Lost Child of the Dawn

by Mamare Touno

  The fact that that magic circle was giving the murderer strength shattered Raynesia.

  3

  Akatsuki, who’d been let into the anteroom, was warming a cup in her hands, a quiet expression on her face.

  She wasn’t particularly cold. There just hadn’t been anything else to do.

  She didn’t know how much of it was an accident and how much it had been a plot on the part of Elissa the maid, but her sharp Tracker’s senses were letting her hear nearly all of the conversation in the next room.

  No matter how she thought about it, though, it was too much for Akatsuki to deal with alone. Akiba was in crisis: It was the sort of thing no one but a big guild like the West Wind Brigade or D.D.D. would be able to cope with, the sort of thing the Round Table Council might have to move for.

  Akatsuki thought she should probably pretend she hadn’t heard anything and leave.

  That beautiful princess, a girl like moonlight, had been worrying about whether or not to tell the Adventurers. Akatsuki felt as though, if she heard part of the murderer incident before Raynesia had made up her mind, it would have had too great an effect on the state of things.

  As a result, Akatsuki thought she’d get a look at Raynesia’s face, but when she thought about it later, she realized it might have been too capricious of her. Because of what her liege had said, she’d thought she’d at least check on the princess’s expression; the reason she even attempted it was the mission Shiroe had given her, and nothing more than that. In any case, right now, Akatsuki didn’t have a shred of mental leeway to worry about other people.

  She slipped out onto the balcony through the window of the anteroom. In combination with her drab everyday clothes, she probably looked like a creeping shadow. For a high-level Adventurer’s physical abilities, jumping across to the balcony of the drawing room—three meters away—was even easier than stepping across the border of a tatami mat.

  Raynesia was there, in the shadow of the elaborately sculptured window frame, beyond a lace curtain that looked like foam. The young man who’d been speaking with her a moment ago must have gone home: She was sitting all alone on the drawing room sofa, burying her face in a large cushion.

  How strange, Akatsuki thought, absently.

  Raynesia had always been calm, cheerful and genuine, and she’d held her head high. She was the sort of beautiful girl you couldn’t help but envy. Even more than her beautiful silver hair and her slender neck, her constantly modest, gracious manner created an atmosphere that was decisively different from the Adventurers. The girl Raynesia had the power to persuade any Adventurer that upbringing really did determine who you became.

  …And now Raynesia was leaning forward as if her strength had run out, hugging a large cushion and burying her face in it. She didn’t look like Raynesia at all.

  “It’s useless.”

  There was glass between them, but she’d heard that voice.

  The faint voice had been like a silver bell, but reckless bewilderment clung to it.

  “It’s really no good.”

  Every time she shook the cushion, her smooth silver hair rippled like a waterfall.

  “…Why now? …Why me?”

  It was as if Raynesia’s body had wilted.

  A long, long sigh escaped the princess, and she became a fragile little girl.

  “Things are not going my way—”

  On the wintry balcony, Akatsuki nodded. She understood that feeling all too well.

  There were too many difficult things in the world, and too few things she could do well with her own hands. It was a very frustrating, miserable feeling.

  “Could you make this a little easier on me? …Would you give me a bit of extra help? Would you hold back…just a little, perhaps?”

  Akatsuki had wished these things as well.

  Was there anyone who hadn’t?

  But they wouldn’t come true.

  She didn’t think there was anyone who hadn’t been let down. No one ever got everything they wished for. The things you’d thought you’d gained, the things you thought you’d made, the things that were yours alone… Before long, they all faded, slipping through your fingers.

  It was too trivial, and sometimes she wanted to think that maybe wishing itself had been a mistake. It was so bad it made her think that spitefulness was the chief element in the world.

  “What should I do?”

  Raynesia sounded as if she was at a loss, and so Akatsuki answered her.

  “Discuss it with the Council?”

  “But if I do that, won’t we find ourselves at war with the Adventurers?”

  “Still, you can’t keep it a secret. It’s hard to say we know enough about the situation, but even so.”

  The window had been opened ever so slightly, and Akatsuki had slipped in through it, not even disturbing the curtain, to stand in front of Raynesia.

  She felt something just a little nostalgic. She’d looked down on her liege when his head had been bowed like this. That time was very distant now. The one in front of her wasn’t her black-haired liege, but a silver-haired princess.

  “I really will have to tell, then…?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why is that menace gone at a time like this? He always turned up when he had no business here, and now… He’s truly useless.”

  “Krusty left for Seventh Fall, the Goblins’ castle.”

  “I know. Still, that doesn’t mean… Oh, no, that isn’t it…”

  “…”

  “That isn’t…it?!”

  Raynesia’s head came up as though she’d been stung. The corners of her drawn lips were trembling, and she was trying desperately to compose her expression, but the corners of her eyes were very slightly red.

  “Um, oh. I…”

  Raynesia hastily resettled herself, sitting up straight. Akatsuki stood in front of her. Since the tall princess was dealing with the petite Akatsuki, even when she was sitting down, if she sat up straight, there wasn’t much difference in their eye levels. Possibly because she was uncomfortable, Raynesia lowered her gaze. Akatsuki felt bad for making her feel like that.

  Akatsuki hadn’t meant to eavesdrop either, or to come into the room like this.

  “Wh-what— You, um… You heard…?” Raynesia peeked up at her through her lashes. Akatsuki nodded. Raynesia acknowledged, “Of course you did…” letting the end of the sentence fall in resignation.

  Both seemed to be at a loss for words, and time flowed between them.

  With no help for it, Akatsuki took a sweet red bean bun she’d bought for lunch out of her bag and handed it to Raynesia. The two girls sat on the sofa, side by side, and for a short while, they quietly savored the sweetness they’d torn apart.

  “The criminal’s a Person of the Earth?”

  Raynesia answered Akatsuki’s question, haltingly.

  “Yes, that’s right. A suit of mobile armor has been stolen from the Kunie, a clan that is responsible for guarding the town. Apparently, since the mobile armor is guard equipment, incidents it causes in town won’t be reported, and it’s able to bestow great combat abilities. I’m really…terribly…sorry.”

  “Why?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Why was it stolen? Who stole it?”

  “The person who stole it also seems to be missing. We don’t know whether the person who’s currently using it is the member of the Kunie clan who stole it or not. We don’t know his goal or where he’s hiding, either.”

  “I think he’s hiding in the sewers.”

  “In the sewers?”

  Akatsuki filled her in on what she thought.

  “From what I heard, I doubt he’s hiding outside Akiba. In that case, the sewers are about the only place that hasn’t been searched completely, and where he’d be out of sight.”

  From what she’d heard, the murderer seemed to have acquired the power of a guard.

  Akatsuki had been startled when she’d first heard that, but, if true, it did ex
plain a few things.

  The murderer’s combat abilities had probably surpassed level 100 and were close to level 110. The Adventurers of Akiba were mostly around level 90, so of course they’d be no match for him.

  At the same time, if he was using the guards’ power, he was very unlikely to leave Akiba. After all, if he left, he’d lose his combat power. Considered that way, the number of places he could hide was limited.

  However, capturing him was likely to prove extremely difficult.

  In order to bring crimes committed in town under control immediately, the guards had a teleportation function. When used to punish PKs, this function was reassuring, but when a criminal was able to use it proactively, there was no better escape method.

  Even if one of the big guilds formed a raid force and surrounded him, if all he wanted to do was run, he’d be able to get away for sure.

  “I see…”

  Akatsuki looked at the girl in front of her.

  A daughter of the greatest noble family in eastern Yamato: the House of Cowen.

  A legendary beauty whose name was known throughout Eastal.

  The intermediary between the People of the Earth and the Adventurers, and the central figure in the Zantleaf war.

  The “mystic princess of the silver moon.”

  The girl before her didn’t seem like any of those things. She looked ordinary.

  She wore an expression of depressed anguish, but even so, she was nibbling at her sweet red bean bun. This was a regular girl, the sort you could find anywhere. Not only that, but Akatsuki thought she was probably the same in the other women’s eyes.

  “That’s a problem for you?”

  “It’s a problem.”

  As the two of them nodded, it was likely that neither had the leeway to cope with anything but their respective problems. At the very least, Akatsuki saw herself in this beautiful silver princess.

  Akatsuki’s liege had said something:

  Protect Raynesia, the People of the Earth princess.

  Akatsuki had taken those words to mean “guard duty.” However, just now, she’d realized there was a possibility that that hadn’t been it.

  I wonder what my liege wanted me to protect…

  If it had been about physically protecting Raynesia, there wouldn’t have been any need to come to these tea parties, would there? If the other girl had only wanted to be physically protected, there wouldn’t have been any meaning in hosting the tea parties, would there? Wasn’t she overlooking something important? Something Marielle and Henrietta and the others noticed a long time ago?

  The words Akatsuki wanted to say to Raynesia were, It can’t be helped.

  Lots of unfair things happened. There were lots of things you couldn’t handle, lots of wishes that wouldn’t come true.

  There really was no help for that. Akatsuki didn’t have the ability to draw a miracle to Raynesia, and so the only words she could say to her were It can’t be helped.

  If she were able to add one more thing, it would probably be, You’re doing your best.

  Akatsuki had seen the great achievement she’d pulled off at the lords’ conference. She’d also heard Shiroe’s evaluation of her. And, for a while now, she’d hidden close to her, watching over her. As a result, she could say, You’re doing your best.

  However, was she qualified to say those words to her? The girl was a daughter of the nobility, the representative of the People of the Earth, and she was shouldering a heavier responsibility than the eleven guild masters on the Round Table Council. Akatsuki was uneasy about whether those were words she could say to her.

  When she’d thought that far, Akatsuki realized she personally felt just a little respect for this silver-haired girl. That was why she’d come here every day and watched over her from nearby.

  Even now, when she was frantic to get stronger, when it was hard for her to go home to her own guild house, she’d been on her mind.

  “I’ll go find him.”

  Akatsuki stood up.

  If the one she was looking for was a Person of the Earth, and if he had a special teleportation item, that would give her ways to look for him. He probably spent the day lying low in the sewers, and at night, he used teleportation to infiltrate a place where he could see across the whole town—a place ordinary Adventurers couldn’t get into—and watched the streets.

  “What?”

  “I’ll carry out my duty. I saw that you’re giving it your all.”

  Raynesia’s outstretched hand closed on empty space.

  Having found a clue, Akatsuki had departed through the open window, sortieing into the streets of Akiba again.

  4

  Ten eyes were gazing at silver light.

  The crossing blades drew trails like shooting stars, light bursting forth, only to vanish.

  As if through an agreement, they slipped past each other or struck each other, with a noise of rejection that was more like shards of crystal than metal.

  As Nazuna and her companions watched, the murderer and Soujirou were locked in mortal combat.

  The strikes Soujirou’s weapon, an uchigatana, paid out were incredibly smooth, without the slightest hint of intimidation. However, Nazuna knew that each strike held an unavoidable terror for its target: The slashing attacks seemed slow only because they were so graceful. Soujirou’s attacks saw through his opponent’s evasions, and in contrast to their appearance, were perfectly lethal.

  Yet the murderer repelled Soujirou’s attacks with his grotesque gauntlets and armor.

  It wasn’t proper swordsmanship. His movements were instinctive, his fighting style nearly animalistic. It was colored by a clear joy for murder that only humans felt.

  Almost before the sparks from one deflected attack had vanished, the murderer’s sword struck from a slipshod stance.

  Unlike Soujirou’s, his attacks didn’t follow the etiquette of swordsmanship. In a sense, they were rough strikes.

  However, precisely because they were so haphazard, they were fast and hard to predict.

  In fact, Nazuna’s companion Kyouko had fallen victim to them, and Kawara, whom Nazuna was cradling now, had sustained a serious injury.

  “The boss is amazing…”

  The murmur that slipped from the form between her arms mirrored the thoughts of all the members who waited behind Nazuna.

  They really should have surrounded this opponent and fought as a group.

  Enbart Nelles.

  Level 94, Samurai.

  Nazuna no longer thought that this demon, who was one level above Soujirou, was an Adventurer. The idea that he was a Samurai was ridiculous.

  Nazuna had been watching a Samurai (Soujirou) for a long time now. True, the special-skills system in Elder Tales was diverse, and there were lots of special skills that the Samurai class could acquire. Level changed most skills into more advanced ones, and there were about forty series. It wasn’t possible for a single Samurai to master all of them, but the difference between the skills the murderer in front of her was using and the ones Soujirou used was just too great.

  The stranger wasn’t a Samurai. The way he fought was too different from Adventurers.

  Even so, at first, they’d faced him as a party.

  It had been directly after one of the West Wind Brigade search teams had encountered the murderer and failed to capture him. Soujirou’s group, which had been waiting back at their headquarters, had sortied and engaged the murderer in this narrow alley.

  However, Nazuna’s group’s battle plan—to surround and obliterate him—had fallen apart easily.

  In this alley, in the gap between two ruins, it hadn’t been possible to put together a decent formation. On top of that, there was no one in Nazuna’s party besides Soujirou who could pin down the murderer’s uncanny swordsmanship.

  Kawara, the second vanguard, had been sliced up in the blink of an eye, and Nazuna and the spell casters had taken damage as well. If Soujirou hadn’t dashed forward in one sprint and put pressure on the
murderer, one or two of them would probably have been sent to the Temple by now.

  Nazuna quietly gave her thanks.

  Not because Soujirou had saved them.

  And not for the good fortune of having gotten by without sacrificing any girls in front of him.

  Attacks that would have cut people with sound, if that had been possible, came together over and over. It was evening, and the winter wind was growing dryer, becoming cold enough to crack. The murderer’s sword raced as if to slash that air apart.

  In the midst of a landscape where white mist leaked out even if you tried to hold your breath, Soujirou repelled the attacks.

  It was Soujirou’s Mystery, Clairvoyance.

  Nazuna didn’t understand it completely, but Clairvoyance was a defensive Mystery. Soujirou had told her it saw trajectories that ran through the air. It was a new power he’d acquired. Making free use of it now, Soujirou continued to deflect the murderer’s attacks.

  Soujirou’s usual composure was absent.

  Ordinarily, he wouldn’t have deflected the attacks. He would have let them slip by him, or parried them.

  The fact that he couldn’t do this showed just how fast and sharp the murderer’s strikes were.

  Then a strike he couldn’t fully parry came along, and one of the large sleeves of the armor Soujirou wore, which made him look like a warrior from the Warring States period, flew off.

  Her other companions probably couldn’t tell, but Nazuna bit her lip.

  That attack had burst the defensive barrier she’d been providing to Soujirou. It was a defensive spell that prevented damage to HP by setting barrier magic in advance. In a way, you could say it was invisible, additional HP. Ripples ran across the surface of the pale blue, mirror-like effect, and it shattered. Even if those around her could see it happen, Nazuna, the spell caster, was the only one who could know specifically how much damage it had taken before it fell away.

  The Purification Barrier Nazuna had used had been equivalent to slightly less than 20 percent of Soujirou’s total HP. In other words, in that moment, if the barrier spell hadn’t been there, Soujirou would have lost 20 percent of his health. The attack power was equivalent to that of a raid boss, and it made Nazuna anxious. If he took attacks like that one after another, Soujirou really wouldn’t last.