WorldEnd: What Do You Do at the End of the World? Are You Busy? Will You Save Us?, Vol. 2

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WorldEnd: What Do You Do at the End of the World? Are You Busy? Will You Save Us?, Vol. 2 Page 13

by Akira Kareno


  And yet, sometimes, failed salvagers announced, “I’ll expose the truth covered by this so-called faith!” and they went up carelessly. Most of them got thrown off course by the thick clouds enveloping the island, sudden turbulence, and storm clouds, and without ever catching a glimpse of their goal, they ended up returning in tatters to the island they came from.

  There were times when salvagers claiming to have seen beyond the clouds appeared. According to the stories they told while battered and covered in injuries, the island wasn’t a naturally floating rock like the other islands but a lump of polished black crystal, and there were countless plants growing naturally on it but the seasons were all off, with both spring and autumn flowers blooming everywhere at the same time, like a chaotic daydream. Of course, there were very few people who believed such idle gossip, and the mystery that was Island No. 2 continued to fly high in the azure sky, shrouded by the veil of the unknown.

  “…That’s a huge black crystal—no, wait, a flowerpot?”

  “Yes.” Suowong nodded casually. “To be more precise, it’s apparently something like a giant talisman, but I don’t know exactly how it works. I don’t feel the need to analyze something that big, either.”

  “Look, the inside of the pot is full of all sorts of trees.”

  “Yes. The island is apparently covered with a small weather-control barrier, completing the seasons inside only. The storm clouds around it are a by-product of it. I’m not exactly sure why it does that. I did hear that it’s a sympathetic model meant to control a larger barrier, though.”

  “You don’t know very much, do you, Great Sage?”

  That remark must have gotten to Suowong, as the wrinkles between his brows deepened.

  “A sage is what someone who knows what they are supposed to know is called. Someone who knows nothing says he must know everything.”

  “Whoa, that was a bug, a bug! This place is full of things that don’t know what season it is!”

  “Listen to me when I talk to you!”

  Island No. 2 was rather small for an island. There didn’t seem to be any place that could be an aire-port. He wondered how they would dock without a place to lock in the anchor arms, but the small airship the Great Sage had prepared easily landed on a flat, open plane.

  “Wow, this is great. Let me have one. It looks useful for shopping.”

  There was quite a distance between the faerie warehouse and the aire-port. That made it a little inconvenient to go shopping on other islands.

  “Don’t be absurd. It is priceless.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  They stepped onto the island.

  It wasn’t a big island; however, it was much bigger standing on it in person. He took a look around, and the unsettling view of plants from all different seasons jumbled together filled his vision.

  “The hell is this? Apples and peaches growing together?”

  “Go ahead and have one if you’re hungry. They’re not poisoned.”

  “Nah, I don’t think so…”

  The thought that they might be using some sort of questionable fertilizer crossed his mind. He would hesitate to touch it, much less put it in his mouth.

  “And? Is that where we’re going?”

  In the center of the island stood something that looked like a black crystal tower, probably made from the same material as the island’s base. As far as he could tell now, it looked like it was the only building there.

  “It’s black, covered in thorns, feels just like an evil temple, so it must be it.”

  “Correct… I’ve known him for a long time, but I still don’t understand his taste.”

  “I’m not so sure if you’re saying that.” He chuckled. “Did you ever get cured of your love for that white cape after five hundred years?”

  “Don’t say it like it’s a disease. This is policy and my very soul itself; I will not be tossing it away even after a thousand years,” he huffed.

  He could feel the tears welling in the backs of his eyes at how nostalgic their conversation felt. He was with a companion he thought he’d never see again, having a sort of chat he thought he’d never have again. That was enough to make him feel so comfortable right in this moment.

  “Hey.”

  “What?”

  “Thanks.”

  “…Why must you thank me now? I do not understand.”

  “Just felt like it. Don’t worry about it.”

  Suowong was the Great Sage, but that didn’t necessarily mean that the Great Sage was Suowong. He had been on his own for five hundred years. He’d gained new things during that time, and he himself must have changed. The way he referred to himself and his manner of speaking couldn’t stay the same as it had been when he was a boy.

  That being said, Suowong now was acting and speaking just like the Suowong from long ago. Why? Probably because Willem was with him.

  Losing one’s companions, loved ones, home, and everything else—Suowong had already experienced this pain once in the past. And he knew that now Willem was in the same situation. So he was deliberately acting the way he used to in the past, in order to help his retrospection, even just a little bit. That was probably it.

  “Why are you grinning? It’s making me uncomfortable.”

  …And it wasn’t entirely impossible that he was just reliving his own childish innocence. He didn’t want to think that after he’d voiced his thanks.

  The tower was empty.

  They pushed open the heavy double doors, headed up the spiral staircase that exuded such an air, and entered something that looked just like a throne room, but it was completely empty.

  “What is the meaning of this?”

  “It is not unusual. The weather is nice today, so he must be out for a walk.”

  “Wha…?”

  “Look, as you can see, there is nothing else on this island besides plants. There is almost nothing to do in one’s free time, so he wanders about outside on nice days.” Suowong neared the window as he spoke. “See, just as I thought.” He motioned downward with his eyes.

  He could see a lone girl wearing a maid’s outfit pushing a cart.

  “…What about her?”

  As he thought absently of how it wasn’t a deserted island, he observed the girl. The angle was too sharp, so he couldn’t see her face, but upon seeing the triangular ears popping out of the top of her head, he could tell she was a semifer…probably an ailuranthrope. Considering how she kept her form despite how heavy the cart looked, he thought she must be proficient enough in cargo transport.

  “Not her. Over there.”

  He directed his gaze the way Suowong was wagging his finger, and there, riding on the cart the girl was pushing, was an armful’s worth of a black something.

  It must be a weight stone, he thought. But something wasn’t right. It was hard to say what that was right away, but it was the texture, or the mass, or something like it—

  “Hey, you piece of trash! We let ourselves in!” Suowong called down with a thunderous voice.

  “—Oh, it’s you, Great Sage! Perfect timing—I was just enjoying a bit of free time!”

  The black thing moved.

  It was a skull. That was the shape it was in, at the very least.

  It was pitch-black, big enough to fit comfortably in the arms of an adult. It looked up at them and moved without anyone touching it and even spoke in a deep, elderly male voice, but even if he ignored all the other things, it was, without a doubt, a skull.

  So, yep.

  At the very least, it was not just any skull.

  “We couldn’t finish our game last time. This time, we shall put a clear divide between black and white!”

  What gave Willem a headache was how he recognized that voice.

  Only two years ago—just to Willem, though, for time had passed hundreds of times longer than that—he had, without a doubt, met the owner of that voice. And that moment was carved into Willem as an intense memory, one he would never be able to fo
rget.

  “My apologies, but I did not come today to make merry or soothe your boredom! I have someone I want you to see, Ebon Candle!”

  Between the top and bottom of the tower, the two elderly men exchanged threatening—yet familiar—words in loud voices.

  “What… We have a guest?! You fool, you mention that first!”

  “I was going to, but you are the one out of your seat! Keep a communication crystal nearby if you’re going to complain! Then I can leave a message before visiting you!”

  “What nonsense! You know communications don’t work around the barrier!”

  “Then you should do something about a problem like that! An immortal pillar of a god should be able to figure out at least that much!”

  “Well, your mouth has certainly gotten bigger after just five hundred years of life, hasn’t it! Wait there—I’ll give you a beating on the board!”

  “I already told you that’s not why I’ve come today!”

  “Oh, right! Kaya, my apologies, but quickly!”

  Ebon Candle called her name, and the maid girl nodded slightly, setting off into a run as she pushed the cart. It made a loud rattling noise as they came around to the front of the black crystal tower and ran up the spiral staircase.

  “—By the way, Suowong.” Willem groaned, pressing his fingers hard on his temples. “I’m having a bad dream right now, right?”

  “I understand how you feel, but face reality. If you want, I can hit you.”

  Suowong brought his tightly balled fist before Willem’s eyes.

  “No, thanks. If you punched me now, I think my head would explode before I woke up.”

  “Well, that’s disappointing.”

  The turbulent rattling was quickly nearing the throne room.

  “Ha, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

  It felt like a strong gust of wind came from the throne.

  The pressure of venenum was so overwhelming he could feel it on his skin without any Sight. Willem knew of only one being that could produce such a thing. Only one.

  “What a long time it has been, Brave of the people! To think the time has come round for us to meet again after so many years; it truly is a coincidence!”

  It was one of the three pillars, a Poteau. They protected the Visitor Elq Hrqstn, enemy of the emnetwiht race, and stood before the group of Braves who tried to attack it, making them the strongest and final barriers.

  “But how unfortunate, in the end, we are beings destined to battle each other! This reunion gave us a miracle, but alas, it cannot escape the path paved with blood!”

  This being had many names.

  Such as, “The One Who Dozes in Death.”

  “The Weaver of Worlds.”

  “The Father of the Great Earth.”

  “The One Who Burns the Flame of Darkness in the Garden of Light”—Ebon Candle.

  It was an old enemy that none other than Quasi Brave Willem Kmetsch defeated in exchange for his own life in battle long ago. However, just as he mentioned on the verge of his own death, he was now reborn in this world after a long slumber—

  “—Nah, I think I’ll pass on that.”

  Willem’s expression twisted in annoyance, and he waved a hand.

  “Hmm, I see. How unfortunate.”

  The skull—Ebon Candle—quickly and easily withdrew its venenum. The overwhelming presence that filled the throne room withered and vanished in an instant.

  “I assumed you had pent-up hatred for me, so I played the role to play on that.”

  “How you show your consideration is fatally ridiculous, you know.”

  “Hmm? Are you saying you feel no hate?”

  “Even if I did, you think I’d bother with a rematch? The last time I fought, I had things I wanted to protect behind me, and you were the thing that was going to destroy it. Now’s different. So I have no need to fight. Right?”

  “To keep no grudges while fighting to the point of throwing your life away… You are a more openhearted man than I thought.”

  “Well, I wasn’t planning on that. But even if I did have a reason to fight, what’s up with you? The Ebon Candle I fought before actually had flesh and bone and a body below the neck. So why are you only a head sunbathing in a cart?!”

  “What do you mean? It was you who burned my body!”

  “Yeah, I know that! But you said you’d wake up after sleeping for a hundred years! You’d usually think that means you would get restored completely! Why’s there barely even half of you?!”

  “Like I said, it was your fault. You destroyed me so thoroughly that my body wasn’t quick enough to regenerate in a hundred years. Do you understand my shock when I woke up? Though I don’t have any tear ducts, as you can see, I wanted to cry!”

  “Like I care!”

  “Since then, however, I’ve continually been in a state where I must use my power, so I haven’t had the chance to recuperate. And so, as you can see, after four hundred long years, I am living in disgrace.”

  As it spoke, the black skull tilted deftly on the throne.

  While he was uncertain if it was “living” in disgrace with a form like that, it didn’t matter right now.

  “—Okay, enough. Suowong. You didn’t bring me here just to say hello, did you? Hurry up and get to the point.”

  “The point?”

  “All right.” With two pairs of eyes on him, Suowong nodded. “This is a terrible man, whose personality, character, temperament, disposition are all rotten, down to his core, but his skills are top-class and reliable. He would be a talent who would be sufficient—no, indispensable for implementing our plan.”

  “Hmm…”

  “Hey, c’mon, Suowong, what are you talking so casually about?”

  “Don’t you want to take back the surface, Willem?”

  “I know when you change the subject like that you’re— The surface?”

  There was a word Willem could not overlook.

  “The surface is devastated, and isn’t it a danger zone where the Beasts run amok? What are you talking about?”

  “We will attack… But of course, the surface is much too big to take it back all at once. First, we attack and conquer the closest point to Regule Aire, the summit of The Holy Peaks of Fistirus, and make it the base of our counterattack. What we need is a way to fight against the Beasts. And a way to continue the fight. Until recently, we’ve lacked the latter. But now that you are here, we are much closer to solving that problem. The Carillon, now in bad condition and unstable, will once again thrust into the battlefield. This is a huge step forward.”

  “Huh,” Willem responded absently, nodding slightly. “That’s a grand plan.”

  “Isn’t it? Of course, it’s a very long-term plan and will require all the cities of Regule Aire to come together and fight. There are big risks, and we may not get results right away. However, the final chance of victory is big enough.” As Suowong spoke, his speech became more and more worked up in excitement. “We can create as many faeries as we want, so our only problem has been the number of Carillon.”

  “Huh?”

  Again, he responded absently, nodding slightly.

  The color in Suowong’s face changed when he noticed his loss of words.

  “No, wait, that was—”

  “No need to patch things up, Suowong. I had a vague idea. Ebon Candle used necromancy in our battle together. The feat of coming back to life after a hundred years has to be an extension of that. And the thaumaturgic spell you cast on yourself as you were holding on has to be in the same category as necromancy. And you two are protecting Regule Aire. Right, I’ve got the gist of it.”

  According to Willem’s research, faeries were lost souls of young children who didn’t understand their own death. They were originally unstable and ambiguous beings, natural phenomena that took the form of will-o’-the-wisps and gnomes. And apparently, there was a technique in necromancy that could create them artificially and put them to work.

  Furthermore, the leprech
auns Willem knew weren’t will-o’-the-wisps or gnomes.

  They might be unstable. They might be ambiguous. But they most certainly had hearts like those of emnetwiht girls. Without a doubt, they experienced hope, fear, love, dreams, attachment, and despair in those hearts of theirs. And on top of that, the girls fought with their lives on the line to protect Regule Aire.

  “Anyone could figure it out with all this information.”

  Indeed. And he could make a guess with firm conviction.

  Willem, driven forth by a strange feeling he could not grasp that trapped him between tears and laughter, put into words the conclusion he came to.

  “You’re the ones producing leprechauns, aren’t you?”

  3. The Flow of Time Since Then

  He’d heard that the end of the hallway on the second floor was leaking recently.

  When he went to go see for himself, he saw how it might require a little handiwork. Since they’d have to call in someone from town later for proper repairs, all he had to do now was some emergency fixing up. He needed some wooden boards and—

  “—Hey, you know where the hammer is?”

  Willem turned around.

  (It’s in the closet downstairs. You used it before! Did you forget already?)

  Chtholly put her hands on her hips and responded in annoyance.

  (Honestly, I don’t know if you’re just forgetful or if your memory’s bad…)

  Her lips pouted, but her complaints made it sound like she was having a bit of fun. But before she could finish complaining, she noticed something off.

  Willem wasn’t looking at her.

  (What are you looking at?)

  She turned around. But there was the hallway, as always. No one was there. Nothing was there.

  “Where’s Chtholly?”

  That was an odd question.

  Willem voiced the strangest thing as he looked around.

  (What kind of joke is this? I’m right here.)

  She complained in a stronger tone than she had before, but Willem just said, “Weird, I thought she was right here,” tilting his head, and didn’t look to her at all.

 

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