WorldEnd: What Do You Do at the End of the World? Are You Busy? Will You Save Us?, Vol. 2

by Akira Kareno

“Hmm. Let me ask you another question.”

  The skull’s voice came from beside him.

  It skillfully rolled from the throne and fell into the cushioned cart. Without a word, the maid waiting by its side pushed the cart, bringing it to Willem.

  “This is what you said when I was provoking you earlier: You have no reason to fight. And even if you did, why has the great being that was Ebon Candle, who could pierce the heavens, fallen into such an unassuming form, though being as charming and dignified as he is?”

  Willem had no recollection of saying any of that. At least, that last part.

  “You so cleverly changed the subject, but it does not seem entirely fair that only I tell you the truth, no? Even if you had a reason to fight, is there any other reason why you cannot?”

  “What?”

  The Great Sage raised his eyebrows slightly.

  “Sure.” Willem nodded generously. “I sure don’t have it as bad as a skull, I know, but my body has barely recovered from the battle with this guy. The petrification is gone and so are the enchantments, but there are tiny wounds left all over my body, leaving me little more than a worn and tattered rag. A troll I know said to me, ‘I wouldn’t even have to pull out a knife to pick off your meat; it’s so full of tears that I could just rip into it with my teeth alone.’”

  “I see. So now, that is to say, you do not have the fighting power as you once did. Even if you did wish to fight, you cannot. So—for example, if we were to forcefully subdue you right now, you would have no way to fight back. Is that correct?”

  “Oh, I get it now.”

  Willem scratched his head.

  “Honestly, I wish you wouldn’t. I know this sounds cliché, but I’ve got people waiting for me at home.”

  “Your life is precious to you, is it?”

  “Nah. I just have no way of getting home after beating you to a pulp.”

  He shrugged.

  “I don’t know how to fly an airship, do I?”

  “…That doesn’t seem like sound logic. How nostalgic; you haven’t changed a bit since then, have you?” With a somehow delighted tone, the skull rolled to face the Great Sage. “Great Sage. Give up for now. This man holds steady. Rather…he seems like stubbornness incarnate. He holds only one purpose within him. He sees no value in anything that has nothing to do with that goal. So he will not bend. He will not stop. He will persist.

  “Once he has decided he will protect those faeries, that becomes his entire world. He will protect them, even if it means sacrificing anything and everything else. I do not wish to be struck again by those incorporeal incantations.”

  Nah, I wouldn’t do that.

  Incantations weren’t that easy to wield. Most of the ones Willem used back then no longer had their activation conditions fulfilled. It wasn’t that he didn’t have any he couldn’t use anymore, but if he did use them, the price he’d pay would be his life or, if he was supremely lucky, then become stone again, which might be his end anyway. Either way, he couldn’t go home to the faerie warehouse.

  …And he wouldn’t bother kindly explaining all that. It sounded like he was being overestimated, and he felt like it would be best to let Ebon Candle keep believing that.

  “But—”

  “If you wish to say something, then you must tell him everything. The man’s attitude may change if you expose one or two secrets of the surface that you’ve kept hidden.”

  “That’s—!”

  The Great Sage raised his voice, his expression flustered.

  “…Secrets of the surface?”

  On the other hand, Willem furrowed his brow, sinking his teeth into a phrase he couldn’t let go.

  “What is it? What are you hiding?”

  “…It has nothing to do with you.”

  “You’re such a liar. From the way he’s talking, sounds like it’s important enough to change my mind. And?”

  “I shall say nothing.”

  “Okay. Well, Great Sage?”

  “I shall say nothing as well. This is about the future of this world. It’s something I can only tell to those who are concerned for the future.”

  You bastard, this is some first-class revenge for earlier, huh? Now aggravated, Willem was about to argue back, but—

  There was the sound of footsteps coming up the spiral staircase.

  “Lot of guests today, I see.”

  Ebon Candle murmured, irritated, and everyone turned their gazes toward the door. What appeared there was—

  “Pardon me.”

  —the rabbitfolk first officer.

  “This is a sanctuary. I told you never to come here without good reason!”

  The Great Sage reprimanded him, his voice low and thunderous. The rabbitfolk nodded slightly and bowed. “I came prepared to be scolded, but something happened that requires an urgent report.”

  “—What is it?”

  Unlike his previous tone, the Great Sage urged him on in a calm voice.

  The rabbitfolk’s gaze darted toward Willem for a brief moment before he leaned in to the Sage’s ear, relaying some sort of information.

  “…And you made the judgment that this required urgent passage into the sanctuary to report?”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded earnestly at the Great Sage’s odd question.

  “Very well. I shall tell this man myself.”

  He slowly shook his head and took one step toward Willem.

  “…What now? Does this have to do with me?”

  “Indeed it does, Second Enchantments Officer Willem Kmetsch,” the Great Sage announced with solemnity. “There has been contact from a partner of the Orlandry Merchants Alliance. The user compatible with dug weapon Seniorious has begun to lose personality due to past-life encroachment. While physical dissipation has not yet begun, it is only a matter of time.”

  The pale-faced Willem left the sanctuary on the officer’s ship.

  The remaining two watched the sea of clouds he vanished into, a heavy silence over them.

  “Why did you not tell him everything?”

  Ebon Candle asked, breaking the silence.

  “If he knew what was on the surface, what remains on the surface, then his response may have been different.”

  “Probably.”

  The Great Sage replied, his face looking as though he had swallowed something bitter.

  “But as a result, it would most certainly shatter his spirit. Such a fellow who can keep fighting on a singular conviction can do nothing when his heart is broken. While a rusted halberd can still be used, a destroyed spearhead cannot.”

  “Success depends on how you convey it. Are you not skilled at controlling people by manipulating information?”

  “Sure. He is a simple man, and I could easily control him now, but…” He shrugged lightly. “Go ahead, laugh. It’s nothing but personal sentiment. I once secretly looked up to him as an older brother, and it seems I do not wish to lie to him.”

  “Such consideration is all well and good, as long as it does not go to waste.”

  Despite the lack of lungs, Ebon Candle gave something that sounded like a sigh.

  “A faerie broken once never returns. If that man is unlucky, then he will soon crumble.”

  5. What Happened to the Promise

  He had no recollection of how he managed to get home.

  That military police ship should have taken him back to Island No. 68 from Island No. 2. Barring course adjustments for replenishment stops and avoiding dragon stones, they should have taken the shortest route in the shortest time.

  And yet, no matter how he hurried, as a matter of course—

  —Willem didn’t make it.

  A girl with cerulean hair lay on the bed.

  She looked as if she was sleeping peacefully, as though she would open her eyes and begin moving at any moment.

  But she didn’t.

  The girl would never wake again.

  “She kept her promise.” Ithea stood in the doorway, informin
g him in a quiet voice. “She came home alive. She came home with a sliver of life left after leaving a battlefield she should not have survived, thinking only of the hope that she would see you again—lean on you again.”

  “Ithea.” Nephren, standing beside her, shook her head quietly. “Don’t blame Willem. We were the ones who didn’t tell him about Chtholly.”

  “True. I’m not planning on blaming him for that. But—”

  “…Right. You should blame me for not keeping my promise,” Willem murmured. “She did what I asked her to. But I couldn’t even greet her properly. That’s what this is about.”

  Death was perpetually a part of daily routine for a faerie soldier.

  They were aware of how little value their lives had. And so once they lost a companion of theirs, they were not terribly sad about it. They did not wear their hearts out by doing such things. And so, their capabilities as weapons did not suffer.

  “Um, um, guys, do you know where Nygglatho went?”

  Lakhesh entered the playroom, looking around every which way.

  “No. Do you need her?”

  Collon asked in turn, practicing her attacks on the joints of a blue stuffed animal.

  “Yeah. I wanted to ask her what to do about shopping on the weekend. It’s almost blizzard season, and I think we probably need to do some stocking up.”

  “Yeah, we can’t fight on an empty stomach!”

  “…Nygglatho should be in the mountains,” Pannibal answered, kicking a white ball against the wall on the carpet. “That’s where she always goes when someone doesn’t come home. This is probably the same.”

  “Oh…okay.”

  Lakhesh understood.

  “Are you going to look for her?”

  After a moment of thinking, she shook her head. “No. If she’s gone, then that means she can’t show her face to us, right? If I go all the way to see her, she would probably eat me.”

  “Likely.” Collon nodded gravely.

  “A valid judgment.” Pannibal agreed honestly.

  “…Tiat?” Lakhesh called the name of the last of them, who wasn’t participating in the conversation.

  “Huh? What? Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

  Tiat had thrown herself onto the carpet and lay there, staring at the ceiling. She hurriedly sat herself up.

  “What’s wrong, Tiat? You’ve been distracted lately.”

  “Er—” Tiat was aware of that. So when she searched for a response, her words briefly caught. “…I dunno. My head feels empty.”

  “Because Miss Chtholly’s broken?”

  When she heard that, something in Tiat’s chest stung. But she didn’t know exactly why that happened, so she brushed it off as her imagination.

  “Maybe. I dunno.”

  She tilted her head, misjudging Lakhesh’s question.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, time passed.

  One day went. Another day. And another day.

  Time flowed like a river eroding away stone.

  No matter how much he concentrated, the magic inside Chtholly was doing nothing but flowing calmly, and he found no abnormalities.

  Enduring the headache that came with using Sight, Willem took Chtholly’s hand. It was pale, small, cold. He gently massaged several points by her knuckles on her palm.

  “—Long ago, there was a guy who lost consciousness from sudden-onset venenum poisoning, and he never woke up. This technique brought him back. It’s very non-stimulating, and slowly, confidently, you use it to fix the flow starting from the body’s extremities—”

  He knew it would do nothing.

  Unlike that time long ago when his companion barely made it out with his life, there were no abnormalities in the venenum in Chtholly’s body. That meant there was nothing to heal. This wasn’t the cause of her disorder.

  No matter how many external tricks he tried, not a single one set things on a good course.

  But he couldn’t do nothing. There might be some sort of tiny effect somewhere. He clung to that hope, so faint he couldn’t call it a possibility. He had to do something to keep himself occupied from how he could do nothing.

  He never welcomed her home.

  He never heard her say she had come back home.

  That amassed regret made him cling to the illusion that there was a way for him to make amends now.

  “Willem.”

  He heard a voice from behind him and turned around.

  “Hey… Haven’t seen you in a while, Nygglatho.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry—I was away for a bit. My heart breaks whenever someone dies here. I always feel like I’m strange for being sad, yet I don’t want to feel that way, and my head just goes in circles. So I went into the wilderness and took it out on some trees and some bears.”

  He felt bad for the trees and bears.

  “How strange this is. Once this happens, I lose my appetite. Even though there’s such a soft and delicious-looking piece of meat before me—”

  “I don’t think you’re allowed to be a troll anymore.”

  “I know. Do you think I could change into something different now?” The troll in her apron dress smiled weakly. “I’m tired of crying, yelling, and being angry on my own.” Nygglatho’s profile was, just as she said herself, colored with the deep hue of exhaustion. “How terrible this all is. I’m a bit happy right now. That you’re crying for her. It makes me feel like I’m not alone.”

  “That really is terrible, but I feel the same.”

  When Nygglatho appeared here, he felt a little like he’d been saved. He would admit that.

  “—I do have something I need to talk to you about. I want to change rooms, so will you come with me?”

  “We can’t talk here?”

  “I don’t think I could. And I think it would be hard for you, too.”

  Oh, he got it. That was the kind of talk she wanted to have.

  “Can I run away?”

  “I won’t stop you if you did.”

  Ah, damn it. He couldn’t run anymore once she said that.

  Nygglatho’s room was dark.

  Only now did Willem finally notice several things: that it was night somehow. And that it was apparently raining outside.

  “I’m sorry—this is the only lamp I have with oil left in it.”

  She placed a small oil lamp for reading onto the table.

  The dim light lit the room with a faint glow.

  “Would you like something alcoholic to drink?”

  “That’s new. You never offer anything but tea in this room.”

  “I have no fire, so we have no choice. And…”

  It would be easier to talk drunk. Words weren’t necessary to finish that sentence.

  Willem blew the awkward atmosphere away with a single sigh, and he asked, “—What do you want to talk about?”

  “Right.” Nygglatho paused slightly in hesitation. “It’s about the test to see which sword would be compatible for Tiat.”

  “Oh…” He nodded vaguely. “Seniorious?”

  “You know it well.”

  “It makes a big difference in combat power depending on whether the user is ready to use the sword or not. Thinking normally, once the first person’s broken down, it starts looking for the second… I’m not thinking normally… I can’t believe I said that without a second thought. I’m gonna barf.”

  “I’ll rub your back if you throw up. Because I empathize with you. But don’t forget that you have to think about getting used to this. This isn’t the first time this has happened, and it won’t be the last.”

  “And every time it happens, you interrupt the bears while they’re busy hibernating?”

  “How rude. I at least bring home the parts I’ve won to turn them into a stew.”

  She wasn’t arguing with him at all, but that sounded important to her.

  “Well—I understand the logic behind the combat power and stuff, but Seniorious is a completely perverted blade. I don’t think it’ll sync up with the next person just
because it’s convenient for us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s the oldest of all holy blades. It completely outclasses all the other swords. And its class translates directly to how selfish it is when it chooses a user. Seniorious is very picky about who wields it.”

  “Can you do something about it with your strength?”

  “Of course not. If I could, I’d use it myself.” Willem smiled bitterly, recalling an event in the past. “When I first saw Seniorious, my master was using it. I don’t really remember very much about the fight then. Actually, I don’t think I saw much of it at all. That’s how strong my master and Seniorious were—”

  Slowly, he began to tell his tale.

  In that dim, dark room.

  So that they would be able to accept the girl’s death.

  So that they would be able to take the next step.

  So that they would be able to survive their new life without Chtholly.

  A Distant Dream, and Then…

  -eternal dreamer-

  By the time she realized it, the girl stood in a dark ruin.

  Before her lay the dead body of a small child, a large open wound in her chest. The red blood that flowed out of it dyed the child’s body a deep, murky red.

  As she gazed down at it blankly, the child’s outline suddenly blurred, and like tossing off old clothes, a half-transparent child herself stood there. The body still lay there, but the partially clear form of the child stood before her, looking at her.

  Oh.

  The child reached out.

  Take it, I guess she means, the girl thought and gripped the child’s hand with both of hers.

  The child smiled.

  The girl, too, smiled in turn.

  They ran about, the child pulling the girl along.

  The ruins were rather big, and it didn’t seem like something that could be thoroughly explored with just a quick look around. Every time they turned a corner, every time they stepped over a broken door, there was something new lying there on the floor. There were stuffed animals in odd shapes, tattered and unreadable picture books, masses of crystal that she wasn’t quite sure how to use but were probably recording crystals.