Bluesteel Blasphemer Volume 3

by Ichirou Sakaki

  “Concerning the matter of trade,” Ulrike said. “Are Friedland and Rostruch not somewhat distant from each other? To travel from one to the other periodically is one thing, but they are perhaps too far to transport goods on a daily basis.”

  Yukinari didn’t reply immediately. He had been assuming she wanted to talk about what to do if the Missionary Order attacked, and now he had to reorient himself. “Well, that’s true, but...”

  Sprouts and seeds were one thing; a relatively small number of them could be brought to Friedland and used to grow more. But if they had to transport a large number of bags stuffed with wheat, they would need guards, and the amount of labor required to conduct commerce would increase dramatically. Yukinari had determined that even so, there would still be enough benefit to both parties to justify the effort. That was why he had initiated trade in the first place.

  “On that note,” Ulrike said. “What about a mode of transport that does not use guards or carriages? The amounts that could be moved would be limited, but it would require fewer resources as well.”

  “No guards or carriages? There’s no way—”

  “There is the way I delivered you from Rostruch to Friedland before, is there not?”

  “Delivered me? You mean—”

  Finally he saw what she was getting at. When Yukinari had gone to Rostruch to investigate the possibility of trade, a demigod had attacked Friedland in his absence. He had needed to rush home to protect the town, but the distance was too great for even Yukinari to cover it very quickly. On that occasion, he’d received help from Ulrike’s “mother,” Yggdra.

  “I’m not sure most things could handle being ‘delivered’ that way.”

  He remembered the experience, and it struck him as much too violent for most things or people. Yggdra had returned Yukinari, and Dasa as well, to Friedland by draping a vine across the branches of two huge trees and launching the pair of them back home. They had, in essence, traveled by the world’s biggest slingshot.

  Needless to say, for this method to be remotely safe, some way of slowing down upon reaching the destination was required. When Yukinari was in his “angel” form—the body that allowed him to use his powers to the fullest—wings sprouted from his back. They weren’t intended for flight, but they made it possible to control his attitude, and so he’d managed to land in Friedland with some semblance of grace.

  But a load of goods with no way of controlling its own flight path would simply smash into the ground. Even if the contents came through intact, they would be scattered everywhere, and collecting them again would be a major chore. To say nothing of the danger to anyone the delivery happened to come down on.

  Ulrike, however, had a way around these concerns.

  “Could we not make a large lake and drop the deliveries there? To ensure the contents do not scatter, we could use a shell such as you made before.”

  “I see what you mean...”

  The “shell” Ulrike referred to was a half-globe of metal Yukinari had produced as a defense mechanism when he was fighting Yggdra. He could simply make a complete globe along the same lines, and the seeds or any other deliveries could be put inside and safely launched. When the globe came down in the lake, they would retrieve it. Problem solved. If they could ensure the globes would be fired with enough accuracy, they didn’t even need water. A huge net could be used to catch the deliveries.

  Ulrike’s suggestion certainly had some appeal. But...

  “Over such a long distance...”

  Accuracy would become the main problem. It was the equivalent of doing sniper work, albeit with gigantic plants instead of a gun.

  The environment was constantly changing; it was never really stable. Temperature and wind direction could vary from day to day, to say nothing of season to season. Trying to consistently land the “bullet” in one specific spot was a very tall order.

  Even if Yukinari was able to create a lake or a net large enough, they would need a more detailed map than they currently had in order to make fine adjustments, along with measuring devices to tell them the ambient temperature and wind direction. If they got the angle even a little wrong, it could result in being several hundred meters off target.

  “Anyway,” Yukinari said. “Aren’t you worried that the globes might be attacked by flying demigods or xenobeasts?”

  “I don’t know,” Ulrike said, looking equally puzzled. “This has never been tried.” Well, that was fair enough.

  At some point, though, they might need defenses against an enemy who came from overhead. The birdlike demigod they had encountered before was able to escape in one of their battles because it had gotten out of range of both Yukinari’s Durandall and Dasa’s Red Chili. Both weapons fired bullets, meaning they weren’t accurate over extremely long distances.

  They might need some kind of gun and ammunition that could be used over massively longer distances than what they had now. This had been on Yukinari’s mind ever since his encounter with the flying demigod, but he’d been too busy to give it much thought.

  And if it really comes to a battle with Aldreil’s garrison...

  In that case, long-range weapons would probably be an asset.

  “I’ve got to make... some kind of sniper rifle...”

  “Sni-per-ri-fle...?” Ulrike said, tilting her head like a bird.

  It wasn’t a word she would know, coming from the world she did. Here, bows and arrows constituted the extent of ranged weaponry, and guns that fired using black powder didn’t exist at all. At least, Yukinari had never seen anyone carrying a gun.

  “It’d take forever to explain,” he said with a half-smile. “When it’s done, I’ll show you.” Then he added, “I like your idea. Thanks,” and patted Ulrike on the head. It was something he always did with Dasa, and it had become a habit.

  Ulrike looked startled for a moment, but then her eyes squinted like a cat, and she smiled. It was outrageously adorable.

  “Anyway, I’ll think about if there’s a way to make it work.” Yukinari felt his heart rate jump, and he mentally repeated, She’s just a plant, she’s just a plant...

  Maybe Ulrike noticed this, or maybe not, but she nodded happily and said, “I see. Understood. I shall not hesitate to aid you if I can, Yukinari, for you are my friend.”

  ●

  After he was done talking to Ulrike, Yukinari went back to his room, where he found Dasa sitting on his bed, waiting for him.

  “Yuki... Exam.”

  “Sure, I know.”

  Dasa’s eyes weren’t exactly the ones she’d been born with. She’d had cataracts since birth, leaving her largely unable to see. Yukinari had put in artificial lenses, and now she had normal vision. But the treatment he’d given Dasa was based on what the doctor in his previous world had said when Yukinari’s sister was going to undergo cataract surgery. Yukinari himself had no specialized training.

  He hadn’t even had a sterile room to do the surgery in. He tried to clean and sterilize things as best he could, but an amateur could only do so much. As a result, he had to regularly check Dasa’s eyes to make sure everything was still normal, especially that there was no inflammation.

  He sat down next to Dasa and reached over. “I’m going to take off your glasses.”

  But Dasa took Yukinari’s hand and gently lowered it.

  “Dasa? What’s wrong?”

  “Today it’s my... turn to do the ex...am,” she said haltingly, still holding his hand.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Yuki, your... body.” She let go of his hand and touched his chest.

  Strictly speaking, Yukinari’s body wasn’t human. It was a homunculus, created using alchemy. He was an angel—the word meant messenger—a living alchemical device originally intended for the True Church of Harris to use when converting a populace. The “miracles” the angel could perform would convince the people of the truth of the church’s teachings.

  The person who had built Yukinari’s body was Jirina Urban, an
alchemist under confinement by the Church. She had taken it upon herself to create an angel with a sense of self—that was Yukinari. For this, the church had purged her, meaning there was no one left who could examine him with complete confidence.

  But Dasa was Jirina’s little sister. She’d been Jirina’s assistant for as long as she could remember, so she had a fairly extensive knowledge of alchemy. Her impaired vision meant she hadn’t read any books on the subject, but by talking constantly to her sister, she had become quite knowledgeable.

  As noted, the Church kept alchemists and their families under confinement—outwardly, the True Church condemned alchemy as heresy—so Dasa had known almost nothing about the outside world until she met Yukinari. The result was that much of what she knew was secondhand, or rather, it had no practical experience to back it up.

  “I feel fine.”

  Dasa said nothing, but only looked at Yukinari in displeasure over the rim of her glasses, her hand still on his chest.

  “Okay, I get it,” he said with a shrug.

  Dasa was normally quite willing to do what he said, but once in a while she became possessed of a great stubbornness. Especially when it came to “her” field—alchemy, where, after Jirina died, Dasa had been something of a teacher to Yukinari. At times like these, the best course of action was just to go along with her. Yukinari had learned this from experience during their travels. When she felt wronged, Dasa could pout for very long time.

  “Take off your shirt.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “You only need to say... it once.”

  Yukinari removed his shirt, and Dasa put her face close to his chest.

  “Hey, what’re you—”

  “Hold... still.”

  “I—I don’t think this is an exam!”

  “It is,” she said, turning her head as if she were going to rub her cheek against his bare chest.

  It took Yukinari a moment to realize that she was conducting the exam with her senses of hearing and touch. Because Dasa had spent so long unable to see, her auditory and tactile perception were highly developed. And although she could see with no problem now, she still seemed to have some trouble relying on her sight—she preferred to confirm what she saw using her hearing and touch, and even her sense of smell.

  “Close your... eyes, and lie... on your side.”

  “R... Right...”

  He got the idea, but this was the first time she had ever examined him at such length. It was confusing. But when Dasa got into her “little sister of an alchemist” mode, he knew it was best not to contradict her. So, with some hesitation, he lay down on the bed.

  She is just... using her hearing and touch to check me out, right?

  He remembered doctors in his previous world doing something similar. So he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let the tension out of his body.

  The first thing he felt was a thin, cold finger. It traced a line along his chest. At first it felt ticklish, but soon the chilly digit felt comfortable. The touch had a certain tenderness, but from time to time the finger would press down firmly or tap gently. That meant she really was examining him.

  Simultaneously, Dasa pressed her ear to Yukinari’s chest, listening carefully to his heartbeat. Her silver hair and the breath leaving her mouth tickled, too, until he thought he might actually laugh out loud.

  If anyone else saw them like this, what would they think? Ulrike seemed to have gone to sleep early, and Berta had stayed in Friedland to look after Veronika. There shouldn’t be anyone else at the sanctuary who might see them.

  Yukinari opened his eyes a little bit. Dasa’s face was at his chest again; she was rubbing her nose against it gently. Checking the smell, perhaps. Come to think of it, he had once heard that it was possible for animals to detect people in ill health by their body odor.

  “...Yuki.”

  “Oh, uh, yes?” he said, quickly closing his eyes again.

  “You’ve been... working a bit too hard recent...ly.”

  “I don’t really think so.”

  “Don’t... overdo it, okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I’m... not.”

  Yukinari was lost for words. For better or worse, it seemed she had seen through him.

  Yukinari had decided to stay in Friedland, to act as its god, for Dasa. When she lay dying, Jirina, to whom he owed everything, had asked him to take care of Dasa, and in order to protect her, the two of them had been living on the run ever since. But for Dasa, who had only ever known life inside an isolated Church facility, the constant travel was becoming a burden. For her sake, Yukinari had wanted to settle down somewhere.

  This was hardly lost on Dasa. She was forever anxious about the fact that it was her fault Yukinari was forcing himself to take the role of a god like this; it hurt her to watch.

  “Yuki, you’re... tired.”

  Dasa spoke from where she lay practically on top of him.

  “Maybe I am.”

  “Your heartbeat and your scent are slightly different from before.”

  “My heartbeat? I think it’s just—”

  —because of what you’re doing right now, he thought, but couldn’t bring himself to say.

  By before, Dasa probably meant the times when they had often slept under a single blanket or overcoat together. Now that he thought about it, he remembered how often Dasa had pressed her ear to his chest or breathed in the smell of him. Of course, he’d had his shirt on then.

  “Are you worried about something?” she asked. Silently, she seemed to be saying, You can tell me.

  She really was worried about him. Ever since Jirina had entrusted Dasa to him, Yukinari had been totally focused on protecting her. He had believed himself willing to give up everything for. But in her own way, Dasa had been looking out for him, too.

  He had known that. And recently, he hadn’t been paying it much mind.

  Maybe he had been feeling a little tired. He just hadn’t had the time to admit it.

  “All this time,” he said with a small smile, “I’ve been trying to protect just what I can see. Like, fighting back when the Missionary Order attacked. Driving off that demigod to help keep the townspeople safe. I’ve been thinking I can get by just protecting what I can see, what I can reach.”

  Dasa said nothing, but he felt her stir against his chest. He placed a hand on her back as he continued.

  “I basically thought, if I could protect you, that was all that mattered. What did I care about anything else? I’ve already died once, and over here I don’t have an older sister—or any family. I didn’t know what to do, but I wanted to at least do that, to protect you. I thought if I could, things might just work out somehow.”

  “Yuki...”

  “But lately I’ve learned the hard way that it’s more complicated than that.”

  To protect someone, to give them the peace of mind to live their lives, one had to safeguard an environment in which they could be free of worry, in which they could live. But to preserve stability in a fundamentally unstable environment meant ensuring you had the leeway to respond to sudden or unexpected developments.

  And for that, it was necessary to take into account an even larger environment.

  And...

  “I’m sorry, Dasa.”

  A questioning silence.

  “With everything that’s happened, I’ve come to care about the Friedlanders, too.”

  He had only meant to use this town as an environment that he could take advantage of to protect Dasa. But now he found the townspeople meant something to him—not as much as Dasa, perhaps, but something. Here, there were people he was close to, of course, like Berta and Fiona, but also the many townspeople he had met through them. Most of them revered Yukinari as a god; they looked at him with such profound respect in their eyes. How could he not feel something for them?

  “But that means I have to look after an even larger environment.”

  In order to keep Friedland safe, he had initia
ted trade with Rostruch, and as a result he had become personally acquainted with Rostruch’s erdgod Yggdra and her familiars, including Ulrike. Ulrike had called him a friend; it was a sign that they weren’t simply partners in trade—they weren’t simply using each other for mutual benefit.

  The most important person in Yukinari’s life was still, without a doubt, Dasa. But before, Dasa alone had been important to him. There had been no question of order, because there was no one else in his heart. He cherished so many more things now. There was joy in that, but it also weighed on him.

  “I have to look as far afield as I can if I’m going to play the part of the erdgod,” he said. “The townspeople expect it of me. Before, I always just felt I had to do what I could. But if you’re going to play god, there’s a lot more to worry about. From that perspective, honestly, I think I was sort of naïve about what it meant to be a deity.”

  In his previous life, Yukinari’s mother had gotten sucked into religion and had all but left her family behind, so he was deeply suspicious of the whole concept of “god.” In his eyes, it was nothing but a way to stop people from thinking, to rob them of their money and time. But...

  “Setting aside the morality of living sacrifices, erdgods are really amazing. They can do all this just... naturally. Not that I would want to become one with the land even if I could; I’d lose my sense of self.”

  “...Yuki.” Dasa, unusually, interrupted him. He looked at her and saw that she was still on top of him—but she had risen slightly to look him in the eye.

  “You’re definitely... working too hard.”

  “...Maybe so.”

  “You want... to... do everything yourself.”

  This made him blink.

  “You... protect me, Yuki... so I want... to... protect you.”

  “Dasa...”

  “With alchemy... humans tried to understand... the laws of nature, and... replicate them. You may... not be a god, Yuki... but one... day... you’ll be able to do the same things a god can do. I’m sure... of it.” There was conviction in her voice. “And I... will help you.”