by Mamare Touno
Isaac detested his tone.
“Leza!”
“Leave it to me!”
No sooner had he shouted than the elites of the Knights of the Black Sword, who had to have been stationed in an anteroom, rushed in. They scattered green light around, neutralizing the smoke and poison with magic, then began to guard the People of the Earth in the hall, who were screaming in terror.
It was true that cumulative poisons would affect even high-level opponents. Poisons had levels as well, and while low-ranking versions wouldn’t affect high-ranking opponents, cumulative types kept raising your “Poisoned” level by overwriting it. However, that was true only if you didn’t get detoxed partway through. Cumulative poisons were initially slow to act anyway, and there was no Knight of the Black Sword who would mess up a detox.
Confused fighting had broken out everywhere. To the People of the Earth, the assassins seemed to have significant combat skills. That earlier poison and their special items hinted at the presence of a specialized organization and training. However, the assassins seemed so powerful to the natives simply because they didn’t know otherwise. Levels over 90 and Adventurer equipment gave the Knights of the Black Sword capabilities that were just plain unfair.
Of course, that didn’t mean that developments were one-sided. This hall was filled with Eastal nobles and their families, which meant the Knights of the Black Sword were protecting those who weren’t nobles as well: the ladies-in-waiting, the knights, the merchants, all of them.
With a clang, a guild member’s sword struck an assassin’s shuriken out of the air.
Behind the vanguard, who wore dauntless smiles, Healers radiated detox auras. They weren’t able to exercise their full power, either. This wasn’t a dungeon, and if they used wide-range destruction spells or enormous summoning spells here, they’d cause massive secondary damage.
Still, even fighting defensively, their skills were overwhelming.
“This is going nowhere. Kill the boy!”
The assassins must have understood the difference in combat power as well. The group’s leader and a band of five individuals who seemed particularly skilled fell into formation, hiding one another, then rushed swiftly toward Isaac.
This wasn’t a normal formation in which they covered one another’s positions.
It was an offensive formation—or, more accurately, a formation geared toward surprise attacks—in which each member hid in the blind spots created by the others’ figures. A wishy-washy attack wouldn’t bother Isaac’s Armor of Divine Flame one bit, but Iselus, whom he’d flung over his shoulder, was different. In particular, if they used poison darts, nothing would be more of a pain. He could swear he wouldn’t let him die, but the day a stray arrow hit Iselus, there was no telling what kind of harassment he’d get from the maids.
With a ferocious smile, Isaac turned around, unleashed Merciless Strike as a parting gift, then set off running with Random Step.
“Iselus, don’t breathe that stuff. Just hang out up there a bit longer.”
“I can’t, Isaac the Young!”
As Isaac had expected, the pseudoninjas chased after him. Well, no, they were probably really after Iselus, on his shoulder. There were five of them. His earring was vibrating slightly, alerting him to hostility. There seemed to be several more of them lurking outside the hall as well.
Isaac had seen that coming. In the first place, he and the others had realized early on that spies were watching them. Shiroe had also warned them that the spies might be planning some sort of attack.
They probably could have caught a few of them. However, they hadn’t thought they’d be able to shut down their plan or see the whole of it that way. The Knights of the Black Sword was a large-scale guild specially designed for combat: Intrigue and urban espionage were outside their field of expertise.
For that reason, they’d decided to let them attack and round up the whole group at once. He didn’t think that had been a mistake. Every member of the ruling family had a guard covering them.
Isaac swung his right hand in a familiar gesture. He concentrated, sending the heat in his body flowing into his wrist. When he stuck his elbow out and accelerated it, it became Aura Saber. With a shock wave, the attack he’d activated carved a slash into one of the windows of the light-filled hall. With no hesitation, Isaac charged at it.
Shattering glass danced like a blizzard on the terrace outside.
Leaping out into the spring night, Isaac launched himself off the surface of the stone wall with a kick, heading for the parapet. For someone with an Adventurer’s physical capabilities, a distance of five or ten meters was nothing to worry about.
Castle Cinderella was a European castle with a medieval, or rather fantasy, silhouette. The main building and annexes, the parapet, ornamental corridors, and several towers with cone-shaped roofs that clustered around the central tower were distributed with complexity, nestling close to one another.
Today, because of the presentation, the castle town was in a festive mood. Unusually for a People of the Earth town, even now—after sundown—the broad avenue below him was crowded with shining orange lights.
With a noise that reverberated in his gut, flowers of light decorated the sky.
They were celebratory fireworks. With their light at his back, Isaac kicked the indigo roof and ran.
“Isaac the Young—”
“No talking, Iselus. You’ll bite your tongue.”
True, in order to break out of the hall, he’d had to pass through that suspicious smokescreen. Onslaught—the wind from his sword, which he’d unleashed in the darkness—should have dispersed some of the smoke in the hall, though. He’d leapt out onto the roof in order to avoid the poison’s effects.
“I mean, they said poison…”
“I’m fine. It tingles a little, that’s all.”
“But, Isaac the Young, you’re…”
“Guys shouldn’t think in circles like that.”
Even though he was in the middle of a fight, the feelings that filled him were strangely tranquil.
“Today is my debut. It’s the day I became an adult, so even I… No, I have to fight.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I mean, Isaac the Young, you’re…”
Well, that’s true, Isaac thought.
You’re an Adventurer. Was that how he was going to end that? Or was it, You’re going to disappear?
What a sharp kid. He was appallingly bright.
The windows of the presentation ceremony hall were being flung open or broken, one after another. The Knights of the Black Sword were probably letting the smoke out and beginning relief activities.
Up on his shoulder, Iselus had stiffened up and made himself as small as he could, so as not to get in the way. He’s a good candidate for lord, Isaac thought. The boy was desperately reining in his fear so that he wouldn’t get in Isaac’s way when he fought. He was planning to fight, too. Why? Was it aristocratic pride, or overconfidence?
No. It was because he’d said they were friends.
Because he’d gone and publically declared that he was friends with an Adventurer.
Even little kids cared about posturing like that. Because he was a guy. Not bad. Interesting, too. Isaac had been planning to think about it after he made the decision, but that wasn’t it. He’d already made the decision, so there was no need to think about it. Isaac’s country was wherever his friends were.
“En garde!”
“What’s that ‘en garde’ crap about, you damn loser?!”
A throwing knife whizzed toward him, and a Person of the Earth in a ninja outfit followed it—he’d knocked the guy flying. Since Isaac hadn’t been able to take a good stance in midair, the man spun around upon landing; he seemed to have escaped most of the damage. Almost immediately, he began pursuing Isaac anew.
A phantom crackling sound warned him of a new threat.
There were probably about ten of them. Pushing back the tail of his Round Table uniform, I
saac touched down in a courtyard.
When he looked up, Calasin was leaning out of a window on the spiral staircase, waving wildly and yelling. The distance between them was too great for him to make out the words. What is that guy, an idiot? Isaac thought. Just hit me with a telechat. Still, he could tell what he was trying to say from his gestures and expression. They’d probably secured the hall.
From what he could see, he’d managed to draw the attackers’ best people here with him.
Ordinarily, this place might have been used for garden parties: Neatly pruned trees surrounded a three-dimensional, terraced garden. A lawn covered its center, and Isaac lowered Iselus from his shoulder to the grass. At that, although there was no telling what had gotten him so psyched up, an excited assassin charged at them, brandishing a sword.
A glare from Isaac was enough to make him falter; as he took the last step, he was moving a little uncertainly, and Iselus caught the sword with the dagger he wore at his waist. The dagger rang cleanly, protecting the boy. It was an Akiba-made piece, and there wasn’t a single chip in the blade.
Isaac was impressed that he’d caught the strike, even though there was bound to be a great level difference. Even if the equipment was good, that was really something.
However, weight was an element that was completely different from technique and fighting spirit.
Unable to completely absorb the impact, Iselus fell, rolling over and over on the grass. Isaac had known that was coming, so he caught him by the collar and casually set him back on his feet. He’d let him do it because he’d been where he could see him, and as it turned out, Iselus really did have a feel for this. Today was his official debut. He wouldn’t be satisfied unless he got to swing his sword around a bit. After all, Iselus had taken his first step into the world of men.
“He’s tough!”
“No, the smoke bomb has to have weakened him! Use the Hakko formation!”
“He can’t move anymore. Circle him several fighters deep and finish him off!”
The attackers surrounded them, swords at the ready. The lawn was wide, with no obstacles on it, and Isaac and Iselus just stood in the middle of it, illuminated by the thundering fireworks. Viewed logically, the attackers who’d surrounded them had an overwhelming advantage. Their tactical decision had been the right one. If Isaac had been level 50 or so, like they were, he probably would have been done for.
However, Isaac had a retort:
“You guys must be idiots.”
These guys really are genuine morons.
The way they thought numbers like theirs would be enough to break “Black Sword” Isaac was truly hopeless.
Only idiots didn’t know what it was they were taking part in.
Only idiots purposefully grew fox ears.
Was that why they had no choice but to get their hands dirty with a job like this?
The Knights of the Black Sword were a group of morons. They were dumb, all of them. Watching them running around and around that grassy hill with the People of the Earth, he’d sometimes thought, What’re you guys, a pig farm? Since they were turning in and rising early, they’d started eating and drinking twice as much, and the way they howled for “Fried rockfish, fried rockfish” was dumb, too. When he’d seen them putting together a plan to all chip in money and buy princess figures as a group, he’d wondered whether they’d soared past “dumb” and achieved “crazy.”
It was weird they thought “half killing” somebody meant knocking their HP down to the halfway mark, and when they’d called recovering half of that damage “half healing,” it had made his head hurt. Doing that would leave 25 percent of the damage unhealed. They were completely hopeless idiots.
Even then, though, they were way better than these pathetic attackers. Who’d ordered a thing like this?
“Black Sword of Pain.”
“Wh-what are these chains?!”
Isaac had swung his dark, steel-colored sword sideways in a horizontal slash, and with a creaking noise, translucent chains had flown out. The chains scattered in all directions, writhing, and burrowed into the ground. Using the ground itself as an anchor, they wound around the attackers, trapping them.
Anchor Howl was a basic Guardian special skill, used to concentrate aggro and hold the enemy in place, and Isaac’s black sword reinforced it.
“They’re your aggro. I’m limiting your freedom.”
Eyes glittering, Isaac threatened the fox-eared attackers.
From the information Calasin had given him, he knew who they really were: intelligence operatives from the Holy Empire of Westlande. Foxtails were a small, new race, and they didn’t have much power in Westlande. Frankly, they were treated like slaves. That was why they’d been used as what amounted to suicide bombers on a one-way mission like this one.
These guys probably have their own stories and issues, but…
Isaac found this intensely irritating.
“…that doesn’t mean you can swing a sword at a kid and act like you’ve accomplished something!”
“Isaac the Young, don’t!”
He didn’t use a sword technique. He swung the Black Sword of Pain all the way through, with all his might. He wasn’t swinging it like a sword, either. He swung it like a baseball bat, sweeping all the attackers away with the flat of the blade.
Isaac had enough power to do that. He had no idea whether it was the right move. That was something for Shiroe and Krusty to think about. Isaac wouldn’t do anything agonizing. He would only walk in directions that made him feel better. He’d decided that a long time ago.
“Hmph!”
For that reason, he just snorted at Iselus, who looked worried.
The attackers had all fallen to the ground, unconscious.
If he was just beating them back, fine, but Isaac didn’t intend to take their lives. That was what their aggro and luring them out here had been for. Isaac was a Guardian, and he’d only fought as Guardians naturally fought: by taking the enemy’s attacks, keeping them pinned down, and protecting his companions.
The cleanup work was probably a job for the People of the Earth. He wanted nothing to do with quarrels among aristocrats. If you thought of it as fighting over a spot to do business, it sort of made sense, but Isaac’s brain wasn’t suited to tracking down criminals.
“Oh, good.”
“No, it ain’t good.”
Iselus was smiling brightly, and as he responded, Isaac’s mouth twisted crossly. Iselus beamed at him. Fireworks shot up into the sky, one after another.
The kid’s just genuinely happy that I didn’t get hurt, Isaac thought.
He might not have realized that he was at the center of the uproar or that they’d been after his life. Well, no, there was no way he wouldn’t have noticed that: They’d been yelling stuff about “getting the kid.” In that case, he was pretty tough.
At any rate, the assassins who’d attacked Maihama had been driven off. If they questioned the ones they’d captured, future developments would probably be a bit better.
“Hey, Iselus.”
“Yes, Isaac the Young?”
“Back where I’m from, you’re an adult when you hit eighteen.”
Official adulthood started at twenty, but whatever. Isaac had been about that old when he’d started working.
There was another enormous explosion. Sparks sifted down. Golden flowers bloomed in the night sky, then, glittering, rained down over the earth.
“Is that so? I suppose I still have a long way to go, then.”
With the night sky and its bursting, sparkling fireworks behind them, Isaac stuck his fingers into the dejected Iselus’s hair and shook his head roughly.
“Well, I’ll hang out with you until then.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll be your friend.”
Iselus didn’t understand what he’d just been told. Then it sank in; his head snapped up, and he broke into a brilliant smile. The kid was easy to read.
Still, this had been one c
razy presentation event. He could see people hurrying in and out of the venue, and he spotted the Glass Greaves as well. They were probably securing the assassins.
That’s the problem with the upper class, Isaac thought, shrugging. Iselus pulled at his hand.
“We need to go back to my grandfather, Isaac the Young.”
“Yeah, don’t rush me. The place is probably trashed; let’s wait till they’re done cleaning up.”
“Are you planning to play hooky?”
“No. I just don’t want to cause trouble for the maids.”
“But there are lots of maids who want to take care of you, Isaac the Young.”
“Like heck there are.”
“What? There’s even a shift for when you take naps!”
As Isaac joked around with little Iselus, an alarm that was shriller and sharper than anything else he’d heard that night reached his ears.
Instantly, Isaac’s tension returned. He listened hard.
Was there something lurking there, hiding in the sound of the fireworks? Isaac looked around the area. All he saw were flecks of golden light, shining like flames. Guided by a premonition he couldn’t put into words, Isaac looked up.
He watched, lips drawn and tense, as the sparks poured down over Maihama.
Countless points of light were approaching, scattering sparks, as if the Milky Way were overflowing. So many status windows were popping up that the noise was almost unbroken. The shining points were monsters.
Thousands upon thousands of flying menaces had invaded Maihama and Yamato.
1
All across Yamato, gleaming scales poured down through the darkness.
Into the spring night, the shining stream that had seemingly descended from the red moon released its venomous flow. Those who breathed in the dust felt only a little dizzy, but the People of the Earth who were attacked by the moths lost consciousness and didn’t wake again.
More than anything, the enormous creatures that glided down from the sky bred terror.
