WorldEnd: What Do You Do at the End of the World? Are You Busy? Will You Save Us?, Vol. 3

by Akira Kareno

  “That’s one choice you have. I’m serious. We live clinging to our hearts and souls, but you’re going to lose that foundation entirely. It’ll be a lot harder than you can imagine.”

  “Yeah…”

  She buried her face in her knees.

  The girl sitting beside her wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

  “What’s wrong, Ithea?”

  “The wind is strong, and I’m cold. I’ve got low body temp, and I’m not like Nephren, so please forgive me.”

  “…Ah-ha.” A small laugh naturally spilled forth. “Thanks for the chat. You’re pretty warm, though.”

  “Great. It was worth it living till today then, huh.”

  So that’s what it was.

  She didn’t know if it was a phenomenon that was happening as a result of a series of coincidences or if it was happening because someone else intended it to. But past-life encroachment was, in the end, real encroachment—even possibly an invasion.

  Her self would be undermined, her heart broken, her memories pruned, her spirit killed…and her past life’s spirit, revived through the process of being remembered, would come back and snatch up the physical body she left behind. And none of that had anything to do with her past life’s wishes at all—it all progressed and concluded automatically.

  There was no miracle of love here.

  Even if there was, time would soon be running out.

  The girl named Chtholly Nota Seniorious would soon disappear.

  “You keeping it a secret from the officer, then?”

  “Yeah. He’d get worried if he found out about this.”

  “Well, why not make him worry? You’ve got that right, y’know.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about it. But if she told him, then she would end up spending the very little time she had left looking at his strained expression.

  She wanted him to think fondly of her.

  But she didn’t want him to cry for her.

  It wasn’t like she wanted him to look at her as someone with the added value of being a tragic heroine.

  “I want to be happy just a little longer. And I want him to be happy, too… I guess.”

  “Uh-huh,” the girl said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “That annoying I’m so in love! appeal of yours tells me you’re still no one else but Chtholly, at least.”

  “That’s how you can tell? Sheesh.”

  The two exchanged glances and smiled sadly at each other.

  “At the very least, under no circumstances should you use your magic,” the girl beside her spoke with an absent voice. “Of course, I am me, and you are you. Faeries are, no doubt, a result of a fantasy. The literal only thing they have in common with one another is being the product of souls of children who died too young. Both you and I are the same race but, at the same time, completely different. It doesn’t mean we operate under the same logic. But still, I have this much advice for you.”

  “Okay.” Chtholly nodded.

  “You must absolutely never touch a dug weapon. If you want to stick around any longer, that’s the least you can do.”

  “Okay… I won’t. Thank you, Ithea.”

  “By the way, you haven’t asked what my real name is, right? Or who I really am?”

  Chtholly had thought it would be a strange thing to ask.

  “You’re Ithea, too, aren’t you? You’re bright, nosy, get so involved in everything around you it’s annoying, and yet not honest at all.” She lightly poked Ithea’s nose with the tip of her finger. “You’re an important colleague of ours—a friend. You don’t look like anyone else to me.”

  “Ba-ha-ha-ha, I appreciate it.”

  She couldn’t trust Ithea’s smile. Almost everyone who lived in the faerie warehouse felt the same way. No one could entirely believe the expressions of someone who, whether she was happy or sad, angry or perplexed, was always smiling.

  But.

  Chtholly thought it was probably okay to trust her. It was a little different this time.

  A teardrop sat at the corner of Ithea’s eye, glinting slightly as it reflected the lantern’s wavering light.

  2. A Girl’s Crush and a Woman in Love

  He had a terrible dream.

  In his dream, the master, Navrutri, and His Majesty the Emperor all sat together, drinking.

  All three of them were extreme in their treatment of women, each in different ways. And so, of course, they seasoned their drinks with talk of women.

  The master, who was nothing but an old pervert, spoke candidly about boobs and butts; Navrutri, who claimed he had lovers in every city he visited (which was probably true), retold his memories of a beautiful woman he met in the Sands Federation; the Emperor, known for playing around with all his ladies-in-waiting (and for being a henpecked husband), mentioned the innocence of one of the new maids, his eyes hazy like those of a teenage boy in a daydream.

  I don’t want anything to do with this.

  The second that thought crossed his mind, the three reached out to grab his shoulder.

  “Let’s hear your story, too,” Navrutri said, his voice needlessly sweet.

  “I know you have things to confess,” the master said, pressuring him with a sickening smile.

  “Oh, I do believe I heard you were spending some time alone with my niece the other day,” the Emperor said, pressuring him about something outrageous.

  “Wait, I have my daily training to go to right now—” He tried to run, but he couldn’t. They pinned him down and poured glass after glass of alcohol down his throat, and his consciousness soon went hazy, his mouth began to move on its own, and he started to name the names of all the girls around—

  “—Officer. Hello, Officer! Why’re you sleeping here?”

  He heard a voice, and Second Officer Willem Kmetsch awoke.

  He spun his head around, getting his bearings.

  The first thing he noticed was a huge, unorganized stack of paper. The next thing he saw was a huge, unorganized stack of paper. To his right and left and above him and below him, no matter where he looked, all he could see were the same things.

  To put it simply, this was the material room.

  “You weren’t in your room, so I was wondering where you might be, but here you are! Of all places.”

  “…Oh, Ithea.”

  The girl with straw-colored hair planted her hands on her hips in frustration.

  “Yeees, ’tis me, Ithea Myse Valgulious, at your service. By the way, if you don’t head to the dining hall now, there won’t be any breakfast later.”

  “Oh…”

  For the first time in a while, he wanted to tidy up the room.

  But sure enough, the troubles in this vast voyage mounted one after the other, and he completely lost track of when he should take a break, much less what sort of information he should be fishing for. Then, before he knew it, he’d fallen asleep on the couch.

  “I wouldn’t want to miss a meal, that’s for sure.”

  He stood up.

  A small girl rolled off the sofa.

  “…Ow.”

  A girl with ashen-colored hair sat up as she complained disinterestedly.

  “Oh, I thought it was pretty warm. So you were my blanket, Nephren.”

  “Yes. It’s cold out now, and I don’t want you getting sick.”

  That made a lot of sense, and he honestly appreciated it.

  “Thanks… And why are you sleeping here, too?”

  “Well. It’s cold out now, and I don’t want to get sick.”

  But that didn’t make much sense, and he probably shouldn’t take it at face value.

  “Collon came down with a fever yesterday, and she’s been sleeping ever since, and both Tiat and Almita have started sneezing. I think we’ve come to the season where if we’re not careful, we’ll catch it, too.”

  “I appreciate the consideration, but if you’re gonna sleep anywhere, sleep in your own room.” He lightly poked her
forehead.

  Ithea watched the exchange quietly, her eyelids drooping to the point that they were almost closed.

  “This would look super inappropriate if I saw this out of context, so why doesn’t it look that way?”

  “It’s ’cause your mind hasn’t been totally tainted yet, that’s why.”

  Ithea tilted her head as if to say, “Should I be happy about that?” “Nephren,” she added. “He’s pretty much just treating you like a pet. Are you okay with that?”

  “Emotional support is important. I believe it’s a worthwhile responsibility.”

  “I see.”

  Now that honestly made sense.

  “…C’mon, let’s go get some breakfast.”

  Nephren sleepily rubbed her eyes, and Willem pulled her up.

  “Oh, right— Officer, how’s Chtholly doing?”

  “What do you mean by how?”

  “I was just wondering how she felt after being on the receiving end of such passionate charm. I guess she’s not as unhappy as we thought, then?”

  “I’m not gonna say no, but it’s none of your business.”

  “Oh.” She looked surprised. “So you do have some heart for her?”

  “My heart’s been pounding from the start. I’m not a crusty old man or some pervert with peculiar interests. You think there’s some young guy out there who won’t get excited when a cute girl likes him? But I still can’t accept her, so I’m trying my hardest to throw her off, y’know?”

  “Huh.”

  …What the hell was he talking about?

  His mouth was running off in strange directions thanks to the weird dream he had. He sensed going any further would be dangerous territory, so he clammed up.

  “Don’t tell her” was all he added with a groan.

  “You were sleeping with Nephren?!”

  The question came as he was walking down the hall, and someone suddenly grabbed his ear.

  He gritted his teeth through the pain and turned around, and standing there was a girl with cerulean—no, cerulean and red hair. Chtholly wore a visibly cross expression and looked up at him with wide, angry eyes, glaring sharply into his own.

  It was somehow honestly frightening.

  “Sheesh, you too?”

  He tapped the hand that was holding his ear, urging her to let go.

  “Can you not say it like that for everyone to hear? What’s wrong with an adult and a child snoozing happily under the same blanket?”

  “You’re not older by enough years to be considered an adult.”

  “Ha! I know I look young, but y’know I was actually born over five hundred years ago, right?”

  “I know. And I’ve heard you spent most of those five hundred years sleeping. That excuse isn’t effective enough for you to look at me with that gotcha! face of yours.”

  Urgh. Really? He was a bit shocked precisely because he felt so confident.

  “Well, I can’t imagine you were the one who invited her in, so I think that Nephren probably crawled in on her own.”

  That was obvious.

  “But I still don’t get it. You were so confident you’d avoided so many bloodbaths in the past, right? So why didn’t you notice when she came right up to you? Why’d you tell me you could avoid being stabbed in your sleep?”

  “They’re two completely different things. All I can sniff out are enemies. I’m not gonna be wary of people who aren’t hostile to me—come on.”

  “Then let me ask you this—if that was Nygglatho, what would you have done?”

  “Thrown her out the window in two seconds,” he responded quickly and confidently.

  That was the obvious choice. Letting a troll—and one who had previously declared her appetite for him with gusto, at that—get up close and personal with him would be like asking for certain death.

  “See? You’d treat her differently than you did Nephren.”

  “No wait you can’t talk about them like they’re the same because even if there’s no hostility I’ll still respond if there’s danger sheesh I don’t want to die okay and even if that troll isn’t hostile she still has this like general aggressiveness so I really need to be aware of that okay?”

  “You sound suspicious when you talk fast like that.”

  “…What do you want me to do?” He dropped his shoulders, disheartened.

  “Then let me ask you another thing. What would you have done if it was me?”

  “Of course—” He thought for a moment. He was sure things would get more complicated if he gave a careless answer, and that would be even more so if he asked her to test it out with him. “—I’d chase you out, wouldn’t I?”

  He thought she would get angry.

  He thought she would say, “So Nephren’s fine, but I’m not?”

  “Hmm.”

  While Chtholly seemed upset, she didn’t pursue the question and let go of the grip she had on Willem’s ear.

  “You behave now. You know it’ll be big trouble if the little ones start copying her.”

  “Y-yeah?”

  She gave his back a light smack and trotted off down the hallway.

  What was that all about?

  Willem cocked his head, not quite understanding the situation.

  He was used to dealing with kids, not women. Thanks to the combination of the two, he never knew—not now, not back when—how to treat adolescent girls.

  But there was one thing he had a hunch about.

  “…She’s pushing herself over something, isn’t she?”

  He wasn’t very confident about that, though.

  That was the impression he got from her when she acted like things were normal.

  Today was another day for the faerie warehouse managerial meeting in Nygglatho’s room.

  Fresh scones rested on a plate. Three kinds of jam sat out, ready for spreading. The kettle sat over the fire, a healthy bubbling sound coming from inside.

  “…How’s Collon’s cold doing?”

  “I don’t think we’re in the clear just yet. Her fever has started to go down, but it’s still high. I’ll be going into town tomorrow to get some medicine.”

  “Okay… If she starts having bad dreams and trouble sleeping at night, put this under her pillow,” Willem said and placed a small piece of metal on the table, just the perfect size to fit in someone’s palm.

  It didn’t seem decorative at all—just a metal lump.

  “What’s this?”

  “An old talisman that prevents nightmares that result from illness. On its own, it’s not restricted to any particular race, and it doesn’t need activated venenum to work. Just put it under a pillow, and it’ll do its thing.”

  “…Did you always have something this useful?”

  “I never had it. It’s warehouse equipment.”

  Nygglatho furrowed her brows. “Wait a moment. I should know about this if it’s warehouse equipment. And I highly doubt a talisman so valuable, one that anyone can use and has function unrelated to battle, could make it through the budget.”

  “You knew it was here; you just didn’t know what its function was.” He tapped the piece of metal. “It’s one of the pieces that sits in the middle of the blade to make up Seniorious.”

  “What?”

  “I told you before, right? The Carillon are collections of wishes, a group of twenty-three or more talismans, tied together by veins of enchantment. That’s why they’re called carillon. So basically, if you undo the ties and pull them apart, one sword would become at least twenty-three different talismans. And Seniorious, by the way, is forty-one pieces.”

  “Seni…orious?”

  “The other forty talismans are weirdly unusable, so I just left them in storage. Like, when are you gonna use a talisman for ‘Blades unequipped with magic won’t cut deep’ or ‘Makes a sound if the holder calls themselves by anything other than their real name’?”

  “Put it back right now!!”

  She slammed her hands on the table.

  T
he teacups rattled precariously, but by some miracle, none of them spilled.

  “Do you even understand what those Carillon—the dug weapons are?! They are the ultimate weapons that have literally kept Regule Aire afloat! And Seniorious is the most precious and important of these weapons!!”

  “Yeah, I know.” He nodded.

  He was even confident that he was the one who knew Seniorious best in this world right now, in both a good and bad way.

  “Then you should know better! You can’t just tear the sword apart and use it as this—this little charm with a cute little trick! There’s an order of priority to things, you know?!”

  “Ha-ha. I was wondering what you were gonna say.” He snorted. “A good night’s sleep for Collon tonight is much more important than the fate of the world, right?”

  “The entire meaning of the warehouse’s existence will crumble from its roots if you say that again!” She clung to her head and squirmed.

  “Well, that was eighty percent a joke, obviously. I’m at least trying to have good timing here. There aren’t any enemy attacks coming soon, and it’s not like Seniorious’s compatible user can wield a Carillon in her current state. It won’t be finding its way into battle for a while, yeah?”

  “That’s not quite what the problem is, but…” Defeated, Nygglatho heaved a deep sigh. “Very well, then. My superiors won’t get angry with us if they don’t find out, and I do want to help Collon in some way as well… Be sure to put it back in its spot when you’re finished, okay?”

  “Sure thing. I really like how understanding you are.”

  “Don’t say that to me. Right now, I’m waist-deep in self-hatred.”

  She shook her head a few times, then downed her tea in one gulp. That seemed to somehow help fix her mood.

  “—By the way, do you still have that talisman of yours? That, ah, language comprehension one you used just after being brought back from stone?”

  “Yeah.” He tapped his chest. “Haven’t used it since learning the official language, though. It uses language as a mediator and just conveys intention as is, so all the subtleties of a conversation go out the window.”

  “I just had a thought. Why not sell it and pay back your debt all at once?”