by Mamare Touno
One month after the encirclement battle at Zantleaf…
A festival in honor of the conclusion of the treaties was in progress in Maihama.
Many nobles from all across northeastern Yamato had gathered in Maihama’s beautiful, dazzling streets. The Lords’ Council had been temporarily adjourned, and the lords who’d returned to their territories turned right around again and gathered in Maihama. Of course, unlike the Lords’ Council, participation wasn’t mandatory, which meant that a few faces were absent, but most of the noble lords and merchants were in attendance.
The town of Akiba was currently in a period of unprecedented economic development.
The great banquet held in honor of the treaties’ signing was a rare opportunity to make acquaintances among the Adventurers. To the lords, it was a huge chance to push their territories’ specialties and to conclude preferential contracts; their determination not to lose out to other lords combined with the heat of the festival to whip up a cutthroat negotiations war.
Meanwhile, however, it was the same for Akiba’s various guilds: Production and commercial outfits and—if you considered guard duty and transportation—even the combat guilds alike, had looked forward to this banquet as a chance to win all sorts of business opportunities.
In any event, Yamato was presently short on practically every commodity there was, to the point where its collective head was almost spinning.
All the inns in Maihama’s castle town were full, and many private houses had temporarily transformed themselves into guesthouses. The majority of guilds that held business talks here were small or midsized commercial guilds, as well as small guilds that had undertaken guard duty. Add in the peddlers who had come running from Akiba—bringing all the foodstuffs, swords, armor, and anything else they could sell off with the intent of making a windfall profit—and Maihama’s population seemed to have doubled.
The royal palace had thrown itself open and was receiving guests, not only in its rooms for honored visitors and in its guest rooms, but even in the knights’ palace. There, the lords were struggling desperately to conclude exclusive contracts with the major guilds.
Of course, in Earth terms, most of the Elder Tales players were far too young to be truly crafty, and the nobles had the advantage in the negotiations. Even so, the nobles were People of the Earth and weren’t well acquainted with the Adventurers’ demands and inner workings, and this caused frequent confusion.
Since both parties knew they were negotiating with someone they weren’t used to, they tended to think, That’s probably good enough for now, and compromised early. As a result, most of the negotiations ended on a pleasant note.
It was the sort of enormous festival that only happened once in a century.
The People of the Earth ate at all sorts of dining halls; street vendors and restaurants served the ballooning population until they were red in the face. Adventurers were so busy making items—or diligently selling them—that they had no time to sleep. Because everyone was able to make at least a little extra money at the celebration, and because the day’s earnings were spent on drinking or meals that were fancier than usual or clothes that were finer than normal, both consumption and demand were skyrocketing.
The servants at the Court, some of whom were temporary workers, were flying around busily, following the steward’s orders as he attempted to make all preparations to perfection. That said, as was only natural during an uproar like this, it was impossible to provide perfect hospitality, and the ever-serious man in charge of it all seemed ready to faint.
However, it was true that, in that sense, the Adventurers were quite an easy breed to deal with. Most Adventurers were the type who lived by the creed of taking care of themselves, and many were such self-effacing characters that even the simple act of being served at mealtimes made them uncomfortable.
If all the Adventurers had said, like the nobles, that they needed a minimum of three servants or maids just to take meals, change clothes, or bathe, even the Court of Maihama, the largest in the League of Free Cities, would have had to give up.
However, to the aristocrats, the Adventurers were almost shockingly simple, and splendid lifestyles seemed quite foreign to them. As they saw this, the more intelligent the noble, the further they tried to simplify their own lifestyles, at least during the negotiations. As a result, for the duration of the festival, even the self-indulgent, luxury-loving nobles became comparatively reasonable, and the attendants and ladies-in-waiting of the palace of Maihama breathed sighs of relief.
And now the festival to celebrate the conclusion of the treaties, which had pulled in everyone from the royal family to the townspeople—including seasonal workers, artisans, and farmers—had reached its climax.
Riding on a majestic melody played by an orchestra, a grand ball was about to begin in the great hall of Castle Cinderella, at the heart of Maihama.
This great hall was even larger than the one at the Ancient Court of Eternal Ice, and it was illuminated with the glimmer of countless candles and conjured lights. Invitations to the ball had been sent to nobles, the city’s prominent merchants, and the Adventurers, and more than two hundred participants had gathered.
When their host, Duke Sergiad Cowen, announced the commencement of the ball to the guests, who were trembling in anticipation, the music swelled and grew clearer, welcoming the dancers.
But the ball was made abnormal by the presence of the Adventurers, and so the young knights and princesses alike shrank back. In the end, the first pair to step from their ranks was Krusty and Raynesia.
Krusty was the young hero from Akiba who’d saved the League of Free Cities from the threat of the goblins, and the mere combination of his name with that of the granddaughter of Maihama’s House of Cowen—which headed the League of Free Cities—was enough to provoke curiosity. On top of that, this expedition was graced by a story that sounded like a heroic saga: Princess Raynesia had gone alone to the town of Akiba to plead with them, and the Adventurers, touched by her sincerity, had lent her their strength in the spirit of chivalry.
Krusty was a knight of such prowess that he was rumored to have fought the general of the goblin tribes one-on-one and defeated him, but the young man’s quiet, intellectual looks belied that reputation. Behind his glasses, his profile was calm and completely unruffled. His height alone was suited to his profession: He was very tall, but the stolid image that accompanied the words “enormous knight” was nowhere to be seen. Krusty, who wore formal wear with sophistication, was the very picture of a young nobleman.
Meanwhile, Raynesia was said to be the most beautiful young princess in Eastal, the League of Free Cities. Today, she was wearing a comparatively reserved dress. Its satin fabric shaded from pale blue into violet and was delicately embroidered with silver thread. The puffed silhouette that completely covered her shoulders was conservative, but the neckline and the cut of the back were quite enough to capture the eyes of the gentlemen, and they highlighted the grace of her slender, swanlike neck.
The pair had advanced to the center of the floor, and a murmur that could have been praise or a sigh slipped from the people around them. They really did make an extraordinarily attractive sight, as if they’d stepped out of a picture.
“Aren’t you going, my liege?”
Shiroe was in a dark, second-story space that overlooked the great hall, moistening his throat with Black Rose Tea. He glanced to the side.
There was Akatsuki, wearing the lovely dress he’d seen at the Ancient Court of Eternal Ice. (Henrietta had probably put her into it.)
While the pearl-colored dress was the same as it had been before, she was wearing a translucent, royal purple wrap with it today. Against the pale, layered colors of the dress, Akatsuki’s silky black hair looked stunning.
“I’ll pass this time. The leading role belongs to Krusty today. Even if I went, I wouldn’t be much use. …And anyway, it would tire me out.”
As Shiroe spoke, Akatsuki came closer and sat down
beside him, wordlessly.
The balcony held a small table and several chairs, and it felt rather deserted. Ordinarily, it would have served as a place for high-ranking nobles to rest, but the presence of Adventurer guests made the day’s ball a boisterous one, and the court servants probably wouldn’t make it all the way up here.
From their high vantage point, they had a good view of what was happening in the great hall below:
The orchestra, in matching uniforms, focused on performing. Business magnates and old aristocrats taken up in various corners, determined to thoroughly enjoy themselves. Adventurers who seemed a bit nervous. Brave, composed People of the Earth who were talking with knights and merchants.
As a wide variety of human-relation patterns played out, Krusty and Raynesia, having arrived at the center of the great hall, began to dance, their steps as captivating as a riot of blossoms.
“…”
Akatsuki, who had been watching intently, turned back to Shiroe, and their eyes met. Akatsuki opened her mouth. She seemed to be about to ask something, but then, as if she’d given up, she closed it tightly again. She looked completely at a loss, and it made Shiroe feel very gentle.
“Why are you laughing, my liege?”
“I’m not laughing.”
“No, you laughed.”
As Shiroe continued to say that he hadn’t, Akatsuki bore down obstinately. However, abruptly, her tone softened and she apologized.
“I wasn’t much use. Except for during battles, I only held you back, I think.”
“That’s not true, Akatsuki.”
Akatsuki’s words startled Shiroe. The incident had lasted a month from the time they were summoned to the Lords’ Council, and Akatsuki had stayed by Shiroe’s side for the duration, in public and behind the scenes, gathering intel and acting as his bodyguard. Hadn’t they gone to Li Gan’s study together, just the two of them, and come into contact with a corner of the mysteries of this world?
He told her as much, but Akatsuki’s expression was still dejected.
I guess the fact that I’m grateful isn’t really getting through to her…
Shiroe had only been trying to make a place for himself, and then to protect it, and yet this quiet girl had supported his wish the entire time. As Shiroe belatedly realized this, he stood up from his seat, almost without thinking.
“Shall we dance?”
“Huh?”
Shiroe stood, holding out a hand to the startled girl who was staring up at him from her chair. Just at that moment, from the great hall on the floor below, they began to hear rousing applause and the beginning of the second piece.
Light from the brilliantly illuminated hall shone into their dim, second-story balcony from below.
“My liege. I, um… Dancing isn’t really…”
“You were practicing, weren’t you?”
Shiroe took Akatsuki’s hand and drew her to her feet.
He remembered Akatsuki rehearsing footwork in the courtyard that night, at the Ancient Court. That complicated footwork, unlike anything in martial arts, had been the exact set of dance steps Henrietta had taught Shiroe.
His taciturn companion, who seemed like a little girl even though they were the same age, had been secretly practicing dancing, out in the cool air that night. Over and over again: The motions she’d repeated often enough to make them a part of her had been exactly like Akatsuki’s uncompromising character.
Even in this world, the only one who knew about it was Shiroe.
“My liege… Don’t laugh.”
“I’m an amateur at this myself. I won’t laugh.”
On the dark, narrow, second-story balcony, the two Log Horizon members took their first uncertain steps into the waltz that drifted up to reach them.
It was a faltering dance, in which each was hesitant toward the other.
8
The two who danced that same waltz in the midst of great brilliance were Krusty and Raynesia.
To Raynesia, Krusty looked like a huge tiger.
Krusty, who loomed right in front of her like a gigantic wall, was escorting her with steps so magnificent and orderly that they betrayed the image of his title as the general who’d commanded Akiba’s expeditionary army.
His reputation at the court seemed to have settled into that of a handsome, gentle young man (Raynesia had learned as much from the rumors her maids brought her). Raynesia, who knew what he’d looked like on that battlefield, wanted to tell them, “Your eyes are X-marks drawn on with ink.”
He’s a tiger. This person is a monstrous tiger-human!
Some had also commented, For a knight, he’s quite slim, isn’t he… However, this was only because, from a distance, his height made him look comparatively slender. Seen right up close like this, with his arm around her waist, everything from the thickness of his arm to the depth of his chest made her feel very keenly that he was a completely different human—or rather, a completely different creature—from herself.
“What’s wrong, Princess?”
“Nothing at all, Master Krusty.”
Pasting on an expression that would look like a smile to the nobles and Adventurers around them, Raynesia whispered back crossly.
Krusty had lowered his voice as well, and in this great hall, filled as it was with orchestral music and the hum of voices, their whispers would fail to reach those around them.
Some might realize from the movement of their lips that they were whispering about something to each other as they danced, but their expressions and the situation would probably lead them to decide that the conversation was a friendly one.
Raynesia knew the romance-starved court ladies would turn their conversation into whispered sweet nothings in no time. She was actually hearing that sort of thing at that very moment.
“—It’s maddening.”
“What is?”
The most maddening part of it was the attitude Krusty was taking toward the rumors. He didn’t deny them at all. Of course, if he had denied them, his laid-back attitude might have irritated her anyway, but she couldn’t handle having that composure waved in front of her, either.
“It’s nothing.”
“Something seems to have offended you.”
At his words, Raynesia mentally muttered, Yes, you, but the moment she did so, he answered with, “Well, surely it was me,” and left her speechless.
Honestly! Imagine having your own private thoughts responded to! In any case, he doesn’t even sound apologetic.
Thinking of the future, Raynesia sighed.
Her grandfather had shown a marked coolness regarding this whole affair. Eastal, the League of Free Cities, and the Round Table Council had concluded the treaties on the understanding that their relationship was an equal one. In this matter, neither owed a debt to the other.
On the other hand, when the goblins were on the point of devastating eastern Yamato, it was Raynesia, acting as an individual, who had asked for the Adventurers’ help in their time of need. While the League felt the utmost gratitude and respect for their actions, they did not consider themselves to be in the Adventurers’ debt.
Raynesia’s grandfather had told her so, quite plainly.
Put simply, I am to pay back the debt to the Adventurers all by myself…
During this celebration and the festival that would follow, the Adventurers were being treated as guests of honor, but there was apparently no intent to repay them for their war expenditures. That alone was enough to make Raynesia turn pale.
Apart from what she’d said during her speech in Akiba, she’d thought the League of Free Cities would provide at least a little funding or a reward. If this was how things were, she couldn’t pay a single condolence visit to the Adventurers who’d been injured during the expedition.
Even though she was remembering gloomy circumstances like these, possibly as a result of long years of training, Raynesia’s body continued to execute elegant steps half automatically.
One step right. Two more steps
right.
Quarter-turn. Step left. She raised her hand, gently touching Krusty’s fingertips.
A flute like a flowing stream. Raynesia and Krusty danced on the sweet, melancholy tones of violins and melting ecstasy.
“Do you hate the idea so much?”
“It isn’t that…”
The compromise her grandfather and the House of Cowen had proposed was to install Raynesia as an ambassador. Fundamentally, in the lords’ aristocratic culture, ladies were symbolic figures. Although their beauty might be used in politics, it was unthinkable to expect political talents or business abilities from the ladies themselves.
However, according to her grandfather, “Raynesia has climbed out of that protective enclosure of her own accord,” and so, in the future, such consideration would be unnecessary. She had then been ordered to take up the position of responsibility for the embassy that was being established in Akiba. Apparently, from now on, Raynesia would live shuttling back and forth between a villa that had been built in Akiba and Castle Cinderella in Maihama.
You are the one who created this debt, so it’s only good form for you to stay nearby, humbling yourself before the Adventurers from time to time, don’t you think?
Although her grandfather, Duke Sergiad, had spoken those words with a stern face, his eyes had been smiling. It was an unusual expression for him, but he was probably thinking this served Raynesia right.
That thought made her feel more than a little daunted.
“It comes with three meals and naps.”
“Pardon?”
“Three meals and naps are included,” Krusty muttered, in a weary, resigned tone. “The ambassador to Akiba, I mean. Of course Akiba is expected to continue to develop, and the lords will want facilities to handle their business trips, and bases for negotiations. We’re aware that Maihama has gotten in first by putting a villa in Akiba. It will probably have some sort of effect… Still, we are Adventurers, you know. We don’t care as much as aristocrats do about the aristocratic routines of aristocrats. I doubt there will be many tea parties or soirées. Since that’s the sort of town you’ll be coming to, Princess, I imagine you’ll be able to revel in the life of a hermit, with three meals a day and naps.”