by Mamare Touno
In the sense that they accumulated the knowledge of antiquity and handed it down to the present, they resembled Miral Lake, but they didn’t spread that knowledge. The greatest difference between them and the People of the Earth academics at Tsukuba and Miral Lake was their closed nature. Not only did they not have wide contact with the People of the Earth, they did not conduct research. They were a clan that lacked curiosity and disliked contact.
Miral Lake’s policy was to gather all sorts of information, and in the past, the sage had made dozens of attempts to contact the Kunie clan. However, there was no record of any sage ever having succeeded in exchanging research information.
Now, one member of the Kunie clan was seated at the same table with Li Gan and Shiroe of Log Horizon. Li Gan’s excitement was only natural.
Shiroe’s remark seemed to have badly shaken the leader of the Kunie clan.
Kinjo gulped, looking startled. Then, as if to conceal it, he put on an expressionless mask and fell silent. This lasted for quite some time.
“Do you think that’s possible, Master Shiroe?”
When Kinjo finally replied, Shiroe’s response was to glance at Li Gan and draw his chin in slightly.
Apparently it was his turn. Praying that his leaping heart would calm itself, Li Gan began to speak.
“The prospect of which Master Shiroe speaks is something no one has ever considered before. Now that I think of it, it’s true that it seems to be one of the mysteries of this world. It’s a viewpoint that complements the Spirit Theory. Monsters reincarnate repeatedly. However, souls aside, where does the money come from? There must be some sort of system that issues money to the monsters. And, if it is possible to obtain a new perspective like that, Miral Lake has a vast number of books. Yes, we went over all of them. Books of all kinds.”
Li Gan pushed up the amethyst circlet he wore and scratched at his forehead, as he always did. The circlet was a magic item that had the marvelous effect of endowing him with improved memory and insight, but it was still a metal circlet. It hadn’t been long since Li Gan had inherited it from his predecessor, and he wasn’t used to it yet.
However, without this magic circlet, he probably wouldn’t have been able to accomplish this investigation in such a short time. And, even if he had the circlet, without the books his predecessors had collected and left behind, he was sure he wouldn’t have been able to acquire even the slightest clue.
“In the books, we discovered the village of the Kunie that Master Shiroe mentioned. That, and the gold the Kunie possess.”
“……”
Kinjo’s face remained expressionless.
Li Gan simply inquired. He had done so for a long time now. Those who belonged to Miral Lake collected knowledge. What they gained as a result of their endless collection were new questions. The answer to those questions was new knowledge. They went into the struggle against the resulting questions prepared to die, and the cycle repeated.
“In the very deepest part of the Depths of Palm, the books said, there is a vast vortex of gold. A winding river exists, where money that has appeared from the void vanishes into the void again, and then flows on to a forgotten subterranean garden. Hades first raised his army of the dead out of the desire to obtain this gold. That is found in the traditions as well. The Sage of Miral Lake took part in its defense, fifteen generations ago, and he set a seal on the Depths of Palm.”
This sort of assistance wasn’t all that unusual for the Sages of Miral Lake.
In the process of collecting all sorts of knowledge, the Sages obtained a variety of magic articles. Some were cursed and some were not, but most were extraordinarily dangerous if used incorrectly. The people—mostly nobles—who brought them to the sage wanted them to be sealed safely at Miral Lake.
Being able to grant these requests raised Miral Lake’s reputation and helped to increase the amount of knowledge the sages could gain. Even without that, having items no one else had in their care meant they had more material for research. Miral Lake had a very practical reason for researching the art of sealing. In addition, this art could be used not only to keep objects in custody, but to seal off places and areas.
“On a past adventure, the Nine Great Gaols of Halos, I acquired the Key of Eternal Darkness. This item was created by the Sage of Miral Lake, wasn’t it?”
Li Gan nodded in response to Shiroe’s words, letting him take the floor.
“This key qualified us to challenge the Nine Great Gaols of Halos. That zone was sealed by the…I’m not sure how many generations back, but a previous Miral Lake sage. There are several dangerous, sealed zones. We confirmed this matter as well.”
At Shiroe’s words, a shiver ran down Li Gan’s spine.
In the first place, Li Gan was a lore master, and his combat-type magic was extremely weak. His training wasn’t so poor he’d lose to a band of knights in the service of some petty lord, but that was only against People of the Earth, and his skills couldn’t compare to those of the Adventurers.
Even so, guarded by Shiroe and his friend Naotsugu, Li Gan had gone into the depths of the dungeon.
This was because all that was written in the records of Miral Lake was “I was asked to set a seal, and did so,” and there had been no mention of a method for releasing the seal or details regarding items. When they went to the site, they’d found an enormous bronze door that was over ten meters tall; it actually had been sealed, but the method was in the secret arts of Miral Lake, and they’d learned that it wouldn’t be all that hard to unseal it.
He hadn’t understood what Shiroe had meant by the term “unimplemented zone,” but in their investigation of the materials, they’d learned that countless sealed doors like this one existed all over Yamato. Not all of them had been sealed by Miral Lake, but for one reason or another, entering these regions and facilities was currently forbidden.
“Then you mean to obtain money from this vortex of gold?”
“Yes.”
“And you believe the vortex has some connection to the Kunie.”
“That’s right.”
As Kinjo questioned Shiroe, he finally seemed to have regained his mental composure.
“…In that case, wouldn’t taking gold from it be stealing? Does the Round Table Council intend to plunder?”
He responded with a question, and his voice was cold.
However, with that, it was clear.
There really was that much gold in the vortex under the Depths of Palm. The place was also connected to the Kunie clan. They’d gleaned hints of this from the materials, but they hadn’t been certain. It could have been completely unrelated to the Kunie. Li Gan had discussed it with Shiroe and had shared this possibility, but Shiroe had insisted, and he’d listened and contacted the Kunie clan.
One of their questions had been answered.
The Kunie clan was connected to the secret of the Spirit Theory in some way.
They weren’t positive yet, but Kinjo’s reaction had begun to prove it. The secret of the Kunie reached into the depths of the creation of the world. That conviction delighted Li Gan so much that he wanted to dance a little jig. The Spirit Theory was the greatest thing in his research. At this point, he would have liked to pour a toast with the wine he wasn’t allowed to drink.
However, Shiroe’s voice was pained.
“That’s why we called you. We don’t want to antagonize the Kunie clan. The Kunie are important. Even when it comes to using the money we acquire, unless we entrust future affairs to your people, we won’t be able to make plans.”
“How, or rather, on what, do you intend to use it, Master Shiroe?”
“If I explain that, is there a possibility of securing your cooperation?”
“There is not. Our progenitor’s orders, you see.”
“…Kinjo.”
Before Li Gan’s eyes, Shiroe’s lips tightened as though he were enduring something. Even so, he seemed to be desperately trying to connect a thin thread.
“Kinjo
. It isn’t that we don’t understand your progenitor’s order. We understand it only in the way of Adventurers, but we know it is a rule that stretches back to the Age of Myth. We have no intention of telling you to break it. We don’t want to compel you to do something forbidden. However, for that very reason, we want you to search the outer bounds of that rule.”
“……”
“That’s right. In the Catastrophe, the rules changed. We’re in a new era. It hasn’t stopped, either. I’m sure this is—”
Kinjo had closed his eyes. He looked like a steel statue.
Shiroe’s persuasion didn’t seem to have reached his heart.
Li Gan’s delight soon began to fade as well, like the sun going behind clouds. He didn’t know what was happening here in front of him. Since birth, he’d studied only magic theory and phenomenology, and something he didn’t really understand was breaking. Put into words, it would probably be the negotiations. However, for someone like Li Gan, it felt as though he could hear something breaking, something that was too valuable to be expressed with the word negotiations.
Three of the world’s four wisdoms were gathered here, and this was the best they could do?
In spite of himself, Li Gan clenched his hands into fists.
6
The atmosphere in the living room was dazed.
As Shiroe added dry firewood to the orange flames of the fireplace, Naotsugu watched his rounded back. The table had been cleared away, and two sleeping bags were laid out.
It was the interior of the mountain lodge, after the negotiations with Kinjo had fallen through.
That’s a pretty dejected-looking back, Naotsugu thought.
Such was Shiroe.
He’d put the poker in and was adjusting the position of the firewood. He was probably tending the fire with extra care because they’d be going to sleep after this, but he also looked as if he was at his wits’ end and was aimlessly stirring the fire around.
Naotsugu guessed he was probably thinking difficult things about the failed negotiations, over and over. He’d watched the discussion from the sidelines up until a short while ago, and even to him, Shiroe had seemed hard-pressed. Even more so than he’d been on the day the Round Table Council was established.
“Hey, Shiro.”
“Hmm?”
“That’s enough. Come stick your feet in your sleeping bag.”
“Okay.”
Restlessly, Shiroe moved to his sleeping bag, then sat down on top of it, cross-legged. That put him in the same position as Naotsugu.
On Earth, because the fiber materials were excellent, most sleeping bags had been thin and lightweight. However, in this world, high-performance insulating material hadn’t been developed the way it had on Earth, and so in general, sleeping bags were made of felted wool that had been sewn together. They weren’t as good at keeping out the cold as their counterparts on Earth, but since they were thick, they were pretty comfortable to sleep on. Combined with a rug with long piles, they made perfect places to sit.
“Want some, Shiro?”
He showed him a mug of hot wine. Shiroe sniffed, as though he was smelling the air, then turned him down: “No, I’m good.”
He should just have some, Naotsugu thought, but he didn’t press him.
To Naotsugu, it seemed as though on nights like this, you needed to drink some booze and sleep spread-eagled, but Shiroe wasn’t the type. He knew that, even if he left him alone, Shiroe would find his rhythm again. There was no need to force him to go along with anything.
“So, that was a total bust.”
“Yeah.”
As he answered, Shiroe’s expression was troubled.
In terms of results, Naotsugu thought it probably hadn’t been a loss. He didn’t know the details, but Shiroe needed a vast amount of cash. It wasn’t the sort of sum they could collect from the Adventurers. If he wanted to pull together an amount like that, the places he could get it from and the methods he could use would naturally be limited.
After hearing what he’d discussed with Kinjo of the Kunie clan, Naotsugu had begun to see the general picture.
Shiroe was trying to use the settings from the days when Elder Tales had been a game.
When Adventurers defeated monsters, they got the coins the monsters had possessed. If the monster was humanoid and intelligent, the type that would have tools and treasures, this was only to be expected, but Adventurers won coins even when this wasn’t the case. Even if it was a Wild Dog, a Large Boar, or some other animal, for example.
There was technically no reason for this. Elder Tales was a game, and the monsters dropped coins because the game was designed so that players could defeat monsters and use the assets they obtained to grow stronger. In other words, it happened for the convenience of the game.
However, if convenience was the only priority, the game would lose any semblance of reality, and it wouldn’t be as interesting. To that end, a variety of background information had been added. The explanation this time—“Actually, a powerful magical device from antiquity gives coins to the monsters’ souls as they’re reborn”—was one of them.
It was a ridiculous idea. However, since monsters did in fact drop coins, there had to be some sort of cause, and it had appeared before their very eyes as fact. Shiroe probably knew this, and had attempted to use it.
And, Naotsugu thought, it had worked.
In that case, let us meet there. At “the winding river where money that has appeared from the void vanishes into the void again, in the forgotten subterranean garden.”
However, in order to reach it, no doubt you’ll need many brave warriors. The Kunie clan’s answer will depend on how you and the others manage to reach the deepest spring, Master Shiroe, and the results of your challenge.
Those had been the last words Kinjo, leader of the Kunie, had said to them.
They’d been fighting words, spoken in response to a challenge.
Shiroe had ascertained that there was a vast amount of coins in an uncharted zone deep underground. He’d gathered evidence, gone to the site itself to reconnoiter, and even confirmed that they could release the seal and enter the area.
Then he’d confronted the Kunie, its probable owners, with that fact.
At that point in time, Shiroe’s plan had already succeeded. Put in plainer terms, Naotsugu thought, Shiroe hadn’t even needed to talk to the Kunie clan in the first place.
There was a subterranean zone, the treasure they were after was there, and they even had a way to get in, so all they had to do was go there and get the money. Then they’d have won an enormous fortune.
Well, that means Shiro’s probably bummed about something else.
When he thought about what that might be, the answer was automatically clear.
This problematic friend of his had wanted to talk with the Kunie clan, even if it hadn’t been necessary.
There’s no strategy. We’ll wing it, get down on our knees and beg. We’ll just persuade them.
That was what Shiroe had said before the meeting.
At the time, Naotsugu had suspected his friend was only saying he had no strategy, out of his own unique brand of humility, but he really hadn’t had a plan. What a clumsy guy. In spite of himself, Naotsugu laughed a little.
In order to achieve an objective, Shiroe would work out absolutely any kind of plan and make thorough preparations. Even this time, he must have taken a lot of time to set things up. Naotsugu had gone along when they reconnoitered the very lowest area of the Depths of Palm, and from what Li Gan had said, they’d been preparing for that for quite some time. Some of what he’d been researching in his office until late at night, every night, had been in preparation for today’s discussion.
Shiroe had prepared that thoroughly in order to acquire the money he was after, and it had borne fruit in the shape of the Kunie clan’s promise. They simply had to enter the new underground zone, then get the money.
However, he’d had a hope that lay beyond that.
When Shiroe wanted to become friends with someone, he didn’t work out a strategy. He stopped saying anything that wasn’t so straightforward that one couldn’t help but wonder if he was an idiot. Shiroe hadn’t wanted to force his way in and steal the gold, he hadn’t wanted to catch the Kunie clan off guard, and he hadn’t wanted to lie. In other words, that meant he’d wanted to make friends, and he was at a loss because that had failed.
Because Naotsugu knew this, “That was a total bust” was all he could say to his friend.
“And anyway, what was that speech a minute ago? That wasn’t like you, Shiro.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“Those were some serious weasel words. There was nothing citified about it. You couldn’t even tack city onto it.”
“It was, huh…”
Naotsugu was irritated and was reproaching Shiroe. However, the response was a very absentminded affirmation.
“That’s seriously cold. I thought we were friends,” Shiroe said. Naotsugu heaved a big sigh.
In the first place, it was only natural that the day’s negotiations had failed.
The Kunie clan had always been terribly tight-lipped, refusing to talk about themselves at all, and Shiroe hadn’t said a word about his all-important objective for acquiring the assets, or about his hopes that the other party would give their consent as well. Both sides had been much too secretive.
With a relationship like that, of course persuasion wouldn’t go well. Even Naotsugu, who was in his first year as a working adult and had been assigned to a job in sales, could understand that easily.
If it had simply been selling a kilo of pepper wholesale for ¥2,450 according to the same deal they’d had for ages, it would have been easy. All they would have had to do was take the order, deliver the product, and send the bill, just as they’d always done for this particular customer. However, if they were proposing a new product or establishing a lasting, long-term contract, things were different. They had to know the other party’s circumstances very well. They also had to communicate their own circumstances to them. They couldn’t be selfish; they had to fit the hopes of both parties together, as accurately as possible. That was the premise, and the rest was sincerity. When trying to convince the other party, it was only natural to attempt to meet them halfway.
