by Mamare Touno
It belonged to Naotsugu, the guy she’d just been thinking about.
“Dy’eek?!”
As Marielle sprang up, Naotsugu sat down beside her. He’d changed clothes at some point, and he was currently wearing a cool summer tunic shirt and loose trousers.
“What the heck kind of voice was that, Miss Mari?”
“Wow, hon, that’s no fair. Why’d you change?!”
At Marielle’s question, Naotsugu looked away uncomfortably.
“Well… Armor’s heavy, yeah? Somebody else is on duty tonight, so why not?”
When she looked around the area, her bone-weary friends were also sitting up—although they moved sluggishly, like zombies—and seemed to be thinking about at least attempting to change clothes.
“Uuuu. Me, too?”
“You okay?”
“Erg. Not real okay…”
Marielle pressed her hands to her temples. The inside of her head felt numb and heavy from repeated spell use.
Clerics were recovery spell experts. In addition to their unique recovery spells, they could use spells in a wide range of configurations, and in terms of defensive ability and recovery performance alone, they boasted variation that was head and shoulders above the other Recovery classes.
During this group battle, Marielle hadn’t joined a party. Instead, she’d dashed around the combat area as a lone leader. She’d gone around casting recovery spells from the outside, adopting a strategy known as street-corner healing.
She didn’t think that strategy had necessarily been wrong, but the work had been a lot harder than she’d expected. Marielle had never completely drained her MP more than ten times in one day before, and the result had been a crushing headache.
“Maybe you should rest up a bit more, huh?”
“Uuuuuu…”
To be honest, Marielle didn’t really want to move.
“The baths are probably full up, anyway.”
“They’ve got baths?”
Baths were cutting-edge facilities, something that had only recently appeared in Akiba. The idea that there were state-of-the-art facilities in Choushi startled Marielle.
“Well, yeah. The only reason we didn’t have baths in Akiba was because tubs weren’t one of the pieces of furniture Adventurers could make. Or actually, technically, we had tubs, but they were just modeled shapes. They wouldn’t fill up or heat water. Still, that was all, remember? Back when this was Elder Tales, we didn’t need to take baths. The People of the Earth have always wanted baths, and they’ve got the facilities for it.”
“Th-they do, huh?!”
Marielle held her head and let herself fall on her face.
In that case, even in Akiba, if they’d gone to the houses of the handful of People of the Earth who lived there, would they have found baths?
Marielle remembered the time she’d stealthily heated water in the guild kitchen in the middle of the night. She’d been rinsing off in a small washtub when she’d been discovered by Henrietta, and it had almost turned into a huge uproar. Henrietta had been real scary that time. Just remembering it made her expression turn gloomy.
“Anyway, it sounds like they’re full up. We’re crashing the baths at the inn and the village chief’s house. And, by the way, the bath at the inn is guys only, and the village chief’s house is for the ladies.”
“Uh-huh. Gotcha. …I’m gonna cool down here a bit more.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Naotsugu sat cross-legged, settling in.
Marielle slumped on her mantle, which was spread out on the grass.
Pale moonlight shone down on them both.
When a cool breeze caressed her cheek, Marielle glanced over at Naotsugu, moving only her eyes.
As he gazed up at that white moon, Naotsugu was using a big, tropical-looking leaf to fan Marielle.
Oh…
Marielle felt as though her blood, which still glowed and buzzed with the residual heat of the battle, had finally regained a little of its calm. Thanks to this young clown who simply stayed beside her without saying a word, her rattled feelings were growing tranquil.
“Say, hon?”
“What?”
Naotsugu’s laid-back voice brought home to Marielle the fact that the battle was truly over. They’d fought. They’d survived. And they’d managed to successfully defend this town. During the battle, enemy attacks had sent some Adventurers back to the temple in Akiba, but only a few of them.
“We did good, right?”
“Sure we did. We kept the town safe, right to the end.”
Marielle was aware that, right now, she was smiling an even bigger, less controlled smile than normal. It was probably a smile so sickly sweet it didn’t bear looking at. …But she didn’t care about that, either.
Just for now, she wanted to bask in Naotsugu’s consideration as it stroked her cheek under the moonlight.
6
Somewhere, he heard the sound of a distant bell.
The area was filled with a refreshing fragrance and gleaming specks of light.
On top of an elaborately carved marble bier, Rundelhaus sat up.
This is…
Through the window, he could see a starry sky. Apparently it was night.
However, the ornamental plants placed here and there around this stone room gave off a substance like butterfly scales that emitted a strange light and brightly illuminated the space.
I see. This must be…the temple…
Rundelhaus understood. He’d heard rumors about it, but of course he’d never been inside it before. In any case, unlike Adventurers, People of the Earth didn’t worship at the temple. …Even if they did pray at the church.
The temple was one of the special facilities associated with the Adventurers, and it was more of a magical ruin than a religious building. Like the other People of the Earth, Rundelhaus had never used a facility like this one before.
For now… Good, I think I can move.
Still sitting on the bier, he tried carefully moving his body.
Right hand, left hand, both legs, shoulders—nothing seemed to be wrong anywhere. He felt a lingering fatigue in the marrow of his bones, but that was probably an aftereffect of being sent back here and revived.
He’d heard that being resurrected by the temple reduced your experience points. Rundelhaus opened his status screen, and he was startled by how much information it held.
The detail of the status screen for Adventurers was beyond anything he’d imagined: It showed everything from adjusted values for various abilities to subtle equipment bonuses, and detailed bars for MP and HP displayed their values in increments of one-tenth of a percent.
Even as the information dazzled him, he looked at the experience points column. As expected, it had gone down considerably. There was no help for that. Not only had he been sent back and revived, they’d used multiple resurrection spells on him earlier. This drop in experience points was a natural price.
But he hadn’t died.
That alone filled Rundelhaus’s heart to the brim.
He hadn’t particularly longed for the identity or position of an Adventurer. What he’d admired was the way they lived. To Rundelhaus, who’d been born as the third son of a corrupt noble family, the Adventurers’ freedom and their justice that saved people had been dazzling enough to pierce his heart.
Abruptly, something caught his eye. Rundelhaus flipped between tabs on the status screen. What he found there was the word “Adventurer.”
NAME: RUNDELHAUS CODE
MAIN CLASS: SORCERER
SUBCLASS: ADVENTURER
For a little while, Rundelhaus gazed at the letters in blank amazement.
I see. I didn’t have a subclass, did I… That contract put me into a new subclass. If that’s Adventurer, then…
Hastily, Rundelhaus checked the subclass abilities. The ones he saw were unfamiliar, but he’d heard about them in rumors: They were the Adventurers’ abilities. “The ability to return to the temple a
nd resurrect,” “Telechat ability,” “Acquisition and adjustment of experience points,” “Bank safe deposit box,” “Detailed status.” In addition, all sorts of other bonuses were listed as abilities, although Rundelhaus didn’t even know what they did.
There’s so much here… With this much power, I could…
His lost time wouldn’t return. Rundelhaus’s past wouldn’t change. But, from now on, he might not spend any more endless nights ruing his lack of power.
And, best of all, he’d be able to live in Akiba without hiding who he really was, alongside the companions with whom he’d bonded so deeply at the summer camp, who now seemed closer to him than anyone. He might be able to build a home once again. A place where he could be himself.
Rundelhaus remembered.
He remembered an Adventurer who had traveled through, conquering all the dissolute aristocrats.
He had wished he could have been like that person, and at the same time, he had cursed them, thinking he never wanted to be like that. But if he were granted another chance, he would become an Adventurer. Then, Rundelhaus had vowed, he could measure the value of the miracle he had wished for.
This small burial chamber was the spot from which he’d make his second start. The young man with glasses and that serious face had also been an Adventurer. He was someone Rundelhaus’s friends Minori and Touya respected: Their guild master.
I wonder if that Shiroe fellow knows of vistas I do not…
As Rundelhaus basked in the deep emotion of his resurrection, from a distance, loud footsteps approached.
“Rudy!”
The stone door to the room with the altar was flung open with nearly enough force to pulverize it, and Isuzu appeared. From the doorway, she glared at Rundelhaus with a complicated expression on her face, as if she was angry and troubled at the same time.
“Hello, Mademoiselle Isuzu. …Erm, what’s the matter?”
“‘Wh-what’s…the matter’…? No…”
Isuzu strode over to him, then drew herself up to her full height.
Since Rundelhaus was sitting on the low bier, her head was higher than his, and when she stood like that, even if he looked up, it was hard to make out her expression. He heard something that sounded like a damp sniffle, but Isuzu’s voice was definitely angry.
“What were you thinking, pushing yourself like that? What if you’d died? Stupid Rudy!”
“That ‘stupid’ was uncalled for. Some justice is worth carrying through to the end, Mademoiselle Isuzu, even if it means risking your life. Just as it is impossible to set a yoke on Adventurers’ free souls, no one can halt my fight!”
“When I say ‘Wait,’ you wait!!”
“That’s ridiculous—”
“You wait!!”
Isuzu’s voice was dictatorial, and even Rundelhaus got annoyed.
That said, when he thought about why Isuzu was there, he realized something.
Isuzu was the only one of his companions who’d realized that Rundelhaus was a Person of the Earth. In hindsight, Minori seemed to have known as well, but Isuzu was the only one who’d asked Rundelhaus himself, had pressed him with questions, and had cooperated with his wish to become an Adventurer.
Besides, the fact that she was here right now meant she’d used Call of Home to follow him all the way back to Akiba when he’d resurrected.
“I’m, um, sorry… I feel I may have worried you.”
The instant Rundelhaus, who was still seated, spoke those words, a blow hard enough to bring tears to his eyes landed on his head.
Rundelhaus didn’t know why he’d been hit, but he’d lived to be the age he was with the blood of nobles in his veins. He knew very well that when a lady was in this state, there was nothing to do but to fall all over yourself apologizing.
“My apologies. I shouldn’t have done that, Mademoiselle Isuzu.” “I-I’m sorry. I won’t do anything like it again, so…” “Would you at least tell me why you’re—”
Every word he spoke brought two or three more blows down on him. Rudy’s head had been struck so often it was hot, and his mind was growing hazy.
“All right. I’ll do as you say, Mademoiselle Isuzu.”
“Really?”
“Really. I swear on the gods.”
“You’re going to tell me about when you were little, too.”
“Why would you want… —?! A-all right. I’ll tell you.”
“If you do crazy things like that, no matter how many lives you’ve got, it’ll never be enough.”
“I have seen the error of my ways.”
“Okay, then. Shake.”
Huh…?
At those words, Rundelhaus looked up at Isuzu.
Isuzu’s sweet, freckled face was sullen and angry; only her eyes were bashful as she softly put out her hand.
How am I supposed to resist if she looks at me like that?
In response, Rundelhaus gently placed his hand in hers.
Naturally, it was a gesture from another world, one that didn’t exist here. To Rundelhaus, it looked for all the world like the gesture a knight used to escort a lady, only with the roles reversed, and it made him feel terribly embarrassed.
Later on, Isuzu told him it was a gesture dogs used to show their devotion to their masters, and he was furious, but circumstance had him by the scruff of the neck just then, and he was in no position to vent his anger.
Apparently, Rundelhaus was fated to be unable to oppose this freckled girl.
7
Akiba’s first expedition force, which returned home in triumph, would later be called the Conquering Army of the East. This was linked to the fact that the Suzaku Gate Demon Festival incident in Western Yamato, which had been conducted at the same time, was called the Conquering Army of the West.
To be completely accurate, the expeditionary force hadn’t defeated the Goblin King. It had only sealed his plunder army into the Zantleaf Peninsula and annihilated it. Roughly a week after Krusty and his infiltration strike battalion defeated the Goblin General, the entire operation was over.
During that time, Shiroe and Krusty’s group stayed on their guard, half-expecting reinforcements from Seventh Fall, the goblins’ main stronghold, but these never materialized.
They had Seventh Fall under surveillance, just to be on the safe side, and it was thought that an army of several thousand was probably hiding there. That number was about a fifth the size of the goblin plunder army, and if they only paid attention to the numbers, it wasn’t a big threat.
However, speaking only in terms of the troop numbers was a mind-set for considering battle potential back in the old world. In this other world, where the wide vertical distribution in individual fighting abilities ranged from the level of a single foot soldier to the equivalent of a tank, the number of individuals or troops could never be an absolute assessment of war potential. You could say that the recent Akiba expeditionary force had successfully proven this.
The Goblin King was still alive and well in Seventh Fall, and they predicted there were still many large magical beasts as well. The goblin Shamans, who hadn’t participated in the plunder army, were probably also lying in wait.
They had to assume that Seventh Fall still held a threat even greater than troop numbers.
However, they hadn’t left Seventh Fall alone because it seemed difficult to capture. Even if there were a few formidable enemies left, with the Adventurers’ strength, the Round Table Council assumed that subjugation was only a matter of time.
One of the reasons the subjugation of the Goblin King had been postponed was the decision that they ought to conclude treaties with Eastal beforehand.
A few members of the Round Table Council had something else in mind as well.
The Round Table Council had set bounties and issued numerous quests that involved patrolling the hamlets and villages in northeastern Yamato and putting down rogue goblins.
While it was one thing when they were in groups the size of the recent army, when they were i
n squads, the monsters known as goblins weren’t much of a threat. Although they had put together a strategy in advance, the fact that Minori’s group of players, whose levels were in the low 30s, had been able to fight them on equal terms was good proof.
To that end, these subjugation quests were aimed more at beginning or midlevel players than at high-level Adventurers, and the players were so extraordinarily glad to have them that scores of Adventurers rushed out of Akiba. They ran through the forests, fields, and mountains of northeastern Yamato, impressing upon the People of the Earth the fact that the Adventurers were back.
As they whittled away at the minor forces outside the stronghold, Seventh Fall would tighten its defenses even further. If they defeated the Goblin King in advance, by himself, it was likely that the goblin tribes would lose all discipline.
Having lost their sovereign, the goblins might disperse and cause problems they couldn’t predict. In the abstract, this was how Shiroe had persuaded the Round Table Council. In other words, by sealing them away, they were laying the groundwork for their impending assault on Seventh Falls.
Shiroe had used the circumstances only because things had happened to turn out that way, but the people around him kept calling him “black, black,” and it made him feel rather glum. As if there’s any black or white in military strategy… This was what Shiroe had to say, but that self-assessment managed to overlook several points.
Shiroe didn’t know it, but the average Adventurer in Akiba thought that Shiroe had been the mastermind behind the Princess Raynesia campaign. In other words, they considered him a man who’d schemed to win over a sheltered, beautiful, naïve princess with clever words, then send her to the battlefield. As Raynesia’s pure beauty won her increasing goodwill mixed with sympathy, the general estimation of Shiroe’s character was on its way down.
Unaware of this, Shiroe was vaguely concerned that he seemed to be getting more flak than usual, and Henrietta cheered him on: “This is nowhere near the extent of your true blackness, Master Shiroe!” Shiroe had very mixed feelings about this.
During the grace period they’d won from their military campaign, three contracts were concluded between the Round Table Council and Eastal, the League of Free Cities: a basic relations treaty, a treaty of mutual traffic and commerce, and a peace treaty.