The Roses of Tartarus

by Gakuto Mikumo

  “I suppose not. I’m worried it’s out of the boat’s range anyway.”

  For once, Shio had no counterargument to Sayaka’s point of view.

  An Eight Trigrams Formation developed for military use changed formations in random patterns—and at a rapid pace at that. It was highly likely that a lifeboat aboard the combined freight and passenger ship would be unable to cope with those changes. Sayaka and Shio clutched their heads at that fact when—

  “Um… Can I have a moment?”

  —Yuiri raised a hand.

  Sayaka and Shio stared at her dubiously. Yuiri was a Sword Shaman who specialized in direct combat versus demons; large-scale ritual spells such as those employed with feng shui were outside her specialty.

  It was probably her own awareness of that fact that made Yuiri’s gaze wander, seeming somewhat lacking in confidence as she said, “Well, I can think of one way to travel a long distance faster than a boat could…”

  These words spoken, she shifted her eyes right beside her, where a girl with long, silver hair was sitting.

  “…Dah?”

  Perhaps noticing that she was suddenly the center of attention, Glenda, cheeks stretched from the onigiri she’d stuffed in her mouth, inclined her head with a visibly mystified look.

  2

  A giant television screen filling up an entire wall displayed the scorched state of the warehouse district. It was an image from the site of the terror bombing that took place at Itogami Island’s Great Pile the night before.

  The fires caused by the explosion spread, fanned by powerful winds at the time, and even with the passing of the night, it didn’t feel like things had yet come under control.

  The Gigafloat Management Corporation estimated that the food lost to the current sorcerous terrorism amounted to sixty days’ worth per Itogami City citizen. The losses were said to amount to ten or even twenty billion yen.

  “My, my, scorched in quite a spectacular manner.”

  Nina Adelard voiced irresponsible admiration as she gazed at the broadcast from the site of the fire. She was a beauty of the East not amounting to thirty centimeters tall, a liquid-metal life-form—and self-proclaimed Great Alchemist of Yore. More precisely, one might call her a lesser version of her former self.

  “You sure are optimistic about this. Like it’s got nothin’ to do with you.” Exhausted, Kojou glared at Nina.

  The mansion in Natsuki Minamiya’s possession had a particularly large living room. Carrying with them the body of Natsuki Minamiya that had been wounded—no, damaged—the night before by the Tartarus Lapse sniping attack, Kojou and Yukina remained at the mansion as morning came.

  Neither Kojou nor Yukina had slept a wink the night before. With various tasks pressing upon them, such as first aid to Natsuki and contacting the Island Guard and so forth, there had been no time to take a break. Even so, the state of the still-burning warehouse district weighed on their minds, leaving neither in a mood to sleep at that point.

  “Regrets over burnt supplies shall resolve nothing now.” Nina seemed to be speaking sarcastically as she bluntly made that assertion to the pair. “However, Tartarus Lapse should have paid finer care to the degree of flames. Had they cooked the frozen meat a trifle better, they would not have earned a grudge to this extent.”

  “Ain’t like anyone was gonna thank them for frying the meat along with the warehouses.” Kojou grimaced. “They weren’t having a barbecue.” Then he let out a languid breath. “Because you’re saying weird stuff like that, now I’m getting really hungry…”

  “Ah…”

  Sitting next to Nina, Kanon Kanase stood up in a minor show of haste.

  At that moment, Kanon was dressed in light-blue pajamas. Thanks to Kojou and Yukina having imposed just before she was about to go to bed, she’d probably lost track of the right time to change clothes.

  “Sorry, Akatsuki. I shall prepare breakfast at once.”

  “Ah… That’s not what I meant, Kanase. I didn’t say it to make you do that.”

  Kojou tried to call Kanon back as she hurried to the kitchen. Even if she was a houseguest at Natsuki’s place, Kanon was unrelated to the incident, so making her prepare breakfast on top of interfering with her restful sleep naturally tugged on his conscience.

  However, Kanon simply smiled and shook her head before proceeding on her way in silence.

  “I’d like to help you with that.”

  “Yeah, wait. I’ll go, too.”

  Speaking those words, Yukina and Kojou seemed set to go after Kanon, but Nina stopped them.

  “Wait, wait. ’Tis fine, let Kanon do as she pleases. Allowing her to cook shall surely set some of her worries at ease. Besides, Kanon shall be delighted to eat with both of you. After all, neither Natsuki nor I can grasp the taste of human food.”

  “I see… Come to think of it, both your bodies are…”

  As Nina smiled at her own expense, Kojou returned the glance, albeit stiffly.

  Nina was a metal life-form. Even if it was possible to bring food into her body via transmutation, she had no idea how that cooking tasted. It must have been the same for Natsuki.

  Natsuki’s real flesh-and-blood body continued to sleep inside her own dream, the place that had been dubbed the Prison Barrier. The Natsuki in the real world was an offshoot she animated through the use of magical energy.

  He understood the logic of it, but the shock of seeing it with his own eyes was great nonetheless. Natsuki’s body, freshly destroyed by a direct hit from a spell round, had been an inorganic doll.

  “I wonder if Ms. Minamiya is safe and sound…,” said Yukina, consumed with worry.

  Neither Kojou nor Yukina possessed any means of healing Natsuki. The only ones who had actually examined Natsuki’s damaged body were Nina and Astarte. In the first place, neither could repair magical avatars, and Natsuki would probably be ticked off if they’d been staring at her in such a wounded state.

  “Well, she herself is likely unharmed. After all, it is no small thing to wound the true body of the Witch of the Void while she is held captive in her own dream,” Nina reassured them, albeit bluntly.

  “That said, to think she could turn a doll into a magical avatar in that state. No doubt it shall take a fair amount of time until she is able to move within the real world again. The shock of her avatar being destroyed was likely conveyed to her as well.”

  “Guess that figures…” Kojou’s mood was gloomy as he nodded.

  To Natsuki, that avatar doll was probably like a musician’s favorite instrument—at least, that was how he envisioned it. To have one’s instrument break mid-performance delivered proportional damage to the performer. Of course, so long as the instrument remained broken, the musician could not play it, even if the musician was unharmed themselves; nor was it something that could be immediately replaced.

  “Can’t you do something with your own power? You’re the Great Alchemist of Yore, right?”

  “Simply repairing the avatar is a trifling matter,” Nina readily replied.

  To her, able to freely manipulate matter at an atomic level, there was no way she couldn’t restore a broken doll to its original state.

  “Regardless, repairing it would be meaningless. Even if one sews up the wound of a human being, that does not mean they can immediately move the same as before. ’Tis a similar thing. Just like severed arteries and nerves must be mended, it must be Natsuki’s own magical energy that courses through it, and that shall take time.”

  “Meaning that stuff in this world just ain’t that convenient, huh?”

  Visibly dejected, Kojou slumped against the sofa.

  Nina nodded her head in agreement.

  “Though spellcraft and alchemy are things to be proud of,” she said, “they cannot violate the principles of the world. In that sense, it is no different than science. ’Tis truly an inconvenient thing.”

  “Well, I get that… To be honest, I’m just shocked…”

  He hadn’t intended to u
nderestimate Tartarus Lapse, but with Natsuki there, he figured they’d scrape by—a notion in his mind with no basis in fact. He’d relied on her for everything. He felt like Tartarus Lapse had thrust his softness into his own face.

  “I apologize… This is because I did not stop the sniping attack…”

  Yukina remained downcast as she murmured in a small voice. Though she possessed Spirit Sight—which peered an instant into the future—she had been unable to save Natsuki, which surely made her feel responsible.

  “The Spirit Sight of a Sword Shaman of the Lion King Agency, yes?” Nina raised her eyebrows as if remembering a past piece of interest. “However, even if one can peer an instant into the future, is it not ineffective against what you cannot see with the naked eye? To begin with, it is impossible to strike down a bullet flying at over twice the speed of sound from a place over a kilometer away. Even for you.”

  “But…” Yukina bit her lip, unable to retort.

  A Sword Shaman could evade a bullet from a normal rifle with ease. Even if she could not see the bullet, her instantaneous vision of where the bullet would land allowed her to estimate its arc.

  However, Tartarus Lapse had employed an anti-materiel rifle for ultra-long-range sniping. Furthermore, the bullet used was a spell round. Just as Nina had pointed out, Yukina bore no responsibility for Natsuki’s wounds. There was nothing she could have done. Still, from Yukina’s point of view, having her own limits as a Sword Shaman thrust into her face was no real consolation.

  “Well, truly, Tartarus Lapse was correct to snipe Natsuki straightaway. Natsuki, employing teleportation, is something of a sniper’s mortal enemy.” Nina snorted, displaying her admiration.

  Even if the person was hidden in a place several kilometers removed, Natsuki could cross that distance in the blink of an eye. To a sniper, there was no more formidable foe. Therefore, Tartarus Lapse had aimed at Natsuki, inflicting maximum damage to remove her before Kojou and the others realized the sniper was even there.

  “I guess so… This ain’t good…”

  Kojou, too, realized the gravity of the situation. With Natsuki unable to engage in combat, they had no way to stop Tartarus Lapse’s sniping. Even Kojou, supposedly immortal, would need a fair amount of time to revive if he was gravely wounded, like if half his body was blown away. Furthermore, with Yukina unable to evade even with her Spirit Sight, she and Kojou had no means left with which to resist.

  “In the first place, against terrorist opponents, there is no hope of victory if one loses the initiative. It would take engaging from your side, or at minimum, maneuvering ahead of them and lying in ambush.”

  “Easier said than done, though…”

  The advice and knowing look Nina gave annoyed Kojou as he stared her down. It was just then that the living room door opened, and the other guest of the Minamiya household emerged.

  This was a petite homunculus with indigo hair—Astarte. Perhaps because she was attending to the damaged Natsuki, she wore not her usual maid outfit, but pink nurse’s attire instead.

  “Hey, Astarte. How’s Natsuki doing? Is she all right? She didn’t tell you anything, did she? In a case like this, I’d take anything…”

  Kojou poured faint hope into his barrage of questions.

  Astarte’s expression remained neutral as she inclined her head slightly and said, “As the search parameters are unclear, I am unable to answer.”

  “R-right… Sorry.”

  Implication didn’t work well on her. Somehow, the very Astarte-like reply left Kojou feeling apologetic.

  In his place, it was Yukina who continued the questions.

  “Did Ms. Minamiya leave you with any kind of instructions?”

  “A single result fits that parameter. She requested that I investigate the Roses.”

  “…The Roses?”

  “Affirmative. She said, ‘Investigate the Roses of Tartarus.”

  Kojou and Yukina met each other’s faces with conflicted looks. Neither recognized the term. But judging from how the words come off, it’s probably connected to Tartarus Lapse, Kojou thought. Clinging to hope, he shifted his gaze Nina’s way, but she merely shook her head, apparently knowing nothing of it.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  As Kojou and Yukina mulled over the true nature of these mysterious Roses, Kanon returned, dressed in an apron. She’d finished making breakfast. The lovely scent of fresh-baked bread was wafting in from the dining hall.

  “Ah. Thanks, Kanase.”

  “Sorry we didn’t lend a hand. I’m sure it will be quite a feast.”

  Kojou and Yukina stood up, seemingly seduced by the scent of food. Seeing Kojou like that, Kanon looked up and smiled with delight as she said, “Please eat as much as you like. After all, no one knows how long the remaining food on this island will last.”

  “……”

  Well, that was morbid, Kojou thought, grimacing.

  3

  A light morning haze hung in the air as Asagi Aiba, wearing her school uniform, lazily climbed a hilly road.

  She yawned a great “Fwah” as she wiped moisture from the corners of her eyes. Thanks to the Island Guard server repair work having strayed until late in the night, she’d had almost no sleep the night before.

  “If you’re gonna cancel school, get in touch with people faster, would you? I got up early for nothing.”

  Irritated, Asagi fired off complaints at the smartphone resting in her hand. In response to the terror bombing occurring in Island East, all public schools within Itogami City had temporarily suspended classes. Saikai Academy, attended by Asagi and her classmates, was no exception.

  Having long left her house, Asagi didn’t get the news until she arrived at the nearest train station. If it was going to be like this, I should have just skipped classes to start with, thought Asagi with a modest amount of regret.

  “Keh-keh, looks like those teachers are pretty confused themselves.”

  Coursing out from the smartphone’s speaker was the echo of a synthetic yet oddly humanlike voice. This was the voice of the avatar of the five supercomputers that administered the entirety of Itogami Island—the AI that Asagi had dubbed Mogwai.

  “Yeah, really. Well, in this situation, it’s no surprise…”

  Asagi glanced sidelong at the stiff-faced policemen standing at this and that intersection, shrugging a bit.

  Even armed Island Guard personnel had been positioned at monorail stations and bus stops. However, the security network of surveillance cameras and sensors stretching all over Itogami Island made such primitive security and patrol work largely meaningless.

  The fact that police were standing in such conspicuous places was less a countermeasure against terrorism than to ward off a citizen riot. On top of the supply of foodstuffs from beyond the island being cut, even the Great Pile had been destroyed. Worry and distrust among the citizenry was, if anything, quite natural.

  “So should you really be walkin’ around like that, li’l miss?”

  Asagi shot Mogwai a casual smile in response to his sarcastic-sounding question.

  “No problem, right? The Island Guard seems to have its reserve guardsmen and even demon mercenaries on full mobilization, searching around for the culprits. We have the island’s surveillance network back, so that Tartar-whatever bunch won’t be able to move very freely.”

  “Lot of guts for someone who almost got killed a little ways back.”

  “It’s not like they were targeting me specifically.”

  When Mogwai raised an exasperated voice, Asagi retorted with a firm expression.

  Certainly, the car bomb the day before had shocked her. But Asagi couldn’t think of any reason she’d be targeted by a terror organization. It was more natural to think she’d just happened to come across the site of an indiscriminate terror attack. Unlucky coincidences like that wouldn’t keep happening again and again—such thoughts put her firmly at ease.

  “Well, I’ll just see Motoki’s face and g
o right back home. Kojou’s probably thinking about him, too, y’know,” Asagi said, curving her way onto a dreary street.

  Yaze’s father, wrapped up in the terror bombing at Keystone Gate, was still listed as missing. Half a day had already passed since the incident had occurred; there was already little hope of finding him alive. Though Asagi was worried about the progress of the rescue work, she was even more worried about Yaze’s state of mind. They’d known each other for ages through thick and thin before even entering elementary school. He felt closer to an unreliable older brother than any mere friend, and she knew Yaze’s personality through and through.

  He had to be incredibly depressed and withdrawn all by himself. As much as he behaved frivolously, he could sink into some very dark short-term funks. In this situation, I can’t do much to console him, but I should at least go see his face, she thought as she headed to Yaze’s boarding house.

  It was then the smartphone in Asagi’s hand shook with a minute buzz. Mogwai arbitrarily informed Asagi of the contents before she could even check the screen.

  “It’s a message, li’l miss. From my bro Kojou.”

  “From Kojou? What’d he say…?”

  Without her intending it, Asagi’s voice leaped. It was very rare for Kojou to get in touch so early in the morning.

  “He wants you to look up the Roses of Tartarus.”

  “—That idiot, what does he think I am? With Itogami Island in this state, he should spare a little more consideration for how I’m doing…”

  “Keh-keh… It’s soooo bad being relied on, li’l miss.”

  “Oh, shut up!”

  The smartphone cracked under Asagi’s grip as she shouted.

  “More importantly, do you know something about it? The Roses of Tartarus?”

  “Who knows… I tried searching just now, but seems there ain’t any data related to it on this island.”

  Mogwai’s reply was prompt. Perhaps he’d expected Asagi would ask him that.

  “And the Gigafloat Management Corporation archives?”

  “Not a peep. I could rummage through outside information agencies, but that’s obviously gonna take some time.”