by Mamare Touno
“Ah-ha, that’s great. Advance, and stay on guard.”
Mizufa issued orders to the two Arcanemancers who were seated in the engineers’ seats two steps below.
“The Nightshade Servants sent ahead as scouts have been brought to a standstill by a moving body of water we believe to be the upper reaches of the Favorwell River.”
“Hm.” Mizufa glanced at a military map that was posted on the wall.
The car, which was rocking only slightly, held a variety of maps, documents, and files. Mizufa liked taking command in the field and letting her saber drink blood, but she was well aware that, now that she was a high-ranking general, these were her weapons as well.
“The Favorwell River, hm? This area is—”
She licked her shapely lips, narrowing her eyes as she skimmed the detailed notes that had been written in. The black triple claw marked wyvern habitats.
Their levels were ideal, and in addition, they were a perfect check on the neighboring residential areas.
A kaleidoscope of strategies ran through Mizufa’s mind. Each one was a blood-scented dream, as red as a spider lily.
The Adventurers might be good people, but Mizufa was under no obligation to imitate them. Either way, Yamato was headed for troubled times. The Holy Empire of Westlande was the only governing organization to have retained the bloodline of the Ancient Dynasty of Westlande into the present day.
Which made Eastal, the League of Free Cities, an enemy of the emperor.
Of course, Mizufa didn’t believe any of this. She just needed the pretext. It meant that this was now a world where a soldier like Mizufa could rise to the top through military exploits. As a rule, soldiers ranked low among the nobility of Westlande, which tended to favor terms like “elegance” and “singing and dancing.” She had to grab the few chances she could get.
In addition, Mizufa knew that her own merit bloomed on top of blood.
Or rather, she’d gotten drunk on blood. Even she no longer knew whether she wanted military achievements or the simple scent of blood.
“Wyverns, hm… The load’s too heavy for just the Servants, but… I see. Keh-heh-heh. The Odysseia Knights were around here, weren’t they?”
Silence filled the car.
“Issue subjugation orders to the Nightshade Servants. Notify the sergeants as well.”
The message was immediately relayed to the rearward armored carriages via the Directives Crystal.
On receiving the order, in the rear cars, more than a hundred People of the Earth donned black masks and fell into a false sleep in cramped beds that looked like lidless coffins. The Servant Summoning Gems that were linked to sockets on each bed glowed eerily.
These jewels summoned Nightshade Servants, which were projections of the casters’ minds.
In a way, this was the equivalent of giving People of the Earth additional bodies. As they lay here, in beds on the train, they acquired monster bodies that could move freely. Nightshade Servants manifested with levels that were equal to the levels of the caster who’d summoned them, but it wasn’t possible to break past the upper limit of 45.
To the Adventurers, the magic items were probably trivial, with laughable military potential. In fact, the Adventurers who’d provided them had given them up so easily they might as well have been joke items.
However, if you asked Mizufa, they were nothing of the sort. These items granted People of the Earth temporary immortality.
Even if the Nightshade Servants were defeated, the People of the Earth were lying in bed and took no damage. Not only that, but any experience points earned in battle went to the casters; in other words, to the People of the Earth.
You really couldn’t help but laugh. It really was ridiculous; an earth-shattering magic item.
“In ten minutes, start administering the EXP Potions.”
These potions doubled the efficiency with which experience points were acquired. Taken orally, they was inefficient. Injecting them directly probably made the burden greater, but it visibly increased their effect.
“Lord Kazuhiko is requesting that we stop all inhumane devices.”
“Nobody cares. That hypocrite… He’s an Adventurer; we’re People of the Earth. What does a man who can’t die know about war? Now is the time for us to sacrifice our lives. Isn’t that right?”
Mizufa smiled. It was a dark smile.
The lives that would be sacrificed didn’t belong to her. They were weapons that were needed in order to harvest more flowers.
“The advance unit has made contact with the enemy,” a tense operator communicated to them in a low voice.
Mizufa kept her cool, waiting for further reports. Then news of a wyvern sighting came in.
Tensing her lips, which had curved up involuntarily, Mizufa softly stroked the pommel of her sword.
“Advance unit, charge! Drive the wyverns out of the mountains! Tell them to get some distance, then focus on magic attacks. Chase them into the town. Then the Odysseia death-wish crowd will help with the hunt! Tell them it’s our time to really rake it in.”
They’d found an ideal hunting ground. In Adventurer terms, would this be called “power leveling”? Mizufa would have called it a military drill. In order to temper steel weapons, one had to sharpen the red-hot blades with blood.
“Send in the troops. Put Companies Six and Seven into the war zone, as well as Company Five on direct guard duty!”
“What should we do about guarding the train, ma’am?”
“Have Rondarg watch the area. Or, well, no, ask him to.”
“Contacting Lord Rondarg. —Speaking tube!”
The order was relayed to an Adventurer who was riding nearby, not in a cart, but on a Phantom Steed.
“…Even Rondarg gets called ‘Lord’ if he’s an Adventurer, hm?”
As Mizufa murmured, one of the communications officers turned to look up at her.
The lady general’s lips twisted. “No need to relay that. I’m just talking to myself.” She took a swallow of wine. The man was a failure who’d wandered down to them from Susukino, but it made him suitable for the dirty, low-ranking jobs. She almost felt like thanking him for it.
Rats have their own nesting places. She thought that was an apt phrase.
As Mizufa laughed, in high spirits, the secret units of the Holy Empire of Westlande were rapidly deployed to central Yamato under her command.
By curious coincidence, the territory of Mizufa’s longed-for Crimson Night included the town of Saphir, where Minori’s group was heading. However, at this point, not even Mizufa knew what that meant.
4
At the merchants’ request, Serara and the others had carried some of the cargo to the mountain fortress of Boxroot, then relinquished their loads and gone on ahead. Dariella, the Person of the Earth, rode in their cart with them.
Having lost one of their carts, the merchants no longer had the leeway to take her along, and while the highway was comparatively safe, this was true only for seasoned travelers and Adventurers, not People of the Earth women who were traveling alone.
It had been decided that they’d give her a ride to Saphir, their current destination.
Saphir was one of the places where Serara and the others had always meant to stop. It was a relatively prosperous city on the highway that ran west from Akiba, and they’d been planning to soothe the fatigue of their journey there since before their departure.
The cart traveled over stone-flagged ways covered with damp moss, slippery red clay tracks, and chilly ridge-top roads covered by arches of deep green. They went slowly. On mountain roads like this, the Pale Horse’s strength wasn’t much help. If they drove as fast as they could, they could easily end up with an accident on their hands.
Serara and the group advanced over the winding mountain road, traveling no faster than a person could walk.
Somewhere, she could hear a bird twittering. It sounded a little like a pipe, and as she walked, she strained her ears to listen. When she g
lanced at Minori, who was walking beside her, she seemed to be looking for the bird, too. She looked around and saw her wolf watching a bird that was about the size of a hot dog bun and had yellow lines on its blue wings. The bird called one more time.
Glad that she’d managed to find it, she tugged at Minori’s sleeve to tell her, but apparently the other girl had seen it as well. The pair looked at each other and smiled.
Thanks to that, Serara visibly relaxed.
The Odysseia Knights had been at the mountain fortress the group had passed, too.
From what Dariella said, they weren’t that unusual in this area of Yamato. They fought to protect People of the Earth villages and towns, risking their lives, and they were highly respected. The knights were a stern, vaguely dreary group, but they were courteous and high-minded, and their equipment was excellent. When she heard this, Serara thought it was probably true.
Still, the Odysseia Knights seemed to have made Minori, Touya, and the rest a little uncomfortable as well.
She knew this because ever since they’d crossed paths in the mountain pass, the atmosphere had been tense and prickly. Still, several hours had passed, and the mood had finally managed to relax. I’ll have to thank that blue bird, Serara thought.
Technically, according to their itinerary, they’d meant to spend a night at the mountain fortress, since the fort had lodging facilities for travelers.
However, the group had spent the night in that open area in the mountains, and they’d passed the fortress before noon, so they’d missed their chance.
“Minori,” Serara asked, “we’re camping again tonight, aren’t we?”
“I think so. There aren’t any good towns to stop at in this area.”
“What about tomorrow?”
“We should reach Fuji fairly early. When we do, let’s stay the night there.”
“Yes, let’s.”
Serara beamed as she agreed.
She’d confirmed that their itinerary was what she’d expected it to be, and she was happy that, as usual, Minori had given careful thought to that side of things as well.
At last the mountain road ended, and the way gradually grew wider. It still sloped, but gently, and the dense woods progressively became a mixed forest. The view from the road opened up, and they could see Mount Fuji clearly. Serara didn’t know what its name was in this other world, but it was Japan’s most famous mountain, snowcapped and very familiar.
“It’s Mount Fuji.”
“Ah, indeed it is. That’s Sacred Mount Fuji.”
Touya and Rundelhaus were talking loudly, as if in high spirits.
Serara was feeling vaguely excited, too. If you lived in Japan, you saw Mount Fuji at least once a month on the WebTV weather forecast, and as a matter of fact, when the weather was good, the mountain in the distance was visible from Serara’s city. It wasn’t unusual enough to make a fuss over, and come to think of it, this was another world, so it wasn’t the real Mount Fuji anyway.
Even so, it felt like a special mountain. Was it because they were Japanese? Serara didn’t really know, but when Isuzu said, “Now it feels like we’re traveling!” she had to agree. It really did feel like that.
In the early afternoon, they began to hear a low sound, as if the wind were blowing past them, and before long, they came out on the coast. It wasn’t a white, sandy beach. It was covered with pebbles about the size of the tip of Serara’s little finger, but even so, the blue-gray sea was there.
The coast sketched an extremely gentle curve that stretched in the direction their group was traveling.
The highway ran parallel to the coast, and there was no clear border between the road and the gravelly beach here. The only markers were the pine groves that dotted the area, providing erosion control.
The ocean was calm, and they saw several boats floating on it. They might have been People of the Earth fishermen.
“It looks like Choushi.”
“The coast seems rougher here, though.”
Serara and Minori compared impressions, then hastily glanced around for any sign of sahuagins.
Of course, fortunately, there were no such monsters here, and the two of them were left to smile at each other.
“Now that we’ve come this far, it’s only a little farther to Saphir,” Minori said. “Have you spent the night there before, Miss Dariella?”
“Yes, a few times. It is on my way home.”
“We’ll be there tomorrow, won’t we?” Minori continued. “If we hurry, I suppose we could reach it late tonight, but…”
At Minori’s words, Serara and the others all shook their heads in unison: No recklessness. That was another lesson their travels had taught them.
However, that did mean they’d need to camp today. Serara glanced at the sky, trying to gauge its mood. In its upper reaches, the wind looked strong, but the air was clear, and the weather didn’t seem likely to deteriorate. That meant camping wouldn’t be very difficult. Naturally, staying on the coast would be too scary; it would be better to go a bit farther inland, find a grove of trees, and stay there. From what she’d seen, there seemed to be lots of mixed groves that could serve as windbreaks.
That said, since the road they were traveling on was by the coast, it was flat and easy to walk on, and there were all sorts of likely-looking campsites. This made things tricky, and while they hesitated, evening might creep up on them.
“If that happens, I won’t be able to make dinner…”
Serara was thinking in circles.
She’d volunteered for dinner duty, but no matter what they did, cooking on the road was hard.
Before they’d left, Serara had stuck close to Nyanta and learned all sorts of things from him, but when it came time to put them into practice, she couldn’t manage half her ideal menu.
Outdoors, where she didn’t even have a flat cutting board, things never went as well for her as they did in a kitchen.
All the food she managed to make was dismal, and it made her feel bad.
As a matter of fact, her worry was fairly off base. Among People of the Earth, “travel rations” meant leaden, hard-baked bread, plus diluted wine or mead.
The soup or okonomiyaki Serara and the others made each time they camped belonged entirely to Adventurer culture, and they weren’t the norm in this world. In particular, the group had lived close to Captain Nyanta—a Chef who could make a success even of cooking outdoors—ever since the Catastrophe, and it had skewed their idea of what was normal. That was all there was to it.
“Pasta soup, maybe?”
Turning red, Serara murmured it quietly.
If she used vegetables, dried meat and the bottled soup base she’d purchased in Eat-Till-You-Drop Alley to make soup, then added some leaf-shaped pasta, the result would probably be filling. Then, she thought, if she attempted an apple and mayonnaise salad, although it would be a little sour, she might manage to make it presentable.
Still, she sighed. “I wonder if making just one dish looks lazy…”
“No, not at all. Hot soup is delicious.”
Beside her, Minori tried to encourage her.
Serara smiled, feeling a little wretched. Her desire to work as hard as Nyanta was so great that it would have taken several baseball stadiums to measure it; however, since their group didn’t have Magic Bags, they could only carry around limited amounts of ingredients and seasonings, and when cooking outside, it often took a lot of work to maintain the prep site and the heat source.
When she tried to do anything mildly complicated, Serara easily fell apart and failed. Since she had New Wife’s Apron with Nyanta Appliqué equipped, she couldn’t even excuse herself by saying that her subclass was Housekeeper.
“All of you get along so well.”
As Minori tried to cheer up the distressed Serara, Dariella spoke to them with a gentle expression.
“We’re friends, you see.”
“Yep, it’s ’cos we’re friends!”
In response to Minori�
�s prompt answer, Isuzu, who’d been walking up ahead, turned around and shouted back in agreement.
“Are you from the same guild?” Dariella asked.
“No. Mine is different,” Serara answered.
We are friends, though. The feeling made her puff out her chest with pride.
“Serara’s a member of the Crescent Moon League,” Minori offered. “We belong to a guild called Log Horizon.”
“Um. I’m not with a guild. I’m a traveling Vampanella.” From the driver’s seat, Roe2 put her two cents in as well.
“If you don’t mind, may I ask…? Why are you going to Minami?”
“We aren’t going there. We’re going partway, so we can hunt wyverns in the Redstone Mountains.” Touya was the one who answered Dariella’s question this time.
“My! Wyverns? Those are monsters that occasionally come down into the villages.”
“Are they, Minori?” Touya asked.
“Shiroe said that that sort of thing did happen sometimes.”
Serara tilted her head, thinking.
According to Minori’s drawing, wyverns seemed to be shaped like paper airplanes that had sprouted arms and legs. If they could fly, they certainly might come down to settled areas.
“We’re also on tour, I guess.”
It was Isuzu who’d spoken; at some point, she’d dropped back from the front of the group.
“On…tour?” Dariella asked.
“What’s that?” Roe2 added.
“Come to think of it, you haven’t seen us, either, have you, Roe2?” Fretting over how to explain it, Serara looked at Isuzu, asking for help.
Isuzu lifted the spear she was using as a walking stick, cradling it to her chest, then mimed strumming it the way she’d strum a lute and winked. “We’re going around performing.”
“Isuzu is a Bard, you know,” Serara said.
“Eh-heh-heh-heh. Mostly I’m just an amateur.”
“My, my. You play music?”
Dariella’s impressed cry seemed to have put Isuzu in a good mood; she took a few light, dancing steps and twirled.
“I may not look like it, but at Bloom Hall in Akiba, they call me a rock ’n’ roller.”
