Game’s End Part 2

by Mamare Touno

  “The numbers aren’t that much of a threat,” Soujirou said nonchalantly. “A group of Adventurers can battle equal numbers of monsters again and again, you know. If the enemy is goblins, even a midlevel player can fight them ten times in a row, give or take. If there were fifteen hundred of us, we could annihilate them.”

  This was a sound argument, but on the other hand, it evoked blood-soaked carnage.

  “Well, we might be fine, but I doubt it’ll work that way for the Lords’ Council,” Michitaka countered Soujirou. At that, Soujirou gave an amiable laugh and scratched his head, saying, “Now that you mention it, you’re right.”

  “Either way, as the telechat conference concluded, the Round Table Council has entrusted the response for this incident entirely to Krusty and the rest of the delegation. Since the goblins have attacked, it’s all the nobles of Eastal are talking about as well, isn’t it? In that case, it’s more efficient to talk here, rather than in Akiba.”

  Although they’d decided to watch how things developed as a general rule, in a situation where they could expect to be contacted by the Lords’ Council, they couldn’t debate all responses in Akiba. As a result, this was the answer Akiba’s Round Table Council had chosen.

  During negotiations such as these, it wasn’t advisable to restrict the authority of the people who were actually on location with the other party. They’d put their faith in the three of them as special envoys and given them full power.

  “Well, mission accepted. We won’t do anything to put Akiba at a disadvantage,” Michitaka assured Soujirou, laughing brazenly.

  After Shiroe had seen this, his eyes went to Krusty.

  The big, handsome fellow wore a calm expression. He was gazing fixedly at the map, and he hadn’t spoken at all; he seemed to be lost in thought.

  “—Aren’t the Knights of Izumo going to move?”

  Shiroe was the one who accurately caught Krusty’s quiet question. Accurately and deeply, meaning included.

  “I think some trouble we’re not aware of has come up. The Suzaku Gate Demon Festival, for example.”

  Like the Return of the Goblin King, the Suzaku Gate Demon Festival was a recurring game event that happened once every three months in real-world time. The event developed a story in which the gates of hell had been opened and demons had flooded out into the world.

  The difference between it and the Return of the Goblin King was that the Return of the Goblin King took place mainly in the Tohoku region, while the Suzaku Gate Demon Festival occurred in the Heian City of Exorcism.

  In other words, if a similar disturbance was occurring in the west, it was possible that the Knights of Izumo had turned their forces in that direction. He didn’t really believe in the idea, but Shiroe mentioned it anyway.

  “Hmm…”

  It was hard to tell whether the answer had convinced Krusty or not. With his arms still folded, he retreated into silence again.

  …There may never be another opportunity to confess.

  Of course he’d run various calculations and predicted future developments. However, Shiroe had to call the reason for his final decision a premonition.

  “I have one more thing to report.”

  “Hm? What is it, Shiroe?”

  “Master Shiroe…?”

  Waiting until all eyes in the room were on him, Shiroe began to speak.

  “It’s about ‘death’ in this other world. If we die, we revive in the Temple. We hadn’t thought about it any other way. If we pay a penalty in experience points, we thought, our bodies come back to life. We believed it implicitly, and naïvely, because that was how it was in Elder Tales.”

  Krusty had been lost in thought, but at Shiroe’s words, his head came up and he began to listen.

  “According to the information I’ve obtained… It hasn’t been confirmed yet, of course. This hasn’t been completely substantiated, but death in this other world also carries commensurate risk. I don’t mean losing some items or a few experience points. —At death, our yang energy is used to resurrect our yin energy and our bodies. Every time it happens, we seem to experience very slight memory loss.”

  The conference room was meant for a small group, and it wasn’t very large. It was magnificent, though, and at a glance, it looked like a reception room. Currently, however, the air in that room was fraught with a tension that was practically palpable.

  “It isn’t clear how much of our memory we lose. We also don’t know what sort of memories are lost… However, according to the hypothetical theory I discovered in a certain book, it does appear to happen.”

  No one seemed able to react to Shiroe’s words.

  After a long, long time, Krusty responded, briefly:

  “Understood. …I assume that’s why I’m missing memories from the old world, then. It makes sense now.”

  “……!!”

  All eyes went to the massive warrior, who seemed completely composed. Even under those gazes, Krusty sat calmly, and his cool demeanor didn’t flicker.

  “D.D.D. is a combat guild. Before Akiba’s renaissance, we conducted fierce combat training in order to adapt to battles in this world. I’ve experienced death a few times myself. I don’t generally worry about it, but it’s true that there are gaps. I can’t confirm it, but…it seems as though memories of the old world selectively drop out.”

  “B-but that’s…”

  “What the hell?!”

  “Specifically what areas, and how much?”

  Henrietta and Michitaka had started out of their chairs, nearly shrieking. Shiroe checked them, looked steadily at Krusty, and asked his question in a firm voice.

  “I’ve died twice since the Catastrophe. Pinpointing holes in one’s memory is a fairly difficult task. If everything that relates to what you could pinpoint as missing is itself missing, it’s very hard to notice it, you see. All I can say is that, at present, the memory loss is still partial. The name of the elementary school I attended, the faces and nicknames of my friends from middle school, the design on my computer’s wallpaper, the lyrics of songs I liked— They’re all still there. From what I can tell, subjectively, nothing has been lost. However, I know I kept a cat, but I can’t think of its name or what it looked like. —The problem is that it’s extremely hard to tell whether these gaps are losses stemming from the yin-yang energy issue, or whether they’re ordinary forgetfulness. That said, my memory is comparatively good, so I presume it’s due to special circumstances, in other words, to the influence of this matter. That’s about all I can put my finger on. Right now, I don’t see any losses concerning my own name or information on family members or people I was close to. I don’t know whether that’s because important memories are protected, or whether it’s just a coincidence. However, if my own case can be applied to others, dying a few times doesn’t seem to result in memory loss that would inconvenience anyone. Even if one died several dozen times, it probably wouldn’t be enough to affect day-to-day life.”

  Even dying several dozen times wouldn’t be enough to affect day-to-day life.

  True, simply forgetting a cat’s name wouldn’t cause some grave problem to occur immediately. It would have no effect on clothing, food, or shelter.

  That said, even if it caused no inconvenience in their everyday lives, it was a shocking confession.

  In a way, it was safe to say that Shiroe’s guess had been correct. As he’d anticipated, the memory loss was partial, and they didn’t lose everything by dying once. At the very least, his guess that memories disappeared in amounts the person in question wouldn’t notice had been correct.

  However, that didn’t mean that the fact didn’t shock him. After all, these were nothing less than memories of the old world. That was impact enough to plant an instinctive terror in the players; logic didn’t even come into it.

  The group was speechless. The corners of Krusty’s lips curved into a smile.

  “There’s no need to be so pessimistic. Just don’t die. If we avoid that, the memory loss
won’t occur. And besides…”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Soujirou comforting a pale Henrietta. Soujirou was a harem maker, and he always ended up improving others’ opinions of him in situations like this.

  Michitaka was dumbfounded. “Great Caesar’s Ghost…”

  However, to Shiroe, the last half of Krusty’s sentence—the one the others probably hadn’t heard—had been the important part.

  Krusty had whispered it with determination, in a voice that might have been called gentle:

  “And besides, isn’t it true in either world that if there’s no meaning to be found in it, life is more terrible than death?”

  His words lodged themselves in Shiroe’s heart.

  1

  Hurried preparations had been made.

  Marielle of the Crescent Moon League was the only Round Table Council member on location at the abandoned school on the Zantleaf Peninsula, and her decision had been a pessimistic one:

  All participants would move to the village of Choushi.

  The band of Adventurers had no incentive to protect the People of the Earth’s village. That said, abandoning the place in such a dangerous position would have left a bad aftertaste.

  At the very least, they should warn Choushi. This was a provisional move based on that decision.

  However, one group was moving in a way that had nothing to do with that intent: the five members of Touya’s group.

  The group had gotten their traveling equipment together promptly and had been the first of all the summer camp participants to set off for the town. At present, the roads seemed safe, but they couldn’t be careless. Touya and the others were advancing through the dark countryside in a patrol file, spaced slightly farther apart than they had been in the dungeon.

  The magic light Rundelhaus had summoned lit the area around them more brightly than a torch, but even so, in this primitive other world, the nights were black indeed.

  “What about that one?”

  Every time Touya spotted a hut beside the great river, he called out. As they went, they checked every single fisherman’s hut. Depending on their location, the group sometimes shouted loudly, and if necessary, Isuzu conducted solo reconnaissance.

  This was because, if People of the Earth were hiding in the huts for any reason, they’d lose their lives easily in a sahuagin or goblin attack. They needed to spend tonight in the village, Touya and the others had thought, and so they were performing this check voluntarily, without having been told.

  “Hellooooo! Is anybody there?” Touya called toward a hut.

  When he turned back to Isuzu, she silently shook her head. Apparently she didn’t sense anyone. In that case, this one was probably okay. Touya and the others set off again, making for Choushi.

  “It looks like everyone’s evacuated.”

  “Uh-huh,” Minori said, responding to Isuzu.

  With their voices in his ears, Touya kept a vigilant eye on the area.

  This farm road was fairly close to the coastline, and there were no goblins in sight. However, this close to the ocean, there was no telling when sahuagins might appear from its drenched darkness.

  The group moved through the darkness, each keeping an eye on a different direction.

  Having seen the countless torches on the mountainside, Touya had steeled himself, realizing that this had turned into something beyond belief. They might get pulled into combat. Awash in sunset light, Nyanta, Naotsugu, Marielle, and the others had been talking in low voices. He hadn’t sensed much fear from their shapes, but he had picked up a strong tension.

  As he had been gazing, arms folded, at the distant hills swarming with goblins, his sister Minori had come up to him.

  Touya had been startled.

  What’s the matter with Minori?

  He couldn’t remember ever seeing her like this: face pale, lips drawn. Minori had glanced around hesitantly, but even so, when she spoke to Touya, her voice was not.

  “Let’s get ready to leave. I think we need to go to the village of Choushi,” she had said. “I…have to talk to Nyanta one more time, so you go persuade everyone, Touya.”

  After Minori had told him this, she’d turned her back on him.

  As if awed by his sister’s words, Touya had gone to invite their companions. They would leave for Choushi first, ahead of the summer camp group. …Though that was a little risky, when he thought about it—as the vanguard, they were more likely to run into monsters.

  Touya had thought that one or more of his friends might be reluctant, but unexpectedly, persuading them took almost no work. Only Serara seemed hesitant, and she had assented easily when Isuzu asked her to.

  Yes, that had been unexpected, too: Isuzu had been terribly eager.

  Touya focused, taking in the situation so calmly he had surprised even himself. Minori’s earnest entreaty had mattered, but he also felt an instinctive aversion to the idea of leaving townspeople with no combat abilities on their own, even if they were just People of the Earth.

  Without us there, the goblins will probably take that town out in no time flat…

  Minori had told him in detail about the village chief, and how people lived. In Touya’s mind, Choushi was a town of fishermen, a peaceful, expansive place. Choushi, which was located at the mouth of the Great Zantleaf River, wasn’t a fortified city. It had no lord, and although it probably had a vigilance committee, it didn’t have knights or other forces to defend it. It was a fishing and farming town that came under the influence of both the city of Maihama and the town of Tsukuba, and up until now, it had managed to stay relatively peaceful.

  Unusually for the Peninsula, the surrounding area was flatland. What would normally be a hilly area had been carved away by the Great Zantleaf River, creating a fertile, smoothly sloping plain.

  The areas closer to Choushi were cultivated and had been turned into fields that seemed to be marked off in squares, like a tile mosaic. It was a lush, beautiful sight: wheat and field mustard, and a handful of rice fields.

  It was submerged in night’s darkness now, but the land of Zantleaf, blown by summer sea winds, was a truly splendid place.

  And now, a long procession of summer camp members stretched down the farm road that led from the abandoned school to Choushi. They were split into teams by level, or into guilds, or into groups of close friends.

  Although they were traveling after sunset, even if they were newbies, they were Adventurers. Each had created a magic light, and they walked without any sign of fatigue. Some were on horseback, but since this was dangerous when you couldn’t see your feet, let alone the path, most walked.

  Minori’s group was moving ahead of the very tip of that long line.

  They’d walked for about thirty minutes when Minori abruptly began to speak:

  “…Hey guys. I think we should protect that town.”

  Touya knew Minori’s feelings.

  He also wanted to protect the town, and he thought that they should.

  However, there was no reason to do so.

  That town was a People of the Earth settlement. It hadn’t anything to do with Minori, Touya, or the others. They hadn’t accepted a defense quest. Even if they saved the town, they wouldn’t receive any items or cash rewards.

  It wasn’t even a player town. Were they close with people who lived there? No; it was only people they’d encountered for the first time once they’d arrived for the training camp.

  It was strange to feel such an urgent sense of duty without a reason for reward. Still, the feeling was definitely there, as though a great rock were being rolled around in Touya’s chest.

  Since he couldn’t think of a reason, he couldn’t express it well. That was all.

  It was possible that the other members felt the same way. Isuzu, Rundelhaus, and Serara were all silent, lost in thought as they walked.

  There was a black, murky irritation inside them. There was no way for them to shake the impossible feeling of being trapped. They resented their own pow
erlessness, and no matter how they struggled to escape it, their arms and legs made no progress. It was like being in a nightmare. Touya and the others seemed engulfed by this feeling of helplessness.

  “Well, you see…um. There isn’t any reason we have to save them. But, I mean…” Minori also seemed to be having trouble finding the right words.

  When he looked up, beyond the foothills of the mountain, up in its forests, the torch flames that seemed to be lit on the tips of needles flickered and blazed, like malice in the darkness.

  “I don’t think…we can stop. It’s scary, but even so.” Isuzu’s voice was forlorn, but it held determination.

  Although their levels differed, two-thirds of the players in the summer camp expedition were beginners. Some were between level 20 and 30, like Touya’s group, but others were even lower than that. In order to fight goblins, a player needed to be level 20 at least.

  On top of that, they didn’t know what the enemy’s numbers were.

  Nyanta had called it a midsized plunder unit, and Naotsugu had counted and said there were two hundred of them at most, but it was night, and it was hard to know how far those statements could be relied on.

  There were lots of reasons to go on without saving them.

  There was no reason to save them.

  …But they wanted to.

  As Touya and the others walked along in silence, the sound of the surf approached them, over and over. The sea might have been painted pitch-black; only the cresting waves that broke on the beach gleamed white, reflecting the moonlight.

  As Touya drifted in the sound of the waves and the light of the moon, a thought abruptly occurred to him, a realization too modest to be called insight.

  “Do we need a reason?”

  “Huh?”

  The blank question had come from Serara.

  “Can’t we just save them, without a reason?”

  An odd, rather dumbfounded silence followed Touya’s words.

  “I think it’s fine if we save them for no reason. I mean, we’re Adventurers, right? Adventurers are called that ’cos they adventure. If we want to save them, I dunno why we can’t do it without a reason.”