by Ryota Hori
Prologue
A single man walked through the pleasure quarter in the northern districts of the imperial capital, clad in a hood and mantle and mingling with the darkness of the night, trying to avoid attention. The cries of the drunkards and the coquettish voices of the barmaids echoed distantly in his ears. He hurried to his destination, the unpleasant scent of alcohol mixed with smoke invading his nostrils.
He’d already given his report to his official superior— the Emperor— but right now he was about to report to his other, behind-the-scenes superior.
While Shardina was delivering the account of what happened to the Emperor, Saitou had simply kneeled with a grave expression, but this more shadowy superior would require him to make a more detailed explanation of what happened.
The Organization. Such a gathering of people existed on this Earth, and its members simply referred to it as such. A place which those plucked away from their home world and thrown into this one could congregate in. And, at the same time, where those burning with endless hatred and loathing resided.
“Heh... What a vexing matter.” Imagining the face of his superior made a leaden sigh escape Saitou’s lips.
Saitou’s behind-the-scenes superior, Akitake Sudou, was by no means the kind of man who didn’t take circumstances into consideration, nor did he have the kind of personality that made him hard to get along with. In fact, considering it was Sudou who granted Saitou a place in the Organization, the man was effectively the savior of his life. If one were to look past the fact that he was something of a cynic who took a bit of pleasure in teasing other people, Sudou was an ideal employer.
But the one thing he wasn’t was a soft person.
If one were to consider the recent incident from the perspective of Saitou’s position as the vice-captain of the Succubus Knights, this whole affair was far from a failure. True, the fact that Ryoma Mikoshiba had slipped through their fingers after he had briefly been in their grasp was a strike against him, but the chances of catching him in the first place were already slim, and Shardina had to assume all responsibility for the matter as captain.
In fact, after the audience, the Emperor personally gave Saitou a few words of encouragement. He’d more than just fulfilled his role as the vice-captain of the Succubus Knights which supported the empire, and as Shardina’s right hand man.
But from the perspective of whether he succeeded here as a member of the Organization, the outlook was a touch more dubious. Part of the mission appointed to Saitou was to advance Shardina’s political standing.
After receiving permission to come in, Saitou opened the door and was greeted with the sight of Sudou sitting on the room’s sofa, enjoying a meal and a bottle of wine sitting on the table.
“I hear things have been quite hectic for you. My, you’ve worked hard indeed, have you not?”
Having been greeted in a teasing, superficial fashion, Saitou’s expression stiffened. There was a lot he wanted to say, but no matter how much of a mean-spirited, twisted person the man sitting before him was, he was still his superior.
Saitou moved to sit down on the opposite sofa without asking for permission, aware of how impolite that was. Such was his silent form of protest. Watching Saitou’s expression with amusement, Sudou poured some wine into the glass in front of him.
“My, this is something of a surprise... From your expression, I assume Mr. Mikoshiba’s escape from Princess Shardina’s grasp wasn’t a result of your scheming. And here I was convinced you purposely gave him an opening...”
Sudou’s gaze suddenly took on a sharpness that could seemingly cut through everything, and Saitou felt a chill slithering down his spine.
“Are you implying I allowed my personal feelings to mingle with my responsibility?” Saitou nearly stood up, the words he feared hearing the most reaching his ears.
If Sudou were to answer this question in the affirmative, it would spell a death sentence for Saitou. The Organization was fundamentally intolerant of failures, and if one’s actions were perceived as trying to deliberately hinder the mission, it would result in instant execution. That was an obvious form of self-defense for an illegal organization.
The Organization had ordered Saitou to aid Shardina, or to be more exact, to help her gain merit and increase her influence in the court; in that regard, this turn of events was a particularly painful blow for the organization.
True, the Emperor had covered for his beloved daughter Shardina and granted her a chance at conquering Xarooda, but there was no avoiding the fact that some nobles would likely go on to doubt her capabilities. Shardina’s influence had been reduced somewhat, and that was an irrefutable truth.
However, he had won Shardina’s deep trust in numerous ways; the fact that he was able to quickly set up the blockade by the border and lead Ryoma Mikoshiba into the forest as she had planned, the fact that he advised her to slay Ryoma upon his capture despite his understanding of the Emperor’s wishes, and most of all, throwing himself onto Shardina to protect her when the wind generated by the verbal thaumaturgy spell swept through the camp.
If the Organization were to kill Saitou now, they would have to send someone else to serve under Shardina, but that hypothetical replacement would take a considerable amount of time to build up the degree of trust Saitou had earned. Ergo, it wasn’t profitable for them to kill Saitou now.
But that all hinged on the Organization’s understanding that Saitou put his all into capturing Ryoma Mikoshiba. Saitou was both an operative and a spy for the Organization, and as such, allowing his personal emotions to influence his mission was unforgivable.
In the end, whether the Organization recognized that this chain of events was beyond Saitou’s control depended on Sudou’s opinion. It was only natural, then, that he would go pale upon hearing Sudou’s words.
But Saitou’s cautious expression merely made Sudou raise his voice in pleasant laughter, without a sliver of the sharp look he’d had before.
“Well, perhaps I’ve threatened you a bit too hard... Come now, no need to be so nervous. If I were seriously intent on disposing of you, you’d have bid this mortal coil farewell a long time ago.”
Their gazes remained locked together for a single, interminable moment.
“Yes... I suppose that’s true.” Saitou said, evidently convinced.
Heaving a heavy sigh, he sat back down on the sofa.
What a terrifying man... He knew everything about the situation before I even reported it to him.
He realized Sudou’s words were said in jest, but that also meant his power and influence extended far and deep into the Empire. Yes, deep enough to know even the most minute details of one of the Emperor’s meetings.
Saitou’s throat was dry from the suspense, and he felt an innate need to quench his thirst. He took the glass sitting in front of him and downed it in one gulp; the sour flavor of red wine, matured and ripened by years of storage, filled his mouth. He would have liked to linger on its taste a bit longer, but right now it was nothing more than liquid to erase the dryness from his throat.
Seeing Saitou’s face contort as he gulped the wine down, Sudou’s smile deepened as he handed him a glass of water.
“Well, while it’s certain that Princess Shardina’s influence took a blow as a result of recent events, her trust in you has increased just the same. The murder of the court thaumaturgist, Gaius Valkland, was not something we planned for, but it has merely moved things slightly ahead of schedule... Unfortunate as it may be for those who wished to slay Gaius themselves.”
“Which is to say?”
“Well, I do not find much fault in your judgment during this incident, Saitou, and I intend to say as much in our planned m
eeting two weeks from now... Oh, yes, since I’ve gone to the trouble of having this meal prepared, feel free to help yourself.”
Relieved by those words, Saitou reached for the dishes set in front of him.
“But to think there’s a man who could take one such as you by surprise... That Mikoshiba fellow is quite impressive, given his youth.”
“Yes... Though I would not say he is strong, so much as I would say he is terrifying.”
“Terrifying?”
Feeling Sudou’s probing gaze on him, Saitou stopped moving the spoon in his hand.
“Yes. I find his ruthlessness and adaptability to be rather frightening, if I am to be honest.”
Were things to come down to simply arm strength and agility, Saitou would surely overwhelm Ryoma Mikoshiba. Having lived in this world for nearly eight years and fought through countless battles, Saitou had developed one of the skills unique to this world, martial thaumaturgy, allowing him to exhibit a strength exceeding what human muscles could normally produce. If Saitou and Ryoma were to clash, Saitou would, objectively speaking, no doubt be the stronger of the two.
But in a battle to the death... Well, I’ve slipped through many of those in the past. I have confidence I won’t lose to some brat, but he...
What made Ryoma Mikoshiba so frightening was not his physical strength or his transcendent martial arts skills, but rather, the way his method of thinking wasn’t bound by common sense, and how ruthless he could be against his enemy.
That was a strength Saitou sought; a strength he had lacked in his younger days.
“I see... the strength of his heart.” Sudou seemed to have picked up on everything from the look on Saitou’s face. “But if that’s the case, it makes his talent all the more outstanding. To say one’s potential is ominous truly must mean people like him.”
“Which is to say?”
Gazing at Saitou’s doubtful, questioning face, Sudou smiled like a mischievous prankster.
“You’ve spoken to him yourself, Saitou. How old would you say our young Mr. Mikoshiba is?”
Regarding the unexpected question doubtfully, Saitou gave his honest impression.
“Yes, let’s see... Well, I’d assume he’s the same age as me, or a bit younger, perhaps?”
“Hmm, hmm. So, in his mid twenties or so... Yes, I see, I see.”
That was a reasonable assessment. Had anyone else asked the question, Sudou and Saitou would have answered the same way. Assuming, of course, they didn’t know the answer ahead of time...
“Apparently, he is actually sixteen years old.”
Sudou’s words rang decidedly loud in Saitou’s ears, but he couldn’t quite understand them. Or perhaps it would be more apt to say, he didn’t want to believe them.
“What?”
Glancing at Saitou’s face, Sudou tilted the glass in his hand. He likely felt the same way as Saitou deep down.
“I refer to Mr. Mikoshiba’s age, of course.”
“It can’t be... Are you sure that’s true?”
“I confirmed the documents he submitted when he registered at the capital’s guild. There’s no mistaking it.”
Those words made Saitou fall silent.
Sixteen? I suppose I could believe if you’d tell me he was a teen who just happens to look a bit older... But sixteen? No, wait. He did mention he was a high-schooler back then...
It was certainly possible for a person to fake how old they looked, the countenance they had, and the impression they left. Makeup and one’s attire could greatly influence how old they looked. Depending on the circumstances, a sixteen-year-old could be made up to appear thirty years old, and vice versa.
Things were so hectic in that moment, and it had been pushed to the back of his mind after having to deal with the aftermath of the incident and returning to the capital, but those words clicked with what Saitou had now remembered.
“Come to think of it, he did say something about that... But if that’s true... He truly is a monster.” Saitou said, verbalizing the terror surging up in his heart.
If that’s true, just what kind of life did he lead in Japan? This can’t be chalked up to just his personality or talent... It’s like he had always been ready for the moment he’d be summoned.
Compared to how Saitou was in his high school days, Ryoma Mikoshiba was far too unusual of a person.
A long, long silence fell over the room. Saitou stared intently at Sudou, who sat silently, deep in thought.
“Very well... Considering what went down, there’s quite a bit to mull over, but in the end, we’ll have to take a ‘wait and see’ approach with Mr. Mikoshiba.”
“Meaning?”
“Well, toying with him needlessly could very well end badly. I would have considered having the Hunting Dogs dispose of him if the situation permitted, but given how much awe he struck into you, I’ll inform the Organization that he is not to be approached carelessly... Your words have forced me to slightly reconsider things.”
The Hunting Dogs... The Organization’s elite force. He’d even considered sending out those monsters that surpass Rank S...
The level of force felt almost too excessive, considering it was all for the aim of killing one summoned boy. Sudou feigned composure, but it seemed the Organization saw this matter as one of vital importance.
Well, given how well the plan is progressing, it makes sense they’d want to eliminate any uncertain factors... But going that far?
Judging from Sudou’s words, the plan seemed to have changed.
“Whatever the case, now that he’s escaped the empire, the first thing he would do is seek a method to return to our world.”
Saitou nodded silently at Sudou’s words. Returning to their home, Earth, was the greatest dream of every member of the Organization. But they called it a dream because they knew it could never be... That was a truth Saitou and Sudou were all too bitterly aware of.
“Despair will soon descend upon our Mr. Mikoshiba, and once that happens, he will come to a parting of the ways. We can decide on how to handle him, depending on the choice he will make. I have no desire to needlessly antagonize such a promising, prospective young man, after all.”
“You’re considering recruiting him?”
“It’s hard to say at this point. It all depends on our good Mr. Mikoshiba, I suppose...” Sudou regarded his subordinate’s question with a smirk before changing the topic. “Well, leaving our young friend aside, let us discuss what comes next for us, shall we?”
“We’re moving away from the capital?”
“Yes, just as you’ve surmised. His Grace the Emperor himself has ordered us to expedite work on what Gaius was working on in preparation for the invasion of the Kingdom of Xarooda.”
“So you’re driving a wedge into the kingdom of Rhoadseria...” Saitou said, his expression changing at those words.
“Yes, and as such I’ll be away from the capital for a while. I’m actually quite looking forward to working on-site for once.” Sudou said, and raised his voice in jovial laughter.
Three travelers moved through the Dosh Desert, dirtied by its warm, billowing yellow sands. They were currently in the Kingdom of Helnesgoula, ruler of the north of the western continent. The Dosh Desert lay at its center, a land of sands and winds covering a tenth of the country’s surface. However, it was far from an infertile land where no vegetation grew, thanks to its countless oases and the Avul river that cut through the southern mountain range and flowed into the sea.
If nothing else, the land around those oases and the river allowed for the prosperous raising of crops and stock farming. And in addition, since trying to circumvent it only increased the journey by far too many needless days, a trade route was built across the desert. Cities were built around the oases dotting the land for the sake of the merchants, which flourished as relay points for trade.
Still, it was by no means a safe land. The cloaks the three travelers wore made it clear their journey was not an easy one.
�
��It should be right past that dune.” Laura pointed to the dune towering ahead of them, while shielding her eyes from the sunlight.
Beyond that dune was an oasis, and the city built around it was their destination. The town of Mireish, a local center of commerce and trade.
Using the trade through the Avul river, Mireish, which had deep connections with the cities sitting on the river’s mouth, boasted a prominent size even within the Kingdom of Helnesgoula. People naturally gathered where goods would gather; and where people gathered, information was abundant.
“Will she really be there? That woman...”
Removing the hood that shielded his eyes from the blowing sand, a virile man scoured the sky spreading out over the desert. His eyes were filled with a tragic light, borne of deep despair mixed with a flicker of hope.
His name was Ryoma Mikoshiba.
An unfortunate young man, plucked out of his ordinary life in Japan at the hands of the late court thaumaturgist Gaius Valkland of the Empire of O’ltormea, and summoned into this other world full of chaos.
“I’ll spare your time and cut to the chase. Sad as I am to say it, returning you to your old world is essentially impossible.”
The dim room was full of tomes covered in yellowing bindings. It was the very image of a scholar’s room. Ryoma stood in front of the desk, as there was no place to sit with how crammed with books the room was; he looked at the room’s owner with a clinging, pleading gaze as she mercilessly cut down his expectations.
The mistress of this room filled with moldy, somehow moist air was a woman clad from head to foot in linen. She looked to be in her mid thirties or forties, and her appearance seemed unremarkable overall. The same held true for her attire, which was the sort of plain outfit worn by commoners. If one had to point out anything remarkable about her, it was that her black, sleek hair was a bit conspicuous.
She looked to be a common individual, the type one could encounter anywhere. But this woman’s true value lay in something one wouldn’t be able to judge from her seedy appearance. Her true value lay in her intellect, in her vast knowledge that made her among the most knowledgeable ones in the continent when it came to thaumaturgy. That was what decided her value, and the reason Ryoma crossed a perilous desert to arrive in Mireish. To meet Annamaria, the woman known as “Mireish’s Recluse,” and find a way back home...
