The Gold of the Kunie

by Mamare Touno

  “Towns are like huge houses. If the town isn’t happy, none of the guilds in it can be happy. All the people that live in those houses will be unhappy, too. Shiroe’s the type who’d go head-to-head with the town or something even bigger to protect his own small house.”

  “A home, huh…”

  When Naotsugu looked at Tetora, worried about whether his explanation had gotten through to her, he saw an expression he hadn’t expected. It was her usual smile: triumphant, self-important, kind, and strong.

  “Protecting the place where you belong is important. For wolves like us, it’s the most important thing there is. If you’re expecting that much from Shiroe, he’s an amazing person. —Even greater than I’d heard. I don’t know what we should do about our guild, either.”

  “Light Indigo isn’t doing so great? I haven’t heard much about that guild; did you lose lots of people after the Catastrophe or something?”

  “No, it’s not like that. And anyway, in terms of your explanation, Light Indigo isn’t a guild or a house. It’s more like a waiting room, or a workplace.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Is it an idol training school or something?” Naotsugu asked, confused.

  However, Tetora said, “Thanks for the food!” and clapped her hands together over the square dish, then grinned and poked Naotsugu’s cheek.

  “It’s pretty much an idol training school. We’re all idols who protect the places everyone’s hearts call home. I knew coming with you was the right decision! No wonder my charisma sensor went off. Even without the Light Indigo business, I’ll stick with you until the very end of this raid, absolutely!”

  Naotsugu didn’t really understand Tetora’s proud smile, so all he could say was, “Yeah, please do.”

  2

  “Dwehchoo!”

  “My, my. That wasn’t a very ladylike sneeze, was it.”

  “My nose itched like crazy.”

  At a table in a warm dining room, Henrietta chided Marielle.

  Marielle looked around, wondering if cold air had blown in from somewhere, but the Crescent Moon League’s dining room was the very picture of peace.

  They’d requested a dining room where everyone in the guild could eat together, and the room was spacious and high ceilinged. The Crescent Moon League was a genuine midsized guild now, with more than forty members, and it was hard to fit numbers like that inside. Even so, they’d managed to get two tables that seated sixteen people each, and if they brought all their chairs in, everyone fit.

  At mealtimes, this room was filled with noise and bustle, but now, early in the evening, it held only Marielle, the guild master, and Henrietta, her right-hand woman. The atmosphere was tranquil.

  Ever since the Catastrophe, life in Akiba had been eventful.

  There had been many painful things, and many things that had made them so happy they’d wanted to dance. Through all sorts of events, around the time of the Libra Festival, it had seemed as though the town had slowly remembered what it was supposed to be. It wasn’t like the dazzling smiles that had been seen right after the establishment of the Round Table Council. However, the people who walked around town had begun to look as though they were savoring the happiness and abundance of being able to relax and live stable lives every day.

  Winter here was colder than it had been in their old world, but in the town of Akiba, time was passing peacefully, predominantly.

  It was the same for Marielle.

  Over these six months, she’d been trying hard to act like a guild master, but lately she’d been able to take it easy. It had begun when Henrietta said, “If you frown like that all the time, you’ll turn into a prickly middle-aged woman, you know.” Marielle couldn’t forget how, in the instant she’d been lectured, her guild family had looked away from her and giggled a little. She hadn’t felt it herself, but she must have been too tense.

  She’d have to give it some thought and do better. Marielle gave a soft sigh.

  Henrietta, the person who’d delivered the lecture, also seemed to have relaxed a bit recently.

  Asuka was helping her manage the accounts, apparently. Since she was involved with duties for the Round Table Council as well, she was gone quite frequently, but she did have enough time to slow down and spend the evenings like this.

  The two old friends took sips of cocoa out of thick mugs, which they held closely, to warm their palms.

  “……? ……?”

  “Oh, Nanami? What is it?”

  Henrietta spoke to the little girl who’d looked in through the door, then come trotting over. The girl made a slight detour around Henrietta, then hesitantly peeked up over the edge of the table, looking around.

  The girl had joined the guild just recently, and she was still terribly shy.

  Henrietta—one of the causes of that shyness—had lowered her eyes and was pretending to coolly drink her cocoa, but Marielle noticed that the corners of her lips were twitching.

  The day Nanami had come to the guild, Henrietta had launched into a wild, joyous dance, tumbled the little girl around with the force of a large coin-laundry dryer, and dressed her up in so many outfits that counting had gotten tiresome after thirty. Nanami had finally burst into tears, the Assassin Hien had objected fiercely, and since then, Marielle’s friend had refrained from doting on her too much.

  However, even if Henrietta had repented, the experience had probably been rather horrific for Nanami, a Person of the Earth. At times like this, she tended to keep her distance.

  “Wanna sit on my lap?”

  Marielle put an arm around Nanami’s waist and scooped her up onto her knees.

  Now Nanami, who was still very young, was able to see over the entire table.

  Since it had been built to seat sixteen, the table was both wide and long. Spread across it was Marielle’s carving knife, the woodworking tools she’d been using, and some fine-grained maple scrap wood; a rough income and expenditures estimate, which Henrietta had been calculating at her leisure; cocoa for two; and cloth sacks. For safety’s sake, Henrietta returned the carving knife to its bag. Marielle was grateful to Henrietta, who always covered for her smoothly, even when she was silent.

  Nanami’s eyes were wide with curiosity, and she was fidgeting. Marielle put an arm around her, pulling her rump closer, and felt herself smile involuntarily. She couldn’t have said exactly what it was, or how, but all sorts of things had seemed very precious to her just then.

  Illuminated by soft magic light, the dining room was warm and calm. Part of the kitchen was visible through a large aperture, and inside, two Chefs were busily making preparations for dinner. When they listened carefully, they could hear voices conversing, moving down the corridor, greetings from companions who’d returned from outdoors, and the cheerful responses that came back.

  Nanami smelled like fresh laundry. Marielle probably did, too. To Mari, this seemed a bit like a family bond.

  “Would you like some cocoa? Or were you looking for Hien?”

  Henrietta held a mug out to Nanami, tilting her head. Nanami flinched, looked up at her face, looked at the cocoa, then looked at Henrietta again. The little girl turned back, as if asking what she should do. Marielle smiled at her: “Go on, take it.”

  Nanami set her hands on the mug, carefully so as not to spill any, and took it. It was big for her, and it was all she could do to use both hands and drink cautiously.

  “!”

  Apparently the sweetness had been a shock.

  Nanami froze, looking startled.

  To the Adventurers, this girl was as naïve as could be; everything she saw fascinated her, and she seemed to want to learn so badly she could hardly stand it. This entertained the guild members, and they made a pet of her and had her try all sorts of things. However, Nanami herself seemed to like Hien—the first person she’d met—the best. When he wasn’t there, she turned timid and fidgety, and her eyes were always searching for her reliable “big brother.”

  Nanami sniffed at the coco
a, seeing what it smelled like. Then, seeming to have decided she liked it, she held the cup as if it were a treasure and kept drinking.

  I hope she relaxes like this, slowly, little by little, Marielle thought, taking care not to let Nanami slip off her lap.

  Nanami, who’d been drinking eagerly, abruptly went still.

  When she peeked in, sensing trouble, only a mouthful of the cocoa remained.

  Nanami was probably thinking, I drank it all by myself! What should I do? It was Henrietta’s!! or something of the sort; she went awkward and began acting suspiciously, and Marielle smiled at her.

  “You don’t have to worry. Umeko won’t get mad about somethin’ like that.”

  “I will get angry about being called Umeko, however.”

  At that bone-chilling comment, Marielle made an exaggerated show of fear. Nanami was adorable as she looked back and forth, timidly comparing their expressions, and the two of them burst out laughing. That exchange made Marielle certain that Henrietta felt the same warmth she did, and the idea made her far too happy.

  We’re a good guild, aren’t we?

  She was proud of that.

  “Man, is it cold out there!”

  Although what it had said hadn’t been anything like a homecoming greeting, at the sound of the cheerful voice, Nanami straightened like a clockwork doll and looked around.

  “That sounds like Hien. I imagine he’s in the entrance hall.”

  Failing to register Henrietta’s casual attempt at earning points, Nanami nodded with a grateful expression, then hopped down from Marielle’s lap. She hugged Marielle, who was smiling at her, then went off in the direction of the entrance hall on slightly unsteady feet.

  “Honestly!”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “That Hien is so popular. I’m a bit jealous.”

  “You say that, but it’s all ’cos you spooked her with that horror show of yours, Umeko.”

  “Ma-riiii…”

  The two of them giggled together.

  Being able to tease her old friend like this made Marielle unbearably happy.

  “—In that case, that sneeze a short while ago must have been Master Naotsugu.”

  “Dwah?!”

  “…However, that world was short-lived.”

  Her friend, who’d been smiling in harmony with her just a moment ago, now wore a mean smirk and plunged into a cross-examination.

  “Was it Master Naotsugu? Was Master Naotsugu talking about you?”

  “How on earth would I know?!”

  This might be a world of magic, but it wasn’t so magical that you could instantly sense things like that.

  “I see. I’ll check with him via telechat, then.”

  This clever maneuver, which seemed to blaspheme fantasy, left Marielle with her back against the wall.

  Going to this friend of hers for advice on romance might just have been a mistake. Marielle thought she’d regretted it more than a hundred times by now. Henrietta really was a capable worker, and she fielded a vast amount of work every day, but she had interests to match, and the ones at the head of the list were dressing up little girls and tormenting Mari. She was a mother-in-law. It was scary.

  “Eeeeep! Spare me!”

  “Why?”

  Don’t ask me “why,” I can’t do that! Marielle muttered the words to herself. She had no idea what expression to wear; she averted her eyes, but even so, in a spirit of resistance, she kneaded her fingertips together.

  “’Cos…”

  “Yes?”

  “We only telechat once a day, at twenty-one hundred, after dinner.”

  “……”

  Henrietta accepted the words Marielle had let fall, and there was a silence, as though she was digesting them. Then she responded with a stupefied “Huh?”

  “Huh?!”

  “I-I’m not sayin’ it twice!” Marielle retorted.

  Henrietta wore an unusual expression: Her mouth hung open so far it was nearly square.

  “I mean, he’s on a raid, y’know? He’s in the middle of a real tough job! It’s life or death, only we don’t die! Still, listen, I know Naotsugu’s fightin’ with everythin’ he has, and Shiro’s probably thinkin’ like crazy, and I can’t bother them. So I promised I’d only telechat at night, when they’ve got their camp set up—”

  Henrietta, who was pressing her fingertips to her temples and seemed to be suffering through a headache, sighed.

  What a rude friend. Apparently Marielle’s consideration wasn’t getting through to her.

  “That wasn’t what I was asking about. Or rather, I suppose it may have been… So you telechat every day?”

  “Right.”

  Marielle didn’t really understand, but she nodded.

  “I tell him about what Akiba’s like, and what Akatsuki’s been up to. Come to think of it, I told him about Nanami yesterday. Remember I made her a new smock? I talked about that. And about how we went to buy rubber boots together, and how Hien and li’l Nanami danced in the entrance hall. I told him about that new tandoori chicken, too. We both kept sayin’ how we wanted to eat it together. Naotsugu’s a big guy, so I bet he could eat three of ’em, y’know? Maybe even four, since they’re spicy! Then we talked about how lassi was good, too, and how we really did want to go out to eat together, and we just went on for so long… Say, Henrietta, you thought the tandoori was yummy, too, right?”

  “Um.”

  Henrietta stood. She looked as though she might have heartburn.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m going to run a delivery over to the Production Guild Liaison Committee before dinner.”

  “Oh.”

  “If this goes on, I’ll be so full I won’t have room for dinner. Honestly, Mari, you’re so… What’s the word…?”

  Henrietta’s shoulders slumped, and she left the dining room with an armful of files. Marielle waved, watching her friend go. Lately, this had been routine at the Crescent Moon League.

  Even though Marielle wasn’t aware of it, a white victory star had appeared on the Sumo Wrestling score chart in Henrietta’s mind.

  The outcome of this battle for the star had been a contest just as fierce as the raid.

  3

  Just as the scout team had reported, a dull, dark purple suit of armor knelt, perfectly still, in the center of an enormous, bowl-shaped coliseum. When they’d measured from a distance of more than a hundred meters using a Gunner’s Lock-On Sight, its height seemed to be about sixteen meters. It was probably a golem or a type of giant.

  Raid bosses’ detection ranges were wide, but they were also unique. In this case, it was likely that the battle would begin when William and the others entered the coliseum.

  The enemy was Ruseato of the Seventh Garden.

  To William, this enemy had the same form as Ruseato of the Seventh Prison, whom he’d fought many times in the Nine Great Gaols of Halos. Its characteristics would probably be the same, even if its abilities and tactics were stronger. According to the scout team’s reconnaissance force, Ruseato of the Seventh Garden seemed to have White Knight and Black Knight modes as well. He remembered it being a difficult boss who switched between the two sets of abilities as it attacked.

  William raised his hand to the level of his shoulder.

  That alone was enough to focus the raid members’ eyes on him.

  They’d had a briefing session beforehand. The scout party had charged and died many times over, and even as they did so, they’d brought back valuable information. Even Shiroe of Log Horizon had admitted that, with the tactics they’d built through combining this information, they had a 50 percent chance of victory. For a first battle, that wasn’t a bad figure at all.

  He felt heat swelling at his back.

  Grabbing that chance, William brought his arm straight down.

  Obeying the order, the unit flooded into the room like a river that had burst forth. With the First party in the lead, they plunged down through the grayish-white s
pectator seats.

  They slid down the ruined, crumbled walls, surging forward, forward.

  In general terms, the range of a monster’s attacks was proportionate to its size.

  Goblins were only about 140 centimeters tall; bare-handed, their attack range was just a couple dozen centimeters, and even if kicks and spears were included in the calculations, it was no more than a meter or so. However, if it was a troll two meters tall, you needed to figure that the range of the club it swung around was about three meters. From the size of the enormous raid boss in front of them, they had to assume that its attack range was fairly large.

  At Shiroe’s suggestion, the Silver Sword group had spent the past few days training to gauge ten-, fifteen-, and twenty-meter standard points implicitly. Thanks to that, they wouldn’t misjudge distances with this giant enemy.

  However, even that wouldn’t come until after they’d launched the first attack. First they had to get into the enemy’s attack range; then the vanguard would reach the front line, and the fragile spellcasters and long-range attackers would have to be posted in a safe area beyond the outer edge. They’d need to change their attack positions constantly, but their strategy used the difference between the enemy’s range and their own. Unless they made expert use of tactics that involved taking up positions in a blind spot, the rear guard wouldn’t be able to last through the raid boss’s attack. Each attack was simply that powerful.

  Running at the head of the muddy torrent, Dinclon charged into the twenty-meter range as if he meant to split it open. As though life had suddenly been breathed into it, Ruseato of the Seventh Garden stood. Its visor looked like mechanical armor, and the crimson light that seeped through its gaps ran down like water as the monster raised its enormous halberd. He saw Dinclon, shield at the ready, grit his teeth and prepare for the impact. His efforts paid off, and the Silver Sword Guardian, reinforced by heavy armor, blocked the raid boss’s first attack.

  The damage was slight, about 10 percent of his total HP.

  Still, that didn’t mean the enemy’s attack power was low. Purification Barrier, which had been cast on Dinclon before the battle began, was a damage interception spell. Cast by a high-level Kannagi, the spell had negated about 4,500 points of damage that should have been taken by the target. In other words, even after that had been negated, he’d taken damage. If the barrier spell hadn’t been there, he would have lost more than 30 percent of his HP to that single attack.