“Lucifer, can you shut up a sec? Rumack’s glaring at me.”
“Ow!”
Albert, much larger than the twiggy fallen angel, gave Urushihara a sharp elbow.
Here at this meeting, Rumack was the only person who actively saw Urushihara as a foe. Albert had only joined Emi’s quest after she had defeated Lucifer, but having him and Rumack—villain and victim—face-to-face made for a very delicate situation.
“Anyway,” Albert continued, “the problem is that Phiyenci, along with all the clans in the Northern Island, have accepted Adramelech’s occupation as part of their shared history. I’m from there, and since I helped Emilia beat ’im, that spear he left kinda symbolizes a turning point in that history, y’see? Defeat, followed by victory.”
“So you’re sayin’ they need it? That sucks. It’s kind of ours, dude.”
“Shut up, Lucifer.”
“Are you saying,” Suzuno ventured, “that you would not intervene with them for us, Albert? You don’t think they would give up the Spear?”
“It ain’t gonna happen,” came the point-blank reply from Albert. “Never in a million years. That’s why I got you all together here, ain’t it? Anything I’d try is gonna cause drama. If we really mess this up, we might wind up prodding the Southern Island, too.”
“…True,” Suzuno groaned.
Maou and Emi might have only been in this for Alas Ramus, but Rumack and the knights under her command had a clearer, more present reason—to defeat Ignora and avoid the potential destruction of Ente Isla’s humanity in the nearish future. But doing this involved finding the Noah Gears and launching Devil’s Castle into space, and the humans and the demons had to team up to achieve that. That was only possible thanks to Maou’s deep links to Rumack and Emeralda from the holy empire of Saint Aile, as well as Ashiya’s extremely personal relationship with Hu Shun-Ien, the Azure Emperor of Efzahan. Most other nations weren’t even aware of this operation, and for that matter, it had never been formally announced to the world that the Hero Emilia and the Devil King were even alive.
If this effort got out to the public, whatever the truth was behind it, everyone knew people would hear it as Saint Aile’s Hazel Rumack and the Azure Emperor forged a secret pact with the demons and run with that. It’d sow the seeds of suspicion all over the North and the South, as well as the smaller kingdoms in the West.
No one in this group had ever suggested that they should elicit support from other nations—this being a quest to save humanity, after all. The state of the Sephirah and Tree of Sephirot was something you really had to be close to Maou and Emi to fully grasp. In areas where Church influence was still weak, it’d take decades to even persuade people that Sephirot was connected to the holy force that ran the world. There was no way to convince everyone that teaming up with demons was the only thing to do, and no nation was about to sign off on a mission as daunting as “slaying a god.”
Without any real, visible danger like the Devil King’s Army coming their way, there wasn’t going to be any teamwork—the power struggles taking place within the Federated Order that was formed to rebuild the Central Continent made that clear enough. And these power struggles were laying themselves out like capillaries, along the lines of every political and economic issue facing every nation in the post-Devil King world, making the players ever greedier as they laid their cards down.
That was why Rumack, Emeralda, and the Azure Emperor decided to hurry things along themselves instead. That would make everything go far, far smoother, and keeping it confidential would also put a lid on most of the ensuing power games. It meant a large, heavy burden for Saint Aile and Efzahan, but this burden was also an advantage—the ability to tackle this potential threat ahead of anyone else, a chance that far outclassed the potential losses that prodding the heavens and Sephirot might lead to. Saint Aile and Efzahan definitely had other motivations as well, but there was no doubting that this alliance was the smoothest way to handle this heavenly war.
And now, there was a thorny problem—or rather, a pointy one. Having the Spear of Adramelechinus inside Phiyenci, the shared capital of the Northern Island, presented numerous difficulties. It was physically and politically impossible to take the Spear without the common people knowing.
“Even if we negotiated with them,” Suzuno mused, “the question becomes who we would send. We would need Albert to bear the full brunt of responsibility, but he could hardly handle it by himself.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing. Lemme make this clear: All right, my name’s a bit known around there as a heroic companion, ’n’ all that. But once I set foot back home, I’m my momma’s boy all over again, you know what I mean? I ain’t really got the clout to pull a bunch of clan chiefs my way. And this is Adramelech’s final relic! We’d have to get the chief herder involved, and by that point, there’s not much even Eme could do. In terms of overall balance, I’d say people like Rumack or Emilia are our best bets to contact them with.”
A chief herder didn’t have the absolute authority to (for example) give direct orders to all clans on the continent, but the leader’s words truly did have force behind them. Everyone knew the extent of the powers they wielded; they wouldn’t recommend someone apt to abuse them. Besides, however things worked inside the Island, if an outside visitor wanted to see the chief herder, they would still need an ambassador-level title if they expected an audience this lifetime.
“In that case,” Urushihara said, “let’s break out Emilia. If we explain things to her, I doubt she’s gonna say no.”
“No,” Rumack flatly replied. “If you’re considering her, go with me instead. This way will take longer, but it’ll save us trouble later. With Emilia, things would get too big, too fast. Depending on how the chief herder responds, it could turn into a fight for control of her, like in Efzahan. With me, if anything happens, Saint Aile can step up to put it out.”
“Hold on,” protested Albert. “If you’re not on the scene here, it’s gonna be hard to balance out the human side. Even if it’s me, Eme, and Bell, we can’t deal with Efzahan and the emperor leading them that well.”
Suzuno sighed. “No matter what we do, we keep running into these stupid power struggles…”
The literal end of the world didn’t mean political and monetary issues simply disappeared. Very little of Saint Aile’s government—not even the imperial court itself—knew about this operation. If word got out, Emeralda and Rumack would get hauled in front of their parliament and probably banned from further participation. It’d also mean the Northern Island would become broadly aware of foreign elements from Saint Aile and Efzahan attempting to influence political matters in their homeland. Rumack’s public presence in the Northern Island was thus unwise.
“Besides,” Albert continued, “what do you think would happen if we sent Emilia up there? The Northern Island would welcome ’er, yeah, but to the Southern Island, we’d be a bunch of outcasts. All that stuff at Heavensky’s been kept on the down-low, except for a few rumors here and there. All the world has so far are these sketchy tales of Emilia with nothing solid to back them up. If the Northern clans accept that she’s alive, Emilia’s never gonna have a calm day for the rest of her life. The fallout might even extend all the way to Japan, that other land.”
“You humans are so meddlesome,” noted Farfarello. “It is just as Lord Lucifer says. The Spear belongs to Lord Adramelech. If all you humans have to offer us are petty excuses, we demons can simply seize it any time we please, can we not? There is no need to burden your human nations any further beyond that.”
“Right!” Urushihara gave the demon a sarcastic round of applause. “I was waiting to hear that, Farfarello.”
Albert, on the other hand, gave him a rap on the head. “Hold it, you fool of a Malebranche! Did you forget how you lost several generals out of your Efzahan volunteer army with that logic? If a cadre of demons attacks the Goat Pasture now, at a time of peace, you could wind up baiting the Federated Order into wiping
out any demons left on this planet. If this castle here gets attacked, getting up to the moon’s gonna be the least of our worries, let me tell you.”
“Pfft. What is your bright idea, then? If we left matters to you humans, judging by this conversation, it sounds impossible to retrieve the Spear without any difficulty or loss of life.”
Albert and Rumack winced. The demon was hitting them where it hurt.
“Yes, the demon realm has been racked with strife and disorder as of late, but now, we have banded under the banner of the Devil King, ready to follow his orders. You humans, meanwhile, are too obsessed over honor and greed to even care about the future of your descendants. I can hardly see how we’ll kill any gods like this.”
“Enough, Farfarello,” Suzuno interjected. “If anything, this whole effort is a huge step forward for us.”
“…Pfft.”
The demon held his tongue. Suzuno was a Great Demon General, more or less, and he had some respect for that.
“Then how about this, Albert? I could work through the Reconciliation Panel and request that we borrow the Spear in order to investigate the remains of the Devil King’s Army. We can return it once our battle is over, and I think if we give a bare minimum of explanation, the reaction should be rather more measured…”
“That could work, yeah. It’d get it in our hands, at least. But I guarantee ya someone from the North’s gonna be with it the whole time. And how’re we gonna explain it when it’s people from the Central Continent hauling it off—not Sankt Ignoreido, headquarters of the Church? We can’t casually say Oh, we’ll explain everything later once we give it back.”
“…Yes. Good point. We are taking one of the island’s most valuable assets.”
“Yeah, and don’t forget the other problem, Suzuno: Even if we manage to make off with the Spear scot-free, someone from the North’s gonna be looking over it. If they’re good people, then great, but if they start carryin’ on about what the Island or the clans get out of this, it’s gonna blow up on us before we can launch the castle. The North and the West could wind up at war by the time we get back from the moon.”
“Man, what a pain, dude,” Urushihara grumbled. “So what can we even do, then?”
Albert was proving to have a knack for shooting down every suggestion from his companions. Everyone was starting to feel weary.
“Besides,” Urushihara went on, “why do you have, like, so little influence in the Northern Island, Albert Ende? I mean, Emeralda Etuva’s one thing, but a word or two from Emilia was all it took to get the head of Saint Aile’s palace guard here on our side.”
“Quit remindin’ me,” Albert groused resentfully. “Yeah, maybe I helped the Hero, but before then, remember how you whipped my ass and the asses of my whole Mountain Corps? Folks have long memories up there! And between all the stuff I’ve been doing for the West with Eme and the fight I had with ya, I ain’t exactly on great terms with the clan chieftains at the moment, no. Plus, the current chief herder—Dhin Dhem Wurs is her name—she’s the one who banded all the clans together when Adramelech took over and the one who slapped the demon’s spear up as a monument. I just haven’t helped out the North enough to ask her to borrow the Spear for—”
“Whoa. Albert?!”
“…Mm? What?”
It was Laila, who had taken a step back from the group and listened silently, who sent up the whoop of protest.
“Who did you say the chief herder was?”
“Huh?”
“You said it was Dhin Dhem Wurs?”
“Yeah…”
“The Dhin Dhem Wurs who was born from a side family of the Wurs clan? The youngest of eleven boys and girls, but so talented with a bow and arrow that the legends say she was born ‘with enough bows for the whole family’? The Dhin Dhem I know from the Wurs clan is small, pushy, and never one to humor fools…”
Albert opened his eyes wide. “What, you know the lady?”
Given the chief herder’s position as head of state, it wasn’t too unusual for someone to know her name and history. Laila went far beyond that.
“Dhin Dhem was the last person I gave a Yesod fragment to outside my husband and Emilia.”
“What?!”
“Huh?!”
“Whaaa?!”
Suzuno, Urushihara, and Albert understood the portent of that.
“This was a good sixty years ago! She still went by her childhood name of Lidem Wurs at the time.” Laila blinked a bit, not expecting all this attention. “Before my husband and Emilia, Dhin Dhem was the last of…what I suppose you could call candidates to be a Hero.”
She held her right hand out, palm down.
“Is that…a Yesod fragment? The cores for Emilia’s holy sword and the Cloth of the Dispeller?”
Rumack couldn’t help but nearly shout at the small, mesmerizing stone she had in her hand. Laila focused on it for a moment, and it began to faintly shine, then silently emit a purple light that extended out in a line pointing northward. She turned toward the ray of light, eyes closed, for a moment, then raised her face up as the beam disappeared.
“Albert… Rumack… Do you think things would be less complicated if I could speak with Dhin Dhem Wurs real quick?”
“Ah, ah, that…”
“Less complicated ain’t the half of it.”
Albert and Rumack exchanged looks with each other.
“Let’s go, then.”
“Go?”
“Yes,” declared the purple-haired angel. “To the chief herder. And don’t worry. She’d remember me. She is a kind person, more sensitive to the flow of earth and air than anyone in the Wurs clan. I’m sure she will hear us out.”
Suzuno was still anxious.
Back on Earth, Laila had the troubling habit of manipulating everyone around her and failing to wrap things up neatly at the end. It meant her claim of Chief Herder Dhin Dhem Wurs carrying a Yesod fragment seemed implausible at best—and even if it was true, Suzuno wasn’t sure the head of state would remember Laila after six decades.
But the moment they all stepped out from the Gate in the main Church cathedral in Phiyenci, she discovered a group of large, muscular men in the Northern Island’s colorful garb waiting to greet them. Or Laila, really. It surprised her a little.
“Which one of you is Lady Laila?”
Four of them had taken the trip to Phiyenci—Laila, Albert, Rumack, and Suzuno. Before any of them could speak, one of the men was asking for Laila by name, eyeing the three women in the group.
“I am.”
Laila took a step forward. The man looked at her, confused.
“I understood that Lady Laila had silver hair with a twinge of blue to it.”
“Well, after sixty years, a woman will want to change her hair color sometimes.”
“…!”
After the fracas on the Fukutoshin subway line, Maou’s magical force had healed Laila, giving her hair the purple tint it still had today. She claimed she could reverse the dye job if she wanted, but it was a pain, and she didn’t like her original color that much anyway, so she kept it.
The excessively casual nature of their exchange made Suzuno internally sweat a little, but the man looked only a tad let down. “I see,” he said. “I suppose you are the woman I heard about."
“How did Dhin Dhem Wurs describe me?”
“She described you,” the envoy immediately replied, “as ‘a handful.’”
“I see the years haven’t dulled her tongue at all,” Laila said with a smile. It was not met by the envoy, who spun around and motioned for the quartet to follow him.
“Come this way, please. The chief herder is waiting for you.”
The other three in the group meekly followed the order, all of them unsure what Laila and the man’s banter meant for them.
Phiyenci, it turned out, was wholly deserving of its nickname.
The Goat Pasture was filled with countless examples of the animal, in all shapes and sizes. Many were on sale in the marke
t streets for their fur, milk, or meat, while others, large enough to give an adult horse or cow a run for its money, were pulling carts and transport wagons. Young girls, clad in the traditionally colorful, natural-dyed wear that was a trademark of most mountain people, even had baby goats tagging along with them like dogs or cats, which was the most darling thing ever.
This city was around three thousand feet above sea level, resulting in thinner air and lower temperatures. Given the lack of flat land to build on, Phiyenci was relatively crammed with people; as Albert explained, the port town on the continent’s southern tip was much larger and more commercially active. Still, the zirga had never moved from here in all its years. Every road and back alley was well paved, and the current Mountain Corps kept the order in every corner of the city. Diplomatic missions from nations in other continents were dotted around town, affirming its position as the nerve center of the Northern Island.
Suzuno, Laila, and Rumack had all come prepared with heavier outfits to deal with the cold, but Albert was in his same old leather jacket. Phiyenci was where people from every clan in the island gathered, and they could see a vast variety of ethnic groups running up and down the streets. One would expect a lot of people who looked like Albert, dark-skinned with white hair, but some from the northern reaches boasted lily-white skin and golden hair instead, while others looked little different from the average Efzahanian—perhaps some Eastern blood had mixed in at one point.
The one thing that united them—and made them all eye-catching—was the flashy, colorful clothing. Only a very small handful took Albert’s approach and went with all black. Some used almost every color in the rainbow, while others dressed in nothing but red or orange (the color of their clan, perhaps?). Every clan seemed to have their own style, color selection, and materials; it almost seemed like too much of a jumble for a city meant to be the capital of the continent, but it certainly offered insights into the character of the Northern Island—a gigantic federation with hundreds of clans that somehow found a way to all get along.
The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 16 Page 8
