobile armor was one of the relics from the ancient alvs, special armor used in order to protect a specific zone. The greatest difference between it and ordinary armor lay in the magic that was externally supplied to it, and that function greatly improved the physical abilities of whoever wore it.

  Currently, the People of the Earth’s combat abilities weren’t that strong, comparatively. Not only were they no match for the Adventurers, they couldn’t stand up to any monster that was midlevel or above. Even so, they were able to protect their living space in the world because they had help from several quarters.

  One was the legendary People of the Earth heroes known as the Ancients, as well as the Adventurers, who acted as guerilla fighters and put down the world’s enemies. Another was the barrier technology that protected the big cities and major highways from monsters.

  The organization of guards equipped with mobile armor was an element just as important as the previous ones.

  Depending on the situation, People of the Earth who’d been strengthened by mobile armor gained abilities that surpassed those of high-level Adventurers. In addition, although their abilities were limited to the cities, they could teleport and put people in prison. The guards employed these abilities to keep the peace in town.

  Of course, the use of these abilities wasn’t unrestricted. Mobile armor required a vast amount of magic just to operate, and she’d heard it could be used only in certain cities.

  “Yes, that’s correct. Mobile armor can be used only in a few major cities. Without a constant supply of magic from the enormous magic circle constructed under the city, the wearer finds it difficult even to move. That’s one of the armor’s distinguishing characteristics. In addition, mobile armor is tuned to the magic wavelength of its specific city, so if removed from Akiba, it would be nothing more than rubbish.”

  Raynesia was dumbfounded. Watching her steadily, Kinjo kept speaking.

  “However, that doesn’t change the gravity of the situation. Even if it’s only papier-mâché if taken outside, within the city, its strength is unequaled.”

  Depending on how it was adjusted, mobile armor could greatly amplify output. In the town of Akiba, its abilities surpassed level 100. Its purpose was to control Adventurers who committed violent acts in town, so this was only natural, but its combat abilities were set to surpass even those of Adventurers at the highest level.

  In fact, part of the reason Raynesia, a woman, had been posted to this town governed by Adventurers was the fact that her safety was guaranteed by the mobile armor and the guards. Of course, the official stance was that she was taking responsibility for having touched off the battle for Zantleaf by making reckless statements, without permission from the lords’ council. However, it did mean that her grandfather had had that much foresight when it came to posting a defenseless People of the Earth princess to an Adventurer city with only a handful of attendants.

  However, the combat abilities that served as a guarantee had been leaked to an outsider. That news indicated a variety of things, all at once.

  “But then… You can’t mean… The murderer…”

  Raynesia had gone pale. In response to her question, Kinjo nodded.

  “Yes, the Kunie clan is involved in those crimes. As embarrassing as that is, I’m forced to admit it.”

  The scandal was enough to freeze Raynesia.

  The Kunie clan—and a guard, at that—must not cause a situation like this. It was the sort of thing the People of the Earth hadn’t imagined even once in the space of several hundred years.

  However, if that was the case, it did explain several mysteries.

  The failure of Akiba’s guard system to detect the murders was only natural. The surveillance network was designed to detect harm Adventurers or People of the Earth did to each other. When the guards did battle, it wasn’t a crime: They were keeping the peace.

  In other words, there was no way the murders could have been detected.

  While wearing the mobile armor, the criminal had combat abilities greater than the Adventurers. Raynesia had no combat strength, and she didn’t know just how much higher “greater” would be, but from the rumors she’d heard over the past several days, she knew there had been quite a few victims already.

  Moreover, the fact that the Kunie clan had a hand in the incident was lethal on two points.

  The first was that the clan’s existence was far too transparent, as natural as air. The teleporting guards that protected the peace of the city and the banking network that stretched across all of Yamato… The systems were too much a part of society, both for the People of the Earth and for the Adventurers. Their convenience and safety were solid components of the social infrastructure.

  However, didn’t that make the fissure in their foundation all the more terrifying? Raynesia hadn’t received ex
pert training, and she couldn’t even imagine exactly what sort of disaster it might cause, but she felt an unease at the idea, like black clouds on the horizon.

  The second was more direct: The Kunie, although eccentric, were People of the Earth, and they had killed Adventurers.

  Adventurers were completely different beings from People of the Earth. Their physical appearance was similar, but the difference between their biological potentials was as great as the difference between heaven and earth. Adventurers increased their abilities dramatically by engaging in harsh combat over and over again, and when they were high-level, they had combat abilities that would allow just one of them to fight a band of a hundred knights.

  Up until now, the Adventurers of Akiba had protected Raynesia. They’d supported her as well. However, wasn’t that because Raynesia and her people were weak? Even if that hadn’t been all of it, Raynesia felt this was part of the reason.

  When that crumbled, the relationship between the Adventurers and the People of the Earth might suffer a fatal collapse.

  Why is this happening…?

  Raynesia’s mind filled with regret and resentment.

  There really was no other way to describe her mood. Why had this unnecessary trouble occurred now, when she’d been posted here, when she was standing right out in front? This incident hadn’t needed to happen, had it? The Kunie clan hadn’t had a single scandal in centuries, and she was at a loss to understand why they’d misbehaved now, of all times, and in Akiba no less, the town where Raynesia lived.

  “This incident is due to our carelessness. I’m truly sorry.”

  “Can’t… Can’t the Kunie clan, um…do something about it?” Raynesia asked.

  She’d had a hunch even before she asked him, but she’d had to ask.

  “I’m sorry, Princess Raynesia. Of course, if we cut off the supply of magic, the mobile armor will stop functioning. However, if we do that, the city’s defensive magic circle will also lose its abilities, and it will take decades to bring it back into operation. I can give you no other answer.”

  In order to protect Akiba from the monsters outside, the magic circle could not be stopped.