by Mamare Touno
Theldesia was a world dominated by monsters; even if the People of the Earth couldn’t defeat grotesque creatures, they were at least used to seeing them. However, they didn’t usually see giant insects in their everyday lives. In particular, the people in the urban areas were so afraid of these enemies—which attacked from the sky, ignoring the presence of the defensive walls—that they panicked.
What prevented the situation from deteriorating into a complete collapse was the fact that the moth monsters weren’t strong enough to break stone structures and force their way in.
After gathering in temples, shrines, and assembly spots to pass an uneasy night, the people discovered several of their comrades, as still as if they’d been frozen.
Their condition was diagnosed as a deep sleep, but it was obvious to everyone that they weren’t simply sleeping.
The window information revealed an intermittent decrease in MP. Attacks from the shining moths or excessive exposure to their scales resulted in lowered MP. In serious cases, the symptoms settled in, becoming an ongoing, sporadic MP decrease. This appeared to be MP-based physical deterioration. When an individual lost all their MP, they were unable to stay conscious. These comas had clearly been caused by such a loss, and what’s more, the leaks were fast and continuous enough that standard recovery wasn’t possible.
One day had passed since the night the moth monsters, known as Eternal Moths, had appeared and attacked.
“They’re asleep…”
“As we expected, they’re People of the Earth.”
Minori’s group, led by Nyanta, had left Akiba and were traveling northeast. It was a volunteer initiative to find People of the Earth who had lost consciousness in field zones and protect them.
Shiroe and the other executives who represented their guilds had had a very hard time leaving the guild center. Even Minori and the others hadn’t felt as if they could just saunter out and go hunting. In which case, they’d still wanted to help, and this volunteer activity had been the result.
It was likely they were able to do this because no damage had been confirmed among the Adventurers. That was why even Minori’s group could perform relief work.
Immediately to the east of Akiba, there was a ruin called the Metropol Circular Overpass. The People of the Earth called it a defensive wall, but Shiroe thought it might be the Metropolitan Expressway’s Mukoujima Route. In other words, it was the ruin of the highway that once ran through the heart of the city.
There were many ruins like this one, and they were well-preserved. Back when Elder Tales had been a game, the region around Akiba—in other words, the Kanto area—had been a place where players gathered. If you were going to distribute a variety of monsters across a limited area, naturally you needed some sort of borderline or divider. The elevated roadway had been just the thing.
All the elevated roads around Akiba were called “the Metropol Circular Overpass,” and the Mukoujima Route stretch was simply known as “the East-Side.” Many Hill Giants had lived in the vicinity, but due to the plague incident and a large-scale military drill by the Knights of the Black Sword, their population had been thinned out, and the area was now safe.
Immediately after the Catastrophe, this ruined elevated roadway had been mossy and decrepit. Rusted-out hunks of metal had sat here and there, and there had been many places where iron poles had fallen down and you could only get through on foot.
However, in the time since the Catastrophe, Honesty and the other combat guilds had cooperated with Shopping District 8 to improve the situation considerably. This was because it was expected to join river transport on the Kanda River as an artery for commodities.
At present, the rubble had been cleared away, and it had been improved to the point where even a large horse cart could travel along it without trouble. It was far more pleasant than the low-lying roads, which had many bumps and dips and were forced to weave between lots of ruined buildings, and it had acquired particularly great support from the People of the Earth who traded mainly with the Northeast. It had gotten to the point where People of the Earth merchants told one another that, once you crossed the river at Moriya, you’d practically arrived in Akiba.
Minori and the others were currently exploring this Metropol Circular Overpass, traveling north from Akiba. In the past half day, they’d found three groups of victims.
“I wonder where they’re from,” Touya asked.
“I believe they’re from the North,” Nyanta responded, looking thoughtful.
A man was slumped limply in the driver’s seat, leaning forward; Minori checked him but found no external wounds. He’d only lost his MP and fallen asleep.
“The horses must have run off.”
“Yes, just like ours did.”
“Times like this make you think that’s convenient, huh?”
Serara and Isuzu, who had been investigating the bed of the cart, had that exchange as they came back. Minori was looking up, watching an enormous circling bird that called once, then flew away to the south. It was a Giant Owl; it had probably been carrying an Adventurer scout from Akiba. Shiroe had told Minori they were excellent flying mounts, but because they couldn’t keep it up for all that long, they weren’t sent very far from their home base.
This area, a dozen or so kilometers northeast of Akiba, had many rivers. There were fewer ruined buildings, and the percentage of land covered by forests and stands of trees grew. If this area were cultivated, it would apparently be the perfect place for a settlement. In fact, there were several pioneer villages in the area, but she’d heard that other teams had already been sent out to help them evacuate.
“We’ll have to send them back.”
“Yeah.”
Minori and Touya promptly laid the sleeping People of the Earth down inside the cart. They had to put them in the gaps between cargo, but this partially stabilized them, so it was probably all for the best. Rather than carry three People of the Earth directly, it would be faster to just push the cart with them in it. The summoning pipe they’d borrowed was able to call strong, high-performance military horses, and one of them would be enough for a cart this size.
“I wonder what they’re gonna do about Shibuya.”
“Yeah…”
“I hear Old Li Gan said there’s some kind of ruin there.”
“Under the circumstances, I don’t think this is the time for that,” Minori told her brother.
Now isn’t the time described the current situation in a nutshell. Actually, now that she thought about it, she got the feeling that that had been the case ever since the Catastrophe. All sorts of things kept happening all the time, and they were constantly hard-pressed to deal with them.
Little by little, they’d grown accustomed to that, but, of course, that didn’t mean that when trouble broke out, they immediately knew how to handle it. To be accurate, it was more that they’d simply gotten used to the fact that “things happened.”
Here, something was always happening—crazy things. So much had transpired in Forest Ragranda, and in the village of Choushi, and then in the town of Saphir, too. Even now, they were vague on what should be done, but there was no point in running away and nowhere to run to, and Minori had learned that they had to face things squarely.
“The older guys have it rough, too.”
Touya sighed as he spoke; he had his arms folded behind his head.
She thought that was entirely accurate.
Adults have it rough was something Touya and Minori had stopped thinking a long time ago. The conclusion they’d come to was that there weren’t really any “adults” in this world. Minori had finally realized there hadn’t been any in their old world, either.
To Minori, adults were people who’d reached maturity and were affiliated with an organization best referred to as “the Adult Union.” She’d christened it herself, and even she thought it was an insubstantial-sounding name. In any case, the Adult Union was a vague organization to which mature grown-ups invariably belonged,
and within that organization, difficult decisions were made and debates carried out. These mature individuals acted on orders from the Adult Union. Since that union was an extremely large-scale organization (after all, every adult belonged to it!), all affiliated members were swiftly contacted with the appropriate way to handle difficult problems. That was why adults were able to assume developed attitudes.
The Adult Union was something like a company, or society, or insurance, or accounts, or municipalities, or the government—in any case, something along those lines. Minori thought, vaguely, that it was probably some sort of mixture of these.
However, there was nothing like that here in Theldesia, or the town of Akiba. The Round Table Council was probably something like an Adult Union, but it was Shiroe who was there, not “somebody from somewhere.” In other words, that meant there was no “clever, responsible, yet vague and rather confusing somebody-from-somewhere” who would solve Shiroe’s problems for him. Shiroe couldn’t be a member of the Adult Union: He was responsible for solving other people’s problems.
To put it another way, Shiroe wasn’t benefiting from the services of the Adult Union, so he wasn’t an adult. There wasn’t one single adult in this world.
In the same way, Minori and Touya’s parents hadn’t been adults.
After Touya’s accident, when they learned that it wouldn’t be possible to heal him completely, their parents had been heartbroken, and they’d fallen to pieces. They’d tried their best, but they hadn’t succeeded. Their mother had had to change workplaces, and their father had started coming home later. Minori had been a little shocked by that; after all, she’d thought, hazily, that her parents were far more “adult” than she and Touya were. That they had to be “adults.”
But now that she thought about it, that was only natural. Back then, the Adult Union hadn’t helped Minori and Touya’s parents. It hadn’t sent them anything resembling correct orders. Their parents had tried to face the problem all on their own, but it hadn’t gone very well.
Confronted with the disaster that had struck Touya, Minori and her family hadn’t been adult parents and twin children. They’d simply been a family of four people. There was no help for that, and she didn’t think it had been a bad thing. Minori and her family had become a team and searched for a way to get through the problem. Minori had done what she could, and Touya had done the things he was able to do. In retrospect, it had been like the Forest Ragranda training camp.
“I hear that Lord Sergiad collapsed in Maihama as well.”
“He stood at the head of the knights’ brigade and took command. That territory has a wonderful lord.”
A thin girl with a brown braid and an expressive youth with shining blond hair came around the side of the slowly moving cart.
They were Minori’s companions Isuzu and Rundelhaus. “Do you think he’s all right?” Serara—a kind-looking girl with a gentle profile—stuck her head out of the back of the cart as she spoke.
They were all Minori’s precious friends. She had no idea how long it had been since she thought about whether they were adults or children. Just like Minori, Isuzu was a girl named Isuzu, and because Minori knew her well, when she thought about her, there was no need for her to forcibly categorize her as an adult or a child. There were things Isuzu could do, and things she couldn’t do, and things she’d be able to do someday. The members of Minori’s group knew very well what the others could and couldn’t do.
“I think he’s all right. At the very least, they say there won’t be any immediate problems. His MP is gone, and he’s unconscious, that’s all.”
At Minori’s words, her companions nodded.
Minori knew that Shiroe and the others were currently at the guild center, arranging for various kinds of assistance. The listless people of Akiba, the Odysseia Knights in Saphir, the People of the Earth who wouldn’t wake up, their return to the old world… Shiroe and the rest had a lot of things they needed to think about. It certainly wasn’t because Shiroe was an adult; it was because he’d just happened to be sitting in that chair. Minori and Touya’s plea for help probably wasn’t completely unrelated, either.
And so Minori and the others had to help Shiroe, and it was what they wanted to do. Because he was family. When families worked together, it didn’t matter who was an “adult” and who was a “child.”
Minori flexed her biceps slightly and threw out her chest.
She’d thought it over thoroughly, and it had made her feel better. If that was how things were, then there was no problem. It was like acquiring more family members. Like, say, marrying Shiroe…
At that point, her cheeks grew hot, and she shook her head in an attempt to clear them. That wasn’t it; something purer. That sort of thing.
“Sh-shining…w…ings…,” murmured one of the unconscious men.
“Are they dreaming?”
It was Serara who’d spoken. She was watching an unconscious Person of the Earth in the back of the cart. He seemed to be delirious. When dawn had broken, the moths had vanished, but maybe they were still being attacked in their dreams.
“Those moths… I wonder if they’re gonna show up again tonight.”
“I don’t know, but we need to return to Akiba and get ready.”
“Mew’re right. Let’s break off our exploration here and head home.”
At Nyanta’s words, Minori and the others all nodded.
The full shape of the incident wasn’t yet clear to anyone.
2
As Minori had imagined, Shiroe and the other core members of the Round Table Council hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep that night. It had been the second such night in a row. On the night of Minori’s group’s expedition to the Metropol Circular Overpass, the monsters attacked again.
It was an even bigger shock to the Adventurers than the previous night’s attack.
Akiba spent a noisy night with many messengers racing back and forth, and in the gray predawn light, there was only a slight break before they began moving again. At the guild center, in the hall that was now called the Round Table Room, the same members who’d been there half a day previously were all assembled.
“So they’ve finally struck Adventurers, too?”
“According to eyewitness statements, it appears to be the work of mothlike monsters with shining wings.”
The mysterious flying insectoid monsters that had attacked Yamato two nights ago had used unidentified bad status attacks to trigger comas. The damage wasn’t immediately life-threatening, but it also wasn’t a threat they could overlook.
Two nights previously, the hostile monsters had attacked many People of the Earth. There had been well over a hundred victims, and that was just the ones the Round Table Council was aware of. At that point, they’d assumed that this unknown phenomenon affected only them.
Apparently, that wasn’t the case, though.
The faces of the Round Table Council guild masters who’d gathered in the conference hall were gloomy.
They had nearly limitless physical strength, but even for them, mental stress was different. As he looked around at them, Shiroe suppressed a sigh. Under the circumstances, anxiety was something that should probably be kept hidden.
“So these are moth spirits or somethin’, right?”
“They’re called Eternal Moths. Their level range is wide, from the eighties to around ninety. When this was a game, to the best of my knowledge, no such monsters existed.”
Riezé supplemented Marielle’s question with information that had been reported. All the members had been given reports that Shiroe had copied, but they were a mere two pages thick. They knew far too little. In the end, the sparseness of the reports seemed like a visible representation of the members’ psychological unease.
“It happened just as the moon rose, didn’t it? At six twenty-two PM, to be exact. We believe there will be a third wave of attacks tonight.”
“The first attacks put People of the Earth into comas, and the second affected Adve
nturers as well.”
“There were more moths, too. Even some of the monsters are asleep and foaming at the mouth.”
Roderick, Akaneya, and Michitaka—the heavyweights that formed the nucleus of the Round Table Council—spoke as if confirming the content of the report. This was shared information, already stated in a report that had been drafted in very little time that morning, but it was important to actually say it aloud. Staying silent was the worst possible option. On that thought, Shiroe nodded and added his own opinion: “There will probably be even more during the third wave… There’s a possibility their mysterious abilities will keep growing stronger as well.”
“What the heck are those things?” Akaneya complained with a groan.
“Currently, all we can say is that they’re a new type of monster,” Roderick responded in scholarly tones.
Additionally, there was new information:
“According to the Grandale members, they came from above. From the moon.”
That answer had come from Woodstock, who rode a wyvern, a flying mount. Grandale, the midsized guild he led, was a support guild that specialized in transport. Most of its members had tamed mounts, and a fair number of them had rare flying types.
“From the moon up in the sky, y’mean?”
In response to Marielle, Woodstock nodded, his whiskered face set in a grimace. If you went into a coma on the ground, you just fell down, went to sleep, and stayed there. Of course there was a danger that you’d be physically attacked while you were like that, but there was no direct, immediate peril. However, if you lost consciousness while you were on an airborne mount, you’d plunge straight to the ground, headfirst. Since it wasn’t clear how tough Adventurer bodies were or how much defensive power they had, they weren’t sure what the results would be, but it was a crisis that was pressing enough. To Grandale, these monsters were probably more of an urgent, troublesome danger than most Adventurers thought.