by Akira Kareno
“That’s… But…”
Chtholly threw a brief glance at Willem out of the corner of her eye.
It was clear what Limeskin was after. There was no need to ask Willem himself directly. If he forced an important job onto one of the faerie soldiers, then Willem would shoulder that responsibility in her place without a word. That was what he had discerned.
And though Willem loathed to admit it, the lizardfolk man was right on the money.
“…That’s a low tactic. Where’d your warrior’s pride go?”
“A warrior sshould alssso be honessst in victory.”
That, too, was a rather loose interpretation of a warrior.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a conversation with you. Did I do something to make you hate me?”
“You have only given me interessst in you.”
“Erm, I would prefer this conversation to stay between my uncle and—”
The girl quietly tried to interject, but he interrupted her with a wave of his hand.
“No need for worry. While I do not yet know if thiss man can be depended on or trusssted, he will do the job.”
“That’s not a compliment.”
“That wass not my intention.”
Limeskin nodded slightly and began to walk off.
“I have left the ressst to you, Chtholly. Follow the ssignss of the wind with thosse who walk alongssside you and complete the misssssion.”
“Uh…huh…”
In a partial daze, the remaining five watched him walk off.
“With those who walk alongside you,” that damned lizard said.
Shut up, he thought. You can’t decide for me where I’ll be walking.
But he didn’t say that. Had he responded like that, then it would be admitting that was his intention in the first place. He felt like they were way beyond the stage of admitting it or not after showing such disgraceful behavior, but there were still lines he would not cross.
“Um…”
A hesitant voice called out to him. Willem stopped her with his hand.
“Sorry, but I have a prior engagement. We’ll walk and talk.”
After the rain, the old city was filled with a different flavor than he’d tasted yesterday.
The brick roads and the puddles glinted vividly, scattering the afternoon sunlight. The statues dotting the city were enveloped in a dim, out-of-focus light, and an air that conveyed an essence of holiness was wrapped around them.
Haaaah… He let out a big, shameless yawn. The clear, cool air filled his lungs and washed away the sleepiness that clung to the corners of his mind.
“There’s a great feel about this town,” Ithea said, stretching. “By the way, you think it’s a good idea for us to just walk around the city like normal? Faeries are banned from wandering freely anywhere beyond Island No. 68, after all.”
“You’re on duty right now. The gracious first officer gave you direct orders.”
“Well, that was just Chtholly. And strictly speaking, we’re weapons, so while we can get direction on the battlefield, we can’t officially accept missions.”
“—Then, for appearances, it might mean you’re under my command. That big lizard’s scenario is probably, ‘The first officer had to leave the site for unavoidable circumstances, so he transferred commanding rights to the second officer, who was on the premises’…or something.”
“Huh. That’s a pretty crafty story.”
“It sure is. And he calls himself a warrior.”
“Well, the second officer read up on his scenario pretty quickly, so I’d say he’s about as good.”
“That’s unexpected. To say such a thing about this purehearted, good-natured young man.”
“Ughhh, you have no shame.”
Ithea cackled.
Willem chuckled, too—albeit a bit desperately.
His left arm was softly enveloped in a gentle warmth. He looked back to see Nephren, straight-faced, wrapped around it.
“Hey, Ren.”
“Hmm.”
“Can I ask you why you’re clinging to me?”
“…Don’t you feel calmer when you’re warmer?”
The expression on his face looked as if to say, “Why are you asking such an obvious question?”
“Right now, you need body heat, Willem. My body temperature is higher than average, so it is most suitable.” She spoke softly and gently, as though reasoning with a particularly dim child.
“I mean, I appreciate you being considerate and all, but…”
Even if he did, he wasn’t so sure about the actions that came from it.
Thanks to Nephren’s lack of curves, he managed to keep any strange thoughts at bay. He was a grown man, after all, and he was thankful for that.
He scratched his cheek with one of his free fingers.
“I’m fine, so let go. I don’t think I can stand the stares we’re getting anymore.”
He could hear the giggles of the semifer passing them on the street. They probably saw the two featureless, Willem and Nephren, as close family members.
“…”
Nephren stared hard at Willem.
“You’re still putting on a brave front a little. Not yet.”
“It’s this situation that’s going to make me cry.” His shoulders drooped. He was serious. “C’mon, Chtholly. Say something—”
He craned his head back.
Chtholly, who had been slowly trudging along, lifted her downward-cast gaze. She opened her mouth slightly. She searched for words but couldn’t find them. Her face suddenly turned red, and she quickly looked away.
“A maiden’s heart is a complicated thing,” Ithea said, her voice troubled.
He almost blurted out, “Maidens’ hearts don’t have a monopoly on being complicated!” But in the end, he held his tongue. He couldn’t tell if it was something he’d be made fun of if he said it out loud. And incidentally, it would be quite a while yet before Nephren, who seemed to be worried about him, would let go of his arm.
—Their sudden meeting after so long, along with his disgraceful behavior, had blown away so many other things. That was why he still hadn’t said a single word of welcome to the girls, and he hadn’t heard them announce their return.
Of course, it didn’t feel like now was the time for that conversation.
(…Ooohhhh…)
It wasn’t that he wanted a dramatic reunion scene.
He wasn’t trying to say that he wasn’t satisfied that he hadn’t been able to greet the three in style.
He should just be pleased to confirm that they’d come back safely, and in reality, he wasn’t unhappy with the result.
So, well…
He had to at least accept he would have a few uncomfortable thoughts.
He knew that. He knew.
“Does it really look like I’m trying that hard?” he murmured, and Nephren’s eyes wavered slightly.
“You really are alike,” Ithea said suggestively and gave a small smile.
Her expressions seemed strangely forced today.
He looked at her smile—and for some reason, that was what he felt.
On the way, the semifer girl told them the story.
She called herself Phyracorlybia Dorio.
“Huh? Dorio? That means…”
“Yes. My father is Collina di Luce’s current mayor.”
She responded easily to Ithea’s question.
Either due to her parents’ upbringing or her natural disposition, her temperament was incredibly hard to read.
There was no way she was calm on the inside, after being rejected by the uncle she wanted to rely on and pushed onto a freakish group of people she didn’t know. And yet, she gave no indication of bewilderment or irritation.
“Oh, I thought so.”
The story was, the mayor of this town was originally a so-called upstart merchant who rose in the world in his lifetime, and Phyr (who herself asked to be called that, since her name was so long) was his daughter, who
was born after he reached old age.
The city originally laid out the foundations for an aristocracy. It was only ten years prior that the mayoral system had been introduced. Because of that, there were quite a number of people who were not pleased with the current political system, with former nobles in the heart of it all. To them, having an upstart merchant as a mayor was an enemy of unforgivable appearance.
“Huh.” He just brushed aside the explanation with a vague response.
“Then what was the letter you talked about earlier?”
Chtholly moved the conversation forward.
He thought she was being very earnest for someone who’d been named to take care of the whole situation.
“…It is a threat from one group to remove my father from his position and place a relative of the old nobility in the seat of mayor. They will do whatever it takes to oust him, as the one who is tarnishing the city’s traditions and history.”
“Ohh.”
Another vague response.
It was a story he’d heard somewhere before—actually, the very one he’d heard just yesterday from that doctor. Judging by those gunshots that didn’t suit such a quiet town, “whatever it takes” had a very broad range of meaning.
“At the end of next week, we will hold a ceremony to commemorate finishing construction on the Central Cathedral. My father is planning on speaking about the future this town should be heading toward there. A future that will open the doors to those of every race and will make this city into one of trade that will act as the bridge between islands. Most likely, they will use the Annihilation Knights, their agents, to attack. Then they may prepare to warn all of those who work with my father.”
“…That sounds like the name of knights who get carried away by their youth and regret it five years later.”
Oh, so Ithea thinks so, too. They were on the same page.
“It goes without saying that we plan to employ the minimum amount of security. However, considering the methods of the Annihilation Knights, I cannot imagine that would be enough. That is why I wished to ask for my uncle’s—for First Officer Limeskin’s help.”
“What do you think?” he turned to his left arm and asked.
“No,” Nephren responded bluntly. “In the end, the Winged Guard is an organization meant to fight against invaders from outside Regule Aire. They cannot meddle in the political affairs of every individual city. In the case that there is clearly an individual or a group that is trying to disrupt the peace, nearby Winged Guard soldiers are allowed to act in quelling it; however, that is ultimately for times of exceptional danger. Even if they know beforehand that there will be trouble, they cannot dispatch units ahead of time. That will be seen as interfering with political affairs.”
“—What she said. The mayor probably knew that, so he likely didn’t try to ask for help from that lizard himself.”
“It can’t be… Justice is clearly on our side! Why must restrictions be imposed on defeating the evil that harms the worlds of others?”
“Justice doesn’t make it okay to use military force,” he spat out abruptly. “It’s the opposite. Justice is what’s touted to justify the reasons for using military force. There will always be other reasons for wanting to pummel the enemy. Always. Because you want to take them away. Because you look down on them. Because you scorn them. Because you don’t like them. Because you want them to disappear. Because you want to relieve stress. Or any combination of that.” He waved his hand lightly, and like reciting an ancient poem, he spoke. “But no one wants to recognize any of that. At that point, you may as well beat the crap out of the other guy with no guilty conscience whatsoever. It’s times like those people raise a flag under the name of justice to trick their enemies—and themselves. No one is aware of these things when they do that, so you get two people who wholly believe in their own justice fighting each other, and war starts. That’s how it’s always been.”
“That’s…”
Phyr fell silent.
—What? Willem thought.
The value of justice was determined by the persuasiveness to involve others and the strength of the belief of how deeply one could surrender oneself to it. It was meaningful enough if it was justice she could strongly believe in from the bottom of her heart. But she just could not mobilize the Winged Guard under that justice.
However, the justice Phyr touted wavered when people she’d just met today told her that, so he was a little disappointed.
“Well, you know. Even putting all that aside, the ceremony is next week, so we can’t really keep you company. We have our own deal. Now we’re going to the doctor’s to pick up one of the kids, then in the evening, we’ll get on an airship and fly home.”
“Oh… I see.” Phyr drooped her head.
“Wait up, wait up, just a second, Officer. I have two questions.” Ithea tugged on his right sleeve.
“What?”
“What you said earlier, is that all right for the Brave who fought as the guardian of the great emnetwiht? Weren’t you the face of justice at the time?”
“You think justice means shit in the struggle to survive? You space out for a second and you get wiped out, so I was just fighting back for my life. The will to survive is only an instinct, and when you start considering instinct and justice to be the same thing, then nothing in the world can ever be a crime.”
“…I see. Regardless of the logic, I think I understand how you think, Officer.” Ithea nodded slightly.
Nephren, who was still clinging to Willem’s left arm, gripped slightly tighter.
“Another question. Why did you ask all that about the situation, only to be so rude to Miss Phyracorlybia? I feel like you’ve said gross things all cool-like, as if you can’t leave a cute girl in distress alone.”
“Don’t call it gross.”
Precisely because he wasn’t completely unaware of that, it still hurt.
“I get it. Is it age? Women your age and older aren’t women anymore or something?”
“Why does everything I do have to be so biased?” People had suspected him of that many times in the past, but it wasn’t true. It shouldn’t be. “That’s not it. I just—”
“Just?”
Just—what?
Something he found hard to put into words coiled around the back of his throat.
“—Whoever it happens to be, I only want to be convinced of unconvincing things.”
“Buh?”
Even he thought he’d said something he didn’t quite understand. Sure enough, Ithea raised an eyebrow, making a strange face that was unbecoming of a girl her age.
“…”
For some reason, Nephren nodded slightly.
“Well, putting that aside, looks like we still have time until we need to go to the clinic.”
It was hard to decide what to do with such an odd amount of time left. They didn’t have enough time to take a preliminary look around the sights, and yet it would be a waste to spend it walking aimlessly.
—A delicious smell tickled his nose.
Willem turned his head as though he’d been jerked on a leash. He found a food stand set up on the back of a cart by the roadside. They were selling fried mutton and shredded potatoes wrapped in plentiful large, leafy vegetables. The titillating aroma of spices irresistibly aroused his appetite.
His stomach growled.
“Hey.”
He turned around.
“Let’s eat that. I haven’t had breakfast yet.”
“Ohhh, we should. All we’ve been eating is simple military provisions, so I’ll welcome anything with strong flavor,” Ithea murmured dully in agreement. Nephren didn’t say anything, so she probably wasn’t against it. And just as Chtholly was about to say something—
“—Please wait.”
There came a weak yet sharp voice.
For a moment, he truly didn’t know who was talking. He slowly turned around, feeling something cold down his spine. There, somewhat unexpectedly but also
naturally, was the figure of someone he didn’t expect.
Phyracorlybia Dorio.
Though he was looking straight at her, his instinct doubted if that was really her. The presence around her was completely different from what it was a few moments ago. He just could not believe it was the same person.
“The spices are clearly much too strong, and their certificate of authorization is not posted on the front. That is, without a doubt, a shop that is feeding people shoddy meat that is barely legal.”
“O-oh.”
Her tone was unusually strong.
Willem unwittingly recoiled, overwhelmed.
“And it is more expensive than market price. Even locals clearly know it looks off; tourists buy and eat it without knowing and presume it to be normal. If these practices continue, it is clear that the city itself will lose trust. No matter how much my father sues them, those hooligans refuse to disappear.”
There was a dangerous light glinting in her eye.
Her body wavered like a specter.
“Come this way,” she said while starting to walk off.
“H-hey!”
“Were you to eat there, then that shoddy taste will become your memory of dining in Collina di Luce. As long as I am with you, I cannot allow such a thing. It would be tantamount to shaming my uncle. Come with me. You will see real Collina di Luce–style wrapped lamb.”
She took brisk, wide steps and turned onto a back street.
“…I’m surprised,” Nephren murmured in a voice contradicting that very statement. “She left. What do we do?”
“No matter what, it doesn’t really feel like we have a choice, does it?”
“We woke the sleeping dog, so I guess we gotta tag along… Chtholly?”
The girl practically jumped when she looked up from her feet at her name suddenly being called.
“Uh… Wh-what?”
“Are you doing okay? You’ve been silent as a statue this entire time—”
“That is pretty quiet,” Ithea interrupted.
“If you’re still tired, then you should say something. I don’t feel like pushing you in a place that’s not a battlefield.”
“No, that’s not it…” She shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry I worried you.”
