Grimgar of Fantasy and Ash: Volume 1

by Ao Jyumonji

  What he had been dreading happened. How? He had no idea.

  The hobgob threw Haruhiro off its back, slammed him into the ground, then kicked him around. Haruhiro couldn’t breathe.

  Haruhiro said “...H-Help.” Help me. Who was he hoping would save him? He didn’t know. But help came.

  “Smash...!” Manato’s short staff struck the hobgob in the head, but the hobgob was wearing a helmet. Even so, it seemed to have had some effect. He had probably given it a mild concussion. Manato kept striking the hobgob, crying out with each blow.

  “Haruhiro, get up! Run! Everyone, run away...!”

  That’s it, Haruhiro thought, leaping to his feet. That’s what we do. We run. Running is all we can do.

  He started to take off, but quickly stopped. “M-Manato, what about you...?!”

  “I’m coming, too! Obviously! Now, hurry up and go!” Even as he attacked the hobgob, Manato was trying to get away. Moguzo, who was back up after Manato healed his head injury, bellowed, “Thanks!” unleashing a Rage Blow at the hobgob. While it didn’t hit, it did make it back off.

  Ranta and Yume quickly turned and fled. Shihoru was trying to run, too. With a battle cry, the armored gob slashed Moguzo in the back, but thanks to his chain mail, it seemed he was fine. Haruhiro raced to catch up with Ranta, looking back over his shoulder as he went.

  “Manato, that’s enough! Everyone’s gotten away!”

  “I know!” Manato jumped backwards, giving the hobgob a two-thrust combo when it charged after him. The hobgob stopped in its tracks. Manato executed a brilliant change in direction, slipping past the armored gob’s sword. In no time, he was close to catching up with Haruhiro.

  It was too early to breathe easy, though. Haruhiro went to turn around. Just as he did, he saw the armored gob throw something. It spun through the air, probably hitting Manato in the back. Manato let out a grunt, nearly stumbling, so Haruhiro was sure of it.

  “Manato...?!”

  “I’m fine!” Manato steadied himself immediately.

  He’s still got a steady gait, so it doesn’t sound like it’s a deep wound. The hobgob and armored gob are coming after us. We’ve got to run. For now, we just have to run.

  It was a good thing they had made a map. Thanks to the work they had done on it, they had most of the layout of the Old City of Damuro in their heads. That allowed them to avoid getting lost, and to avoid dangerous areas with lots of goblins. Haruhiro and the party ran. Even when their breath ran short, their lungs screamed, and they felt like they were going to die, they kept on running, even after they had lost sight of the hobgob and armored gob for a while.

  Manato was the first to stop running.

  No, that wasn’t it.

  Manato suddenly collapsed onto the ground.

  “...!” Haruhiro tried to call Manato’s name, but he had lost his voice.

  His back. In Manato’s back, it was there — something — a blade, a curved blade, something like a throwing knife.

  No one said anything. They all stared at Manato. They couldn’t say anything. What could they have said?

  “Urkh...” Manato tried to get up. He couldn’t. He just managed to turn over onto his side. “...O-Ow... I think... W-We’re fine... now...”

  “Manato...!” Haruhiro crouched by Manato’s side. But was it okay to touch him? Or not? He didn’t know.

  “Manato, y-your wound, m-magic! That’s right, use magic to cure it...”

  “...Oh, yeah,” Manato brought his right hand to his forehead. It fell limply to the ground. “...I-I c-can’t... do it... I-I can’t... use magic...!”

  “D-Don’t talk!” Ranta shouted. “D-Don’t you talk! Just make yourself comfortable, comfortable... Wait, how are you supposed to do that?!”

  Shihoru walked over unsteadily, sinking to the ground at Manato’s side, across from Haruhiro. She reached out. Her finger touched the throwing knife. The moment it did, she jerked her hand back. Shihoru’s face had gone ghastly pale.

  Manato’s face looked even worse. It wasn’t blanched or livid: it was ashen.

  Moguzo went rigid, standing there like he was some sort of huge ornament.

  “Wh-Wh-Wh...” Yume messed up her hair. “...Wh-What do we do?”

  “What...?” Haruhiro clawed at his chest.

  What do we do? What can we do? Think. There has to be something. There can’t be nothing. Tell me. Please, Manato. Manato.

  Manato was wheezing, his breath unsteady.

  “Y-You’re gonna be okay, all right, Manato? You’re gonna be okay, all right? Just, just hang in there. Hang in there, Manato, all right?”

  Manato looked at Haruhiro, moving only his eyes.

  “Haru...hiro.”

  “Wh-What? What is it? Manato, what is it?”

  “...I’m... so...rry...”

  “Huh? What? S-Sorry? Why? For what?”

  “...Damn... it... Ahh... Why... me....? Haru...hiro... I’m counting... on you...”

  “Counting on me? On me? For what? What do you want from me? Wait, no, Manato, no.”

  “...I... can’t... can’t... see... Is every...one... there...?”

  “We’re here! Everyone’s here! Manato! We’re here! Don’t go!”

  “Ah... it’s... too bad...”

  “Don’t go! Manato! You can’t leave us! Don’t go! Please, Manato...!”

  Manato took a deep breath, then spat it out. In that moment, Manato’s eyes took on a glassy look.

  Shihoru brought her hand to Manato’s chest. “H-His heart’s not beating!”

  “G-Give him CPR!” Ranta shouted.

  It was an amazing flash of inspiration, Haruhiro thought. It felt like they had solved everything, telling each other what to do as they tried to resuscitate him. For minutes, then tens of minutes, they pumped on Manato’s chest after pulling out the knife, and gave him mouth-to-mouth. They must have kept going for over an hour.

  “...I-Isn’t it time we stopped?” Moguzo said, sobbing. “I-I feel bad for Manato-kun... you know.”

  “Fine!” Haruhiro nearly lashed out at Moguzo, but stopped himself. “...Fine, what do we do, then? Are you telling me we should just leave him? Are we just gonna abandon Manato?”

  “Magic,” Shihoru said, lifting her face. Her eyes were swollen and bright red from inflammation. “Maybe we can do something with magic. I mean, there’s magic that heals wounds, after all.”

  “Yeah,” Yume nodded repeatedly. “Yeah, there must be somethin’ we can do. There has to be. Lessee, where was it? The priests guild’s, um, what was it...? Temple!”

  “The Temple of Lumiaris, huh?” Ranta wiped his tears with the back of his hand. “That’s enemy turf for a servant of Lord Skullhell like me, but now isn’t the time to worry about that.”

  Moguzo picked up Manato. “I’ll carry him.”

  Haruhiro nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Any time Ranta or Haruhiro offered to take over carrying Manato, or to help, Moguzo said, “I’m fine,” and refused. Until they made it all the way back to Alterna, and to the Temple of Lumiaris in the northern district, Moguzo really did carry Manato all by himself.

  When they entered the temple, men wearing priest robes with the same blue-lines-on-white-fabric design as Manato’s stopped them. One of them seemed to know Manato, and told another man to go and find Master Honen.

  This Master Honen, whoever he was, came at once. He was a man built like a rock and looked like he’d make a better warrior than a priest. When he opened his mouth to exclaim, “Oh, how terrible,” his voice was abnormally loud, too.

  Come to think of it, Manato had said his master had a big voice and his ears always hurt because of it, hadn’t he?

  As Haruhiro remembered that, unable to bear it anymore, he prostrated himself before Master Honen. “Please, save Manato! I’ll do anything, so please! I’m begging you...!”

  “You fool!” Master Honen roared. “Even the shining God of Light, Lumiaris, cannot save the dead! Manato, how could you be
such a fool?! I recognized you as a youth of rare promise, that is why I attended to your education with such love and care! How could you throw your young life away like this?!”

  “Why, you...!” Ranta went to grab Master Honen, but Yume said, “Stop that!”

  Ranta gave up easily. Likely because he saw the flood of tears coming from Master Honen’s eyes.

  Shihoru fell to the ground, sitting on the cold temple floor. Moguzo stood there unmoving, with Manato still in his arms.

  “Now that this has happened,” Master Honen’s voice didn’t waver, but his tears never stopped, “you must at least give him a proper burial. The curse of the No-Life King turns those who go unburied in the frontier into his servants. You have five days at most. Some have turned into zombies by the third day.”

  Haruhiro felt like laughing for some reason. It wasn’t the time for laughter, and he knew that, but still. “...You mean you want us to cremate Manato?”

  “Indeed. There is a crematorium outside Alterna. Once you have purified the remains with fire so they will not rise again, bury his ashes up on the hill.”

  “Can I ask something?”

  “What?”

  “I assume that costs money, too.”

  “If you cannot afford it, I will pay.”

  “No,” Haruhiro sighed. It was a deep, deep sigh. He was angry. But getting mad just seemed ridiculous. “...No, thanks. It’s not like we don’t have any money. If we don’t have enough, we’ll figure something out. Manato was my—our comrade.”

  12. Which Way?

  They dug a hole in an empty spot halfway up the hill and buried the bones wrapped in a white cloth there. Then, they placed a stone on top that was just large enough that they could still carry it. On the stone, they carved his name. After that, they carved the crescent moon symbol of the volunteer soldiers, painting it red. Trainee or not, he was still a volunteer soldier, and Manato’s grave would carry the red crescent he was entitled to. Looking around, they saw other graves with the red crescent, some with the paint beginning to peel away. Many volunteer soldiers slept here on this hill.

  Haruhiro looked up to the tower on the hilltop with resentment. He and the others had come out of that tower.

  When was that? It must have been less than a month ago, and yet it feels like so much longer. We came out of that tower. Really? I can’t see any entrance or exit to it. Where, and how did we come out from it? I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters anymore.

  50 copper at the crematorium, 50 for the burial plot. One silver in total for the burial. A person was dead, and it only cost one silver. Haruhiro had paid it, but he wasn’t sure he should have. Manato had been carrying seven silver and 21 copper. They had burned his clothes with him, but they had a number of his possessions like his short staff and backpack left.

  What should we do with those? Do we have to do something with them? I don’t want to think about it. It’s too much of a bother.

  Manato’s dead. He’s really dead. It’s been less than a day.

  When they brought Manato to the crematorium yesterday, the manager said they were closed for the day and to come back first thing the next morning. Unsure what to do, they had turned back to the temple, where Master Honen offered to take custody of the body until the next morning. However, they couldn’t bring themselves to just leave Manato behind. In the end, they had stayed up all night, surrounding Manato’s body which had been left in a corner of the temple.

  Right. None of us have slept. Maybe I dozed off for a bit, but I haven’t slept properly. That’s why my thoughts are kind of hazy. Even with all of us sitting here in front of Manato’s grave, it’s just not sinking in.

  Even sitting was too much for Shihoru, who was exhausted from crying. She was leaned over on the ground, somehow supporting her body with both arms. Yume stared up into the cruelly blue sky, looking for birds perhaps. Moguzo had shrunk his big body into a ball, staring into space.

  Say something, Ranta. Why have you been quiet all this time? If you don’t talk, who will? Fine, whatever. Suit yourself.

  Haruhiro tore some grass out of the ground. “It’s weird, you know. This is just weird. It is... isn’t it? Guys?”

  Ranta turned towards Haruhiro, but he said nothing. He looked despondent.

  “You know, Manato once said,” Haruhiro threw the grass away. “This is like a game. I thought the same thing, but what kind of game? I don’t know. But this isn’t a game, after all, is it? It’s something else. Something’s weird here, definitely. This is bullshit... Just bullshit.”

  What did Haruhiro want to say? What was he trying to say? What time was it now? It was well past noon. Evening might be coming soon. There was a bell in Alterna that chimed once every two hours. Once at 6:00 in the morning, twice at 8:00, three times at 10:00, and so on. How many times had it rung the last time he heard it? He couldn’t remember at all.

  Ranta slowly rose to his feet. “I’m out of here.”

  “...Where’re you goin’?” Yume asked, but Ranta just gave a short laugh, apparently having given in to despair.

  “Does it even matter? Anyway... Just staying here forever isn’t going to accomplish anything. We can’t do anything for him now.”

  Even when Yume shouted, “You moron!” at him, Ranta didn’t argue back. It wasn’t like him at all.

  Ranta’s going to leave us, thought Haruhiro, who chased after him. Moguzo went with him. Haruhiro stopped for a moment, turning back to look. Yume was hugging Shihoru around the shoulders. She looked to him, and nodded, or perhaps shook her head, it was hard to tell from a distance, but they would be staying here a little longer, that’s what he thought she was trying to tell him.

  Is Shihoru gonna be okay? She’s in shock, I’ll bet. Even more than I am, probably. Because I’m pretty sure Shihoru was in love with Manato.

  Ranta looked like he planned to head back to Alterna. Haruhiro was about to ask him where he was going, but stopped short. It didn’t really matter.

  Before they reached Flower Garden Street in the north quarter, the bell rang seven times.

  It’s already 6:00 in the evening, little wonder there are so many people out.

  Ranta entered a large tavern. There was a sign out front identifying it as Sherry’s Tavern. Haruhiro knew the name, and that it was a hangout for volunteer soldiers, but he had only ever seen it from the outside.

  Manato came here to gather information sometimes, right? I left it all to him. For anything and everything, it was always Manato. I didn’t do a thing. Just followed after Manato, doing whatever he told me to do.

  Lamps hanging from the ceiling dimly illuminated the spacious tavern. Sherry’s Tavern really was a large place. There was more than just the one floor, it had a second level as well, and there was an open ceiling over about half of the establishment. It wasn’t crowded yet, with less than half the tables occupied, but, even so, there were probably over 100 people there. Many voices could be heard talking and laughing at all times, occasionally punctuated by angry shouts, and the spirited voices of the waitresses could be heard all over the room. Ranta found an open table in one corner of the first floor and sat down. Haruhiro and Moguzo sat down with him. When one of the girls came over, Ranta immediately said, “Three beers,” ordering for the other two without ever asking them.

  “...I don’t really want to drink alcohol.”

  “What do you want then? Milk?” Ranta crossed his arms, kicking the ground. “You sound like an idiot. This is a tavern. If you’re gonna drink at a tavern, it’s gotta be alcoholic.”

  “B-But...” Moguzo sat hunched over, shrinking his head into his shoulders. “Should we be drinking at a time like this...?”

  “You dolt. Now is exactly when we ought to drink.” Ranta sniffled and rubbed his eyes. “...Manato came here to drink a few times, didn’t he? But, well, you know what happened to the guy. So, we should drink in his place... No, that isn’t what I’m thinking. That’s not quite it, but...”

  �
��Yeah...” Haruhiro rested his elbows on the table, hanging his head. “...Yeah. You’re right.”

  Once the beer came and they had paid their waitress, the three shared a toast. Maybe it was just because they were parched, but the bitter beer tasted great. Was this the same beer Manato had drank? Had he liked it?

  Probably because of the alcohol, Haruhiro’s face grew hot and his thoughts hazy. Ranta and Moguzo were red-faced, too. Ranta slammed down his ceramic beer mug on the table.

  “...This is the worst. The worst, I’m telling you. Seriously, seriously, seriously. I can’t keep doing this. I’ve had all I can take. I’m not joking. It’s not like I was doing this stuff because I wanted to to begin with. How’m I supposed to keep doing it when it means having to go through this? It’s the same for you two, right? To hell with being a warrior, to hell with being a thief, to hell with being a dread knight. To hell... To hell with being a priest. I’m done. It’s over. I’m out. I’m done with all of this. From today on, I quit!”

  “If you quit...” Haruhiro ground his teeth. “...If you quit, what’re you going to do?”

  “I’m not going to do anything. Who cares, really? Is there some rule saying I’ve gotta do stuff? Who decided that? Even if there is a rule, I’m not gonna follow it, okay?!”

  “This isn’t about following a rule or not. We’ve struggled to come this far as a group because we didn’t have any other choice!”

  “That’s not my problem!”

  “Yes, it is your problem! Think for a second!”

  “I can’t think about this stuff. It’s all stupid!

  “U-Um,” Moguzo interjected. “S-Stop it, both of you, don’t fight, okay?”

  “Shove it!” Ranta violently pushed Moguzo aside. “Besides, even if I did keep going, how the hell are we supposed to do anything?! What do we do from here out?! He’s gone, don’t you get it?!”

  “I know that! Even without you telling me, I know that much at least!”

  “Oh, you do? Well, then tell me this! How are you, the guy who kept getting injured and needing him to help you, going to keep going?! Huh?! How about it?!”