by Akira Kareno
“Nothing wrong or right, it just feels like your cool and enigmatic character image is starting to fall apart again.” A pensive look crossed her face. “Oh—I see; I understand. You’re actually the type who can’t put up a tough front unless it’s your own territory, correct?”
“Gh—”
“That is why you don’t know what to do in situations you’re not used to and can only run about in confusion. You’re quite the stereotype of a boy who has no confidence in himself.”
“Urgh—”
That was a terrible way to put it, but sadly, he couldn’t argue.
Nygglatho folded her arms on the desk and rested her chin on top.
“—So flustered and overwhelmed. I’m having so much fun just watching you right now,” she said, casually gouging out his heart.
“You’re a demon.”
“I am a demon. You were mean to me earlier, so this is my payback.” The troll teasingly stuck out her tongue. “Let me just say this while you’re treating me like a demon, but if you stay idle at times like these, your mind will never stop racing in circles. One way to deal with it is to change your environment or even overwhelm yourself with things to do.”
“Hmm. I know your motives. You want me to ask for work, don’t you?”
“That is correct.”
The demon grinned, satisfied.
Willem thought. Though there was a joking manner to their conversation, there was some truth in what the demon woman said.
Continuing to worry about Chtholly and the others itself wasn’t a bad thing. But he had originally planned to spend his days like he always had. And so, he was going to wait for them, just as his family had waited for him to come home, back at the now long-gone orphanage.
Then there was some value in going along with this plan.
So that he may wait, immovable, for them to come home.
“Fine. What are you going to make me do?”
When he responded as such, Nygglatho clapped her hands together.
“It’s a little far, but there’s somewhere I want you to visit,” she said.
3. Ancient Cities and Ancient People
Tiat had a dream.
She was in a place she had never been, looking at scenery she had never seen, talking to someone she had never met. That kind of dream.
No one would think this odd from that alone. Dreams were often like this. If one could dream about actual events, then one could also dream of strange, illogical fantasies.
But for the faeries, it was a different story.
It was almost like they knew it was a special dream the moment they opened their eyes. Without rhyme or reason, they strongly believed it was fundamentally different from normal dreams, where being warm, being scared, having fun, being sad left no marks on the real world.
And they knew it was an omen.
She said it was just a little far.
Now that he thought about it, he should have checked with her then. How far did a little mean, exactly?
He left the island, transferred airships several times, and spent almost a full day in the air.
Just as he was on the brink of exhaustion from traveling all day, Willem finally reached his destination.
Island No. 11, the city of Collina di Luce.
It smelled like stone.
That was the first thing he noticed when he exited the airship gangway.
More specifically, it smelled like stone and brick that held a long history, like cobbled streets that had been stepped on for years, like the people who lived there, like the wind that blew through the town.
There was a market square right by the aire-port. It was apparently the market day, and he could see weathered canvas tents lined neatly in a row. Beyond it was a townscape of vivid reddish-browns and grayish-whites.
Various races of people passed through the town in relatively equal numbers. If he had to pick, it did seem like there were more lycanthropes than others, but even that was nothing more than a hunch. He also caught glimpses of other featureless like Willem himself. It didn’t seem like there was any need to conceal himself with hoods or hats.
“…Wow.” He unwittingly made a sound in admiration. “That’s a surprise. It’s way more like an ancient city than I imagined.”
He’d heard stories about it. With a history of more than four hundred years, it was the oldest city in Regule Aire. It was an unusual place that, in all its time, had never been exposed to the fires of war or been destroyed by invaders from the surface.
That being said, Regule Aire was in the sky to begin with.
Elves would never come attacking from the woods nearby, nor would a sudden surge of orcs come from beyond the horizon. There were no worrying dragons, who spent their idle time burning down houses, and the dreadful Visitors who declared the purge of the entire emnetwiht race were no longer around. By this point in time, nearly everyone had experienced the fires of war.
Also, being in the sky meant that materials were limited. Quarrying stones from the islands, in particular, would essentially mean they were cutting away at the very land they lived on. Naturally, building stone became a comparatively expensive construction material. And a stone-built town used up more than what met the eye.
That was why when he heard this was the oldest among the most prominent cities in Regule Aire, he glossed over it, thinking it was nothing compared to the cities that once existed on the surface. It looked like he was going to have to think over how he’d scorned it.
A golem that looked like a barrel had sprouted arms and legs ran about restlessly, carrying a wooden crate. Willem stopped to make way for it so they wouldn’t crash, and after a brief “Thank you,” it hurried off. Towns thriving in tourism and trade really were a bit different if they were even adding amiability to their golems’ artificial intelligence.
As he thought about this and that, he began to walk.
“Wha—?”
When he noticed his traveling companion wasn’t by his side, he whirled around.
“—Wooooow—”
There stood Tiat, at the top of the airship gangway, the air around her glittering.
Her mouth hung wide open, a mixed expression of delight, surprise, and awe on her face. As if it weren’t enough, she had entirely spaced out.
“Hey, c’mon. Let’s go,” he called to her, but she didn’t respond. Her consciousness had flown off elsewhere.
“Hey.” He went back up to her and flicked her forehead with his finger.
“Ow!!”
“Let’s get going. I’m tired from sitting and traveling all day. Don’t make me work.”
“B-but this is Island No. 11!! The city of Collina di Luce!! The real thing!!”
“Uh, yeah.”
“A place of history! The jewel box of the azure sky! The melting pot of romance and legend!”
She was talking passionately about something. A melting what?
“There are so many stories that use this city as a setting!”
“You’ve been acting like this everywhere we’ve gone since we left No. 68. Every single time we’ve had to transfer, you look around so dazzled like this.”
“That’s because I’ve never left the island before… No! This island and this city are special! An exception!”
She insisted frantically as she broke into a jog and caught up with Willem.
He felt the eyes of the surrounding people gathering on them. The alienating looks given to featureless— No, gentle, appreciative gazes for a heartwarming family outing. They must have been looking at them like a brother and sister from an island on the outskirts who were visiting the city for the first time.
Well, that interpretation wasn’t entirely wrong.
Those girls lived in such a small world, and their universes were limited to the things they saw in books and projections. She probably couldn’t help getting so excited just by leaving the island. Not only that, but this place apparently set the stage for some of her favorite stories. He sort of understood wh
y she was in such high spirits.
“Okay, let’s go. We didn’t come here to sightsee, y’know.”
He sort of understood, but they would get nowhere even if he did respect it.
“Awww, let me indulge a little bit—come on!!”
He tugged on her small hand and began to walk. Her chuckle tickled his back. He thought he was used to being so conspicuous, but for some reason, he just couldn’t stand this atmosphere.
“Ooh, h-hey, can we see that up close?!”
“…What?”
Tiat was gazing at a large plaza, a fountain, and—
“The statue of the great sage of Falcita Memorial Plaza!”
Standing majestically in the center was the statue of an old man.
“Yeah, but…”
He narrowed his eyes and observed the statue. The old man wore an intrepid expression and a hood over his head.
While it might be something artistic, Willem had always been clueless about that sort of stuff. He never really understood emnetwiht art, so there was no way he could ever assess art made by other races. He could have at least made some sort of comment from a man’s point of view if it was a female statue, but since it was of an old man, he couldn’t.
“What is that?”
“It’s a bronze statue of the person who founded this town a long time ago and a classic rendezvous spot for lovers! It sets the stage for so many stories!”
“Stage?”
“Like, in the last scene of The Stars and Wind of Collina di Luce, Rustnose was eating fried potatoes, remember?”
It sounded like Tiat wasn’t interested in the statue for its artistic value.
“I heard a legend that if two lovers give their vows for eternal love before the statue, then they’ll be happy for five years…”
“That doesn’t sound like a very great legend.”
Though they’re supposed to be vowing for eternity, what would happen on their sixth year together? No, that doesn’t matter right now.
“No sightseeing. Don’t forget—you came here for a mission.”
“Urgh…”
That sounded like it was enough to remind her of her position. She lowered her left arm, which she had been waving about in excitement, and dropped her shoulders, too.
“You’re going to be a great faerie soldier one day, like Chtholly.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s…right. I didn’t forget.”
She turned her gaze downward, wriggled her right hand free from Willem’s grasp, and walked off, dragging her feet.
“Let’s go.”
Willem stopped in his tracks. Tiat took ten steps before turning around to look at him.
“What is it?”
“Well…our airship back is scheduled for tomorrow evening.”
“And? So?”
“Once our mission is finished, I’m sure there’ll be time to take a bit of a walk around.”
“…”
It didn’t seem like she understood right away what he meant.
Slowly but surely, Tiat’s mopey expression transformed into a big, bright smile.
She trotted the ten steps back to Willem and snatched his hand.
“C’mon, no dillydallying!”
Yes, my lady, I know.
He bit back his smile and let her lead the way.
Shiver.
Suddenly, a small, odd sensation caressed the back of his neck.
It was a familiar feeling, reminding him of when he worked as a Quasi Brave on the surface.
(…Spite…?)
It wasn’t from just a single source. Several people harbored animosity toward several others. A faint tension, characteristic of the moments just before a dispute, filled the air.
That being said, the scale wasn’t that big, and they weren’t the targets of the animosity.
“What’s wrong?”
“Hmm? Oh, nothing.”
Even in this place, a peaceful tourist spot at first glance—or perhaps because it was a peaceful tourist spot at first glance—lurked the seeds of trouble.
(Well… Whatever…)
He wasn’t in the business of going out of his way to deal with troubles that weren’t headed in their direction.
He decided to let it go and let himself be led through the city.
No one could stand up to the Beasts that were destroying the world without a Carillon.
However, only emnetwiht chosen by the Carillon could use them.
And before even the question of whether or not one was chosen, the emnetwiht as a race were wiped out centuries ago.
So the Beasts could not be stopped. The world was ending.
People were not apt to take such simple logic lying down.
The emnetwiht no longer existed? Then they should simply use a replacement.
There was a race that could do that. There was a small natural phenomenon that lived near emnetwiht since time immemorial, used emnetwiht tools, and helped with emnetwiht work. Things born from the souls of children who died young, as a result of not understanding their own deaths and wandering astray through this world.
Those in the old world were said to take the form of little people no taller than knee-height, but those born in this world took a more human form—specifically, that of young girls. The reasons for such a change were unknown, but it was the perfect form to make them use weapons. And even with this different form, it was likely that their true nature always remained the same:
To stay by the emnetwiht’s side. To help them.
To follow in their steps and copy their work.
They were born for such purposes and would disappear for such purposes.
“…However, it isn’t that every single faerie is able to use dug weapons. While it seems all of them have the proper makeup itself, they won’t bloom if they’re too young.”
“Huh.”
His neck hurt.
The man sitting before him was a giant.
His broad figure, more than double Willem’s size, was bursting with muscle.
He was also bald, had fangs, and wore a lab coat, and the single eye behind his (probably custom-made) black-rimmed glasses glittered intelligently—and his title was Doctor.
“This is a general clinic owned by Orlandry. Regule Aire’s best equipment and medicine are located here. Faeries who dream of omens come here, and we carry out adjustments to their bodies so that they may fight as mature faerie soldiers. Dug weapons are rare, and our foes are mighty. Nothing good comes from forcing a faerie to hold a sword and pushing them to their limit when their body isn’t ready.”
His voice was soft and gentle, and he spoke logically. His physique, on the other hand, was nothing but monstrous. Willem just couldn’t wipe away his unease.
“…So where’s Tiat now?”
The ceiling in the room was exceedingly high, probably built to accommodate the doctor’s body. Willem thought absentmindedly that this was how it must feel for cats and dogs living in a human-size world.
“She is undergoing her physical examination right now. The female doctors are taking care of it in the other room.”
“And so why is it that you, her attending physician, are just sitting around here?”
“I leave all work that can be done by others to others. Anything else, I’ll do personally. Right now, I want to talk to you, Willem Kmetsch.”
Willem cocked his eyebrow. He hadn’t even introduced himself yet.
“No, no, no. No need to be so cautious.” The giant doctor waved both hands. “I didn’t find out about you by any suspicious means; I simply heard the story from Ny’s letter.”
Ny? …Oh, Nygglatho.
“Those are some really suspicious means, don’t you think?”
“Now that you mention it, it certainly seems that way.”
So he agreed. Willem felt a little bad for Nygglatho saying it out loud.
“Anyway, you—”
From far away, he could hear a faint explosion that cut off the giant’s words.
It repeated three times at roughly even intervals.
“A gun?”
“Sounds like it. Probably the Annihilation Knights.”
“…Sorry. I’m not really used to the official language, so I didn’t hear you very well. The what?”
“Annihilation Knights.”
“What kind of knights are those? That sounds like the name of someone who got a little too reckless in their youth and came to regret it five years later.”
“It’s a group of young people who act out here and there because they aren’t satisfied with the current mayor’s policies. They’ve merely declared themselves as knights, but their backers are members of former nobility, so they’re surprisingly legitimate.”
“Huh.”
I see. That’s where the animosity I felt earlier was coming from.
“Either way, there’s nothing calm about guns. Is it like the friction between progressives and reactionaries?”
“Something like that. This was a semifer city a long time ago, but they had strong territorial tendencies. They insist that the history of this town is also their history and don’t think it a very good thing to interact with other races.”
“Wow.”
History. History, huh?
He recalled the people who lived in the capital in the world long ago. Though it only had a history just short of two hundred years, the majority of the people who lived there were proud of, or rather attached to, their city.
“—Pride is essentially the same as arrogance. You prove your worth by associating yourself with something of value. That self-satisfaction can make you stronger.
“You hear it a lot: Medicine can be poison depending on how you use it; the same is true of the reverse.
“Pride is no different. It can be beautiful or ugly depending on how you use it. You oughtta drill that into that head of yours, since luckily or not, you happened to be born to a noble house.”
He brushed away his master’s words that started recounting in his head. Everything he said sounded like that, and it clung to the corners of his mind, refusing to go away. Those words were meant for his other student in the first place, and he had just stood by her, listening.
“Tradition may as well mean nothing in a city where you hear gunfire in the middle of the day.”