The Knights of Camelot

by Mamare Touno

  Those two contrary sets of emotions mixed, churning Minori’s heart like a washing machine. She had to say something. She just didn’t know what to say.

  If she was going to stop Shiroe, this was her last chance.

  She had to cough. How many times? Once for “save us”? Twice for “don’t”? In the midst of tears she’d been unable to hold back, Minori coughed once. Then she coughed two more times.

  “What’s wrong? Is there something you want to say?”

  ……I coughed three times. I… No, I don’t want to say anything—Shiroe isn’t… He isn’t our mom or dad. He’s nice, but that doesn’t give us the right to impose! We’d only drag him down. There’s no reason for him to carry us!

  But she couldn’t say the words.

  In a musty, silent room in Hamelin’s guildhall, Minori tried desperately to keep her breathing, which sounded nearly asthmatic, from echoing.

  “I said to cough three times if there was something you wanted to say, didn’t I? Okay. I’ll hurry, so I can hear what it is. I’ve already made up my mind, though. I’ll do what I can. I told you when Touya was with us, remember? ‘A vanguard that can’t trust their rear guard will pay for that crime with their lives. The same goes for a rear guard that can’t trust their vanguard.’ So, when you say you’re okay, I believe you. Believe in me, too. I’ll come to help you, I promise.”

  With the small sound of a severed connection, the telechat cut off.

  Minori curled inward, hugging herself.

  Her nose wouldn’t stop running, and it was all Shiroe’s fault for being selfish and not understanding. Emotions she couldn’t put into words overflowed, and it felt as if there was a storm inside her ears; she didn’t understand herself.

  Still, something warm and certain, something that hadn’t been there an hour ago, had begun to grow inside her.

  5

  When Henrietta opened the door, she saw that all the other participants were there already.

  It had been two days since their raucous celebration, and after a day spent cleaning, the Crescent Moon League guildhall had regained its former calm.

  “What’s happened? Your call was so sudden…”

  “C’mon, Henrietta. Have a seat.”

  Marielle, Henrietta’s guild master, motioned for her to sit.

  The Crescent Moon League conference room—which, until yesterday, had been littered with bottles and the leftovers from their feast—was now neat and tidy, and the air felt fresh.

  Four men and women were seated at the enormous table.

  The Crescent Moon League was represented by its guild master, Marielle; by Henrietta, who was in charge of the accounts; and by Shouryuu, who handled combat and hunting. For all practical purposes, these three led the Crescent Moon League.

  Shiroe sat facing them.

  Oh… Master Shiroe.

  “Mr. Shiroe says he has something he wants to discuss with us.” Shouryuu, who was younger, bowed to Shiroe as he spoke.

  “We dunno what the ‘somethin’ is yet, either.”

  Marielle and Shouryuu’s words aside, Shiroe’s expression was hard. His eyes had a tendency to seem sharp—or rather, he had a habit of staring—but even so, there was a quiet forcefulness about him today. His determination seemed so strong that those endearing round glasses failed to soften the effect.

  Hm…

  Henrietta filed that look away for later.

  Even under ordinary circumstances, Shiroe was a reliable young man. However, this Shiroe seemed like another person entirely. Henrietta thought it might not do to lump them together.

  “Thank you for your time. I’m the one who called this meeting today. …First, I want to thank you for the banquet two days ago. Both you, Mari, and everyone at the Crescent Moon League. Thank you very much.”

  At Shiroe’s words, Marielle waved her hands wildly.

  “Don’t you worry about that! It was nothin’ to write home about, really!”

  Shouryuu also waved his hands, denying any need for gratitude. The banquet had looked impressive, and the food had been superb, but there hadn’t been much actual expense.

  Above all else, the Crescent Moon League members had also enjoyed themselves immensely. The celebration had really been for them as well. The idea that they’d have to formally express their thanks someday was already being discussed within the guild.

  “No, no, it’s perfectly fine. After all, I got to play with darling Akatsuki to my heart’s content.”

  Remembering Akatsuki’s adorable reactions, Henrietta smiled dreamily. Never mind the fact that Akatsuki herself had had tears in her eyes.

  “That aside, then, I’m here on different business today. It’s the opposite of last time: I’ve come to ask for your help.”

  My, my. That’s… Hm.

  Henrietta watched Shiroe from behind her smart, rimless spectacles.

  She couldn’t deny that his request was somewhat unexpected.

  From what she had seen, Shiroe was a strong player with a compassionate personality. He wasn’t the type who would hesitate to help an acquaintance in trouble… The way he had, as ashamed as she was to admit it, helped the Crescent Moon League with Serara.

  On that expedition, Shiroe and his friends had been a fantastic proxy for the Crescent Moon League’s rescue party. No doubt they’d done dozens of times better than Henrietta and the others could have. If he felt he’d be useful and could do something well, Shiroe wouldn’t hesitate to lend a hand.

  But if it was the other way around?

  To Henrietta, in addition to being sensible and compassionate, Shiroe seemed like an introspective and very…clumsy young man. He was far worse at accepting help from others than he was at helping them.

  And now Shiroe was asking for help.

  What sort of request could it be?

  Of course Henrietta had no intention of using Shiroe’s reluctance to ask for help to her advantage and bargaining down their debt of gratitude. No doubt the thought was even further from Marielle’s mind. However, she really did find it odd that the man himself would clearly state that he wanted their help.

  “Ask for anything, Mr. Shiroe!”

  “Yes, he’s right. The Crescent Moon League is in your debt, Master Shiroe.”

  Matching her words to Shouryuu’s, Henrietta gave a welcoming response of her own. Under the circumstances, she had to: The Crescent Moon League really did owe Shiroe a great debt.

  However, at the same time, Henrietta was concerned about Marielle. Ever since Henrietta had entered the room, Marielle had looked rather tense.

  Of course, she was acting friendly on the surface, and Henrietta didn’t have the least suspicion that her consideration or kindness would falter. She’d been friends with Marielle for a long time. She knew full well that Marielle could never dislike Shiroe.

  In that case, though, what was the gravity in Marielle’s expression?

  Does Mari know what Master Shiroe intends to ask?

  Shiroe didn’t smile at Henrietta and Shouryuu’s words. He pushed his glasses up with a finger and went straight to the heart of the matter.

  “Two young players of my acquaintance are…being detained by, or forced to be part of, a certain guild. I want to help them.”

  Shouryuu nodded, responding to Shiroe’s words.

  “It’s that sort of thing, is it? You’d just have to cancel their guild contracts, wouldn’t you? Do you want us to set up a diversion, so you can complete the procedures for removing them from the guild? That’s easy. …Oh. Or did you mean the other thing? Did you want us to take care of them after you’ve gotten them out? To leave them with the Crescent Moon League? Of course, they’re welcome here. The more the merrier; we’d love it.”

  Shouryuu’s reply was cheerful.

  However, at his words, Marielle’s face grew even tenser.

  —I shouldn’t think that’s it. No doubt Master Shiroe could save those two without any assistance from us. He wants our cooperation badly eno
ugh to ask for it formally. What sort of request could it be…?

  “It looks as though this unsavory guild is collecting new players and extorting EXP Potions from them. They’re most likely selling them off to bring in operating funds. I don’t think that in itself is unforgivable.—Not at this point, at least. If asked whether I like it, though, I’d have to say that I don’t.”

  As he continued, Shiroe’s tone was mild, but Shouryuu had frozen.

  Now, when it was too late, he’d finally registered what was being said.

  “That guild… Is it Hamelin by any chance? You’re right; they certainly aren’t a…very good establishment. Not good at all. However, they have major guilds backing them…”

  The doubt Henrietta expressed was only natural. If the guild in question was Hamelin, it numbered Silver Sword and the Knights of the Black Sword among its customers. Both guilds were powerful in Akiba. In terms of combat guilds, they were in the top five.

  “Yes, that’s right. I intend to have them leave.”

  Shiroe said it quite plainly.

  A heavy silence filled the conference room.

  Marielle gave a small sigh.

  So Mari did know, or she guessed…

  That would certainly explain the tension in her expression.

  “H-have them leave? Erm… Do you mean you want to destroy them? That’s— Really? In any case, is it even possible to force a whole guild out? Even if you player killed them right and left, well, you’d probably damage their pride, but I don’t know if you could destroy the entire guild…”

  Shouryuu’s voice was timid.

  Henrietta had that same doubt.

  The only ways to disband a guild were for the guild leader to decide to disband it or for all its members to leave. That was how the system worked.

  It was possible to kill player characters through PKs. However, this world took after Elder Tales: It was gamelike. Here, where resurrection from death happened automatically, killing couldn’t do any serious damage. It might be possible to affect the guild members’ morale or property, but it wouldn’t influence the continued existence of the actual guild.

  That meant that Shouryuu’s doubt—“Is it even possible to force a whole guild out?”—was correct. Logically speaking, it wouldn’t be possible to bring that about through external interference.

  It might be possible for a huge guild to use its abundant resources as bait to lure in all the members of a smaller guild, crushing that guild as a result. She’d heard of similar strategies around Akiba.

  However, even if one poured resources into bribes and fund provision, there was no guarantee that the target guild would collapse. If the Crescent Moon League were targeted by that sort of acquisition maneuver, even if most of the members were lured away, as long as Marielle stayed there and kept fighting by herself, the Crescent Moon League would still exist as far as the system was concerned.

  Destroying a guild was that difficult and that hard to pull off. It wasn’t a matter of picking a target and crushing them. If that had been possible, the current situation in Akiba would have been much different.

  In any case, these words—“Destroy that guild, make them leave”—were the sort of things players yelled as insults or when picking a fight. They were a type of threat, not a genuine plan.

  Shouryuu wondered if he should take Shiroe’s words as an expression of enthusiasm, a sort of goal. A declaration along the lines of “I’m gonna take you down!”

  “No, I mean it literally. I’m going to have them leave Akiba.”

  …But Shiroe denied Shouryuu’s idea point-blank.

  His voice, nearly devoid of emotion, was so calm it was almost cold. Henrietta sneaked a glance at Shiroe’s expression. If she’d seen anger there, or irritation, or determination, Henrietta probably wouldn’t have felt so convinced.

  However, the only expression on Shiroe’s face was a smile so faint it might not have been there at all. Although technically a smile, it only curled the corners of his mouth slightly, and it had nothing to do with amusement or delight. It was a hunter’s expression.

  Shiroe’s mind was already made up to the point where determination was unnecessary.

  Ah… Master Shiroe…

  He was going to do it.

  That was what Henrietta thought right then.

  She also thought it would be pointless to try to stop him. They probably wouldn’t be able to overturn Shiroe’s resolution.

  Henrietta’s father was a professional stockbroker, and she remembered him wearing a similar expression. He wore it when he took on a big gamble or when he was selling desperately in the midst of a panic that rocked the market. He wouldn’t come home for days on end, and when he did come home, it was only to take a quick nap and a shower before he bolted out the door again, and there, in the entry hall, before dawn, he’d smile this same smile. A tiger’s smile.

  At the same time, Henrietta could also understand Marielle’s distress.

  Hamelin was backed by several big guilds. Silver Sword and the Knights of the Black Sword, its customers, were trying to use the increase in experience points from the EXP Pots to transcend level 90. It was a reckless method of growth that only A-class guilds with abundant capital could pull off, but it certainly might be possible to reach the next level that way.

  From an ethical perspective, extorting EXP Pots from beginners and selling them off was a crooked move. It repulsed Henrietta, and if someone were to suggest doing something similar at the Crescent Moon League, she’d oppose it with everything she had.

  However, she couldn’t categorically declare that it was an unforgivable crime.

  Even if there had been heavy mental pressure or some variety of intimidation, the beginners had joined the guild of their own accord, and they were staying there. Since that was the case, the extortion and reselling didn’t violate the rules of the game. And, in this other world, that meant it wasn’t illegal.

  Laws… Laws, hm…? They really are more ephemeral than a mirage on a summer morning. It’s difficult to tell whether they’re there or not. Besides—

  There were feasibility issues as well.

  Say that act—legal or illegal—was evil. Were there any people or organizations in Akiba who could take them to task over it? The answer was no.

  The influence of the big guilds was vast, and no player was quixotic enough to go against them when there was no particular merit in doing so. The members of the big guilds were already using their guilds’ names to win preferential use of all the town’s facilities. Not only that, but their domineering, unkind treatment of players who belonged to smaller guilds was growing conspicuous.

  Under the circumstances, sympathizing with Shiroe’s views would mean making enemies of the big guilds. Marielle’s Crescent Moon League might be small, but it was an organization, and she was its leader. Henrietta was beginning to understand what her severe expression meant.

  Leaving aside the question of what was just, no one had the power, authority, or muscle to serve that justice. That made “justice” no more than pie in the sky. As a result, it didn’t matter whether it existed or not: Nobody even cared. That was the unvarnished truth of the current Akiba.

  Mari…

  Henrietta bit her lip.

  She was indebted to Shiroe. She also liked him as an individual.

  He was, with the qualifier “among men without a shred of cuteness about them,” a young man she wouldn’t mind having as a close friend. However, even so, there were some requests she couldn’t agree to.

  She probably should have stopped Shiroe’s dangerous rampage with a heartfelt warning.

  Still, when she saw that fearless resolution, the words wouldn’t come.

  Shiroe was normally so introspective that it made him look reserved. This was the first time she’d seen him show fighting spirit. Was it all right for someone like her to interfere with it? When she asked herself that question, there was no way she could be confident in her answer.

 
; Watching Henrietta falter this way out of the corner of her eye, Marielle hesitated several times, then opened her mouth.

  “Kiddo… Look, I know how you feel. I really do, but… I… No, y’see, we’re…”

  Her reply was probably meant to be an apology. She wasn’t going to make Henrietta and Shouryuu, the guild’s executives, do it. As the guild’s leader, she was going to turn Shiroe’s request down herself.

  Henrietta knew that Marielle had been prepared for Shiroe to be displeased, or even to hate her, when she began to speak.

  However, Shiroe interrupted her firmly.

  “Mari. I’m sorry, but let me finish. I’m halfway through now. This is still only half. Hamelin is just a bonus. On its own, it’s nowhere near enough. It’s far too minor. A little thing like that is just a reward on the way. At this point, let me be blunt: I don’t like the town’s current atmosphere. It’s petty and uncool and ugly.”

  As the others sat dumbfounded, Shiroe kept speaking, as though he alone had been convinced of everything from the start.

  “…And so I’m going to clean up Akiba. Hamelin is just a side benefit. I’m helping Minori and Touya because they’re my friends, but even that—it’s secondary. There are a lot of other things that we need to do. We can’t waste time on this.”

  Shouryuu, Henrietta, and even Marielle were as still as statues. Shiroe continued talking regardless.

  “When did being a small guild become something bad, something that meant you had to creep and hide? Yes, Susukino was rotten. With only two thousand people, it’s no wonder the strong guilds swaggered around as if they owned it. But Akiba’s our hometown. It’s the main base for more than half the players on the Japanese server. The server’s biggest town. Akiba, uncool, with a nasty, uncomfortable atmosphere, and everyone looking down as they walk… Why should it be like that? That makes it seem as though we were all born to become losers. Occupying hunting grounds, the big guilds’ rapid advances, discord between rivals: I’d never say those things are bad, but I can’t stand to watch myself being strangled like this. Is any of it worth making newbies cry? We’ve been tossed into another world, and we have to work together to survive; is it worth kicking that whole situation to the curb? Sure, there are thirty thousand of us, but there are only thirty thousand of us. Aren’t we underestimating it?—We’re not taking this other world seriously. We’re not desperate enough.”