“I knew you were a fan of Natsume, too, Cid.”
“No, I…”
“I understand. It must be hard to bring yourself to admit it, since most of the fans are women. Nevertheless, even though almost everyone who comes to signings are women, Natsume has a fair share of male fans.”
“…Sure, I guess.”
“The stories are compelling because they’re so inventive! The plots are all so new, their worldview is so novel, and the characters have fresh and fascinating values.”
New, novel, and fresh? Yeah, I’ll bet.
“And Natsume is versed in so many genres: romance, mysteries, action, children’s stories, literary fiction… It’s almost like each story is being written by a different person. That diversity is precisely what’s allowed these pieces to capture the hearts of so many readers.”
That’s ’cause they were each written by different people.
“Oh, and look at this autograph. I even got Natsume to write my name,” says Rose gleefully as she opens up her book. Inside are Rose’s name and Natsume the Fraud’s signature.
Now that I think about it, she mentioned something about having written the specifics of some plan or other in mine. I flip my book open.
“Are those…ancient letters?” asks Rose as she takes a peek.
“Looks like it. Yeah.”
And I can’t read a lick of it.
“Can you read ’em?”
“I’m afraid not. I’ve had a difficult time learning how to read ancient texts. I can only make out a few symbols. And it seems it’s written in the modern equivalent of cursive, so I’m not sure I could make it out, even if I was fluent.”
“Ooh.”
Awesome, so it’s like a cipher or something. I gave up trying to learn how to read the ancient alphabet, so I’m super-fascinated by it.
“Why write in ancient letters?”
“’Cause it looks cool.”
“It looks cool?”
“Yup.”
“I guess that’s the kind of thing that appeals to men.”
Next, we go check into our super-ritzy hotel, but Rose has to say hi to some big shots or something, so we split up.
She says she can’t introduce me because we’re still just friends from school for now. I dunno what she meant by “for now.” Is she planning on trying to convert me or something?
Unfortunately for her, I have a policy of not getting involved in any religion. The only time I’d consider it is if I was founding one.
I’m the type of guy who doesn’t have many likes or dislikes…mainly because most of those things aren’t worth thinking about.
That’s not to say I don’t have any preferences. None of them are particularly important, and I could certainly make do without them, but I still like the stuff I like and dislike the stuff I dislike. Even when you try to separate those things out with logic, you can’t logic away your emotions.
I call stuff like that unimportant likes and unimportant dislikes.
Incidentally, one of those unimportant likes is hot springs.
Back in my previous life, I had a period when I didn’t bathe. At the time, I considered time spent soaking time wasted. Of course, I had my life as a faceless extra to consider, so I made sure to take a three-minute shower every day, but I eliminated all time in the tub so I could train instead.
This was around the point when I was pushing the limits of the human species, by the way. In other words, I had to make every minute count. I mean, this was during the period when I was seriously planning on repelling nukes with my right straight-hand punch.
When I finally realized I was losing my mind, I went back to bathing. The trigger for that was a hot spring. Hot water fosters composure in the soul, which has a direct effect on my training. That was the reason I could do the mental gymnastics to realize I needed to find magic or vibrational auras.
Anyway, I’m just trying to say I’m in a hot spring right now.
Lindwurm is famous for them, which is a fact I’d secretly been super-excited about.
It’s early in the morning. It happens to be my favorite time to soak in hot springs. I certainly wouldn’t decline taking one in the evening, but mornings are superior. After all, there usually aren’t as many people around. Sometimes, I even get the place all to myself.
I came today hoping that would happen, but unfortunately, it looks like someone else had the same idea. To make matters worse, that someone is Alexia.
Her platinum hair is all bundled up, and her red eyes go wide as they momentarily lock with mine. We both immediately avert our gazes.
Afterward, we tacitly agree on a policy of mutual nonintervention and go on pretending the other doesn’t exist. The spring is designed for nobility, which means few people use it, especially early in the day. That’s why all the dividers were cleared away, opening it up for mixed bathing. It’s spacious. Everything below eye level is covered by the steam, and the sun is starting to rise. It would have been perfect if I had this all to myself. I bask in the water and the morning sunlight.
Alexia and I are on opposite ends of the outdoor bath with the best view, watching the sun rise in uncomfortable silence.
From the corner of my eye, I see Alexia’s white skin move. Ripples spread out across the water’s surface.
Bummer, I think. Guess I’ll have to make this dip a quick one. Just as the thought crosses my mind, though, Alexia breaks the silence.
“Have your injuries all healed?”
Her voice is quiet, by her standards.
“Yeah, I’m all better,” I respond, wondering what she’s talking about.
“I did fly off the handle when I sliced you up. I’m glad you survived.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
Ah. Those injuries.
I’ve spent enough time around her that I can tell this is her attempt at an apology. I’d originally doubted if anyone had actually taught her what an apology was, but I guess this is her version of one.
“While we’re apologizing for stuff, I’m sorry I suspected you of being a serial killer.”
Hot water splashes against the side of my face.
“Obviously not.”
“Yeah? So what are you doing in Lindwurm?”
“I’m a guest at the Goddess’s Trial. You?”
“A friend of mine told me something exciting was going on. My guess is she was talking about the Goddess’s Trial. Do you know what it is?”
I can hear Alexia sigh.
“You came here without knowing? The Goddess’s Trial is a battle that happens once a year when they open the door to the Sanctuary. Memories of ancient warriors are awoken from within, and challengers come to fight them. Any dark knight who applies in advance can participate, but there’s no guarantee an ancient warrior will answer their call. Several hundred dark knights enter each year, but only about ten end up actually getting to fight.”
Sounds interesting. I bet Alpha’s planning on entering.
“How are they selected?”
“Supposedly, it’s based on whether there’s an appropriate warrior for that challenger. Usually, the warrior is a little stronger than the challenger, which is why it’s called the Goddess’s Trial. Ten years ago, everyone was talking about how Venom the Wandering Swordsman managed to call forth the great hero Olivier.”
“Ooh, did he win?”
“He lost, or so I heard. That said, I didn’t see it for myself, so who knows? I can’t even be sure if it really was Olivier or not.”
“Huh.”
Would Alpha be able to call forth a hero of legend? If she did, I bet it’d be exciting.
“And you’re not participating?” I ask. “Word is you’ve gotten strong lately.”
“I can’t. I’m too busy this year. There are some unsavory rumors floating around about the archbishop here, so I’m supposed to investigate him.”
“Unsavory rumors?”
“I’m not going to repeat them. If you want to know, join the C
rimson Order.”
“No thanks.”
“When you graduate, I’m ordering you to join.”
“No thanks.”
“I’ll submit the application on your behalf.”
“Please don’t do that.”
“You’re so stubborn.”
At this point, the conversation breaks off.
We sit there in silence for a little longer. This time, it isn’t nearly so unpleasant.
Then, I see Alexia move out of my periphery. Her long legs are floating on the surface, making more ripples in the warm water.
“I’d expected you to be ogling me up and down, but I suppose I was wrong.”
Alexia doesn’t mention what in particular she thought I’d be looking at.
“Someone’s confident.”
“When you’re unassailably beautiful like me, it’s annoying to constantly put up with lusty gazes.”
Big words coming from someone wearing nothing.
“I try to avoid looking at other people when I’m in hot springs. That way, we can all share it in peace.”
“How admirable.”
“And on that note, would you please stop trying to catch a glimpse of my Excalibur?”
“Pfft,” Alexia laughs. It’s like she’s looking down on me. “Excalibur, huh? Are you sure you didn’t mean Earthworm?”
“If that’s what you think, it’s no skin off my back. Earthworm, Excalibur, I’m fine with whatever, but let me give you a warning.”
I stand up, making waves across the pool.
“You shouldn’t judge things based on appearances. Sometimes, an earthworm just hasn’t left its scabbard yet.”
And with my goods all out in the open, I turn around and get out of the pool.
“Wh-what do you mean…?” stammers Alexia. Her cheeks are flushed pink.
“When the holy sword is drawn from its scabbard, its ivory blade will be unleashed, sending you on a journey to the Garden of Chaos…”
With that suggestive line, I give my wet towel a strong snap, sending it up between my legs to clap loudly against my butt.
Old geezers do it all the time when they’re getting out of the bath, and I can’t get enough of it. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, but the hot springs experience just doesn’t feel complete unless I do it, too. After a second and third time, I head over to the dressing room.
As I finish changing, I can hear the sound of snapping coming from the hot spring.
The warm lamplight illuminating the majestic cathedral makes it appear more ethereal.
Only one person stands within it: a beautiful blond elf. She’s wearing a pitch-black dress, and her blue eyes are fixated on a statue of the great hero Olivier.
She could have been the moon shining radiantly against the dark of the night. Her name is Alpha.
“All we want is to know the truth,” she prays, almost as if she were talking to the statue. “Great hero, what did you do at the Sanctuary? Each time we pull back a layer of our dark history, we find more truths and lies interwoven together.”
Her high heels click as she begins walking, resounding throughout the cathedral as Alpha walks across its marble floor toward the red mass spread across it.
“Archbishop Drake, what were you hiding? If only you could talk. I really would have liked an answer.”
The red mass is composed of blood and chunks of flesh. The corpulent man breathing his last at its center has been brutally sliced to pieces.
The high heels come to a stop atop the pool of blood. White legs extend down from beneath Alpha’s knee-length dress.
“Who was it who killed you? Who was it who could easily dispose of a man with your status?”
The dying archbishop’s eyes are filled with the sublime light of the grave. Dark rumors about him had reached as far as the royal capital, and he had been likely to come under investigation in the near future. Before that could happen, though, he had been made to disappear.
“Tomorrow, we shall wait for the door to the Sanctuary to be cast open.”
After shooting another glance at the statue of Olivier, Alpha turns around.
From the other side of the cathedral’s doors, the voices of people searching for the archbishop grow closer.
Paying them no heed, Alpha opens that same set of doors and leaves.
As the sound of high heels recedes into the distance, it’s replaced with a throng of the Church’s paladins surging into the cathedral.
Though they find the body of their archbishop, not one of them says a word about the blond elf. None of them even realizes she’s gone by…
…but the bloodstained stiletto marks continue down the marble hallway.
It’s the night before the big event, and I’m gazing down at Lindwurm from atop its clock tower.
The Goddess’s Trial is tomorrow, and everyone’s all abuzz. Stalls line the main street, and the lamps along the road make it look like a veritable river.
Rose is off at some party at the church. I wasn’t invited. Not that I would have gone.
I smile as my hair dances in the night wind.
I gotta say, I’m loving this whole series of episodes where I get to look down on people and places from on high. The fact that it’s nighttime and there’s an event going on below makes it even better.
“It begins…,” I mutter, getting swept up in the mood. “So… They’ve made their decision…”
I narrow my eyes.
“Then I shall do my part to stand against it.”
In a flash, I transform into my Shadow outfit.
“For that choice is something we cannot allow…”
With that, I leap into the night sky. My obsidian long coat flutters behind me as I make my landing.
My destination is a back alley removed from the celebrations. A masked man is standing before me.
He looks sketchy, so I’ve been tracking him with my gaze ever since he fled from the church. He’s probably a robber or something.
No, wait, I can smell blood on him.
A mugger maybe?
“Did you really think you could escape…?” I ask him.
The masked man shrinks back a step.
“At night, the world dims, transforming it into our domain…”
He draws his sword.
“…and none can escape it.”
The man squares off against me, his sword at the ready.
I leave my katana undrawn, waiting for the moment to come.
Then it happens. As soon as the masked man tries to swing his blade, his head goes flying through the air.
I watch in silence as I wait for the woman behind his corpse to approach me.
“It’s been some time, my lord.”
The woman kneeling before me is Epsilon, the fifth member of the Seven Shadows.
She uncovers her face from behind her bodysuit, then looks up at me. She’s an elf with hair the color of a clear lake, and her eyes are just a smidgen darker.
Beauty comes in many varieties, and hers is decidedly flashy. Her looks are accentuated by sharp facial features, and her figure is exaggerated, too. Her body sways with each step she takes. It’s enough to catch the eye of anyone, man or woman, whether they’re interested in her or not. I know her secret, though.
“A clean slash. Nice work.”
“I’m honored.” Epsilon’s cheeks flush a little when she smiles. Her crisp tone might come across as haughty to some, but I don’t think it sounds bad. It reminds me of a piano.
Of all the members of the Seven Shadows, she’s the best at controlling her magic with precision. Magic can be super-hard to manipulate when it leaves your body, but she has no problems striking from a distance.
Her nickname is Epsilon the Faithful.
She has buckets of pride and an intense personality, but she’s pretty mellow around me. Though she may be quick to jump to misunderstandings, she used to brew tea for me back in the day. She’s a good kid and obediently follows Alpha’s orders. I know she’s
the type to respect the chain of command.
Honestly, it’s been forever since the last time I saw her, and I have a bunch of stuff to catch her up on. Based on her behavior, though, I can tell she’s in Shadow Garden mode.
Well, that works, too. If that’s the case, I’d better respond in kind.
“How is the plan proceeding?”
Epsilon scrunches up her face a bit. I bet she’s frantically trying to figure out an appropriate plot for our little game of pretend.
“The Executioner of the Cult put down our target. We dealt with the henchmen, but the Executioner in question seems to have vanished.”
“I see…”
So an Executioner is in it, huh? I dig it.
“We’re switching to our other strategy.”
Oh, so it’s one of those scenarios where we scrap plan A and place our bets on plan B.
“Very well. But you know what that means…”
“We’re ready. We’ve prepared to make enemies of the Church and for our reputation to be dragged through the mud…”
“I’ll act on my own. Don’t fail me…”
“Yes, sir.”
I cast a sidelong glance at Epsilon as she bows, then exit stage right by concealing my presence and slipping into the darkness.
Chapter 1
Fun Times at the Goddess’s Trial!
How disagreeable, Alexia silently mutters to herself.
She’s sitting in one of the seats for the special guests, waiting for the opening ceremony of the Goddess’s Trial to begin. The seats in question are occupied by Natsume, Alexia, and Rose. There are a number of other guests behind them, but they’re the main attractions. It’s painfully obvious they’re being used to draw an audience as de facto booth babes, but she can overlook that.
There are two things Alexia finds disagreeable.
The first is Nelson. The acting archbishop is busy pompously greeting everyone in the center of the grounds. When she talked with him earlier about the archbishop’s murder the day before, he obstinately refused to let her look into the incident.
It all started when Nelson spouted some nonsense about the inspection being called off because the subject was dead. Alexia had replied that made the investigation all the more necessary, dumbass, though she’d obviously used more diplomatic language. Nelson insisted she needed to get her request reapproved if she wanted to conduct an inspection.
The Eminence in Shadow, Vol. 2 (Light Novel) Page 2