by Akira Kareno
—and the cradle for something else birthing from it.
“Another Timere…?”
The lizardfolk soldier murmured, forgetting about his bombardment.
“No,” Nephren, exhausted to the point of collapse, denied under her ragged breath. “The tactical sensors didn’t say multiple Timere would attack. The sensors are absolute when it comes to Timere’s attacks. This is something else.”
“But the artillery isss not working! Isss that not Timere?!”
“By process of elimination, it is a Beast besides Timere that no one knows…?”
“Why’d this thing have to pop up now?!” Ithea cried, half in tears and half in laughter.
Everyone was exhausted due to the long battle. They kept on killing Timere, telling themselves that this would be the last time, that this would be the finishing blow. In the end, this was the situation they arrived at.
The cannonballs and the gunpowder for the cannons the lizardfolk were using had almost emptied out, as had their physical energy.
And a never-ending battle otherwise was draining their morale. The fact that the number of enemies had actually increased, not even to mention whether or not they could kill them, was enough for everyone there to pray for their spirits.
They couldn’t win.
Everyone was thinking it, yet no one could put it into words.
“—We sshall retreat.”
It was Limeskin who announced that, his voice hard.
“In twenty minutess, we sshall lift the ressstraintss covering thiss island. At the ssame time, sssend a warning to all neighboring islandss. We have failed in our removal of the alien enemy on Island No. 15, and the island sshall hencsseforth become a threat to all life asss we cssede territory to the Beasstss.”
“Wait, wait, wait, wait!! That’s really, really bad! Regule Aire is still floating because none of the Beasts can fly at will! We can just start the countdown to annihilation if we let them build a nest so close!!”
“That iss exactly right. That iss why we musst sssink thiss island asss quickly asss possssible. However, thiss island isss big. If we hope to drop the island, then our ussual firepower is not enough. We musst focusss off all Regule Aire’s collective firepower. It will be a racsse against the Beassstsss’ ssspeed.”
“…Let me just ask to make sure, but what will happen if we lose the race?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Uhh, nah, I’m good. Thanks.”
She covered her ears and shook her head.
“—It’s my fault,” Chtholly muttered, her face recognizably pale from even a mile away. “Had I gone into meltdown alone like I was supposed to, then it would have easily gone down. Only because I said I wanted to live, this—”
“No,” Nephren interjected, crouching firmly on the ground, beyond her line of exhaustion. “The tactical sensors can only calculate Timere’s enemy’s strength. Even if you did self-destruct, Chtholly, it would only just barely defeat Timere. That other Beast would have stayed behind. Then we would have ended up fighting this unknown Beast without you. That is a situation infinitely worse than this one now.”
“Man… So rational… This predicament is bad enough as is, but, well, it’s just a bit better than the worst of worst-case scenarios, so you could say you saved us a bit.”
Ithea’s mouth twitched.
“You…think so?”
Chtholly wore an expression of disbelief.
“Yes,” Nephren declared strongly. “They were not enemies we could win against to begin with. Once we decide to consider that so, then we should now think about how we will sink the island.”
“That, too, iss logical.” Limeskin nodded. “Ssshould we gather all the artillery under the Winged Guard’ss dissspossal, then no matter how much we hurry, it would likely take ten nightsss. But if there isss no damage to other islandss in the meantime, then we may begin to ssee the ssseedss of victory.”
“…It sounds like we’d be walking on really thin ice by then, but how certain are you that all that firepower could sink the island?”
“About twenty percssent.”
“Wa-ha-ha, that’s way too realistic; I can’t laugh at that.”
“Absssolutely.”
The lizardfolk general laughed, a sound like a pebble rattling round in his throat.
Oh, right, Chtholly thought.
It was surprising how easily her heart accepted that this world might end.
Nothing felt unusual about that statement. She felt no need to reject it. It felt like something that had shadowed her for her entire life had suddenly come to rest on her shoulders, in her hands.
This world was ending from the beginning. Now it was simply reaching that point.
The end, which had been continually put off, was finally here. That was all.
There was no need to mourn. Everyone would die. Nothing would be left behind. Not a single person would feel sad or lonely. So the best option would be to face the time with mind at ease when it came. Panic and fury would bring nothing good.
(—But I can’t let that happen!)
She unconsciously gripped the brooch at her breast.
She hadn’t forgotten. She had a reason she had to return home alive. She could not die until she stuffed herself full of victory butter cake. She had to live until that blockhead accepted her proposal, even if that meant subsisting off mud. Yep, it looked like she had no choice but to live a long life.
And to do that, she couldn’t let the world destroy her.
Of course, Willem couldn’t die on her, either, and she didn’t want to think about exposing the little ones, who couldn’t fight yet, to danger. So—
A rocking boat.
—Ugh, that encroachment again.
She let her mind slip for a fraction of a moment, and it came bubbling out from the gaps in her consciousness. It was after her own life. How annoying.
She, as an unstable being who was a faerie, might have been in the weaker position, but what did she care? She was alive. She was alive and in the pursuit of happiness. She would never let some person who’d died ages ago take that right away from her.
The moment she decided that, a thought came to mind.
That was not the smart way to do it by any means. If she thought more carefully about it, she could probably think of much better ways. But now, right at this moment, she was limited in thinking time, and she felt like the plan she came up with was already the best plan.
What she needed to put her plan into action was just a bit of resolve.
—Resssignation and resssolve are, in essssencsse, the sssame thing.
—Both indicate the abandonment of sssomething important for the ssake of one’sss goalss.
Right. She would resign, proudly and with confidence. She would abandon what was important to her for her goal. That was what she needed now.
Slowly, she took in a deep breath.
And slowly, she took the time to exhale.
“Chtholly?” Ren called to her, probably thinking she was acting strange. She did not respond.
“I thought of something. First Officer, begin the retreat immediately,” Chtholly quietly advised, staring straight at the squirming Beast. “Ren, Ithea. Help me out. You can fly on your own, and you can get to the airship even if your escape is delayed, right?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m going to break this island.”
She announced, swinging Seniorious in her right hand.
The countless cracks in the blade widened. The faint light indicating the agitation of magic poured from those gaps.
The Carillon were made for weaklings to stand up against overwhelmingly powerful opponents. That was made possible by the mechanism that used the power of whatever came in contact with the blade. The stronger the opponent, the more powerful the Carillon became to confront it.
And now, before them, was a terribly mighty opponent that could destroy the entire world that was Regule Aire.
“Well, then.”
There were only a few seconds left until Timere’s 218th life would finish birthing.
Chtholly kicked off from the ground. The awakened venenum in her body heightened her concentration and stretched out the flow of time. She pushed aside the walls of air that surrounded her in this gray world, now devoid of color, and closed the distance in a single breath.
The vines coiled, ready to attack.
Chtholly deliberately studied the tangle of eighty-seven vines.
Though there were many of them, most of them were bluffs meant as a threat. Sixty-five of them would uselessly smash to the ground if she left them alone, and she would not need to worry about evading them. The problem was the remaining twenty-two. Eight were aiming at her legs to take away her mobility, five were aiming at her arms and Carillon to reduce her offensive ability, and the remaining nine were aiming for her head and chest to end her life. Looking carefully at each one showed they weren’t moving particularly accurately, but since there were so many of them, it would be impossible to avoid them all. If this was a suicide attack, then she would just have to endure the fatal wounds and think about moving forward, but she couldn’t rely on such easy-to-read methods. So—
(First!)
She cut away at the vines aiming for her legs and, at the same time, had Seniorious learn the magic flowing inside the vines that touched the blade. The light pouring from the cracks grew stronger.
Chtholly’s thoughts and physical speed quickened. The increase in speed bought her a little more time. Pushing into that gap in time, she brandished her sword. The five vines aiming for her arms scattered into the air in pieces.
(Next!)
The seven-eyed frog.
The encroachment quickened, too. She couldn’t be bothered about it now, so she ignored it.
The magic within Seniorious grew even more excited from the five freshly cut vines.
The lion that swallowed the snake. A mountain of coins.
The same thing happened again. She concentrated on mowing them down with her blade, as though she was satisfied as long as she could make contact, starting with the ones closest to her. The power she gained every time she did so was enough to give her time for her next flash and next step.
A mountain rising from the sky. A hazy, rain-drenched rural town. Candy in a small bowl.
The distance between them became zero.
She stabbed the Carillon into the entangled mass of vines before her from above.
The sword sliced through several of the vines, penetrated the mass itself, and pierced straight into the earth of Island No. 15.
A burning guidepost. A round rainbow. Castanets playing haphazard noises. A cat of gold-and-silver-streaked fur. A wheel rolling upward. A double-edged knife without a grip. Gloves as large as mountains. A man hanging from a tower—
(—How do—)
Seniorious bellowed in response to Chtholly’s will. The venenum, brimming with overpowering heat, ignored her enemy Beast, releasing all its power into the tip of the blade that stuck into the ground.
“—you like—”
The blade of the Carillon itself dazzled brightly.
Starting from the hilt, the shine gathered its way toward the tip.
“—thiiiiiiiis?!”
All the light vanished into the earth.
There was a short breath of silence.
Fwoom.
There was a low, dull sound that reverberated in her stomach. Cracks appeared in the ground.
They spread out like a spider’s web, enveloping the entire island. Light poured from the cracks. The light widened the cracks from within the ground. The ground split.
The island sank.
The Beast spread its vines wide, haphazardly clinging to the bedrock around it. But the rock it clung to itself was collapsing, so it would not help support it no matter how much it struggled.
As though being buried in the heap of collapsing rubble, the Beast faced the surface and began its fall.
“”
Chtholly thought she heard the Beasts yelling something as they fell.
But of course, she knew it was nothing but her imagination.
“Are—are you out of your miiiiiiind?!”
Ithea flew with her illusory wings, raising her voice in a cry. In the end, she picked Chtholly up, who lay almost clinging to the Beast as she was all out of power.
Nephren, who’d followed her, beat back a hit from the vines that attacked them from behind.
“I can’t believe how reckless…”
They flew to an altitude that was just out of the vines’ reach. Before them, Island No. 15 was beginning to fall.
Though the island had only a 20 percent chance of falling after gathering the entirety of the Winged Guard’s arsenal, it easily collapsed from the power of a single Carillon.
“Chtholly, can you hear me?” Ithea asked, carrying the cerulean faerie.
“Mm… I’m fine; I can hear you…”
“Do you know what you just did?”
“I’m fine… I remember…”
“You’re not fine! Do you remember what kind of situation you’re in? Didn’t I say that pushing yourself will only advance your encroachment quicker?! Something like this means way more than just shortening your life a little bit, you know?!”
“I said… I’m fine; I’m fine…”
Chtholly lifted her head and smiled.
She narrowed her bright crimson eyes and grinned weakly.
“I promised I would go home. Right?”
A fleeting smile, on the verge of vanishing.
“I’ll go home proudly and tell Willem. That because of him, I’m still alive. But we don’t know what tomorrow will bring, so please teach me all you can while I’m by your side.”
There was spirit in her laugh.
“…Oh, but I guess I have to keep the encroachment a secret, huh? I’m sure if he heard about it, he’d get really worried. I want him to stay how he always is: a little lazy but sort of cool and dependable.”
“Oh, geez, you’re not very attractive with your feelings leaking everywhere!”
Ithea embraced her precious friend’s thin frame as hard as she could.
“That hurts, Ithea.”
“It’s proof you’re alive. Deal with it.”
“Oh well,” Chtholly murmured and relaxed.
She promised she would return home.
She could live because of how she clung to that promise.
That was fine. The problem was what came after. Once she fulfilled her promise, once the promise was no more, what would become of her life?
Ithea asked nothing of this natural question. Chtholly gave no answer.
Because she did not want to know the answer.
Because until the day she could no longer run from it, she didn’t want to look.
2. The Protectors of the Azure Sky
There also happened to be an old man here.
Few knew his name, but on the other hand, he himself was very famous. The people referred to him as a distinguished wise man—the Great Sage.
His history was that of Regule Aire.
Let’s say one turned the Grand Senato Library, prided as one of the greatest collections on the island cluster, inside out and found the oldest history book it had to offer. Since it was from a time without papermaking and printing technology like today, it would probably be of thick parchment and handwritten in pen. Flipping through the pages would show the record of the founding of Regule Aire. A time when the surface began to face its destruction, wrought by the Seventeen Beasts released by the emnetwiht. A time when the few remaining survivors had gathered on the summit of The Holy Peaks of Fistirus, unable to do anything in the face of rapidly advancing death. That was when a single man created a road into the sky with powerful venenum and led those still alive onto land in the heavens.
That single man was, in other words, this old man here.
Even the history b
ooks, whose duty was to speak of the past, could not tell of an era older than the wrinkles on the old man’s face.
That was how long he had lived with the land and led the people.
“A man who can adjust dug weapons?”
His sharp, wide stare cut across the corridor. The female prima officer, who brought the news, went pale and shivered in fright.
“Oh—no, I’m not reprimanding you. I was born with this expression in my eyes; no need to be afraid. Never mind that. Was the one who brought this absurd story Baroni Makish again?”
The officer nodded vigorously.
“I swear, that man. Can he not see the simple difference between truth and lies? It is impossible to adjust dug weapons. That would be like the sun rising in the west, or midsummer snow, or the emnetwiht brought back to the land.”
The officer’s head tilted, as though she had a question.
“What?”
He turned his gaze to her, and she gave a little yelp and shrank again.
“—I’m not reprimanding you. If you have doubts, then ask.”
“U-um! It is nothing but captious wordplay! Please, forgive me!”
“Captious… Ahh, were an emnetwiht to be revived, he could adjust emnetwiht weapons, you mean.”
The officer responded, “Yes,” in a faint voice.
“I am telling you not to be so afraid. There is nothing wrong with wordplay; a heart that enjoys fun is precious, especially for those who live a long time. And that doubt is reasonable. Even I, were I in a position where I did not know anything, might think the same. However, it’s wrong.” The old man shook his head. “Dug weapons, or Carillon, are made up of countless talismans and linked together with enchantments—it sounds simple enough when put into words. Discovering new powers through the mutual interference of differing talismans, much less the word refined itself, was a miracle established on a lukewarm balance. Of course, the technology needed for that adjustment was beyond proper course. Would you understand if I likened it to stacking natural stones that were not quarried one on top of the other to reach the heavens?”
“Uh…”
She stared blankly at him.