by Ao Jyumonji
It’s feeling it.
“Pile in on it!” Haruhiro cried.
Then it happened.
It’s the plate armor gob.
“Gyahhhgah...!” The plate armor gob left Ranta behind, swinging at Moguzo. Getting in close, it swung down diagonally at Moguzo.
No way, was that Rage Blow? You’re just a damn goblin.
Moguzo blocked with his bastard sword, and they locked blades. However, attacking from that position was one of Moguzo’s specialties. With a “Hungh...!” Moguzo tried to catch the plate armor gob’s sword and use Wind. When he did, the plate armor gob sprung backwards, turning to slash at Ranta immediately.
“—Oh...!” Caught completely by surprise, there was a loud echo from Ranta’s bucket helmet being struck. In rapid succession, the plate armor gob followed up with a thrust, an upwards slash, and then another downwards slash. Ranta could only shout, “Ah! Hey! Whoa!” and run away. He was so pressed that he couldn’t even use Exhaust to retreat.
This is bad. He’s going to get killed at this rate.
“Ohm, rel, ect, vel, darsh...!”
Shihoru was the one who saved Ranta. It was Shadow Beat. The black ball of seaweed struck the plate armor gob’s shoulder. The plate armor gob cried out and shuddered for only a moment, but in that time Ranta was able to put some distance between them and catch his breath.
“...Tch! I didn’t need your help!”
“We need a decisive blow...!” Haruhiro held his side. The pain’s too much to ignore. Maybe because I’m rushing too much and can’t focus. Look at Shihoru. She looks like she’s having a hard time. She’s pretty tired. She used an exhausting spell like Sleepy Shade twice near the beginning, and just now she used Shadow Beat for the second time. How many more times can she use magic? Besides, if I recall, Sleepy Shadow doesn’t work well on targets that are excited. Shadow Beat doesn’t seem like it can strike the decisive blow, either. In which case, there’s only one thing left. We’ll decide this. Right here. Before this drags on and we fall apart, we’ll kill the hobgob.
“Moguzo, do it...!”
“Mhm!” Moguzo immediately braced himself with both feet and roared. “Ruohhhhhhhhhhhhngh...!”
He was loud enough to make their skin crawl. It was the warrior’s War Cry. If someone heard it at close range without being ready for it, it was guaranteed to shock them. It wouldn’t just shake them up, but also make them shudder in fear. That was what happened to the hobgob. It went rigid, as if suddenly paralyzed. It would recover quickly, but every second was precious, precious time.
Yume slammed her machete into the hobgob’s waist area. “Brush Clearer!”
Moguzo took a step back, then, stepping into it, he let let loose a slashing attack with his full weight behind it. “Thaaaaaaanks...!”
With a terrifying sound, Moguzo’s bastard sword dug into the hobgob’s shoulder. It probably reached the collarbone.
“—Fugohh...!” The hobgob dropped to one knee but it tried to stand up.
For as long as it’s still breathing, we can’t let our guards down. We won’t.
With a “Take that!” Haruhiro landed a flying kick on the back of the hobgob’s head.
With the hobgob reeling again from that blow, Moguzo unleashed a flurry of blows on it. “Ungh! Ngh! Hungh! Gah, gah, gah! Ahhhhh! Uwahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...!”
It’s not easy. People can die so quickly, but taking a life isn’t easy.
It was gruesome to watch, but Haruhiro was part of this. He couldn’t look away just because it was horrible.
When the hobgob stopped twitching, Moguzo fell to all fours. His back was heaving, his breaths labored. It was more than just fatigue. He must have hurt all over.
“H-H-Hurr...!” Ranta screamed. “Hurry and s-s-save me! Hu...rry!”
When they looked, Ranta was bent over backwards parrying the plate armor gob’s sword. He was unsteady on his feet.
He’s at his limit. Actually, he’s probably well past it.
“Nice going! Good job, Ranta!”
“Yeah! Yume’ll praise you just this once!”
Haruhiro and Yume tried to catch the plate armor gob in a pincer attack. However, the plate armor gob struck a blow against Ranta and then ran.
It’s running. Running fast. Does it plan to escape? No. That’s not it. Shihoru is over that way.
“Ah...?!” Shihoru’s eyes went wide and she thrust her staff out in front of her.
She’s scared stiff. She can’t fight like that. But there’s no need to worry.
“Out of the way!” Merry got in front of Shihoru, putting her priest’s staff and body at an angle.
It was Prepare. A defensive stance skill.
The plate armor gob lifted its sword to swing. Would Merry knock it away or turn it aside? She couldn’t do either. The plate armor gob’s sword arced low, close to the ground. It dug hard into the ground, kicking up dry dirt. Merry was surprised and shut her eyes.
In that moment, the plate armor gob jumped away, throwing something with its left hand. A knife. A throwing knife?
Merry backed away, bringing her hand to her belly. It was stabbed in there. The throwing knife was. Deeply.
“Merry...!” Stop. What are you doing? Manato. Merry’s going to end up like Manato. Don’t do this to me.
Haruhiro charged in.
I’m not thinking. What should I do? I don’t know. I have no idea what to do.
The next thing he knew, he was closing in on the plate armor gob.
The sword.
The plate armor gob’s sword came at him.
Above and to the left. It’s coming down at me diagonally. I can’t avoid it. Well, what can I do? Plunge in. Keep going. Before the sword reaches me.
He thought he might die. But Haruhiro wasn’t dead. He wasn’t dead yet.
He ended up hugging the plate armor gob from the front. His face bashed into the plate armor gob’s helmet, but he didn’t care.
“—Gwahh...!” He pushed it down. The plate armor gob said something. It wasn’t human language, so he didn’t understand.
The sword. Stop the sword.
He desperately held down the plate armor gob’s right arm, which held the sword. The plate armor gob punched Haruhiro in the jaw. It punched him over and over. His head shook and he felt his consciousness was about to fly away.
Don’t fly away. Don’t fly. You’re not a bird.
Talking to himself like that, Haruhiro switched his dagger with a backhanded grip.
The plate armor gob screamed. He felt like it was telling him stop.
Like I’m gonna stop. There’s no way I’d stop.
The plate armor gob’s helmet covered its entire head, but there were holes for the eyes.
There.
He tried to stab the dagger in there, but the plate armor gob stopped him. It stopped him by grabbing the dagger’s blade with its left hand. Both of their hands shook. Just a little farther. A little farther, and it would go into the eye hole. That “a little farther” felt so far.
“Dammit! Damn, damn, damn...! Why do you have to be so strong...?!”
“Haruhiro-kun...!” It was Moguzo’s voice.
Footsteps. Moguzo was running over. Before Haruhiro looked to Moguzo, the plated armor gob had jumped away from him.
“Hunnnnnnnnnnngh...!”
Moguzo arched backward, bringing down the sword he held aloft so hard that it looked like he might fall forward. There was a loud sound that resonated in his gut, and Haruhiro thought, Moguzo, that was awesome. Moguzo’s bastard sword had severed the plate armor gob’s head. Of course, the plate armor gob was no longer breathing. It was dead.
“Did you... kill it?” Ranta whispered nervously.
Yume slouched to the ground, exhausted. “Yeah... Yume thinks so.”
“...I can hardly believe it,” said Shihoru.
“Woahhhhhhh?!” Moguzo lifted up his sword and gave a cheer, but he still couldn’t believe it himself so it was kind of half-h
earted.
“...Sorry to say this now.” Merry raised a hand. “But do you mind if I heal this? It kind of really hurts.”
“What are you apologizing for?” Haruhiro laughed, then clutched his side. He nearly groaned. Would it be better if he didn’t touch it? It still throbbed with pain if he left it alone. He didn’t think he could stay standing much longer, so he crouched down.
“...Sorry, Merry. I can wait, but heal me, too. Ouch...”
22. For You
I’ve been thinking all along about what to say when this moment came.
It feels like we’ve spent so long together, but the truth is, we haven’t. Actually, we’ve only known each other for a short time. Too short a time. That’s why I feel like I know you, but I don’t know you at all. You were good with people, easy to talk with, smart, able to do anything, and I always felt I could depend on you. I thought you were flawless. But it may just be I never noticed your shortcomings. You may have been hiding your weaknesses. If we had spent longer together, I might have seen another side of you.
I wish I could have known. Known what kind of guy you really were. I wish we’d had more time. With more time, I’m sure so many things would have happened. We might have gotten mad at each other and fought. We might have come to hate each other, or to like each other even more. One day, suddenly, Shihoru might have confessed her love for you. What would you have done then?
I don’t want to think that, once someone’s gone, there’s no point in talking to them, that your words can’t reach them.
But the more I think about it, the more my heart aches.
Because I know that the friend I still recall when I close my eyes has stopped moving, was burned in the flames — whether that was a mercy or not — and now was reduced to ashes, and now is in this grave which casts its shadow in the evening.
“We’ve become volunteer soldiers now.”
In the end, that was what Haruhiro said to the grave which bore his friend’s name and the crescent moon, holding up the Corps Badge that looked like a silver coin as he did.
Ranta, Moguzo, Yume, Shihoru, each of them pulled out their own badges, showing them to their departed friend.
Merry stood a little away from the other five, her eyes cast downwards, with one hand at her chest.
“It’s not that we didn’t have the money to buy our badges before.” Haruhiro gripped his badge tight. “But we wanted to make a clean break with the past and tie up loose ends first. We all decided we would wait until then.
Ranta snorted. “Honestly, I didn’t really care. But you guys wouldn’t shut up about it.”
“Stupid Ranta.” Yume slapped Ranta on the shoulder. “You don’t have to say such heartful things at a time like this, do you? People already hate you enough.”
“That’s fine by me. After all, I’m a dread knight. We live to be hated.”
“...Actually, Yume,” Haruhiro tugged lightly on Yume’s cloak, “you meant hurtful, not heartful. No one would hate him if they were heartful...”
“Oh? Really? Yume always thought it was heartful up until now.”
“U-Um.” Moguzo turned to Shihoru. “Isn’t it time for that?”
“Ah... Yeah.”
Shihoru walked forward, crouching in front of the grave. Pulling one more badge out of her pocket, she hesitated for a moment, and then... hold on, was she trying to force it into the crescent moon carved in the grave?
“No, Shihoru, that’s a bit much...” Haruhiro went to stop her, only for Shihoru to turn around saying, “Huh?” her face turning a bright shade of crimson. “...I-I’m sorry, I was wondering where I ought to leave it, and I...”
“Well... It’s fine, really. But I don’t think it’s going to fit there. The shape isn’t the same.”
“...O-Oh, yeah. I... I guess not. I’m sorry. Even though I’m fat, I’m a bit airheaded, too... Um, w-well, here, then.” Shihoru gently placed the badge next to the gravestone.
“This one’s for you, Manato-kun. We used the money you left behind, and everyone chipped in to cover the rest. Merry-san helped, too. Please, accept it.”
If you could hear this, would you laugh and say we didn’t have to do it? That it’s a waste of money, and we should have spent it on improving our equipment instead? “I’m on this side now, so you guys who are on that side should use the money.” You might have said it calmly like that. But, no matter what you said, we wouldn’t have listened.
After all, Manato, we can’t hear your voice. If you want to make us do what you want, say something. Let us hear you.
I know. You can’t.
When I die, I wonder what will happen to me. Is there someplace like heaven, and will I be able to meet you there someday? I don’t know. There’s no way to know. No one knows what comes after death. But, at the very least, we won’t be able to talk until then.
There’s a wide, deep, and fast-running river between the living and the dead. Once you cross that river, no matter what happens, you’re never coming back. It’s a one-way trip.
The tears wouldn’t flow.
But all of them wanted to stay a little longer, so Haruhiro sat on the grass, hugging one knee.
Shihoru placed her hand on the grave, her back trembling.
Yume crouched next to Shihoru, putting an arm around her shoulder and patting her on the head.
Ranta put his hands on his hips, looking up into the sky.
Moguzo took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
Merry held her hair back, looking off into the distance somewhere.
“We’ve become a good party.”
With those words to the friend who would never return, Haruhiro looked towards Alterna. A bell was ringing. Probably telling them it was 6:00 in the afternoon.
A red half-moon floated near the horizon. Now that he thought of it, why was the moon here red?
—Here?
Haruhiro glanced at the tower that looked down on them from the hilltop.
A tower. That tower. Strange. I feel like I’m forgetting something. Haruhiro and the others had come here, and after that, they had become volunteer soldiers.
What about before that? Where was I? What was I doing? I don’t know. I don’t remember.
It wasn’t just Haruhiro. It was the same for all of them.
Regardless, when Haruhiro and the others had woken up, here was where they were.
Here.
Which is where again? If I recall, it was dark— Dark? I don’t know. Where exactly was that place? A tower. The tower. That tower is involved somehow. But how is it involved? I don’t know. The more I think, the less I understand. If I reach out and touch it, it disappears.
Hey, Manato.
Why are we here doing all this stuff...? Even that doubt is starting to feel hazy, as if it might melt away at any moment.
23. Prologue
A bell was ringing. The bell telling them it was 6:00 in the afternoon. When the last echoes of the seventh chiming of the bells reluctantly sank into the town and disappeared, night fell on Alterna.
The bells only rang until 6:00, and they would not be rung again until 6:00 in the morning the next day. It was the time when craftspeople who woke up early in the morning for work would be chowing down on dinner and having an evening drink. Many businesses took the 6:00 bell as a sign to close for the day.
It was a time of day when food stalls did more business and the taverns began to fill up.
At Sherry’s Tavern, where a great many volunteer soldiers gather to refresh their spirits for the coming day, from now until late at night were truly their busiest hours.
Even considering that, tonight was especially lively.
It wasn’t just volunteer soldiers. Old craftsmen, young trainees, portly merchants, glamorous ladies of the night, and even soldiers of the Frontier Army were there.
People, people, people as far as the eye could see. To the point that the sizable, two-floor establishment began to feel cramped.
Of course, all the
seats were taken. Those without seats stood. Not just the first and second floor, but the stairs were filled with people, as well.
Everyone had crowded into Sherry’s Tavern after hearing a certain rumor.
Famous volunteer soldiers were usually referred to as So-and-So of Clan Such-and-Such.
Setting aside the area around Alterna, as you went further from the human race’s sphere of power, the monsters and hostile races became stronger or relied on their greater numbers to kill humans. Clans were an organization born of necessity, and those seeking to achieve more than a certain degree of success knew they should participate in one. They had to. You could even call it necessary.
And yet, one group that had yet to join any clan: a group of four volunteer soldiers, one elf, and the golem Zenmai, who had been created by one of the volunteer soldiers, the necromancer Pingo. Six people in total had survived their battles.
As a result, they were praised as the greatest of all volunteer soldiers, and their fame had spread throughout Alterna. To this day, they were the only volunteer soldiers ever invited to dine with the Margrave of Alterna, Garlan Vedoy. What’s more, they had turned him down.
“Soma, don’t you think it’s about time?”
When the alluring woman spoke to Soma, he rose from his seat. Just because of that, the noise died down and a silence fell over the tavern.
This was a given, of course. Each and every one of them was here to hear Soma’s announcement. If they didn’t quietly listen when Soma opened his mouth, what would be the point? After all, today was a day to be commemorated.
That Soma would finally be forming a clan. As a result, he would be recruiting comrades, they said.
But was that true? After all, they were just rumors. False ones, possibly. Of course, there were doubters, but Soma himself had appeared in Sherry’s Tavern. And now, finally, he was about to speak before the masses.
“Shima.”
When Soma called her name, the alluring woman smiled and nodded slightly.