Thinking about the presence of over a thousand undead stronger than the empire’s strongest knight—not even counting the King of Darkness—made Jircniv’s stomach hurt.
What am I supposed to do?!
It wasn’t that they couldn’t change the tides of battle with one strong addition.
Gazef Stronoff of the Re-Estize Kingdom was a man who could make that happen. And the empire’s principal wizard, Fluder Paradyne, was even more powerful—he could tip the balance of the entire country.
An individual was sometimes equivalent to an entire army or state.
In other words, even without its fearsome undead king, the Nation of Darkness still had an army a thousand strong.
…Isn’t this just impossible? Assuming there are a thousand soldiers in his army, there’s no way to stop them… Would it be better to give up?
He couldn’t say so in front of his subordinates, but it was the answer that had occurred to him more than once. It was the first thing he thought when he heard about the fight on the Katze Plain.
“All right, Your Majesty, so you’re going to meet with Argenti at the arena and then move on?”
Jircniv moved only his eyes to look at the man sitting before him.
It was one of the Four, Lightning Baswood Peshmel.
Jircniv nodded in silence.
For escorts this time, he had hired an adamantite adventurer team. Nominally, they were guards, but their main purpose was countering espionage. Unfortunately, he had been unable to get in touch with one of the candidates, Ijaniya, and so learned that it would be extremely difficult to get them onto the empire’s side.
“Your Majesty, it’s true that adamantite-plate adventurers are the peak of humanity’s fighting power. But ultimately, they can’t go beyond the human realm. Please don’t let your guard down.”
Jircniv understood to a painful degree what Storm Wind Nimble Arc Dale Anoch was trying to say. Or rather, he had seen a massive slaughter, so he knew. He had seen the monsters lined up in the Throne Room.
“Of course not. Still, though, we might be able to fend them off somehow. There’s the adamantite-plate adventurer from the kingdom, Momon. I’ve heard he faced the King of Darkness with his sword drawn and protected the people. So these are adamantite, too. I would sure hope they can fend them off.” As he said it, he smiled sadly. “And if…they can’t?”
The pair of knights’ faces grew grave at Jircniv’s question. Their expressions spoke louder than words—to the point that before he knew it, Jircniv was making the same face.
“Your Majesty, please don’t look at us that way. We may be powerless, but we’ll do all we can.”
“You can bet on that, Your Majesty. Please get rid of that gloomy expression and put your usual bold, confident one back on.”
The pair’s kind words were like stakes in his heart. Unable to bring himself to say, You had the same looks on your faces, too! he took the advice sincerely—because it had undeniably permeated his turbulent mind, just like water falling on a desert.
“…Sorry. I appreciate your feelings. And…since it’s just you guys here, I wonder if it would be okay for me to vent a bit…”
The two knights silently nodded.
“What should I do? Why did a monster like that have to show up next to the empire? Why? What did I do wrong? How can we defeat him—or even just seal him away? Is there really even a way to come back from the worst-case scenario of the empire’s trump card defecting to the enemy’s side?”
He hadn’t intended to say so much.
If Jircniv didn’t walk out front, no one would be able to make it. The person at the top needed person-at-the-top attitude—especially when that person was the Fresh Blood Emperor, who had purged so many nobles.
His father, whom he respected, had taught him that the emperor could never show weakness.
But as long as one was human, there were limits to what was possible to endure.
The human, Jircniv, screamed in a way he could only in front of his closest aides. “I did ask him to use a spell. But I had to! We needed to know some of what he could do in order to figure out how to combat him! Yet I’m the one in the wrong?! It’s all my fault?! That’s what everyone and his brother are saying!” Jircniv bit his lip and tore at his hair with both hands.
Actually, that was just the beginning. He wanted to scream all the deepest emotions welling up inside him and thrash around. He only just managed to maintain imperial appearances.
But he was aware that he had pushed the limits.
This seems to be turning into a habit, he thought as he regained composure. “Sorry. I got a bit agitated. The stress lately is so bad, you know.”
When he glanced down at his hands, there were a couple of his hairs there.
Judging from the portraits, none of his ancestors had thin hair. He ended up at the pointless thought that he might be the first emperor to go bald.
He brushed off his hands in a way that might not alert his two guards. Sometimes sympathy hurt more than insults. Hair issues were precisely that sort of thing.
“Now that you’ve seen me like this, I’m sure saying this will only cause you trouble, but don’t worry about me. There must be a way to handle this. I won’t let him have his way with the empire.”
He put on what he felt was a fearless grin. His two subordinates smiled slightly.
But they didn’t seem relieved.
They must have realized that Jircniv’s remark was little more than consolation. Even Jircniv himself thought that unless a weapon that could definitively slay undead or a person with amazing powers appeared, it would be impossible.
Hence the Slane Theocracy. It has a longer history than we do. Maybe they have a weapon that can kill undead in a single blow. No, I can keep fighting even if all they bring us is knowledge!
Wishing for that was the only option he had left.
The carriage drove on—with Jircniv’s last hope aboard.
The arena was circular. One section had an entrance, which the carriage drove through. It was the entrance and exit for the handful of people with access to the noble guest box. Aside from that, there was the general admission entrance and the shipping entrance, for a total of three ways in and out.
Naturally, the first to disembark were the two knight bodyguards. After they made sure the area was safe, Jircniv got out.
Five men were there.
They didn’t appear the type to be anywhere near the VIP entrance.
Jircniv could usually guess the price of a piece of art from looking at it, but he couldn’t tell the value of the men’s equipment. That was because it wasn’t the work-of-art armor the guards of nobles wore but combat gear of people who had been through battles.
Etiquette required that the lower-status person introduce themselves first, but some adventurers didn’t pay attention to status. These men were that type.
But was it really all right for the ruler of the empire to humble himself before an adventurer?
Perhaps sensing Jircniv’s conundrum, one of the five men spoke. “Your Imperial Majesty, Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix. It’s an honor to meet you. We’re Argenti, the adamantite team who will be handling your request. I’m the leader of the team, Freiwaltz. Thank you for hiring us.” His commanding voice boomed.
On his back, he had a lute and on his hip, a rapier. The mail shirt he was wearing had a strange shimmer about it.
All of his gear was giving off a glow that wasn’t merely light reflecting but magic. Apparently, they were all first-rate magic items—especially the lute, which was supposedly called Star Symphony.
Seeing him so filled with confidence, Jircniv recalled his self of several months ago and felt a bit envious.
“You’re the greatest adventurer team in the country, so I’ve heard much about you. The story of how you defeated Radiant Crawler was simply thrilling. So, of course, I feel as though I know each of you very well. But in any case, can I get the heroes of the nation to introduce the
mselves from their own mouths?”
“Then since I’m a bard, I’ll make the—”
“Would you cut that out? Hearing that from you gives me gooseflesh. The sparkling blade and whatnot…please don’t. Oh, my apologies, Your Imperial Majesty. I’m not from anywhere very respectable, so I don’t have much way with words, but please forgive me.”
The man to the right of Freiwaltz took a step forward and bobbed his head.
He was small statured and had his hair cut very short. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes, which were too small for his head, weren’t as friendly. He was Keila no Södersten, a fixer, which was a thief-type class.
Not much was known about the fixer class, so many points were unclear, but they were most likely further underground than thieves, lurking in the darkness more like assassins.
When Jircniv told the slightly bowing man that he didn’t need to worry about it, Baswood barked a short laugh.
“Ha-ha. The emperor has been trained on me, so he’ll be fine.”
“Oh, who’s this? Lightning, of the Four? Are you by any chance from the same thereabouts?”
“Hmm? No, probably somewhere else. I come from a dirty back alley, but I bet you’re from somewhere rougher.”
“So it seems. I do get different vibes from you… Well, that was rude. Sorry to jump to conclusions.”
“No worries, Dark Cloud.”
“I don’t remember introducing myself as Dark Cloud… Agh, this is all your fault.”
When he glared over at Freiwaltz, the leader made his lips pouty. “If you’re going to be getting weird nicknames, maybe you should lead. Excuse me, Your Majesty. This is the eyes and ears of our time, Söder. Next, I’ll introduce our warrior. You may be surprised by his appearance, but of his abilities, I can assure you.”
“No, the emperor has no doubt. He looks stronger than me!”
“I’m glad to hear such a strong guy say that. The name’s Fahn Longuu.”
The one who was introduced was a monkey with bright-red hair who stood about five and a half feet tall. He wore armor that seemed to be made out of white animal skins and had a well-used battle-ax on each hip.
He was a subhuman race called a monkey, and in the report, it had noted that of the warrior-type-class beastlords, who harbored spirits of forest animals, he was one who possessed ape powers. Still, the shock of actually meeting him was quite intense.
And though he looked like this, he was stronger than Baswood, the strongest person in Jircniv’s party?
Fahn Longuu raised his right hand in greeting.
“Uh, okay. Next is our healer.”
A bit flustered, Freiwaltz introduced the next member. Perhaps he thought Jircniv would be displeased.
This time the man on Freiwaltz’s left took a step forward.
“Pardon me.” The strange staff in his hand made a jangling sound. Apparently, it was called a Priest of Buddhijin’s Staff. “My priest name is Unkei. I believe in Buddhijin. I hope everything will go smoothly.”
He was clad in strange clothes, but they were more civilized than the beastlord’s outfit.
On his head was a big hat—yet again strange—made of woven bamboo grass. He had no hair underneath. If Jircniv didn’t know he had shaved it, he would have turned a compassionate eye on him. And so young…
This man, wearing combat gear seen only very rarely in the empire, a kasaya, was a type of faith caster who, while perhaps a bit forced as a healer, was adept at fighting undead—a priest of Buddhijin.
This Buddhijin was a relatively minor deity with believers rather a ways to the south and said to be subordinate to the Four Gods. Jircniv was slightly embarrassed that he didn’t realize there was a shrine to Buddhijin in the empire, but apparently it was causing trouble.
Generally, healing magic was managed by the shrines, and the prices were set. So how to deal with someone who didn’t fit into that system at all and had their own healing magic? Especially if that person was an adamantite-plate adventurer?
There were no close ties between politics and religion in the empire. Jircniv felt lucky it had nothing to do with him.
He didn’t want to get embroiled in any more trouble than he already was.
Still, it was true that when he had investigated the feats they could perform, he was captivated by the mention of their outstanding ability to combat undead. Maybe it was necessary to put some pressure on the shrines. Of course, first he would have to see whether the man’s powers were truly useful or not.
“I see. Then the last one is Powapon?”
“That’s right, Your Majesty.”
When Freiwaltz introduced him, someone even weirder—perhaps the most unusual-looking one of them all—bowed.
Maybe because he had acquired the eccentric class of totem shaman, his tanned upper body was bare with a mysterious white pattern scrolled across it.
“…You’re not cold?”
“I have a magic item equipped that protects me from temperature fluctuations, so it’s no problem at all.”
Jircniv was inwardly surprised to get such a normal answer. The document had mentioned his strange appearance and also that he was a decent person. Still, the gap caught him off guard. When he took a closer look, he noticed the man had a fairly nice face and didn’t seem terribly old.
Half of Jircniv wanted to know why he had chosen to throw himself into this class, and the other half didn’t.
He took in Argenti.
It was a weird team made up of weird members. The only thing they had in common were the feathers decorating various parts of their gear—for the totem shaman, only around his loins—from the Argenti bird the team used to keep.
The feathers sparkled such a brilliant silver that it seemed like they had been plucked mere moments ago.
“Understood, gentlemen. Thanks for your help today.”
“Leave everything to us, Your Majesty. You’re in good hands.”
Hearing that from Freiwaltz, Jircniv had to stop himself from wincing and then strode on ahead. But…
“Could you wait a moment, Your Majesty?” Söder stopped him in a flat voice. “We were hired to protect you, so we’d like you to not walk out front, if that’s all right with you.”
“It’s not about what’s all right with me. I did hire you for that purpose, so if you think that’s what I should do, then I’ll comply, and that’s that. Also, if you ever think these men’s abilities would be useful, feel free to use them as you would—although I would appreciate it if you didn’t take them too far away from me.”
“Hooey, we’ve come up in the world if we get to give orders to members of the Four. But you two don’t need to leave the emperor’s side. As long as you follow our instructions and escape or run on ahead if something comes up, then you’re fine. All right, leader, a song if you please.”
“Got it. Your Majesty, I apologize that Söder’s mouth is so rough around the edges. I don’t mean to repeat myself, but…”
“It’s nothing to worry about. Although in public it could be a problem.”
Perhaps his feelings got through? Freiwaltz bobbed his head. It seemed to mean that he would have the man consider the time and place before speaking.
Then he sang a song. No, it was less like a song than a collection of mysterious sounds. That is, despite being able to hear it, Jircniv couldn’t understand it. The song was only a few seconds long, but its impact remained awfully strong. When it was over, Freiwaltz began to move.
The description would probably be something like sway or slither, but either way, it was a movement that would have been impossible for Jircniv.
“Okay, please follow ten yards behind.”
The party set off after following Söder’s instructions. Jircniv asked Freiwaltz next to him about the song.
“What in the world was that?”
“You aren’t familiar, Your Majesty?”
“It’s a bard skill called an intonation. Some perform them with instruments, but I can get the
effects by singing.”
“So that’s what it was…,” Jircniv murmured, and Freiwaltz smiled. Then Jircniv remembered something he’d been meaning to investigate but never had the time to, and it seemed like a good chance, so he decided to ask. “…There’s something I want to ask you. Can intonations manipulate people?”
“There’s one called Suggestion that I think would do it. It has the same effects as the magic spell. Some others like Charm Person can to some extent as well.”
Jircniv exchanged glances with Baswood. “I see… Is that right…?”
“Yes, it must be that.”
So was it a monster that could use bard abilities? Or…?
“So do you know anything about frog-like monsters?”
He couldn’t say for sure that some monsters weren’t born with that sort of ability. It was important to clarify that first.
“Frog-like? You mean like giant toads?”
“No, not like that. More intelligent. A monster that walks on two legs and can activate something like an intonation instantaneously.”
“…Maybe a toadman? A toadman bard would fit those parameters…but I didn’t get the feeling toadmen were very accomplished subhumans. Apparently, when a chief-level toadman gets older, he gains the ability to confuse enemies with a special call.”
Confusion was a bit different from what Jircniv was thinking.
He had read about toadmen in a book before, and he had the feeling Demiurge looked quite a bit different from them. He couldn’t rule out that he was a variety of a lord, but it seemed more likely that he was something else.
“It seems like you must be thinking of something else. My apologies, Your Majesty. I don’t have enough information. If you can give me any more details, I might be able to come up with the answer.”
That was just what he was hoping for.
“Oh? Then I’ll give you a detailed description of his appearance, so can you lend me your knowledge? Or could you tell me more about intonations?”
There couldn’t be anyone in the empire more knowledgeable about them than this adamantite adventurer.
The Ruler of Conspiracy Page 20