by Akira Kareno
Willem unconsciously narrowed his eyes at the brightness.
He felt like he could see someone he hadn’t for a long time just beyond it.
“…I just wanted to quickly pay off my debt and head over there,” he muttered with a dry smile.
“Shut up. Just do everything you can,” replied the person beyond the light…or so he felt.
Ah, damn it. Hell. Don’t do this.
How do you think I’ve felt this year and a half?
He scratched his head.
“…Willem?”
His name came from his lap.
“Oh, you’re up. Thanks. You helped me find a lot.”
“…I haven’t done anything to warrant your thanks.” She nimbly turned over on the sofa. “I just reached out because you looked like you would shrivel up if I left you alone.”
“Still, thanks.”
He patted her small head and ruffled her gray hair vigorously.
“Gh—”
She grimaced in annoyance, but she didn’t bat his hand away.
“All right, we should get up now. We have a guest.”
“Wh—?!”
A surprised voice came from the half-open door.
The door creaked slightly. Through the gap, they could see Chtholly, who seemed upset somehow, her eyes narrowed.
“…Um, good morning.”
“Morning. How are you feeling?”
“Huh? Uh, uhm, right. Really good, I think.”
“That’s good. I realized later that I’d never tried that on a child before, so I was a little worried that it might be a little too effective.”
“Guh…”
It looked like she bent backward, taking damage.
“And hmm… Well, you’re right on time, so I want to check something out. Come on, Ren, move your head. It’s morning.”
“Ngah—”
Willem dropped Nephren’s head onto the sofa and stood up.
“So, Chtholly. I hate to ask just after you’ve gotten better, but come with me for my morning exercises.”
She stared up at him blankly, blinking.
The whimsical sky had cleared at some point and become pure blue.
“…Huh?”
Chtholly stood in the middle of the field.
A short distance away, Willem was doing light stretches in loose casual clothes.
Then, before her, Nephren held out a long, thin bundle of fabric—no doubt a dug weapon was inside.
She looked back and forth between Nephren and the bundle, then took it.
It had a familiar feel and weight. If she peeled back the fabric, underneath would be a familiar silvery-white blade. It was currently the dug weapon with the strongest magical resonance factor on Regule Aire—Seniorious.
Why had she been given it at this moment?
“Chtholly, do you like the little ones here?”
“Huh?”
“Are you ready to die to protect their future?”
“That…that doesn’t really matter.”
In a broad sense, Willem was right. But she didn’t feel like she could honestly recognize that. The whole whirlpool of emotions inside her could not so easily be summarized in a word that also included what she was ready for, and she didn’t want to allow herself to use the little ones as an excuse for her death.
“I see. Well, that’s fine.”
Willem also removed the cloth from the dug weapon in his hand.
What emerged was definitely…mass-produced. There were a number of similarly standardized weapons that had been excavated, and their abilities were consistently one rank below the rest.
“Show me the strength I’ve been hearing about. Come at me.”
“WH-WHAT?!”
Chtholly doubted her ears. With their dug weapons, they ranked among the best defense forces in Regule Aire. Basically, she was ludicrously strong. Even lizardfolk armed to the teeth with explosives were no match for her and the others.
So why?
“Do you even understand any of this? You’re making a huge mistake if you think this is an evenly matched fight just because you have a dug weapon. Only us leprechauns can activate them.”
“Eh, we’ll see about that. The result might surprise you if you try.”
“This isn’t a joke. Do you want to be put through the grinder?”
“No thanks. That would only make Nygglatho happy.”
Well, that was true.
“But you won’t need to worry about me like that, not for half a millennium. So just get a move on and come at me.”
“…Okay. If you’re going that far, then…”
Something chilled in Chtholly’s mind.
Now that she thought about it, today wasn’t the first day Willem had said odd things. On top of that, there was another matter she had to question him and Nephren about. She didn’t think it would be a bad idea to display her strength, just once, before having that talk.
She furtively lit her venenum.
Seniorious, sensing its companion was ready for battle, creaked loudly. The countless cracks running along the face of the blade fissured. Then, the faint light that was the manifestation of magic seeped from it.
The current era’s technology was insufficient to understand how dug weapons were made or by what principle they operated. What was decipherable was that dug weapons transformed magic poured into them into power. And that if leprechauns poured all of their magic into them, Six (Timere) could not withstand it. That was enough.
“You said it yourself, so don’t wish you hadn’t—”
She herself cut off the “Okay?” intended to follow.
Chtholly kicked off the ground.
Her concentration, now enhanced by venenum, altered her entire field of view. The colors of the scenery around her disappeared. She felt impatient, as if pushing through lukewarm water. There must have been some twenty regular steps between them, but now she could easily close that gap in just two strides. Her sharp footfalls left shallow holes in the field, but she didn’t care.
It was a complete surprise attack. Willem wasn’t ready. She aimed for the mass-produced dug weapon, which sat at the end of his right arm, sticking out idly at his side. Victory would be hers if she could send it flying. She’d end it all before anyone got hurt.
The distance between them vanished. Willem’s right arm entered Seniorious’s range. No one could keep up with a leprechaun at this speed. Not to mention that Willem, in his formless posture, had no way of escaping or striking back at this range.
—Slash.
(…Huh?)
A blade stuck into her lower left side. It continued upward diagonally, toward her right shoulder. It severed her ribs. It sundered her lungs. The golden tip plunged into her heart and easily ripped it apart.
Her concentration, heightened so much that time stretched out, precisely itemized every wound.
Slowly, a red pool erupted, drawing a beautiful arc in the blue sky.
There was a chilling sense of loss, partnered with the suffocating reality of death.
(Wh…at…?)
(No…this…)
(Wh…y…?)
Fragments of words appeared in her mind and disappeared. She was ready to die, but she hadn’t imagined it would be here. The emptiness of being attacked off guard was sweet yet cold and unbelievably frightening.
Her eyes, open wide in shock, were filled with nothing but the deep-blue sky spread before her…
She fell backward onto the ground.
“Hugyah!”
A cry that sounded like a crushed cat escaped her lungs.
“…Huh?”
Her arms and legs were spread out wide, and she lay on her back.
She stayed like that for a few seconds, staring up blankly, having completely forgotten herself. She spent her final moments in a reprieve before death absolutely dumbfounded.
Then she finally realized something was wrong.
Cautiously, she moved her arm and patted her side. There was no wound. No bl
ood. No pain. Not a single trace on her body of the atrocity that should have befallen her just now was etched on her body.
“What…was…?”
Slowly, she propped herself up.
Seniorious, which she must have let go of at some point, lay on the ground a little ways away.
“You guys have the Carillon’s basic functions figured out all wrong.”
When she heard Willem’s voice, she whirled around.
The young man with black hair just stood there, relaxed.
“They’re not ‘convenient ritual weapons that respond to the user’s force and turn it into power,’ like you think they are. There’s no way these weapons, forged by the ridiculously weak emnetwiht to defeat the overwhelmingly strong elves and dragons, are something that simply raises a weakling’s power. That gap was overwhelming specifically because it couldn’t be bridged with cheap tricks like that.”
He just kept on talking and talking. Her blood started to boil.
It almost baffled her why she felt so angry.
She had a hunch she shouldn’t listen to the rest of what he had to say.
Concentration. Her vision was overwritten again.
She could throw herself out to grab Seniorious, then keep her stance low and rush Willem.
She couldn’t see the attack on her, but she could imagine its nature. It was probably a technique that used her momentum and threw it back at her. All her advantages—the activated dug weapon, quickened senses and judgment through her lit venenum—had completely eliminated in her mind the possibility of Willem responding. She had been struck directly in a blind spot born from pure carelessness. He’d used the power of her normal attack against her. The death she’d hallucinated wasn’t just a delusion. It was the very future that would have befallen her had Willem felt like it.
She would accept that. She still didn’t quite know why, but this person was an extraordinary master.
That’s why—!
But there were certain things she refused to accept. She could not let him deny the way faeries fought with dug weapons or the battles they’d waged clinging to that method.
Chtholly’s body moved faster than it normally did. She hated to admit that was probably thanks to Willem, but she was also grateful. She closed the ten paces between them with two steps. She stopped suddenly just before their blades could touch to throw off his timing, then she leaped. Twisting in the air, she aimed for his shoulder with Seniorious in her right hand. But at the same time, she would plant a kick on his side with her left foot, in his blind spot. Her true intention was to land the latter. She eradicated the difference between their strength and physique with her awakened venenum and speed. If she managed to pull this off, the pain would likely render him unconscious, but he wouldn’t get it if she didn’t do at least that much.
—What?
The momentary question vanished from her mind.
This time, she saw Willem move.
With lazy movements, he stuck his sword into Seniorious’s orbit and, with just a little effort, threw off both Seniorious’s trajectory and Chtholly’s posture ever so slightly. He thrust his left shoulder into the opening he created and gently touched Chtholly’s side with his hand.
For a moment, physics broke down.
Chtholly’s body distorted by itself, and when she thought she had been twisted, she was flung off in one direction.
What…is…this…?!
Again, she could see the cloudless blue autumn sky.
But something was different from last time. This time, she wasn’t dreaming about dying. Her body was somehow still alive.
“Gh…!”
She reached out with her left arm, planting her fingers in the ground in a desperate attempt to stop herself. Her nails left a long, ripping trail in the dirt.
She flipped over, touching her fingertips to the ground, and fixed her posture.
“That was a feat of strength, huh?”
Willem’s astonished tone really irritated her.
She was the one who was supposed to be astonished.
“…What’s the meaning of this?” she demanded, her voice wavering in frustration.
“Hmm? Which part?” he responded, his expression calm.
He immediately caught on that she had a hundred questions.
No longer inclined to rush him, Chtholly walked straight over to him and swung Seniorious. With a nonchalant “Whoops,” Willem stopped the attack with his own sword.
She could see a faint light seeping from the cracks on his sword.
“No matter how hard I try to See, I can’t sense any activated venenum coming from you. But this sword is awake. That’s against the rules!”
“Hey, I was in the middle of explaining that when you attacked me. Carillons, more than anything, are weapons that use the strongest powers of those who touch the blade. The stronger the enemy, the more power they gain. That’s why they can challenge dragons. Cut down gods. So it follows that the venenum you used to activate Seniorious activated my Percival to the same level… Now, then.”
Something shiver inducing crawled down Chtholly’s spine.
An attack was coming. That instinct sped up her thought processes. Color drained from her vision, and her limbs flung her back with all her might. Her momentary evasive maneuver immediately relaxed, and she fell square on her bottom.
In the end, she didn’t know if that move had been the right reaction. Willem never moved. He still stood there, his arm sticking out idly with the sword in his hand, and his expression twisted into one of praise.
“You move well. And you’re decisive. The amount of venenum energy you have is a big deal, too. Not only that, you also have good instincts. Your tactical moves aren’t that great, but you’re not fighting against other people, so don’t worry about that. And you have an overdrive, which is your trump card… Now I can see how you’ve managed to come this far on strength alone,” he said, tossing his sword away.
Chtholly lifted herself from the ground, furrowing her brows, as it might be some kind of trick.
“That’s a relief. You’re strong. And you can grow even stronger. That’s why…you need to come home,” he said, his voice a whisper.
Willem’s body slowly leaned, and he fell on his back.
A cloud of dust puffed up around him. Chtholly stayed on guard. She cautiously continued staring at the sword that had been tossed away while Willem’s two legs pointed straight at her, his arms spread to embrace the sky, and his glassy eyes stared up into the heavens.
…Glassy eyes?
No sooner had Chtholly realized that something felt off than Nephren ran over and checked his heartbeat and pulse.
“Ah!” The other girl didn’t sound surprised at all.
“Wh-what is it?” Chtholly asked, her posture still guarded.
Willem had surprised her enough already. Whatever her friend had to say now wouldn’t faze her. So she wouldn’t faint if anything caught her by surprise. As she told herself all this, she held Seniorious at the ready.
“He’s dying,” Nephren said quietly.
“Huh?” Her voice was completely clueless.
5. The Strong, Mechanized Woman
On the other side of the communication crystal was the face of a boulder-like lizardfolk.
“There have been no changess to our forecassst. We sshhall vissit the universsse I alerted you to previousssly. We musst quickly releassse the eagle and ssharpen our arrowheadsss.”
A lizardfolk characteristic was their roundabout way of speaking, as was how difficult they were to understand when they spoke the official language of the island cluster. It would be very hard for someone unused to it to grasp their meaning.
This is a broad interpretation:
“There have been no changes to our forecast. The attack will take place at the time and place we previously predicted. We must quickly prepare the battlefield and ready our forces.”
“…Hmm, all right, then. I mean, all right,” Nygglatho re
sponded, sputtering at him.
The enemy moving as predicted meant that all their movements would be as planned.
Can’t we do this without having to use these “arrowheads”?!
If she relaxed even the slightest, her mouth would shout what she was thinking of its own accord.
That was why Nygglatho shoved all her feelings deep inside herself. In a corner of her mind, she constructed a different self…an identity that was perceptive, able to choose the best option without hesitation, a machine that could act without being thrown off by her spineless emotions. Then she let that self do all the talking.
“In three days at the eighth bell, we will dispatch three of our current five dug weapon–compatible personnel along with swords from this island are-port.”
Aren’t you all soldiers?! Warriors?! Don’t you eat knowing you will fight at the front lines with the possibility of dying?! Then why don’t any of yours die?! Why is it always our girls who end up victims?!
“One of ours, the spirit compatible with dug weapon Seniorious—faerie soldier Chtholly Nota Seniorious—will be opening the gates to the faerie homeland as we enact our strategy.”
I can’t believe this is your best effort! It can’t be! Fight like your life means it! Think of something better! Fight a different way! Save my kids!
“We will suppose that the other two—faerie soldiers Ithea Myse Valgulious and Nephren Ruq Insania—will be standing ready as reserve forces. In the event that the battle is not resolved once Seniorious opens the gates, they will use their judgment to engage with their dug weapons.”
They’ve never known love. They’ve never known happiness. Why does it all have to end like this?!
“The Orlandry Alliance Warehouse No. 4 offers the above ‘arrowheads’ to the Winged Guard.”
…Why can’t we go in their place?
She knew.
Matured youth had incredibly strong firepower. The high-ranking officials in the Guard knew very well what it meant to fight at their expense. They were probably much more aware as they weren’t at the whim of their sentiments, like herself.
Yet, they would never be able to defeat their attackers if they weren’t truly prepared to eventually lose that firepower forever.
No one could replace them. What could a single cup of water do with a blazing fire that engulfed an entire island? Even if others feared her because she was a troll, in the end, Nygglatho was little more than that cup. She could not protect anything she wanted to keep safe. She could not take anything she wanted to whisk away.