by Mamare Touno
“What do you mean?” Krusty said, responding to Shiroe.
“It’s about the cause of this invasion.”
‘The cause? You have an idea about what that might be?’
One of the present attendants was relaying the exchange via telechat. The question had probably come from Soujirou of the West Wind Brigade. Shiroe prefaced his response with: “This is only my conjecture, not verified fact,” then began to speak:
“It’s likely that the Return of the Goblin King is behind this invasion.”
At Shiroe’s words, not only the room in which the three guild masters were conversing, but the Round Table Council in Akiba, and Marielle—who was participating from central Zantleaf via telechat—fell silent.
The Return of the Goblin King had been a regularly occurring game event, back when Elder Tales was a game.
Seventh Fall, the Goblin tribes’ castle, was located in the deepest part of the Black Forest, a deep, dark forest in the Ouu region.
Once every two years, the coronation of the Goblin King was held at this castle. The individual crowned was the strongest leader among the six local goblin tribes.
Explained in game terms, it was an event that occurred once every two months in Earth time. During this event, the entrance to the Seventh Fall zone was opened for just one week, and any player who was able to sneak in and subjugate the Goblin King within that period would acquire a powerful item.
The event had been extraordinarily popular, for two reasons: First, the items dropped by the Goblin King were fairly powerful ones. They weren’t magic items that a player from a major guild with an ultrahigh level would want badly enough to kill for, but within the range of items that the average player was able to obtain, their performance made them highly sought after.
A second point, one that couldn’t be overlooked, was that the castle guard and the Goblin King’s strength were variable.
According to the game’s backstory, “Goblin King” was a position taken by the strongest Goblin of the surrounding tribes. In other words, if players attacked the Goblin strongholds scattered across the Ouu region beforehand and chipped away at their power, the strength of the Goblins in the Seventh Fall zone would be significantly reduced. In addition, the level and strength of the Goblin King would be weakened.
Due to these peculiarities, the Return of the Goblin King had grown popular as a fulfilling quest that players could challenge even if they didn’t belong to a major combat guild.
“—That’s right. The Return of the Goblin King, the one with which you’re all familiar. There’s an important element to that event which we’re forgetting, since it almost never actually happened.”
The subjugation of the Goblin King required a raid, but as long as you’d cut back the goblins’ power beforehand, the difficulty wasn’t high at all, to the point where it might as well have been designed for midsized guilds. For that reason, even Shiroe didn’t know of any cases where the Goblin King went unsubjugated within that one-week period.
However, if memory served him right, there had been an additional note in the event description.
“I see… You mean the bit about how, if the Goblin King doesn’t get subjugated within that one week, he’ll unite the surrounding goblin tribes and form an army dozens of times bigger?”
Michitaka had put his finger on it, and Shiroe nodded.
It was just as he’d said.
Once successfully crowned, the Goblin King would become the hero of the goblin tribes, and his forces would increase dramatically.
Ever since the Catastrophe, Shiroe and the other Adventurers had been desperate to create a livable environment for themselves in this other world. So desperate, in fact, that although the Return of the Goblin King had been a popular event when Elder Tales was a game, they’d let it slip by without a thought.
“‘Do you think the goblins have managed to hold on to all their power as well?’” one of the attendants asked, conveying a messaged received via telechat.
Shiroe thought a little, then nodded. “Yes. Absolutely no attacks were launched against the six surrounding tribes this time around, and no successive attacks were mounted on Seventh Fall, the Goblin King’s main castle. It’s probably best to assume that the levels of the Goblin King’s royal guard and combat units are the highest they’ve ever been. Of course, the King is probably formidable as well. …What makes me more uneasy is the question of how large the united goblin tribes actually are.”
A subdued silence filled the conference room.
Every one of them was mute, not because they wanted to be, but because they didn’t know what to say.
That said, it didn’t turn into a panic, most likely because they’d been granted a certain sense of security. They’d received a report that the summer camp group had safely evacuated to the abandoned school, and Marielle of the Crescent Moon League was currently taking part in this conference by telechat from that very school.
Since the telechat function could only be used one-on-one, Henrietta was in the conference room, in communication with Marielle and acting as her proxy.
In addition, even if powerful monsters surrounded the abandoned school in which the group had barricaded itself, the group could use Call of Home to find shelter in Akiba, and they wouldn’t take any damage.
The fact that there was a large goblin army on the move near the root of the Zantleaf Peninsula meant it was probably heading west or south, razing nearby villages and settlements as it went, but there was still some distance left between it and the town of Akiba. Besides, even if the army did attempt to invade, Akiba had enough manpower to engage it.
And while the Goblin King was more powerful than he’d ever been, they could guess his approximate level. Subjugating the Goblin King required a full raid—twenty-four Adventurers—and there were more than five hundred times that in Akiba.
Still, this time is…
The town of Akiba was fine. However, Eastal, the League of Free Cities, couldn’t afford to sit by idly, as Akiba’s Round Table Council could. If the army of ten thousand stayed the size it was currently, it would have enough power to capture a weaker fortified city.
Unfortunately, Shiroe didn’t have much military knowledge, so he couldn’t say for certain, but he suspected that quite a few of the League of Free Cities’ lords were turning pale.
“What about the Knights of Izumo?”
Henrietta spoke hesitantly, addressing the whole group.
At her words, a murmur of something like agreement went up: “Oho,” “Now that you mention it…”
The Knights of Izumo.
They were a chivalric order on the Japanese server, composed of Ancients.
Ancients were heroic beings born from among the People of the Earth. They had combat abilities that surpassed even Adventurers’ abilities, and they were the good human races’ trump card. The Adventurers’ overwhelming numbers meant they’d practically monopolized demihuman subjugation and quests ever since they’d first appeared in this world, but during battles where the fate of the world hung in the balance, chivalric orders of Ancients always stepped in.
There were twelve servers around the world, and thirteen chivalric orders. One of these, the Knights of Izumo, held a position equivalent to guardian deity for the Japanese server, or rather, for the Yamato Archipelago.
When Elder Tales was a game, Shiroe had frequently heard stories of these knights. It wasn’t just him, either; the higher players’ levels got, the more often they heard tales of the legendary chivalric orders. On quite a few quests, they fought alongside them or followed in their footsteps.
Because they were the guardians of all the good human races in this world, they didn’t involve themselves in political conflicts between lords, but they’d probably bestir themselves for a demihuman invasion.
From the atmosphere in the conference room, everyone seemed to feel as if there was no need for them to do anything, but Shiroe was skeptical. For example, they hadn’t confi
rmed whether the Knights of Izumo were still functional at this point.
He was irritated with himself for being overly critical as usual, but it seemed strange to him that the goblin tribes would head south in the first place. All the official site had said about it was, “If left alone, the Goblin King will unite the nearby forces and build a great kingdom.”
…Is this really all right?
However, it wasn’t as though Shiroe had a clear answer, either. Besides, now that the Spirit Theory issue was on the table, he was hesitant about conducting a large-scale battle.
4
“Princess, Princess. …Princess Raynesia?”
At her maid’s voice, Raynesia turned.
“What is it…?” she asked, tilting her head.
The look was so adorable that if the palace knights had been there, they would have been smitten by it and pledged lifelong loyalty, but the person who was actually there was a maid who’d served her closely for long years.
“Were you thinking, milady? Lunchtime’s still a ways off.”
She returned a casually mean response.
Even so, for a remonstration, it was rather friendly. As far as Raynesia’s actions went, “thinking” was unusual. She “brooded” much more than she “thought,” and what she did most of all was “space out.”
“Hm? …Was that what it looked like, Elissa?”
Maybe because she was used to it, Raynesia didn’t argue about any of it; instead, she responded to her question with a question.
Raynesia was seated at the vanity, and the maid she’d called Elissa circled around behind her and began combing her magnificent silver hair.
“Yes, it did look like that. It’s an unusual thing for you, Princess.”
At those words—truly unusually—Raynesia became lost in thought again.
The trick to telling them apart was in her gaze. When she lowered her eyes slightly and all emotion vanished from her face, she was “thinking.”
But the expression where her gaze slid diagonally down, and she seemed to be enduring distress yet still trying to smile, was “brooding.” When she was depressed over things—and they were usually the sort of things that made Elissa think, Why that?—this was the expression she wore.
This was the true identity of the smile university graduates and civil servants couldn’t get enough of, the “Twilight mystic princess filled with melancholy” smile. …Although what she was worried about were things like I’m afraid I really did eat too much at dinner last night…or What if they throw away those old pajamas I’ve worn out?
The expression that was highly popular with knights, military officers and other tough, physical types was the “spacing out” face. In that one, she tilted her head slightly with an entranced, dreaming expression and gave the faintest of smiles. If she spaced out even more, her eyes grew moist, making it even more charming.
In this case, since she was “spacing out,” asking her about it would reveal that she really wasn’t thinking anything at all. It would often be something like, “My, what lovely weather,” or “I’d like to have a nap.” Hearing that much made her sound dumb, but from what Elissa had seen, her mistress Raynesia was dumb, so there was no real mistake there.
…At least in ordinary, everyday life, at any rate.
Honestly! Beautiful people are so difficult to deal with. They really are.
There was nothing Elissa could do but sigh.
She was a lady-in-waiting who served the princess, after all, and compared to the average girl, she was considered quite a beauty herself. When she went to the castle town on her occasional day off, she was invariably accosted by men she didn’t know.
However, although Elissa considered herself “a pretty woman,” she didn’t think she was beautiful or lovely. The ones who were beautiful in the truest sense of the word were people like Raynesia. Beauty on that level was an ability completely independent of the person it belonged to, and its effects operated in a separate dimension from Raynesia’s own character and intentions.
I’m not particularly jealous, myself.
With a small sigh, Elissa kept combing the luxuriant silver waterfall of Raynesia’s hair. Even a single skein of the hair that flowed coolly between her fingers was a treasure worth its weight in gold.
“…He hasn’t come by today, has he?” Feeling as if she’d like to tease her a little, Elissa slipped the words into their current conversation.
“Pardon?”
“Master Krusty.”
“—Why?”
“No reason. You often take lunch together these days, that’s all. Considering the time, I thought it he was about due to invite you somewhere or pay a call.”
“D-do you think so…?”
Raynesia’s response was a bit flustered. This “slightly upset” Raynesia wasn’t the “lovely princess” the knights adored.
She was a marvelously beautiful princess, of course, but rather than “lovely,” she looked a terribly naïve and awkward girl…or, in common terms, a completely hopeless one. Elissa liked this version of her mistress.
“Yes, I do. Gentlemen are always so insensitive, aren’t they? Here we are, doing our best with our traveling wardrobe and really struggling, and yet they don’t even consider the convenience of our outfits. Good gracious me. …You wore the pearl dress, the lavender stole, and the amethyst necklace to yesterday’s luncheon party, didn’t you. The day before was the pale rose-violet satin… Yes, the double-tiered dress.”
“Yes.”
The Raynesia in the mirror looked back at Elissa with a blank expression. Apparently she didn’t understand what Elissa was saying.
“Listen to me, Princess. This is not Maihama’s Castle Cinderella. In consequence, there is a limit to your wardrobe. If you take lunch with one particular gentleman this many times in a row, there are only so many combinations we can use to make it look as though you have a variety of dresses. Since it is a luncheon party, you can’t wear the sort of cocktail dress you’d wear to a supper party, and we must exercise restraint in how much skin we expose during the day. Of course, if dining in the courtyard, the shape of your cuffs must be appropriate, and if dining indoors, we must consider how the colors will look against the wallpaper…”
After mulling over Elissa’s words for a short while, Raynesia spoke timidly.
“I could just wear what I wore yesterday…”
“No. Lunching in the same dress, two days in a row? Are you some backwater country girl?” Elissa promptly interrupted.
“Then… What about the silk dress-shirt with a highland kilt-skirt?”
“Those are to wear in your room. And really, that’s what you wear specifically to laze around in, Princess!”
At her staff’s ferocity, Raynesia fell silent, looking rather like a scolded puppy. Even then, she looked as if she were withstanding hardship while harboring melancholy: Beautiful people were a force to be reckoned with.
Still, inside her head, she’s a failure of a human being. A highland kilt-skirt indeed! That isn’t the sort of outfit one can show to gentlemen. She isn’t a tavern wench.
“I really don’t think Master Krusty would care about that sort of thing…”
“Not true. Gentlemen will say, ‘I don’t care, I don’t care,’ but inside, they’re ruthlessly evaluating you. That is an absolute given. ‘I love you just the way you are,’ they’ll say, but if you act fuzzy-headed around them, they’ll be gone in a twinkling. That is what gentlemen are. What’s required is ‘to look natural,’ not to actually be natural! Listen, Princess, in the first place, you are—”
However, just as Elissa was beginning to warm to her sermon, she was interrupted by a knock.
The man who came in, trailing his steward and seeming too impatient to wait for a response, was Raynesia’s father, Phenel.
“Oh, Raynesia. Listen, and try to stay calm.”
Exuding consternation, Phenel took a great gulp out of a glass of water that had been handed to him, then squ
eezed out the words:
“A huge horde of goblins is bearing down on the city of Maihama. There seem to be close to ten thousand of them. Even now, the enemy’s numbers are increasing, and in a few days, they will probably be a massive army several times their current size. …In the worst-case scenario, of course.”
For a moment, Elissa was unable to grasp the meaning of the words.
Ten thousand. Ten times one hundred was one thousand, and this was ten times that.
The city of Maihama was the largest residential area in Eastal, but its population was only about thirty thousand, including farmers, merchants, and everyone else. Maihama’s forces consisted of one thousand civic security officers who policed the city and the four hundred Maihama Knights who worked at the castle. Even including the patrolling chivalric orders brought it to a total of at most two thousand, give or take.
The moment she’d thought that far, Elissa felt all the blood in her body retreat with a roar.
A hostile army of ten thousand!!
If the enemy was demihumans, the citizen volunteers would hardly stand a chance. She’d heard the word siege before, but to a lady-in-waiting like Elissa who knew nothing of war, two thousand seemed to have no chance of victory against ten thousand.
“Of course it isn’t certain that the ugly demons will attack our cherished treasure, the city of Maihama. The town of Tsukuba and several other nobles’ territories are in the danger zone as well. However, the circumstances are unpredictable. I’m just about to hurry back to Maihama.”
“Father! In that case, I’ll go with—”
Raynesia was on the point of rising, her expression serious and sharp.
True, Raynesia was bad at associating with people; she was an idler, and spacey, and it was hard to believe she was the daughter of a great noble family.
However, while it was hard to believe that she was the daughter of a great family, it wasn’t that she was unsuited to be one.
She wasn’t unsuited. Not a bit. This half-hearted, irresponsible princess had inherited the blood of the Cowen family, one of only two remaining dukedoms in Yamato. The exalted lineage of the princess on whom Elissa waited and the latent abilities it held were the only things she had never doubted.
