But...
“Oh...”
Looking through the scope, Berta let out a noise. Her concentration faltered, and the hand that held Derrringer shook. In the wobbling field of view, there was a lone rabbit.
She didn’t know if it was the same one as before. But she focused her attention and lined up the sights with the animal, willing herself to pull the trigger.
But she couldn’t shoot. When she tried, she put too much force into her hand, and the gun trembled. The one-ness was gone.
“I can’t do it,” she groaned, taking her eye away from the scope.
Pathetic.
She finally had a chance to be helpful to Yukinari. He had seen something in her, a talent, an ability, something she could do better than anyone else. This was her chance for Yukinari to see her worth, for her to repay him for saving her life.
And yet she couldn’t shoot one wild hare.
If this was how she acted with an animal, it didn’t suggest she would be able to kill a human.
It was pathetic. She always stumbled, whatever she did. She didn’t seem able to do anything.
“I’m... I’m so...”
“How is your training proceeding? According to plan?”
Berta almost jumped at the voice, and turned around. “Lady... Lady Ulrike...?”
She felt a little strange saying it. The girl in front of her was Ulrike, there was no question about that. But now she looked so different from her usual self that she was almost like another person. Her aura was sterner.
Ulrike seemed to have picked up on Berta’s hesitance.
“Are you afraid?”
“Er, yes... I’m sorry, forgive me.”
This earnest apology brought a smile to Ulrike’s face; she shook her head. “Pay it no mind. I’ve simply deemphasized Ulrike’s personality a bit.”
Although it was Ulrike’s body standing before her and speaking, the way it spoke indicated that it was the plant-based erdgod Yggdra talking. Normally, Ulrike’s human personality was front and center because that made it easy to get along with Yukinari and the others, and her words and actions would reflect that. But now, Yggdra’s consciousness was taking precedence.
“Can you not kill?”
“Er... Oh.” It seemed Ulrike knew what was happening. “Oh, uh... I’m sorry...”
But Ulrike actually looked at Berta with compassion. “It is well understandable. You are a girl with a kind heart. Yukinari surely knows that. He does not believe you will fight in the way he does.”
“You mean...”
So he really didn’t have any hopes for her, after all.
Or perhaps...
“Part of him is conflicted about whether it is right to make you do this thing. But there is no room for soft-heartedness now. Our backs are, as they say, against the wall.” Suddenly, Ulrike’s face went expressionless. “If I could fight enough for both of us, then there would be no problem.”
“Lady Ulrike... I mean, Lady Yggdra? But this is Friedland’s battle...”
“Most likely, if Friedland falls, Rostruch will be next,” Ulrike said quietly. “It is even possible my city was their target all along, given that Friedland is already nominally home to the Missionary Order.”
The reason there were three missionary units in Aldreil wasn’t because it took that many of them to keep the place under control. It was so they could send two of the units to points more remote. Aldreil was just a way station, and two of the units were just stopping over. It wouldn’t be surprising if their ultimate destination was Rostruch.
“What Veronika said is not ideal, but it is the truth.”
“What...?”
“Thus I will resist as I am able. That’s all.”
When she finished speaking, Ulrike looked at the ground below the platform. Berta followed her gaze and found that a dozen or more human figures had gathered there. At first she thought they were Friedlanders, but when she looked closer, she didn’t see anyone she recognized.
Not only that, but from their heads grew horns—or rather, branches—much like Ulrike had.
“They are my familiars, as Ulrike is.” This was certainly Yggdra, the force behind Ulrike, speaking.
“Have they come to help protect this town...?” Berta asked.
If so, there could be no more encouraging ally. Yukinari had told Berta that Yggdra was far more powerful than the erdgod that had previously ruled over Friedland. Yukinari had been able to defeat that deity with ease, but in the fight with Yggdra, he had been hard-pressed. He had even said that if the situation had been less favorable to him, he might have lost.
In other words, this god was as powerful as Yukinari, or maybe even more. And she had sent several of her familiars, her hands and feet. But...
“They may not live up to your expectations,” Ulrike said with a frown. “At root, I am a plant who cannot move. Though I can use my familiars to send my power to distant places, the farther they are from my body, from Rostruch, the weaker my power becomes. I’ve placed my ‘children,’ sprouts from my own body, as intermediaries, but they are still growing, and I fear they won’t be ready in time to stop the missionaries’ attack.”
“But... That means...”
Ulrike—or rather, Yggdra—was proposing to fight at a disadvantage. It was Friedland that would be under attack; if she wanted, the god could choose to abandon the town, save her strength, and fortify herself in Rostruch.
“There is no question. If I do not fight here, I will lose him.” Yggdra looked back at Friedland as she spoke. “My friend, Yukinari.”
Berta was startled.
“Yukinari is the erdgod of this land and a traitor to the Church. When the missionaries learn that, I cannot imagine they’ll let him live. You others might be spared if you convert, but Yukinari will surely be killed.”
“No—!”
Yukinari would die.
The possibility hadn’t occurred to her. Even given his powers as an angel, he was not so different from a human of flesh and blood. He was soft and warm to the touch, he ate and drank as Berta and the others did. He was, really, a living thing with blood flowing through his veins—or to put it another way, if his heart were pierced, his head cut off, he would die.
“I... I hadn’t... hadn’t even thought about that...”
“If you cherish Yukinari, then protect him with your power. If you do what you can do, it will naturally protect him.”
So saying, Ulrike patted Derrringer’s barrel.
●
There was no telling when the missionaries would come from Aldreil, so Yukinari paid particular attention to their likely invasion routes. Specifically, he set up shop at the town gate in the opposite direction from the sanctuary and the observation platform, so he could respond to a threat at any time.
This gate opened onto the wide main road and was the largest of Friedland’s entryways. It could be considered the town’s main gate.
“However...” Yukinari said, looking at his partner.
“What?” Dasa asked, cocking her head.
She was at Yukinari’s side as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He had suggested she stay at the Schillings mansion so she would be out of immediate danger if a battle started, but she showed no sign of listening. Indeed, carrying Red Chili in one hand, she seemed determined not to stay anywhere but with Yukinari.
“Waiting is the worst,” Yukinari said.
“That’s because you need the patience—the strength of spirit—to keep your anxiousness under control.”
The reply came from Veronika, dressed for combat. Her wounds weren’t fully healed yet, but she insisted she could still fight, so she was there too. Behind her were several of the town youth she had trained, standing with Durandalls in hand. They had long helped with public security, handling fights and petty crime, but they had never been anything more than a community watch. They had no experience in fighting unit to unit or wielding deadly weapons, and it wasn’t clear even now that
they really understood what would be demanded of them. Veronika had only had a few days to train them, but went ahead on the supposition that something was better than nothing.
Yukinari had had no choice but to use them; he simply didn’t have enough people.
“When the battle starts, we’ll get the fieldworkers into the town. At the same time, the runners will go alert the other fifty members of the community watch, who will go to where either Yukinari or Ulrike is waiting.”
She had trained nearly eighty people, but because there wasn’t spare time or resources to create enough Durandalls or Derrringers, let alone enough bullets, only about half that number would be able to fight with gun in hand. The rest would handle support, communications, and distribution of resources.
Yukinari and Dasa had set traps along the two routes most likely to be used for an invasion, and if they worked, they would slow the enemy down somewhat. It would be ideal if they frightened the knights enough to send them running home, but Yukinari wasn’t expecting it.
“Yukinari.”
He turned around to find Fiona standing there. Since an attack might come at any time now, she was going around and warning people. Those working in the fields had been informed, as had the hunters and charcoal makers who were out in the vicinity. If any of them spotted hide or hair of the missionaries, word would come quickly.
“I’m pretty much done letting everyone know.”
“Good. Thanks for your help,” Yukinari said. Then he sighed. “I didn’t want to worry everyone if I could help it, but there was no other choice.”
“Yukinari...?” Fiona frowned, looking puzzled. “Something’s been bothering me.”
“What is it? If you’re concerned about anything, now’s the time...”
“You... You don’t really think that you can or even should face the Missionary Order alone, do you?”
For an instant Yukinari failed to understand; he said nothing. Actually, that was what he thought, or at least what he wanted. He was in the role of the protector-god of this town, even if he hadn’t asked for it.
“If nothing else, I think that if I destroy the statue of the guardian saint, they’ll lose the will to fight, just like Arlen and his friends did. If everyone else can help stall until I do that—”
She cut him off angrily. “That’s not what I meant! I’m saying I think you might be underestimating them! Each unit of the Order has a statue, so wouldn’t two units mean two statues? Even if you destroyed one, what would you do about the second?”
“Ah, that’s why I’ve got Ulrike out there.”
Granted, they were so far from Rostruch that Ulrike couldn’t use her full power. But even so, there was a significant forest near the observation platform. As the familiar of the plant-based erdgod Yggdra, Ulrike should literally be able to use the terrain to her advantage. And the familiars had physical abilities far exceeding those of normal humans. They might well be able to throw off the missionaries.
“But the missionaries here won’t know what’s happening on the other side of town, will they?”
“Er... Y-Yeah, but...”
“So even if you destroyed their statue, they’ll think they still have a lifeline left. How can you be sure they’ll stop fighting?”
Yukinari was silent.
“Yuki...” Dasa touched Yukinari’s hand, concerned. He had always fought alone—or rather, together with her. They had defeated their opponents as if batting away sparks: as long as they protected themselves, that was enough. As long as they brought down the enemy in front of them, that was all they had to worry about. There had been no need to look past the enemy to what came next. Until now.
“We need you to destroy the statue of the guardian saint,” Fiona said. “That’s the one thing we can’t do, no matter how hard we try. But we can’t know if that will be the end of it. If the missionaries don’t lose the will to fight, the townspeople are going to have to join the battle. Including me and Berta!”
He still said nothing. He couldn’t. Fiona was telling him, in essence, not to try to do everything himself. Yukinari had really seen fighting as his job. The townspeople, everyone else, was just helping.
That was why he always felt, somehow, apologetic. If he were more overwhelmingly powerful, he wouldn’t have to put them in danger, ask them to do such awful things.
Berta couldn’t shoot a rabbit. And there were surely others who, like her, hesitated to fight. It wasn’t something as contemptible as cowardice, though. Indeed, Yukinari thought it was the right way to feel as a human being. That was exactly why he hated this situation where those people were compelled to fight. He felt something like guilt.
“Don’t lose heart, O mighty god,” Fiona said, looking him in the face. “You’ve done everything you can for us, and you’re still doing it. Gods give blessings to their believers, right? But the believers owe something to the gods for those blessings. We aren’t just little birds that open our mouths to be fed. Nothing in this world comes without a price. We want to do what we can to help you and to protect our town. We can’t help if you’re holding out on us.”
Yukinari was silent.
“I think she’s got you there, O Yukinari, god of Friedland,” Veronika said with a wry grin. He looked at her and found that the young people behind her were all nodding. All of them looked afraid—but at the same time, resolute.
“I understand,” he said. “Thank you. I’ll remember that.”
And then—
“They’re heeeeere!”
A cry broke out, almost as though it had been waiting for a beat in their conversation. He looked and saw several townspeople in farm clothes rushing toward the gate. They didn’t even have their tools; they looked panicked.
“All right.”
Yukinari and the others nodded at each other.
“Yukinari, be careful,” Fiona said.
“I will,” he said, and then Fiona and the runners set off into town to warn everyone that the battle was beginning.
●
Berta spotted something portentous from her perch on the observation tower. Coming down the road that swept lazily around the forest, she saw first one and then another mounted, armored figure appear. They formed a long, thin column, never ceasing in their advance toward Friedland.
“...Erk...”
They were frightening, Berta thought. She no longer felt anything in particular when she looked at Arlen and the other knights who lived in town, but these missionaries coming from the far side of the woods—they were dressed the same, yet they left her feeling intensely pressured. They were still quite some distance away, but she found herself frozen in place. The terror was like a bladed weapon at her throat.
It took her a moment to realize that what she was feeling was the collective hostility, the murderous intent, given off by the approaching enemy. Berta had been present at several of Yukinari’s battles, but most of those had been against xenobeasts or demigods, and it was Yukinari that they had been focused on.
But now it was she herself who bore the brunt of their hatred, even though they probably didn’t yet know she was there. There was nothing different about the opponent. But Berta now faced them with the intent to fight them, and as a result she suddenly felt something she had never felt before, was sensitive to the hostile aura as she’d never been.
“I— I...”
Can I do it? The anxiety welled up in her chest once again. Could she shoot at them? She didn’t know. But if they weren’t stopped, they would certainly destroy the town. Even worse, Yukinari would be killed.
Berta felt a thin line of sweat trickle down from her forehead. She gripped Derrringer so tightly her hands started to hurt. It seemed so much heavier than it had when she was practicing. This weapon was designed to unilaterally take the life from another person. She was setting out to kill.
She was silent. She wouldn’t shoot yet. There was no point shooting until they were close enough to hit, she told herself. Almost like an excuse. As i
f anything would change if she delayed the act by a few seconds.
Some seventy missionary knights had appeared from the woods. Behind them, a massive horse-drawn wagon rumbled along. Twenty people walked alongside to guard it. A cloth was draped over the cargo so it couldn’t be seen—but most likely, it was a statue of the guardian saint.
And then...
“You shall go no farther—halt!”
A voice thundered out. In front of the confused knights stood a young girl and several followers, blocking their way.
It was Ulrike and other familiars of Yggdra. They were young and old, male and female, but their hair was green, and each had horns growing from their head. But the strange shape of the horns meant that at a glance, someone might assume they had simply dyed their hair and that the horns were hand-made ornaments.
Berta was far enough away that she couldn’t see exactly what was happening, but she could make out the dubious faces of the missionaries.
“Who or what are you?” the mounted knight at the front of the column asked in a loud voice. “This is no place for children. Out of our way!”
Of course, Ulrike was nowhere near as far away from the knight as Berta was. They could easily have heard each other without shouting. Yet instead the knight spoke loudly enough for Berta to hear every word, presumably in an attempt to intimidate Ulrike. Her position at the head of the group of familiars made it obvious that she was leading them. No doubt the knight thought that since she was just a child, he could scare her away with a little shouting and she would let him through.
He didn’t know what a mistake he was making.
“Quite a noisy one, you are. What do you think? That if you shout loud enough, I will move?” Ulrike herself spoke loudly as she said this. This was probably out of consideration on her part, so Berta could hear what was going on. In a taunting tone, she continued, “Which of us is more childish?”
“You impudent brat!”
The knights’ attitude got prickly in a hurry. Apparently, they couldn’t endure being mocked by a child.
“Ah, listen to these young wolves howl about impudence,” Ulrike laughed, and then all the familiars laughed with her.
Bluesteel Blasphemer Volume 3 Page 15
