by Ao Jyumonji
I’m not convinced, he started to think...
“...but that’s not something I can afford to be saying, huh,” he finished aloud.
My body feels horribly sluggish, but I’m hungry. I should eat something before I go to sleep.
Haruhiro willed himself to get up, sheathing his dagger and fastening his sap to his belt.
As soon as he got down from the bed, he quickly drew his dagger and sap and fell into a combat stance.
“...Too slow,” he said.
This isn’t good enough, he thought. He put away his dagger and sap once more, then drew them. He tried it several times, but it just wasn’t feeling right.
“Aww... Well, I guess it’s fine. No use rushing it...”
You don’t have enough spirit, Barbara-sensei had scolded him many times.
Vigor. Spirit. Backbone.
I know that, though, Haruhiro thought. Even if I want to change, even if I try to change, it’s not that easy. I want to, though. To be more... positive? Always bright and energetic. The kind of guy who can drag everyone along with him. But to still be cautious, and be able to get going when the going gets tough, that’s the kind of leader I want to be.
“...But I’m just an Old Cat, after all.”
Choco’s trade name was Cheeky Cat.
When Haruhiro suddenly recalled that, he felt like he had to sit down.
What good is sitting down going to do? he wondered bitterly. Choco’s gone. We might have been able to become close, but any hope of that is completely cut off now. Dwelling on it won’t do me any good, but I can’t help but think about it occasionally.
“I need to stop...” Haruhiro put away his dagger and sap.
Food. It’s time for food. I should eat. If he got something good to eat, he was sure that would cheer him up.
The moment before he stepped out of the room, he sensed a presence.
There was something out in the corridor.
Ranta? No, if it was Ranta, he’d come in. Shihoru or Yume? If it was them, they’d at least call out. Merry would do the same, so who is it, then? This is creepy. There’s no such thing as being too careful. It could be a thief. Not likely, though.
He used Sneaking to kill his footsteps as he approached the door. Now what?
He decided in an instant. He drew his dagger in his right hand and opened the door with his left. The guy was standing right on the other side of the door. He was pretty tall. Haruhiro jabbed his elbow into the guy’s solar plexus.
“Gah...!”
Without missing a beat, Haruhiro circled around behind him, and was about to stab the man in the neck, when—Wait, I know this guy.
“...Huh? You’re alive?” Haruhiro asked.
“Ow...” The man was holding his belly with one hand and grimacing, but there was no doubt about who it was.
It’s Mr. Tall, Haruhiro thought. From Choco’s party. A ghost...?
No, that’s not it. It can’t be. I thought he died at Deadhead Watching Keep. I was sure Choco’s entire party were wiped out. Was I wrong?
“...Well, sorry for being alive,” the tall guy muttered.
“No—it’s nothing to apologize for... but... uhh, what about the others...?”
“There’s no one but me left,” Mr. Tall said, taking a deep breath. “And I was sure I was going to get killed just now.”
“W-Well, that’s what happens when you just stand there like that,” Haruhiro said. “You can’t blame me for thinking you were suspicious.”
“Is that how it works?” the guy asked.
“That’s how it works.”
“I’ll be more careful from now on.”
“That’d be a good idea,” Haruhiro said. “Well, anyway, I’ve gotta get going.”
“Ah.”
“Huh?” Haruhiro responded.
“...Wait, I wanted to talk.”
“To me?” Haruhiro asked.
“Well, like, you and I are the only ones here, pal.”
“Well, yeah, but—huh? What? What’d you want to talk to me about?”
“Well... I wonder,” Mr. Tall scratched his head. “Uh... can I ask for advice?”
“Huh?”
“Can’t I?” the guy asked.
“Well, I mean—”
Sure, I’m his senior and all, but we’ve never really talked before, Haruhiro thought. I don’t feel like starting now, either. I mean, I do feel sorry for the guy, but still.
Choco’s party had had six people in it. Mr. Tall had lost five comrades all at once, and he’d been left all alone. What had happened to him after that? Haruhiro didn’t know, but if the guy was coming to him for help, he probably wasn’t having a grand old time with a new group of comrades.
“...We can talk a bit while we eat, if that’s fine,” said Haruhiro.
“That’ll do.”
“Okay,” Haruhiro said. “It’ll be my treat.”
I have to question why I’m trying to play the good senior here, but a little sympathy for the guy probably won’t hurt me, he thought. I mean, I know what he must be going through.
The food stall village near the craftsmen’s town was close to the lodging house, so they decided to look for something there. For the moment, soruzo was off the menu for Haruhiro. He might never eat it again.
They went to a stall with every variety of fried meat and vegetable skewer imaginable and ate a bunch of them. Mr. Tall just ate the hot skewers Haruhiro offered him, not trying to say anything.
“Well, that’s fine,” Haruhiro said. “Wait, no, it’s not. Didn’t you have something to ask me about?”
“Ohhh,” the tall guy said. “Yeah, I guess.”
Haruhiro might not be one to talk, but he thought Mr. Tall was awfully brusque. He seemed intensely indifferent and cynical. He stood over 170 centimeters tall, but his posture was awful.
“But, you know, I’ve got something to ask,” the tall guy said awkwardly.
“Sure.”
“A favor, you could say.”
Haruhiro was startled. “From me? A favor? Huh? What...?”
“It’s really hard to say this,” the tall guy said uncomfortably.
“Dragging it out won’t help...”
“Guess not.”
“It may be rude to say it,” Haruhiro said, “but you’re kind of a pain, you know that?”
“Kuzaku,” the guy said.
“Your name?” Haruhiro asked.
“Yeah. My name. You’re Haruhiro-kun, yeah?”
“Well... yeah, I am,” Haruhiro said.
He’s talking to me casually now? Well, it’s fine. I really don’t care.
Haruhiro was definitely Mr. Tall, or Kuzaku’s, senior, but it wasn’t like he’d had a year or two more experience than him as a volunteer soldier, and of the two of them, Haruhiro probably looked younger. Besides, he didn’t like being overly formal.
“You can drop the -kun,” said Haruhiro. “So, what’s this request?”
“It’s about the party,” said Kuzaku.
“Okay. Whose?”
“Yours, Haruhiro-kun... no, Haruhiro.”
“Mine?” Haruhiro asked.
“I mean, I’m alone now.”
“I see.”
“I’ve been thinking I need to join up with some group,” explained Kuzaku. “Gotta keep myself fed and all.”
“You’re not going to get anywhere without an income, yeah,” agreed Haruhiro.
“But, I dunno... Somehow, it feels wrong.”
“What does?” Haruhiro asked.
“Isn’t it a little tough?” the guy asked. “I just lost five comrades and was left all alone. It’s like, can I get along with people who’ve never experienced that?”
“You think they wouldn’t understand how you feel?” Haruhiro asked.
“Hmm... Yeah. Ahh. Not quite. But, it’s the same, I guess. Ah...” Kuzaku held his jaw and let his tongue hang out of his mouth. “My jaw’s exhausted. Haven’t talked this long in a while.”
L
ike that’s my problem, Haruhiro thought. This isn’t going to work. I can’t see myself getting along with Kuzaku. Why? Something’s bugging me. —That’s it.
Back then, Kuzaku had been fighting an orc, his back to the wall as he’d tried to protect Choco. But he hadn’t been able to protect her. Kuzaku had been taken down by the orc, and then Choco had been killed.
Haruhiro sympathized with Kuzaku’s situation. But, buddy, you failed to protect Choco, you know? And despite that, you’re still alive while Choco’s dead. What’s with that?
It wasn’t that Haruhiro thought that in any clear way. Still, there was something that rubbed him the wrong way. That was probably it. Choco was dead, but Kuzaku was alive.
Kuzaku may well have done his best. Kuzaku might have been more miserable than any of them about what happened. There might not have been anything Kuzaku could have done, but Haruhiro couldn’t deny that he felt some antipathy towards him.
“What have you been doing?” Haruhiro asked. “Since then.”
“Learning skills, that sort of thing,” said the tall man. “I had some money. My inheritance, you could say.” Kuzaku pulled on his earlobe, a slight, forced smile on his face. “Other than that, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,”
“And so, you want to join my party?” Haruhiro asked.
“Yeah. Basically.”
“Are you a warrior?” Haruhiro asked.
“No, a paladin.”
“My party’s lost Moguzo, our tank, so you’re thinking you’ll take his place?” Haruhiro asked.
“I’m not thinking that.” Kuzaku looked offended. “I don’t think I could, either. You guys are my seniors. You’re on a different level. In terms of experience, and stuff.”
“We do want a tank, though,” Haruhiro admitted. “Honestly—”
When he’d been at the thieves’ guild being put through the wringer by Barbara-sensei, that was the one thing he’d kept thinking during his rare breaks. That, really, they were going to need a tank, after all. That there might be no choice but to find a warrior or paladin to join the party.
Haruhiro shook his head and sighed. “But... This is just my thoughts on the matter, but it’s too soon. We haven’t come to terms with it yet. Besides, it’s not something I can decide on my own. I can’t give you the response you want. Sorry.”
“I see.” Kuzaku bowed his head a little. “I’m sorry, too.”
It’s not that it doesn’t pain me to do this, Haruhiro thought. But, honestly, I never want to see Kuzaku again.
Moguzo’s gone.
What a serious, serious blow that is.
11. Egoist
“Gwahahaha!” Ranta guffawed loudly.
It felt like the first time in a long time that he’d seen the light of day. Actually, it had been a long time. The dread knights’ guild was underground in the sprawling slums of Alterna’s West Town. Ranta had stayed there for a while to learn two skills. For nine days, he hadn’t set foot outside of that dank, jail-like guild. No, it wasn’t just jail-like. He couldn’t have left if he’d wanted to. If he’d insisted on leaving, he would have left as a corpse. On that point, at least, it was a jail.
The sun should have warmed Ranta’s body, but instead he shivered.
“...Damn, I know I say this every time, but the lords were scary...”
Within the dread knights’ guild, there were a number of dread knights with the position of lord. He didn’t know the precise number, but Ranta had probably met seven of them.
Why “probably”? Because the lords hid their faces, and they never gave their names. He could only distinguish them by their voices and height. That meant there were seven that Ranta could tell apart.
Every last one of them was damn scary. They didn’t show even a hint of kindness, and they were way too merciless. To be blunt, Ranta couldn’t see the lords as fellow humans. If people mastered the way of the dread knight, did they turn out like that?
“They’re damn cool, though,” Ranta said. “I wanna be like that. Lord Ranta, huh. Heh heh...”
Ranta held his throat, coughing to clear it, then tried imitating their voices.
“‘Call me Lord. You are Lord Skullhell’s slave, and I am Lord Skullhell’s slave who will show you the way. There is no need for names for either of us.’ ...Oh-ho! That was cool! Was that cool or what, just now? It was so damn cool! Ow!”
Ranta was whacked in the back of the head, but when he turned to look, there was no one there.
What? Did I imagine it? I couldn’t have, right...? He rubbed the spot where he’d been hit, turned back to face forward, and there was a black-clad lord looking like a hazy shadow as they walked away.
“Urkh... W-Was I overheard?!” Ranta yelped.
“Foolish slave.” The lord stopped, turning the face covered in a reddish black mask to face him. “Will you be embraced by Lord Skullhell?”
“N-No!” Ranta gasped. “I’m good, thanks!”
“What do you mean, you’re good?” the lord demanded.
“Erm, well, I’m good for now, like, I still want to serve Lord Skullhell and, like, I can serve him, like, I’m gonna serve him real good!” Ranta blathered. “I think I can be way, way more useful than I am now, so, uh, l-l-let me go for now! I-I’m begging you!”
Ranta jumped into the air and threw himself on the ground. He ground his forehead against the floor. It was a magnificent kowtow.
“I-I screwed up! I-I was wrong! I’m gonna work myself like a horse, to the bone, with total sincerity, to do the will of Lord Skullhell, so, please! Please, please, please, this once! S-Spare my life, at least!”
“You scum.” The lord left, leaving only those words behind.
Ranta stood up, and—“Whew!”—wiped the cold sweat off his face.
“...Th-That was close. S-Still, you know, wasn’t that the first time I’ve met a lord outside? So the lords go outside like regular people, huh? Well, yeah, of course. They can’t stay underground all the time. Hell, if she took off that mask, I wouldn’t even know who she was. I could meet her at the bar and never realize it. That lord must’ve been a woman. I mean, she had tits. I only know the one female lord, so that must have been her, yeah? Maybe she’s actually hot when she takes off that mask. A total femme fatale, huh. I could go for that... Geh heh heh...”
As he wandered through the twisted streets of West Town, Ranta fantasized about the days of love and lust that would unfold between the two of them once he was finally a lord. The dread knights’ guild forced him into a life of abstinence, so when he got out, he was always pent up.
“I’m a healthy young man, after all,” Ranta said. “You can’t blame me. Yeah.”
Ranta stood in front of Celestial Alley, looking up into the sky. The sun had seemed so bright and warm when he’d first come out, but now it was already evening. The sun was low on the horizon.
“—I’m gonna live your share as well, partner,” he said. “I mean, I’d rather you were here to live it with me. But I’m fine without you. That’s ’cause my legend as the strongest is just getting started. You just sit back and watch me, you idiot...”
Ranta rubbed his eyes and sniffed his nose. He put his hands on his hips, puffing out his chest and laughing loudly. He felt invincible when he did that. No, he didn’t just feel it—he was invincible.
Ranta took a leisurely detour down Celestial Alley. He wasn’t going to silly old Sherry’s Tavern tonight. No, he’d decided on a place with lots of pretty girls to pour his drinks for him. If things went well, he’d take one or two of them home with him, then take things all the way to the finish.
“Yeah, the way I am now... I can do it!” Ranta thrust his hips in the air, then looked around for a place.
The good places were reserved for the regular forces of the Frontier Army, with no volunteer soldiers allowed, so he had to be careful in his choice. Ranta wanted a place that looked like it’d have lots of young, busty girls with an hourglass figure who were kind and considerate, but who’d
become bold once they were alone with him and take the lead.
Ranta walked up and down Celestial Alley a few times before stopping outside one establishment.
The cabaret club, Runrun Paradise.
The exterior looked a bit out of place, but there were girls on the second floor balcony dressed in outfits which left nothing to the imagination. They were shooting intense looks at the passing men and waving to them to come in. Of course, Ranta was being invited, too.
No, Ranta was specifically being invited.
“Heh heh heh... I’m pumped to the max!” he hollered.
Doing everything he could to keep his boiling blood under control, Ranta went to dash through the door to Runrun Paradise.
Then someone grabbed him by the shoulder.
“Hey, Curly.”
“Huh...?!” Ranta yelped.
This was what it felt like to have a bucket of cold water poured on you.
Ranta turned around, ready to visit three thousand punches and seven thousand kicks on the audacious bastard who’d dared touch his shoulder, but when he saw that face, he had an immediate change of heart, throwing himself to the ground and performing a kowtow. It was his second jumping kowtow that day, but considering who he was dealing with, he couldn’t afford to be embarrassed about that.
“I-I-I-I’m sorry...! Wait, did I even do anything?! I must’ve, huh, ’cause we wouldn’t be doing this if I hadn’t! Anyway, I’m seriously, seriously sorry!”
“...What are you apologizing for?” Renji asked.
“Well, I don’t really know why I’m apologizing!” Ranta cried. “...Huh? Is that not it? I don’t need to apologize...? Wait, what’re you doing here, Renji? No, not Renji, Renji-san! Maybe you’re going to Runrun Paradise, too? No, not just going there, but you’re a regular...?”
“Runrun Paradise?” When Renji looked up to the second floor balcony, the girls squealed and shrieked.
That wasn’t all—Ranta saw it. He witnessed it. One of the girls pulled back the already-revealing chest portion of her dress, giving him a peek of her killer boobs. Her makeup was a bit heavy, but she was a pretty girl, and the way Renji didn’t bat an eye at it, just calmly denying it with a “No,” was seriously manly.