by Akira Kareno
“That uniform. Ssso you are Willem.”
His voice hissed, like a threatening snake.
Lizardfolk throats differed greatly from those of other races. So when they spoke the official language of the island cluster, their pronunciation was peculiar.
“…Yeah. And you?”
He ignored Willem’s question and said, “Carry these.” He practically threw two long, thin objects at him.
The lizardfolk’s actions seemed so natural, Willem didn’t think too much about it and reflexively extended his hand. But while the load was nothing for a lizardfolk’s fantastic physical strength, it was much too heavy for the muscles of a regular emnetwiht.
Willem couldn’t catch them, and the things fell to the ground. There was the grating sound of metal.
“…This is…”
There were two large swords, securely wrapped in white cloth.
“Thessse are their weaponss. Return them to sstorage.” That was all the lizardfolk said before returning to the airship.
“H-hey!”
“I have nothing to sssay to you. Thosse who are not warriorss may not enter placcess where warriorss ssstand.”
The door closed, swallowing the boulder-like back.
“Ahhh. Don’t mind him. That’s just how he, I mean, Mr. Lizard is.” Ithea spoke lightly. “And while you’re not minding him, it’d be a big help if you carried those swords. As you can see, my hands are pretty full helping Chtholly.”
“…Is she injured?”
“Nah, she just got too into it and became dizzy. Well, if we just dump her in the infirmary, she’ll wake up eventually.”
“I see.”
He lifted one of fallen swords from the ground.
It was a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time, one he knew even through the thick fabric. Even in the faint light, there was no mistaking it.
“Seniorious…right?”
“Oh? Surprised you know.”
Of course he knew. He was a Quasi Brave who had lived through a time when everyone recognized that name.
A swing to the right cut down dragons. A swing to the left sliced through gods. The very first created even when counting among the Carillon. The golden-bronze dragon slayer. The deity crusher. The secret blade within the plain scabbard. Its various nicknames together could fill an entire book—the holy sword of holy swords carried much history and achievement.
The beloved companion of both the eighteenth and the twentieth Legal Braves—the symbol of heroism itself.
“Is he yours?”
“Nope, that’s Chtholly’s. The one I’m compatible with is the other one,” she said, and as if he just remembered, he scooped up the second.
“Valgulious.”
“Sure is. What, you sure know a lot all of a sudden. Did you read our inventory list or something?”
“No.” He shook his head. “It’s a coincidence that I happen to know a lot of swords.”
“Hmm, I’m not sure what kind of humility that is.” Ithea tilted her head.
“Give me that, too.”
“Huh? Oh, wait—”
He scooped up Chtholly, who was still limp, and put her on his back.
Behind them, there was a shrill sound of metal. The airship was taking off from the port.
“…You’re stronger than I thought.” Ithea, now with nothing to carry, waved both her hands as she mumbled.
“It’s my job to support you.”
“Wow, you sure sound cool.”
Willem started walking first. Ithea followed a half step behind him.
“So. How much did you learn about us?”
“…I don’t know anything. All I know is that faeries use the Carillon…I mean, dug weapons…to fight to protect the islands. Something like that.”
“Oohh, that’s pretty close to a bull’s-eye,” Ithea said absently. She looked up to the sky. “It didn’t freak you out? Our lives are disposable. We use the legacy or whatever left behind by those dreadful emnetwiht. Even I think it’s a pretty nasty setting.”
“Don’t call it a setting.”
Yeah, she’s right. That’s exactly what it is.
To put it simply, Braves needed precisely those kinds of settings. The sadder, the better. The more miserable, the more ideal it was. They became stronger through a multitude of settings that would be their job or fate or destiny or whatever. Then, those qualities would simply be reduced to power for controlling the emnetwiht’s legacies.
Whether they wished for it or not, they had nothing to do with those circumstances.
“—A long time ago, I knew people in a situation similar to yours.”
“Ooh, an old tale? Are you trying to seduce me?”
“It’s not long enough to be a tale. I owed a lot to them. So when I heard about you guys, I just couldn’t leave it alone. That’s all.”
“Wow, that was short.”
“I said it wasn’t gonna be long.”
“I guess you did,” she said in a flat tone, kicking a pebble at her feet. “Doesn’t it feel like this is the part where you confide in me and tell me everything, and we start establishing our love for each other? I mean, we’re all the way out here, just the two of us.”
“Did you forget the third person on my back?”
“Chtholly’s, like, the person who wakes up in the middle of it all and watches. Then we start a beautiful love triangle of adoration and jealousy.”
“What’ve you been reading recently?”
“Bursting Triad.”
He’d heard that title before. It was a novel that took place on a fictitious island. If he remembered correctly, more than half the characters in the book repeat a cycle of cheating and adultery in the name of pursuing true love.
Now it made sense. He’d wondered how this group of girls (and Nygglatho) learned generalities about society living by themselves in the forest, and romances were one way to gain knowledge (albeit biased) of the outside world.
“Especially the third book. That is so good.”
“I’m confiscating that. That’s not something for kids to read.”
“That’s tyranny! Who are you calling a kid?! Wait, you know what it is just by hearing the title?!”
On Island No. 28, in all its decadent charm, there was a constant influx of pleasures coming from all different islands. And as Willem went from day job to day job, he’d merely happened to overhear such information. That was all.
In the meantime, he decided to brush off Ithea’s complaints and questions.
“Don’t be so loud. You’ll wake her up.”
As his back swayed slightly, he heard a slight groan.
4. The Valiant and Their Successors
What am I? Willem thought.
He wasn’t a Brave anymore, had no more reason to fight for this shrunken world, and lacked the power to do so.
So all that remained was a flimsy weapons manager.
Someone whose only responsibility was to stay there, like a decoration.
He could disappear at any time. It wouldn’t hurt anyone. An invisible ghost.
Ten minutes later, in the infirmary.
“Why are you here?”
That was the first thing Chtholly said after regaining consciousness.
“I can’t stay by the sick?”
“Who are you calling sick?”
Her face still flushed, her voice caused her lips to actively pout.
“You, obviously. Did you know? The old Braves, the ones you’re emulating, would get extra pay if they got specified illnesses or injuries while on duty. Right at the top of that list was acute venenum poisoning—what you have right now.”
“…I don’t get your jokes sometimes.”
She turned away in a huff.
It wasn’t a joke, but Willem wouldn’t mind if she didn’t believe him.
“Come on, look at me. Let me change the towel on your forehead.”
“No.”
“That’s not something for the sick
to decide.”
“It doesn’t bother me. This always happens, and it goes away if I rest a little bit.”
“Don’t be silly.” He smacked his forehead lightly. “You have to completely drain the poison every time; otherwise, it’ll keep coming back. You’ll reach your limit fast if you just treat it like that.”
“Wow, you sound like a specialist.”
“I am a specialist. I’m an enchantments officer.”
“Hmph.” Chtholly’s eyes turned away again, as though she didn’t want to listen to him.
Actual enchantments officers were originally meant to work the general forging and regulating enchanted machines that supported operations on the battlefield, just as the title implied. A second officer had power and responsibility that rivaled the superior. And of course, a high degree of education and training were generally required in order to reach this position through normal channels.
Willem, however, didn’t have such a past as a member of the Guard. What he mentioned was nothing but a front and didn’t correspond with his actual power—this was common knowledge among the faeries.
“I’m the manager. At least let me worry.”
“I don’t… It doesn’t matter if you’re a manager or whatever. You don’t have to worry about me.”
She didn’t look at him. He couldn’t see her face.
For the time being, he could see her ears were red, so her fever probably hadn’t gone down yet.
“It’s just… Limits and stuff, none of that matters. I don’t have any time left anyway.”
“Time? What are you talking about?”
“Hey, let me ask you something.” Ignoring the confusion in his voice, she responded by queuing up a question of her own.
“What?”
“If. Just if. If I were to die in five days, would you be nicer to me?”
…Silence.
“What?” Unsure exactly what she was after, he inadvertently responded with another question.
“Just answer, even if it’s hypothetical. Would you ask me about my final wish and stuff?”
“Wait. Five days? Where did that come from? You need to tell me more about this; otherwise, I can’t answer.”
“Five days from today, big Six, Timere, will attack Island No. 15.”
Another silence.
“None of the Seventeen Beasts can fly. That’s why Regule Aire stays afloat, even after everything on the surface was destroyed. But only Timere, the hidden Beast No. 6, can both leave itself on the surface and still attack Regule Aire. Its two powers are ripping itself apart and growing rapidly. It can leave its main body down below while tearing into millions of tiny pieces, then let those bits get carried away by the wind. It waits to be lifted onto an island by chance. When it gets there, it’ll grow incredibly fast, absorbing and destroying the island in six to eight hours.”
Silence.
“Of course, Regule Aire has a way to fight this. An interference as big as a Beast would absolutely trigger tactical precognition before it reached the islands. The stronger the fragment, the faster the forecast. And of course, it’s also possible to take preventative measures and prepare for such a thing. That’s how Regule Aire has managed to avoid many attacks from Timere. For hundreds of years.”
Silence.
“About six months ago, they foresaw a particularly large fragment coming. They identified its scale pretty accurately, too. The normal firepower they could deploy to the scene would be no match for it. But a faerie with a dug weapon—”
“—Could defeat it in exchange for her life?”
“…Right. I’d heard it was the perfect size for Seniorious, and I’m supposed to defeat it with a self-destruct suicide attack. As luck would have it.” Chtholly shrugged her shoulders on the bed.
There could be no preferable outcome than the sacrifice of just one person. If her power was insufficient, even by a little, then they would lose a second or third faerie, too. That would probably end up being either Ithea or Nephren—
“Of course, it’s just an example.”
Slowly, Chtholly turned to him.
A mischievous grin. But the smile never reached her eyes.
“Well? If something like that happened, would you listen to my final wish and stuff?”
“Depends on the wish.”
“That’s, um, well, for example…,” she mumbled, her words faltering. “…Like, if I asked you to kiss me, would you?”
Her too?
He considered that it was probably his turn to get flustered or blush, but as Willem didn’t feel like doing any of that, he groaned. “You’re saying you have five days left to live, and that’s what you ask for?”
“I-is that bad?”
He created a circle with his thumb and middle finger. He tensed his middle finger, leveling it close to her forehead…
“Owwww!!”
He flicked her.
“Stop acting like a cheeky kid. You’ve been reading too many of those romance books.”
“N-no, I haven’t, I’ve been reading other kinds of books, too!”
So she isn’t going to deny reading romances.
The things Chtholly was saying were growing odd, either due to her fever or because she was honestly becoming flustered. Not only that, she hadn’t noticed what she was doing yet.
“Wh-what’s wrong with wanting to create some final memories anyway?”
She was probably doing it unconsciously, tightly clenching the silver brooch he’d noticed her wearing a few times before.
“Even if you’ll be gone, you wouldn’t want to disappear, at least, right? You’d want someone to remember you. You’d want someone to be connected with you.”
Tears welled up in her eyes.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I didn’t say that. You’re making an irrational leap to say it’s wrong.”
He placed his hand on her forehead. It was hot.
“I’m saying, don’t sell yourself short by being so desperate that you’d be fine with anyone. Doing that with whoever happens to be nearby will just end badly for you.”
“I don’t care, so come buy it all up while things are cheap! It’s fundamental smart shopping to not let a good opportunity to buy pass!”
“This isn’t shopping with the missus, geez. And if you want to cry, then cry as much as you can while someone’s by your side. Only experts know how to stop crying when they’re alone. I can’t really recommend it to a novice.”
“Shut up. You’re not gonna kiss me, so no talking. I am not crying.”
“It sounds like you are?”
“I’m not.” She insisted stubbornly.
What was I? Willem wondered.
He checked over and over. He was a shell of a Brave who’d lost everything he wanted to protect.
Shells didn’t wish for anything. They didn’t have that power.
“…Honestly.” Willem scratched his head. “Just lie down for a second.”
“No.” Chtholly turned away in a huff.
“Just listen to me.”
“No.”
“I swear, you’re so stubborn.”
He gripped Chtholly’s shoulder forcefully and turned her toward him.
As he did, he drew closer and lightly pressed his lips against the girl’s forehead.
“Huh?”
Chtholly’s entire body suddenly froze.
A great shock caused her brain to reflexively turn on its limiters. Chtholly was unable to process what just happened to her forehead. She only knew that her body had been startled by something, and she locked up.
The sensation she should have felt on her forehead hadn’t reached her brain at all.
“Now I think you’ll listen. Hurry up and lie down.”
“What? Hold on. What was that? I don’t really know.”
“Hurry up.”
Willem snapped his fingers on both hands.
He gripped her shoulder and flipped her over.
“Ahhh!”<
br />
“It might be a little overbearing, but your fever will go down. Close your mouth, just in case.”
“M-my mouth? Huh? What does that mean?”
He placed his hand on her back and felt around her muscles and blood with his index finger.
One characteristic of victims suffering venenum poisoning was that body tissue still active with venenum could lose its functions. So sometimes, the body acted on the assumption it had caught some sort of terrible disease, resulting in a high fever. Symptoms of that sort were common.
However, on the flip side, if Willem could examine her properly like this, he could see where her venenum was pooling.
“Here…and here.”
“Eeee!!”
He pressed down firmly with his finger.
Having been a Quasi Brave as long as he was, it wasn’t unusual for either Willem or his companions to get venenum poisoning. And there were many times when they’d been forced to somehow alleviate the symptoms while still on the battlefield so they could continue fighting.
It was insanely important to prevent their strength from being whittled down in a long battle. That was why Willem had latched on to busy field medics and forced them to teach him this technique.
“Ow, that hurts!!”
“Your venenum is coagulated in your muscles, that’s why. You’ll feel better when I loosen it.”
“I know, but ah! That’s tickli—!”
“Stop moving so much. Stay still.”
“I said, I know, but… Hn, hnng, mmm…”
The “points” were ten spots that ran parallel to one another along either side of the spine.
One by one, he went to each and loosened them with his index finger.
It was like he was pushing through the pools of venenum with healthy blood.
To put it bluntly, the sensation was very similar to relieving stiff muscles with a massage. Well, besides the need to prepare for it beforehand by stimulating pressure points, it was practically the same.
“Haaah…”
He found tiny points of pooled venenum and forced their movement.
At the next point, he did the same thing.
He must have been doing that for ten minutes.
After finishing the treatment, Willem finally released the girl’s body. The majority of the venenum knots had been loosened. As strength returned to Chtholly’s muscles and her blood flow normalized, the body would be able to clear the rest of the venenum on its own.