“That’s him! Valacirca!”
“You dunce, you’ll be killed!”
“I still have to do it!”
“You’re telling me the only way is to fight? After considering all the other ways?!”
“What other ways are there?!”
“You idiot!” Gus shouted, flinging a spectral arm into the air. “Didn’t you even consider persuasion?!”
It was an idea that no one had even imagined.
“P-Persuasion...?”
“The gods hired Valacirca. That means there’s a chance that this can be resolved with money and objects.”
Everyone looked flabbergasted.
“You know, this kind of idea feels very familiar to me.”
“That’s funny, Menel, sir, it does to me as well.”
“Mm.”
“Yeah...”
They all nodded with deep expressions. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if I was entirely content with being put in the same box as Gus, but I managed to hold back.
“Granted, I imagine it would be difficult to cajole an evil dragon that has lived since the time of the gods. But there is no need to restrict your solutions to just one. Always keep your thinking flexible. Avoid becoming blinkered.”
“Okay.”
It was a very Gus-like way of thinking, and a Gus-like way of speaking, too. I felt like I’d gone back in time, and it made me feel happier than I could explain.
Gus cleared his throat. “I apologize for that unsightly argument.” He smiled at everyone. “Friends of my grandson: A warm welcome to you all.”
I could tell from his voice that he was in the best of moods.
The room featured stonework walls, a small wooden chair and writing desk, and even a comfy‐looking bed set into an alcove in the wall. On the shelves and writing desk were everyday items, books, and countless memos that I’d left behind when I set off on my journey. It was my room in that beloved temple on the hill.
I had returned to that city of the dead.
A peaceful homecoming—if only that were the case. The number of demon-related incidents was climbing every day as the dragon howled in the Rust Mountains to the west. The god of undeath’s Herald had prophesied that I would die if I took on the dragon, but after a lot of deliberation, I decided to challenge it anyway for the sake of my oath, which I didn’t want to break. Of course, I had no intention of dying in vain. I had even put together a strategy. We would go up the river to slip by the demons and launch a surprise attack from the western side of the Rust Mountains. That required going through the city of the dead, and it was for that reason that I’d returned home. It was a small detour before the battle for our lives.
Gus had shown everyone to individual rooms around the temple, and for now we were taking a short moment of respite. The room given to me was this one, which I fondly remembered from my years as a boy. I traced a finger across the cold stone walls. It brought back several memories.
The three undead couldn’t tell much of a difference between hot and cold days, but for me, being a living human, the cold winter night had been pretty harsh. Gus grudgingly arranged for a heated stone for me to keep me warm. As I waited by the fireplace for the stone to warm up, Blood told one of his epic tales, with exaggerated gestures of his hands and body. Mary listened to Blood’s story with a smile on her face as she sewed, occasionally saying one or two words to keep him talking.
It was a dazzling, happy past. And though it was gone and Blood and Mary were no longer here, I was sure that didn’t take away from those days in any way. My happy past continued to shine. And probably, even after Gus disappeared, and even after I died, it would still continue shining forever, like beautiful sand settling at the bottom of the flowing river of time.
My face cracked into a smile. Returning to my home may have made me a little sentimental.
Then, there was a knock on the door to my room. The old door creaked as Menel poked his head around it. “Hey. Coming in.” He peered around the room with interest. “This your room?”
“Yeah.”
Menel hummed vaguely as he looked around. “Small.”
“It was a pretty good fit for me when I was a kid, though.”
These were originally mere sleeping rooms for priests who served the temple. They had a simple construction with almost no space to store anything unnecessary.
“Hey, Will, that old Gus guy, he’s pretty awesome.”
“I thought you were going to say he’s cruder than you imagined, or something.”
“Well, uh. He is. He is, but, uh...” Menel went quiet for a moment while he chose his words, and then spoke in a whisper. “When he was showing me to my room, I felt like he could see right into my mind.”
I nodded.
Many of this world’s greatest and most renowned sorcerers didn’t speak much. Telling lies weakened the power of the Words of Creation. Blunt and empty Words that had no edge and no weight wouldn’t result in anything. So the sorcerers who were called sages chose silence and never took part in common conversation. But as for Gus, he talked, and he talked a lot. He laughed joyfully as he willingly talked about money and women and other lowbrow topics. Yet the power of his Words never weakened. Just as a single word from a normally silent person carries extra weight, there was a cutting sharpness in every word of truth from that man who tempered his genius with worldly affairs.
“Yeah, he’s great, isn’t he?”
As far as I knew, there had only been a single occasion when Gus had spoken anything like a lie: when he decided, in that gloomy underground city, that he needed to kill me.
“He’s my grandpa,” I said proudly and laughed. Menel laughed too.
◆
After I’d set down my stuff, loosened my equipment, and allowed myself a little time to breathe, I left Menel in charge of everyone else and headed over to see Gus. I was looking for information from him.
Right now, Gus was a disciple of God—my god—and bound to this city, but at the same time, he was a sage from two hundred years ago. I thought he might know something beneficial, but that was not the case.
“Regarding the foul-dragon Valacirca, also known as the Gods’ Sickle and Calamity’s Sickle, I’ve never laid eyes on him.” Gus shrugged. “If I’d had the opportunity, I would have wanted to meet him for a negotiation at least once. If he hadn’t joined up with the demons’ forces, we would never have lost so many heroes’ lives in the fight against the High King.”
Gus explained that when it came to dragons as old as the gods, the choice of a single one to side with your forces or the enemy’s had an enormous influence on the balance of a war.
“If you’re going to fight him, I’d focus on his old wounds. Valacirca has fought all kinds of battles since ancient times, against Echoes and numerous heroes, and there are multiple rumors of times during those battles when he sustained wounds and had scales torn off. A dragon’s scales are tough. I’ll tell you now, I doubt even Blood could have cut to the skin through dragonscale.”
Joined by two dwarves, a human warrior, and a half-elf hunter, I was going to be heading to mountains ruled by a dragon, aiming to strike him where his scales had been torn off. It kind of felt like a situation I might have found in an old fantasy novel in my past world. It was no laughing matter that this was now my reality.
“What about the Word of Entity Obliteration?” I asked him about one of the plans I’d been thinking of. Gus had used that Word to take down the Echo of the god of undeath. If we used that, maybe we’d stand a chance...
“Well, yes, if it were to hit, then it could probably blast away a dragon, certainly.”
Gus obviously thought it stood almost no chance of hitting.
“Do you know the reason that Elder Dragons can soar swiftly despite their enormous size? The ancient dragons, as denizens of myth, are closer to the Words than we who live in the modern age.”
Therefore, dragons flew.
“Words soar through the air by nature. That
’s why.”
Thanks to being closely connected to the Words, dragons could fly in disregard of all physical laws.
“That’s right. The most ancient of dragons are also users of the ultimate Words. What’s more, Valacirca isn’t a negotiator like the god of undeath. He’s a hardcore, seasoned warmonger. Will, you seem to have become a pretty good user of magic, but if you make this into a battle of Words, you will lose.”
“Magic battle: not in my favor. Got it.”
“A physical battle’s not in your favor, either. His size and the physical strength and toughness that come from it are no joke. As Blood would put it, you’re not a match in muscle.”
It wasn’t as if any of that was news, but it still hurt that I couldn’t win with overwhelming body strength. It meant that I couldn’t use the main strategy that had been leading me to victory so far.
“Since times of old, the tactic for killing a dragon has been to make full preparations, then wait for a moment when the dragon is unprepared and launch a surprise attack on its den. But this time... well, you know about the horde of demons around there. Valacirca is most likely using the demon forces as a replacement for a warning siren.”
“I get the feeling I’m starting to understand the reason the god of undeath tried to stop me.”
The dragon had the power of ancient magic, overwhelming size and muscle, and the experience and knowledge to compensate for his own weaknesses. No wonder Stagnate concluded that I had virtually no chance of winning right now.
“Hmph. Stagnate, huh? Was it a Herald?”
“A raven came.”
Gus snorted, unamused. “It sounds like he’s taken to you.”
“Much to my displeasure.” I frowned as well.
“His thoughts are those of a god. Most of us earthly beings can’t follow them.”
“Yeah.”
“And far too ‘friendly’ for a god! No, ‘devious’ is the word I’d use! Bringing us a contract at a time when we couldn’t escape—I’ve never known such slyness! It brought me great satisfaction to tear that contract apart, I assure you! It violated all sense and reason! You’d have thought a god could afford to be less underhanded! It’s no wonder he’s counted among the evil gods!” After getting all that off his chest, Gus sighed. “But I can’t say I’m not the slightest bit grateful,” he said, his expression sullen.
◆
“After becoming undead and being given the opportunity to raise you, Blood and Mary, two of my very few friends, who I even thought of as a son and daughter, were able to pass on in happiness.” Gus glanced away from me. Over there were Blood and Mary’s graves. “And I, too, was given the chance to raise you,” he said, without returning his gaze. “I never took a student. My knowledge and techniques would die with me, and I would blossom brightly and scatter gracefully away. I thought I was content with that, but far from it. You’d be surprised how much regret you feel once you die and all is lost.”
“Gus...”
“Thanks to you, they’ve been carried on. I guess this is all part of the richness of life. Though I’m long dead, of course.” He laughed loudly. Then, after a short pause, he spoke again with a more serious expression. “Listen, are you sure you understand?”
“Don’t worry. I know.”
That was why I’d come alone to talk to Gus. The reality was—
“There’s virtually no room for negotiation with a dragon.”
“Precisely.” Gus nodded. “Even the gods have acknowledged that there is no greater force in this region than you. That makes this the perfect moment for Valacirca to strike.”
“I think so, too. The gods are already wary of Valacirca.”
The god of undeath had told me that he would want to slay the dragon himself if he could manifest an Echo. And Gus had told me that whether a dragon that old and ancient sided with your forces or the enemy’s would have an enormous influence on the balance of a war. Dragons living in the current age were that much of a threat, and conversely, for a dragon to live in this age demanded he work that hard for it.
“Valacirca himself is probably aware that he’s in a situation where if he continues sleeping and becomes isolated, eventually some god will see him as an obstruction to their plans and send an Echo or one of their disciples to kill him. Once the injury Lord Aurvangr inflicted on Valacirca’s eye heals, he’s going to need to either take the initiative to build up a force of his own or join one somewhere else and start a war.”
“Precisely. He’s like a fish who must constantly swim to stay alive. Valacirca can only live within the maelstrom of war, and because of that, he’ll never regard you, with your peaceful views, as his master. If there’s no being as overwhelming as the High King in this modern age, he’ll have to raise his own banner or join with other forces to start a great war. In any event, he has no other choice than to throw the world into chaos and make the gods focus elsewhere.” He looked at me. “And you are the only one with any power to make him think twice.”
I nodded. “And I don’t have enough. From a dragon’s perspective, I guess he might hesitate a little, but I’m an obstacle he can overcome.”
Just as I had overcome every obstacle in my path that I thought was surmountable, the dragon would look at me in the same way, and attempt to overcome me.
“Will... You’re going to die.”
“Maybe, but I’ve decided to fight.” The warmth my god had left with me was still alive within my chest. “Leaving the dragon alone won’t help. A war will start anyway.”
“You could just run.” Gus looked at me intently.
“Gus...” While feeling grateful for his words, I gave him back a smile. “Living and being alive aren’t the same.”
Abandoning everything and just hanging on was only ‘being alive.’ I’d learned through both of my lives that that wasn’t good enough.
Gus sighed. It was a deep sigh of resignation. “So be it.”
I switched my tone to a brighter one and changed the topic. “Oh, right, Gus. I’ve been wanting to ask you this for a while. I heard a story about when you three killed a wyvern. Do you remember the human boy and half-elf girl you lent money and a dagger to?”
“Hmm? Oh, that takes me back. I do indeed.”
“They moved up in the world and became nobility. I heard the half-elf girl is still waiting now, even as an old woman.”
“I see...” Gus smiled. It was a lonely smile. “But, well, just look at me. I’m afraid I can no longer go to collect.”
“In that case, can I go in your place?”
Thankfully, Gus seemed to have understood what I was getting at. “Mm, please do. Collecting money is an important task, and a dead man can’t do it!”
“Right! It’s important to get people to give back what they’ve borrowed!”
Yes, I still had plenty of things I wanted to do. The odds were against me, but I had no intention of dying.
“Then it’s fine by me.”
I could tell that “since you intend on returning alive” was implied.
“If you’re going to be my agent, then I can’t very well have you dying, can I?” He grinned broadly, rolled up a sleeve, and clenched a fist. “The equipment used by our brothers-in-arms who took on the High King are still here in this city. Would you and your party like some new gear before you go?”
“Of course!” I grinned back and nodded.
◆
Saying he would show us some weapons, Gus led us outside the temple. By the side of the temple, there was a small storehouse. Mary had used it in place of a shed to store things like tools for taking care of the vegetable garden.
I frowned and cocked my head to the side. I’d been inside the storehouse before, of course, and there weren’t any weapons in there then. Come to think of it, though, where had Blood been storing his weapons? I never—
“Watch.”
As I got that far in my thinking, Gus muttered a couple of Words, and at one edge of the dimly lit storehouse, in a plac
e that I’d thought was floor, a hidden door appeared. Everyone’s eyes opened wide. It was Misdirection magic.
“I didn’t know we had a place like this...”
“We couldn’t show you where they were as a child. Especially not after the recklessness of the Mary incident.” He gave me a look. “You can’t see through the Word of Misdirection without a suspicious mind. When you came to the storehouse, you always had a purpose. You would have been so preoccupied thinking about whatever you came for that you would never have bothered suspecting there might be a Word set upon the floor.”
Then he laughed and added that the trick to using Misdirection magic was to place it somewhere where the target would never even consider they were being misled.
Simple power aside, I still didn’t feel like I was even close to matching up with Gus in terms of crafty use of Words like this. I didn’t have the experience or the personality.
“You’re too honest, that’s your problem,” Gus said, grinning as if he’d read my mind.
I laughed and gave a resigned shrug.
“Now then. It seems that wine was once made here at this temple. Blood and Mary turned the part above ground into a shed, but this was originally a wine cave. Accordingly,” he said, opening the door with psychokinesis, “it goes underground.”
We followed Gus’s magical light down a set of stairs paved with flat stones and entered into a wide-open space. To our left and right, there were racks where wine barrels must have once been stacked, and—
“Whoa...”
“Ooh, wow!”
Menel and Al exclaimed in turn, and Reystov and Ghelreis stared in amazement. The place was full with weapons and armor. I could tell that each and every one of them was a work of equally fine craftsmanship.
“Take whatever you want,” Gus said, smiling. “I’m sure their owners would allow it.”
Everyone gave him a little bow and went around investigating the weapons. Even Reystov and Ghelreis’s eyes were shining. It really was true that no matter what age a man reached, he would always love things like weapons, steel, and leather.
And now that I knew they’d been maintaining a place like this, I had to wonder—
The Lord of the Rust Mountains (Complete) Page 18